"No matter what, you saved us. We won't look down on you." Sim did not seem to care much about it and gave Solam's shoulder a hearty pat. However, this rough fellow clearly did not know how to speak—what did he mean by looking down on someone?
"I say, are half-orcs really that hated? Why would anyone look down on them?" Solam was a little unhappy. No one would be pleased about being discriminated against.
"Well... Sim just doesn't know how to talk. He wasn't talking about you." Maris hurriedly stepped in to smooth things over.
"I wasn't wrong. Half-orcs really aren't well liked." As a barbarian, his talent for mockery was inborn. This race was born foul-mouthed; they could not speak properly, yet often loved saying things loudly. Maris had quite the headache over this teammate. He knew Sim was not a bad person, but that filthy mouth of his was always getting him into trouble.
"Why is that?" Solam had indeed been a little upset at first, but looking at the barbarian before him, he could tell that Sim had meant no harm.
Seeing that Solam was not angry, Maris breathed a sigh of relief. After all, the other man had just saved them. It would have been rather inappropriate to fall out over something like this.
As it turned out, half-orcs were disliked by orcs and unacceptable to humans alike. Thus, they could only be driven to live in barren lands. They had no real productive skills, and over time, they became a notorious race of bandits.
Moreover, with other races discriminating against them and no one willing to accept them, those half-orcs simply gave up on themselves. Most half-orcs came to hate other races intensely, and many became either bandits or cultists—the most inhuman kind. Thus,