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Chapter 12: The Orc and The Emissary

The mood within Orukk’s tent was tense as the warlord stared vacantly towards the ramshackle door that served as the entrance to his personal domain. Thick clouds of dust hung in the air as the warlord stewed quietly upon his throne with no end in sight to the grievances that now plagued the back of his mind. The orc bared his yellowed and chipped teeth as a low, and guttural growl escaped from his lips.

Orukk poked and clawed at his teeth with a sharpened fingernail to help dislodge a bit of meat that had gotten stuck between two of his cavity riddled teeth.

The orc hacked up and spat out a thick and slimy ball of spit as he finally managed to free the chunk of meat from its toothy prison.

Another growl began to rumble from his throat as he rested his heavily scarred head upon a closed fist as he placed its meaty elbow upon the plank of wood that served as a makeshift armrest. As he shifted his entire body to find a more comfortable position, a thunderous crack rang out from below, and Orukk watched with great displeasure on his face as slivers of splintered wood flew off into one of the many shadowy corners of his temporary abode.

The orc let out an unsurprised huff of breath as he grew exhausted with the current predicament he had found himself in.

His large, and still growing, army had come to a standstill at the mouth of the valley that his forces had trudged through and conquered their way throughout these past few months. He had to admit that, begrudgingly, it was partly his fault. While on the other hand, the orcs that served as his lieutenants and the cowardly goblins they commanded had almost no clue as to what they were doing and continued to drag their feet when it came time to execute his orders in a timely manner.

Orukk let out a disgruntled sigh as he wished that he could believe in the theory that those under his command plotted to undermine his authority and sought his demise, he knew that was not the case. The orcs and goblins that resided in this land were far too simple minded to do much of anything except to breath, eat, and fuck their days away.

The warlord would rather have a conniving and backstabbing lieutenant who skillfully plotted his demise as his right-hand then the bumbling buffoons that he had the misfortune of surrounding himself with.

 Orukk violently shook his head as he tried to clear away the thoughts that plagued his mind. Instead of dwelling any further on his band of morons, he would much rather think of the next step in his grand scheme of conquering the volcanic realm.

As of right now, he had identified several flaws within his current goals.

The first of such flaws was the fact that his army moved at a pace slower than that of a snail, as well as the fact that it had taken them weeks to march south to the mouth of the valley that now loomed behind them. The trolls that had pledged themselves to him would often times wander off into the wilderness and disappear for days on end, only for them to return to the encamped army starved and exhausted. The goblins were useless in their own right. They struggled with the most menial of labor and failed to keep abreast with the already glacial pace of the tribe. As for the orcs under his command; they were nothing more than lazy sacks of meat that refused to help out in any meaningful way. Time and time again, he had watched on as packs of exhausted goblins riled themselves up and fought amongst each other while their racial betters watched on, encouraging the small creatures to bloody themselves for their amusement.

There was also the fact that it took nearly two full days for a basic camp to either be established or torn apart. Nothing Orukk did seemed to work when it came time to speeding up their progress in creating an encampment. Threats, beatings, forced starvations, nor killings had any effect on those under his rule, and once again the orcs he had entrusted with what little power he was willing to give was of no help at all.

He felt as if he was slamming his head against the fortifications of a dwarven mountain fortress.

Discipline was the biggest issue he needed to solve before things got too out of hand. He was all too aware of the countless occasions of where a soon to be victorious orc led army would descend into chaos because of a jealous upstart who foamed at the mouth for his name to be recognized.

Trolls, legendary for their easy to please minds, would often times smash up and pummel what little infrastructure had been built up only for them to wander off before anyone could stop them. A few of the orcs under his command claimed that the behemoth creatures were merely bored and wished for some form of entertainment, but Orukk was loathed to admit that as the truth.

The daily brawls caused by the goblins was another problem that grew worse by the day and one that was exasperated by the fact that the orcs who he had tasked with keeping the small creatures in line were of no help at all. More often than not, the orcs would throw themselves in the thick of it and bash as many heads as they could before their warlord came along to break apart their fun.

