In the course of your adventures, dear reader, you may find yourself on the wrong end of an orcish glare—a glare that promises more than polite conversation. Perhaps you’ve insulted a tribal tradition. Perhaps you made a joke that was funnier in Elvish. Perhaps you looked too long at someone’s war paint and asked if it was decorative.
Regardless, you now face a dilemma: Apologize, fight, or flee.
This guide assumes you have wisely chosen the third.
As previously noted: if you're reading this mid-sprint, tuck it into your belt and run faster. The rest of you—settle in. Let’s save your limbs before you have to name them in a healing ward.
Chapter I: The Offense
You may not even know what you did wrong. That’s normal. Orcs, like Elves, have layers—except theirs are less poetry and more ancestral memory. The following list is not exhaustive.
You may have:
Sat on a stone that is sacred. (Unusual, but that was a bad day for me!)
Complimented their axe (but not enough).
Suggested a name for a baby. (Do not do this.)
Asked “Is Burz’kal the one with the volcano?”
If you’re lucky, you’ll be told. If you’re less lucky, you’ll be shown.
Chapter II: First Rule of Fleeing – Ditch the Cloak
Cloaks billow. Cloaks catch on brambles. Cloaks are good for poetry and terrible for evading warriors who can throw a boulder. Lose the cloak. Look less dramatic. Live longer.
Optional: Yell “I’m sorry!” as you do. Not required. May help.
Chapter III: Terrain – A Love Story
If you're going to run, run smart. Hills are good. Mud is better. Rivers are best. If you’re a Wood Elf, you should already be gone. If you're a Hill Elf, you’re probably standing your ground. If you're a Human—bless your heart—consider zig-zagging.
Avoid:
Open plains.
Large, flat ceremonial grounds.
Anywhere you previously gave a speech.
Chapter IV: Orcs Do Not Chase Forever
This is important. Orcs value purpose. They will not chase you for hours just to insult your fashion choices. Once you’re deemed harmless or not worth the effort, they will stop. That said, do not assume you’ve been forgiven just because your lungs are on fire.
Watch for:
Ceasing footfalls behind you (good).
A war horn (less good).
Laughter (ambiguous).
Chapter V: The Art of Apologizing
If you survive and feel brave: return. Speak with the Elder. Bring a gift. Make it useful, not shiny. Say nothing about “taming” or “civilizing” anyone. Do not compare their traditions to yours. And never, ever call someone from Burz’kal “a little dramatic.” That was another bad day for me.
Chapter VI: Exit Strategies
When in doubt:
Compliment the strength of their lineage.
Offer food (but do not season it yourself).
Suggest an alliance through interpretive song (you’ll get hit, but it’ll be worth it).
Then leave. Quickly, but not rudely. Walk like you have dignity. Just... very fast dignity.
Postscript: What You’ve Learned
You are small. You are loud. You have no idea what most tribes are actually like. You are not entitled to understand them—but you can choose to respect them.
Also: buy better boots.
Yours in sweaty reverence,
Elion Miradove
Poet-Sage of the Harmonious Muse,
Honored Guest of at Least One Orc,
Patron Saint of Almost-Trampled Diplomats