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The Sublime Overlord of the Realm
Raichek knew from the moment that the kitty ripped into her gelded toy that he was nothing. The male stumbled away like a broken bobber, spinning and nodding until he flung himself out the door. Then, at least, the orc didn't have to feel sick to his stomach from the look of the gelded pussy. However, it seemed that the kitty wanted to start something as soon as the other was away. Raichek's nostrils flared and he let out an angry growl as the shitty kitty called his goddess stupid. She could think what she liked about him, he knew what he was. Smarter than she would ever be. If Raglar's hand had not been upon him, he would have reached out and crushed her foul windpipe in his hand and left her broken necked body on the floor like the piece of trash she was.

However, it seemed that the kitty had decided to see the wisdom of joining Raglar in her quest. She might have said defile temples, but Raichek knew the truth. She was going to purify them, make them holy again in her name. Raglar, Mother of Mercy, was blessed and she would bless and purify just as she had done when she had come out of the heavens and filled the orc with her righteous truth and saved him from the end. He would have died in Grugukug's name, but she would not have it. She needed him. As the kitty wandered to a back room, the orcish man gently grasped Raglar's arm and helped her up from her seat. I will guide you, Raglar. He took her slowly, keeping his steps smaller than his normal long-legged stride to accommodate the frail human frame the goddess wore. Purity was so obvious within her, the pale skin and the fresh crimson. Not at all like the patrons of the establishment, covered in dirt, smelling of sweat and leathers, sawdust and shit, their hair colors the colors of earth and stone. They should be bowing before her. Instead they just watched, cautiously, like sheep or rabbits, as he passed by with her on his arm until they came to the room that the kitty had selected. Raichek's eyes scanned immediately for any sign of foul play or a trap before he pulled the chair away from the table and settled Raglar's light frame into it gently.

The annoying, pinched noise that was the shitty kitty's voice didn't stay silent for long as she addressed a goddess like so much trash. Raichek refused to sit once again, standing behind and slightly off to the side of Raglar's chair, his massive hand settled as lightly as a dove on her shoulder to let her know that he still was at her side, but far enough away that he could scoot around her chair and throttle the life out of the infidel that spoke so rudely. As the kitty called her mad, Raichek's teeth bared themselves, a low growl coming out of his throat once more.
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So Raglar Commands · City Randatria

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