Just to prove that I’m sometimes still writing it, this is from Chapter Four:

“You would, but I warn you, I’m testing these myself. Anyway, you wouldn’t want me to come back here, poking my nose into your little schemes, you know how I like to gossip, Spud.” Spoog blanched to a lighter green. Anna looked up and grinned.
“Spud?”
“Ere,” Spoog pointed a shaking finger at Ethel, “No need for that!”
“Why Spud?” Anna asked Ethel.
“His real name, such a sweetie, named after a vegetable.” Anna giggle, Spoog wasn’t amused in the slightest, his body almost vibrated as he stood grinding his teeth.
“Not very … manly, is it?” Anna asked. Ethel, smiled, an evil glint in her eyes, she was obviously enjoying herself.
“You see, that’s where his mam and dad did the …” Anna clapped her hands over her ears and muttered “Too much detail.” The personal details of Orcs wasn’t something she wanted to hear. It was good timing as it turned out, Spoog began to curse loudly in Orcish. A language that had elevated cursing to artistic levels, Orc cursing could create a living embodiment of the cursing. It could scuttle off and independently live its own depressing life. A legendry Orc curse artist called Emtwentyfive had once cursed so fluidly and effectually that his curse creature ate him to shut him up. The monumentally depressing creature promptly left, the rumour was it became an estate agent in Liverpool.

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