The most aggravating issue, however, was the fact that he had no clue as to where to take his army next. Orukk was painfully aware of the fact that he had no clear picture of the lay of the land, which had become apparent only when they had found themselves deep within the valley that now stood at their backs.

For the past few days, the warlord had locked himself in his hut to draw upon an idea of where to lead his forces next, but only a blank picture would appear in his thoughts. He only knew of two things that he wanted to do at this point in time.

Find the next worthy tribe and conquer it, and create a permanent settlement so that he can grapple the many issues facing his rule.

What he needed the most, however, was to send out a party of scouts so that he may know where to march his rowdy clan next.

His thoughts were interrupted as the distant, yet shaky voice of Krumsh reached his ears.

Orukk looked up in disgust as the nerve rattled orc plowed into his hut.

“What do you want Krumsh?” The warlord said with an irritated growl booming from deep within his throat as he continued to watch the stumbling buffoon make his way further inside.

“Chieftain,” Krumsh yelled out as he threw planted himself onto the ground. “There’s a troll that wishes to speak with you.”

Orukk let out a sigh at the mention of yet another troll coming to seek out the orc. He had apparently made a name for himself amongst the creatures. Yet there remained the question as to why one of his lieutenants looked so nervous about a single troll.

A troll was a troll after all, and all one needed to do was to beat it into submission before it pledged its services to the victor. They were a race that valued strength and only strength.

“And?” The warlords’ voice lingered in the air as he waited for the messenger to continue.

“The-uh,” Krumsh coughed as he looked up at his chieftain. Beads of nervous sweat streamed down his face as he struggled with what next to say. “The troll claims to be an emissary for a king that lives up in the mountains.”

‘Of course it is,’ Orukk rolled his eyes at the mention of a king. He was unimpressed with the orcs choice in words and the warlord had serious doubts that the troll in question had even uttered the word ‘King.’

“What sort of ‘King’ does this troll speak of,” Orukk’s voice boomed as his eyes were drawn to the now opened door of his hut. “What sort of master does it serve?”

“Well,” Krumsh’s voice cracked as his nerves got the better of him. The orc paused to swallow down his fears, unsure of how to best put forward what needed to be said. “The emissary made sure to impress on us of the fact that it served a king…A troll king.”

A burst of deep and rumbling laughter filled the inside Orukks tent as the warlord allowed his usual cold and stone faced persona to break at what had just been said.

“A troll king is it?” Orukk said between fits of laughter as a hand reached forward and slapped against the thrones crudely made armrest. “And what does this king wish of me?”

“It wouldn’t say,” Krumsh said nervously as he bowed his head in apology for his failure to goad more out of the troll. “The emissary only claimed that the words of its master were for your ears only and that he would speak no more on the matter until he had the chance to speak with you.”

“Very well,” The warlords' voice rumbled as he pushed himself off of his throne. Wood creaked and cracked as the orc lifted himself upwards and toward over the messenger before him. “Bring me to him.”

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“You big named orc?” The troll emissary called out towards the two approaching orcs as he pointed a stubby finger towards Orukk.

“I am,” The warlord’s rumbled as he nodded his head towards the handful of orcs who had stayed behind to watch over the troll and they returned the gesture in kind before quickly departing from their master’s sight. Orukk would have to speak with Krumsh about the importance of making sure that any future visitors were well aware of who and what he was. “The names Orukk and I rule over this sorry lot, and with whom am I speaking to?”

A low growl escaped from Orukks throat as he stopped several paces away from the troll and gave the apparent emissary a quick glance over.  The troll was similar in appearance to most of his kind. Even with a heavy and unhealthy slouch, the creature towered over the warlord and all of the nearby huts by a fair margin. Its arms and legs were long, spindly and covered in rock like deformations. A massive pot belly, marked by a countless number of open sores and rocky pustules, hung over its waist. Its lips were cracked and split in two by several jagged tusks that shot out from its mouth.

