Staff (Sorcerer) (True Nuetral)

What to Expect: Balancing your romantic and sexual urges against the duties of leading and defending your clan. Femdom, Secrecy, Romance

None of the swords and maces and whatever else were hung against the wall appeared to be sufficient to the task of breaking the metal bars loose. Trying would only prove to be exhausting, one needed to work smarter, not harder. To that end, you have a leg up in the world that most others don't possess. On a pair of hooks, hanging horizontally, is a gnarled wooden staff, likely taken from an ancient tree. The staff has odd runes engraved at various places and an opaque stone in the center.

A tool of the sorcerer, like you. Your use of magic, inexplicable and without any formal training or spellbooks has been useful in your life, although not without its complications. A superstitious lot, your fellow orcs have welcomed the benefit of your magic while keeping you at arms length, never fully trusting you. Perception of you changes from a thing to be coveted or a possible threat to be feared, with little in between.

You hold the staff in one hand, raising it into the air to get a sense for it's weight and it's function. It feels perfect in your hands, despite the rough, unaltered naturalism of it. As for it's power, it would appear it has more of that than you were expecting. Without doing anything, a bright white light emanates from the crystal in the center of the staff, filling the room with blinding light. Though not what you intended, you see that it at least had the desired affect. As the light clears, the foreigness of that cramped, prison like room has given way to the familiar. Your clothes of padded cloth return, and you are inside a large tent made of tanned hides, much as you remember being before you found yourself on the floor.

You hear the distant call of a battle horn. While it can mean many things, it doesn't always mean ****, but it does always mean something important. You hurry out of the tent to see what's going on.