Worlds of Change: Building a Better Lig

After another long, grueling battle at the orc fort, Nholg turned form the front wall and walked toward the catapault, looking down at his cross bow. He sneered in disgust and threw it against the wall.


Nholg had been making bows and crossbows that were as good if not better than any "hoomies" and had been using bows even longer.

"Me meyk deez oligz az strong az me kin agh de ligz styll drup tu de ugz ef de hoomie runz muur dan dudty paws uhwey frum Nholg..."

He reached down, picked his crossbow up, and walked toward the back door of the fort.

"Me guun figyuur owt huw tu meyk deez ligz gu furdur ef id teyks Nholg de rezd ub emz lyf!"

He turned the corner, looking down at his crossbow and loading a bolt in. Just as he pulled the bolt back, Gorknok, who had a reputation for being a klutz, tripped and fell toward Nholg.

Nholg looked up from his weapon which no longer had a bolt and saw the wincing face of Gorknok whose ear was pinned to the side of the door frame.

"Gah! me had to be muur keyrful..." Gork said while trying to break off the end of the bolt to free his ear.

"ef unlee hoomies wer dat clumzee agh gut dat cloze tu Nholg..."

Nholg made his way back to the Surginz hut and sat at his workbench looking over his "skribbuls" of bow designs and other materials he had tried to make the bolts fly further.

"Meybe de trubbul am wiff de ligz agh nub de olig..." He thought.

He picked up a shaft and began to examine it.

"ef deez am litur, dem wuud gu fazdur agh nub had tu be su thik yub?"

Nholg shaved down the shaft to half it's normal size.

"dat seemz muj litur... Nuw, de feddurs agh tip..."

Looking at an arrow tip he started thinking about the orc zults comparred to a "hoomies wimpstik"...

"dem litur, dem fazdur agh sharpur... meybee dat werk fur ligz tu..."

He carved out a new mold for a tip in a wood block much thinner than his old mold, poured some melted iron into the mold, and set it aside to cool.

He then reached for a pile of feathers to see if he could improve on them. His hand brushed a candle which fell over, soaking the feather with hot wax. Smirking, he began to try and wipe the wax off, noticing that when it cooled, the wax made the feather firm and kept it from fraying.

A grin spread over his face as he pieced the new lig together and loaded it into his crossbow.

He made his way upstairs and onto the balconey of the surginz hut noticing Smo'dis sitting on the bench with a handful of rocks and mud, flipping through the pages of his "mojo buuk" mumbling something about "strongur"...

From the balcony Nholg could see the top of the grunt hut at the fort and took aim. Smo'dis looked up from his spellbook to see what Nholg was doing.

"Ey Nholg, wut lat..."

Nholg pulled the trigger.


Smo'dis stood up with his hands on the rail, watching the bolt soar through the woods and stick into the back wall of the hut. Nholg grinned evilly. Smo turned to Nholg.

"Lat gruk idz juzd maddur ub tym befur ash humie tayks ash ub doze tu demz olig makrz. . . "

"Yub, bud dem had tu meyk id bak wiff ash firzd."