‘What a disgusting creature.’ Orukk thought to himself as he grew sicker with each passing moment he continued to stare at the monstrous beast.

“Ork? Orok? Orc!” The, so far, nameless emissary called out as a look of confusion over its face. Orukk wondered if the creature was trying to sound out his name. “Orc is funny name, but me understand. Me not want to forget who my people are either.”

A pain filled gasp of air escaped the troubled orc as the realization of his misfortune was becoming more and more apparent. He wasn’t sure how, but Orukk always forgot about how simple minded and braindead the troll race was.

For Orukk, the title of “Troll King” was a preposterous one. He believed that Krumsh must have misunderstood what the emissary had said, and falsely interpreted it as the truth before bringing word to his master.

“Of course,” The warlord said with barely contained anger rising in his voice. “Again, I must ask with who am I speaking to? What is your name?”

The troll looked stunned at the repeated question concerning its name as if it was painfully obvious as to who it was. “Me Big…Thwug.” The emissary stated, unsure of himself as he poked the side of his head with a pustule riddled finger.

“I see…” Orukks distaste for the troll was starting to become more apparent by the moment. Of the individuals who had felt the need to stick around and watch the ongoing disaster, it was evident that the odd back and forth would continue on for some time.

The warlord crossed his arms over his chest and gave the emissary a defiant and commanding stare. He wanted this conversation to be over and done with before the troll’s stupidity had rubbed off on him.

“So tell me…Thwug,” Orukk refused to call the creature by its full name and decided that the second half would do for now. He loathed the idea of him learning the true meaning behind the monstrous beasts full name. “What does this ‘King’ of yours wish of me and my tribe?”

Thwug’s eyes opened wide as he looked up into the sky and cupped a hand over its chin as if to show the fact that it had forgotten why it had even come into the camp in the first place.

“Da King?” Thwug asked himself inquisitively as he let out a drawn out hum while he tried to think of his purpose in coming. “Da King wants to…”

Orukk looked towards Krumsh as they troll stayed quiet; it was becoming obvious to the both of them that the creature had forgotten the reasoning for its journey into the orc encampment. The warlord quietly wished to himself that the troll would somehow forget to breathe as well; otherwise, they were going to be stuck here all day.

“Da King…” The trolls face clenched up in frustration as it tried in vain to think of what its master wished for it to do. Greasy sweat slowly dripped down its hideous face as the creature bundled up a fist and quickly smashed it against its teeth. A loud and hollow crack soon followed as the troll continue to bash away at its mouth. “Da King wants to…”

Thwug went quiet for a second time as its mind continued to draw a blank while Orukk allowed a tired sigh to escape his lips. This entire conversation was going nowhere.

“Perhaps he wants to speak with me?” Orukk suggested to the troll as he could no longer tolerate in having to watch the troll beat its face into a pulp.

“King wants to talk?” Thwug asked himself as his attention was slowly drawn towards the orc. The troll looked down at the grey skinned warlord while confusion continued to muddle its brain “Talk…King…Talking.” The troll laughed at its own words while it slowly combined the two words into a single existence. “Da King wants to talk.”

The troll nodded its head as it raised an open palm high into the air as it finally realized why it came into the encampment in the first place. “You’se right, da King wants to talk with ya about smarts stuff.”

“Such as?” Orukk asked as he gestured for the troll to continue.

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“Da King wants ya to join.”

Thwug remained quiet after that as a proud look formed over its face. To the troll, no more needed to be said about what its master wanted out of the orc.

“Join what, exactly?” Orukk asked the troll as he attempted to pry more information out of the emissary.

Once again, the troll paused to look up into the cloudless sky as it tried to remember what its king had tasked it to do.

“Join…Join…Join…” Thwug swayed its head from side to side as it quietly hummed the words to itself in a rhythmic fashion. Over and over again it sung the word to itself while occasionally adding in ‘King’ into its musical number.

Orukk grunted in frustration as he watched the spectacle unfold before his very eyes. There was a reason why no one ever bothered to negotiate with trolls, and the orc was looking at one such occasion at this very moment.

“Enough,” The warlord bellowed. His voice boomed across their immediate surroundings, forcing those unaware of the unfolding negotiations to look up and wander towards the source of the vicious sound. “You are to either tell me about the purpose in you being here, or I shall be forced to kill you here and now.”

Thwug chuckled at the orcs words as he listened to the warlords’ boastful attitude. The troll gave off the impression that Orukk would never be able to beat him in a fight. “Silly orc,” The emissary stated as he slapped a meaty hand over its rotund belly. Spurts of thick puss oozed between its fat fingers as the troll ran its hand along the stomachs girth. “Me am good fighter, but me no need to fight you. Me remember what King wants from you.”

“Spit it out.” Orukk said between clenched teeth.

“Da King wants you to join him. Join and win dis land for him.” Thwug smashed his fists together as he spoke those words. “King wants you to s-s-su-…Eat to him.”

The emissary nodded his head in triumph as he managed to spit out the most challenging word it knew.

Krumsh looked to his chieftain with a questioning glance. He was unwilling to believe in the idea that the warlord would find any of this appealing.

Orukk looked around him, finally noticing the gathering crowd that had managed to make its way towards the fuss.

It was evident to Orukk that the emissary had misspoken and had meant for the warlord to 'submit' to its king. Something that the proud and battle scarred orc would never do in his entire life, especially to a troll that had delusions of grandeur.

Laughter bellowed out from deep within the orc's stomach as the warlord found the absurdity of the situation to be too much for him to handle.

"Your so called 'King' is an idiotic gas blower if he thinks that I would ever submit to anything except for my own goals. Submitting to a 'Troll King,'" Orukk spat at the ground as he brought up the ridiculous title. He raised a fist at the emissary and squeezed down on his hand until his knuckles turned white. "Don't make me laugh. Orcs are meant to conquer and rule over the other races, not kneel before a lesser race of moronic rock eaters."

Krumsh, along with a few other nearby orcs, nodded their heads at what their leader had to say. As far as they were concerned, their race had ruled over the chaotic and war ravaged realm for untold generations. While they never truly held the entirety of the region in the palm of their hands, they knew that it was only a matter of time for the holdouts to submit to the superiority of the orcs.

If Krumsh remembered correctly, he had heard of a similar ruler to that of this 'Troll King' that the emissary had spoken about. There were rumors about some sort of goblin king who ruled over a vast kingdom within the Fire Mountain of Org' ush, though he wasn't sure as to the truth of such a rumor.

"You no join?" Thwug asked in shock as it looked down at the two orcs. "You no serve Troll King?"

Orukk stayed quiet as he shook his head and flashed his yellowed teeth at the troll.

"If you no join, then that means me fail…If me fail, then me can't go home…If me can't go home, then me starve…"

Thwug slowly started to formulate a list of growing consequences to his diplomatic blunder. For a time it continued to blabber on and on about its fate, going so far as to point out that its bones would be used as a tasty meal for any wandering scavengers.

"If you not join, then me must make new plan." Thwug said after a brief pause. "I kill you and take over tribe here. If I bring back tribe, then King will feed me."

"What?" The two orcs said in unison as they became stunned at the trolls choice of words.

Credit where credit was due, the emissary wasn't as dumb as it looked.

Within the blink of an eye, Orukk jumped and rolled off to the side, narrowly avoiding the mighty swing of the emissary's arm.

The orc looked to his left as he heard the chaotic sound of snapping wood and tumbling infrastructure. Within the shadows of a ruined hut lay a lump of bloodied flesh and broken bones, Krumsh had the misfortune of being too slow to see the troll's initial attack.  

Orukk grinned in absolute pleasure as he brought a muscled arm to his face and wiped away the streaks of blood of his unfortunate companion. The orc took the momentary pause to scan his immediate surroundings for anything of use.

The tiny grey heads of nearby goblins popped into his vision every so often while the distinct forms of orcs skulked within the shadows of whatever cover they could find. Their curiosity had grown too powerful for them to ignore, and they watched with bated breath as the impromptu single combat got off to a bloodied start.

Orukk ignored their eager stares and paranoid whispers as he let out a huff of frustrated air. He had failed to find anything of use, for now at least.

The warlord jumped to the right, landing on his hands and knees before quickly dashing off to the left in a faint to help avoid any oncoming attacks. He narrowly managed to duck in time and dodged another powerful swing from the trolls arm.

"Me am new ruler of dis tribe!" Thwug bellowed as he raised an arm and readied his body for another attack.

"I don't think so," Orukk said in defiance of his would be assassin as he slid under the trolls wild swing, the orcs face came within inches of being caved in by the emissaries diseased and pustule ridden fist. His nostrils flared as he shook his head in disgust of the putrid odor emanating from his opponent's body. "I'll kill you first, and once I'm done skinning your hide and flaying the rotting meat from your bones I'll come for your pathetic king as well!"

"You talk too much!" The troll roared as he repeatedly stomped his feet before lunging towards the defiant orc.

'You're one to talk.' Orukk thought calmly as he leaped into the air and stepped onto the trolls back, using the creatures own body as a platform to help push his body into the air. A few of the pustules popped and splattered under his feet, but he paid it no mind.

The orc turned and watched the troll smash into a nearby hut. The warlord used this pause in their fight to catch his breath as screams of pain filled terror sang out into the sky above.

Thwug shook the splintered wood and bloodied dust off of his body as he looked down in confusion at the crushed corpses of the unfortunate goblins that had the misfortune of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Orukk quietly admitted to himself that, for a troll, the emissary was surprisingly fast.

That just meant he needed to be faster, however.

The troll stumbled backwards as it rose from debris littered ground, sickening clumps of flesh hung carelessly from its hands as the emissary turned to face Orukk.

As the warlord looked around his surroundings for a second time, he hoped in some vain fashion that there would be at least one person who had the foresight to bring a weapon along with them. If not that, then he wished for the opportunity for him to create something of use in this dire time.

“I’ll talk as much as I want.” Orukk yelled towards the troll as he picked up a nearby stone and threw it towards the creature with all of his might.

Thwug gave the orc a blank stare as the makeshift missile bounced carelessly off of its head. The rock appeared to have no effect on the warlord’s enemy as the troll casually patted at the spot with a look of confusion.

‘Great,’ Orukk thought is dismay as he rushed towards the open door of a ruined warehouse. ‘Just great. Fighting a troll with nothing of use in sight.’

The orc slid to a stop and took a deep breath as he dashed through the door and looked for anything of use. Orukk let out a disgruntled sigh as he watched a cowardly goblin crawl its way through a small hole in the back of the nearly empty building.

“Me no like people who hide!” Thwug announced to the world as his fist came crashing down onto the hole littered ceiling.

Orukk managed to avoid death within a hairs breath as he dashed after the escaping goblin and brought up his shoulder before exploding out of the back of the crumbling wall.

The goblin stopped in its tracks and watched with an open mouth as the orc warlord made a run for the nearby crowd of curious onlookers. Unfortunately for him, he had gone unnoticed by the emissary and was crushed to death under the troll’s lumbering foot.

“You!” Orukk yelled violently as he pointed towards a single orc with an ax strapped to its back. “Give me your weapon!”

Without a second thought, Orukk dashed towards the crowd in bounding steps as the troll steadily chased after the warlord.

Thwug’s lumbering steps boomed across the way as he let out a vicious roar as he watched the orc barrel into the now fleeing crowd.

Orcs and goblins pushed and shoved each other out of the way as they made a break for it, fearing what would happen to them if they had the misfortune of being caught in the middle of the duel.

Orukk gave a silent prayer to the gods of bloody war as he watched with glee as the orc he had singled out stood absolutely still with a finger pointing towards his face.

“Do you see anyone else around you?” Orukk chastised the orc as he readied his arm and swung at the orc with all of his might.

The poor soul never had the chance to reply as the warlord’s fist connected with his jaw, sending the now unconscious orc to the ground.

Orukk spat at the unconscious orcs face as he pried the crude weapon from its back.

“Quit running,” Thwug yelled to the orc as he tossed various scraps of wood towards the now armed warlord. The broken planks slammed into the ground and shattered upon impact, sending deadly shards of shrapnel in multiple directions but their intended target managed to come out of it mostly unscathed. “You too scared to fight?”

The troll beat a dust covered fist against its bare chest as it stomped its feet in defiance of his opponents seemingly lack of fighting spirit.

“I never run from a fight.” Orukk mimicked the trolls tone and pounded his own fist against his scar covered chest, sweat, and blood stuck to his fingers as he raised the newly acquired weapon into the air.

Orukk readied his body and placed all of his might into his legs, and with a thunderous roar, the orc charged towards the troll. With each step he took, the warlord drew closer towards the emissary by leaps and bounds. The orc’s thoughts never faltered as he barreled his way towards the stubborn troll at a breakneck speed.

The two soon collided into one another with an ear piercing slap of flesh against flesh.

With a dumb look plastered on his face, Thwug leaned forward and let out a gasp of air. Gelatinous slobber flew out from his mouth as he blindly reached towards the orc and missed as his opponent jumped back to avoid the clumsy attack.

Orukk grunted in pain as he held onto his left arm, now limp and useless thanks to his shoulder being dislocated. The orc grimaced in pain as he held out the injured limb and pulled it forward with all of his might. A loud crack and a stifled cry rang out from the orc managed to pop the arm back into place.

Orukk shook his head and cleared away the sparks of pain from his vision as he rolled his shoulder, making sure that all was well before readying himself for the next attack to come.

The two continued their destructive song and dance for quite some time. Thwug would often charge and swing wildly at the orc, but only narrowly miss his opponent and hurl himself into a nearby building or hurl the broken corpse of an unfortunate victim into growing pile of debris and bloodied slops of flesh.

Orukk would duck and weave his way around the troll’s clumsy attacks, and on most occasions, he would narrowly avoid a disastrous end to his short career as a mighty warlord. He was surprised at how quick the troll had turned out to be, but thankfully he had proven to be even faster as he continued to dodge the emissary’s attacks. Yet he wasn’t quick enough to avoid the deluge of shrapnel that exploded outwards from the troll’s constant charges.

Blood oozed from his wounds as bits of wood and stone buried themselves into his flesh.

Orukk found the injuries to a boon to him, however. The pain that they caused him had managed to focus his mind and sharpen his senses as the adrenaline flooded into his head, sending his tired body into overdrive.

The troll had been unable to escape injury as well, but the wounds that had been inflicted upon its body were far too shallow to affect its fighting prowess and could only be considered glancing blows.

Orukk watched on in frustration as the latest of such injuries slowly knitted itself closed before his very eyes. The orc flared his nostrils and spat out a slur of incoherent words as he cursed the troll’s legendary healing capabilities.

It was yet another reason as to why the warlord loathed being around the stubborn creatures.

The warlord understood that if he wished to finish this fight in his favor than he needed to deal a decisive and final blow. A blow that he hoped would end this fight in a single swing of his axe.

Thwug brought a hand to his potbelly as laughter bellowed from deep within his throat. “You no look so good,” The troll taunted as he swung a broken door into the air before quickly sweeping it across the ground. “Me thinks you’se ready to give up.”

Orukk tightened his grip around his weapon and snarled at the troll’s attitude. One way or another, he was going to kill this troll.

The warlord let out a low growl as he readied his body for what he hoped to be the final charge of this absurd duel. It had gone on for far too long, and the orc wanted it to end. Now.

With lightning quick reflexes, Orukk lunged himself towards the troll and brought his left shoulder to bear as he watched his opponent raise its makeshift weapon to block the oncoming orc.

The wooden shield exploded into splinters and bounced off of the troll's neck and face as Orukk plowed through its flimsy frame. Within the blink of an eye, the orc brought his weapon as far back as he could manage and bellowed out a terrifying war cry as he swung the axe with all of his might.

A choking cry and a muffled grunt passed through Thwug's lips as the two of them collided into one another.

Blood and flesh flew high into the air as the two bodies collapsed onto the ground as a single entity.

Before the clouds of dust and dirt could settle onto the ground, Orukk let out one last defiant roar and rose from the bundled mess. The orc raised his axe high into the sky and quickly brought the weapon down onto the troll's neck.

Blood, flesh, and fat clung to the bladed weapon as the warlord chopped violently at his opponent's thick throat. The orc never gave the troll a single ounce of mercy as he continued to hack and saw his way through the thick fat and muscle.

With a satisfied huff of air, Orukk watched in great pleasure as the emissary's severed head rolled away into the nearby pool of blood.

In a single motion, the orc tossed away the weapon and scooped up his bloodied trophy by its neck.

Orukk turned towards where he last saw the crowd of onlookers and raised his blood drenched arm in victory. "This," He called out to the murmuring crowd as his voice continued to rise to match that of the cheering bystanders. "Is the price of defiance against Orukk the Blooddrinker! Know that those foolish enough to challenge me for the right to rule this land will suffer a similar fate."

The victorious warlord looked up and opened his mouth as he squeezed down at the bloodied head, catching the strains of blood in his throat before quickly tossing the vile trophy into the crowd.

A vicious roar erupted from the gathered collection of orcs and goblins as they began to chant and cheer for their one time conqueror.

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Orukk looked to the left and then to the right as he carefully examined the handful of nearby orcs that readied their snarling mounts. During the time it had taken them to march south throughout the desolate valley, his men had managed to secure a handful of wargs that would prove useful to his needs.

The warlord nodded his head as he listened to the rabid beasts snap their jaws at their orc masters as the grey skinned riders readied the foul animals for the journey to come. A few of the orcs were even brave enough to mimic their mounts hideous noises as they fought for dominance over the powerful monsters. A yelp echoed across the way as one of the riders punched the creature in its jaw, the unfortunate warg shook its head as it finally gave up in attempting to stop its master from climbing onto its back.

“Do you understand what I’m asking of you?” Orukk said calmly as he turned his attention to the leader of the gathered scouts.

“Of course Chieftain,”  Grok’Kar said with pride in his voice as he pounded a fist against his bare chest. “We’re to ride out in various directions and upon the agreed time limit report back our findings.”

“Good,” The warlord nodded his head as he listened to the lead scout repeat his orders. Orukk was glad of the fact that there was at least one capable person in his entire retinue that could listen to his instructions. “Remember that I want you gone for no longer than five days, any longer than that and I will consider you as good as dead.”

Grok’Kar grunted in reply as he steadied himself over the wargs massive back. The orc was nervous about being on the corrupted beasts back, as he had only learned how to ride the animal over the past several days.

“Be sure to hold on tight,” Orukk started to say as he walked towards the creatures’ hindquarters. “Now go!”

With a mighty roar, Orukk slammed an open palm against the beasts’ backside; forcing the creature to let forth a pain filled cry as it lunged forward.

Grok’Kar jerked back as the beast took off at a pace that the orc wasn’t comfortable with. The lead scout could only cling onto what little fur his mount had to offer as the beast started to shrink in the distant horizon.

Soon after, the other scouts followed suit. Their spirits were high as they hollered and howled out their glee as they chased after their leader.

Defiant howls and menacing laughter echoed out into the distance as Orukk watched on in silence.

Once the scouts had returned from their mission, Orukk hoped to hear of more enemies to conquer and a place for him to permanently settle his growing horde.

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