Rugluk

Thud, thud, thud! Rain drops smashed down on the little hut in which Rugluk stood. Peering out of the hut’s entrance, Rugluk surveyed the fort. He eyed its high palisade walls and sharp stake like top. Some skulls of fallen foes or foolhardy adventures had been crudely jammed onto stakes along the wall’s top. Leaving the hut where he had been taking cover from the rain he moved towards the fort. With his big, heavy steps he marched across the muddy clearing to enter the fort. On one side there stood a group of grunts, cutting and slashing at a cow’s carcass which they had looted during the last humie town raid.

The warboss stepped out from the fort’s meeting room, looked down at the group of squabbling grunts and snarled at them causing many of them to jump or stumble backwards. Kilug was bigger than any of the other orcs, his shoulders broad and his teeth were very long. He was covered head to toe in the finest armour and carried the sharpest shiniest weapons. Rugluk walked over to the carcass and sliced a lump of meat off then tossed it to warboss Kilug. He then took a slice for himself and began chewing on the uncooked, bloody meat. Kilug suddenly snarled at Rugluk then spat out the food! “Za oomie food rotten! Kilug wunt fresh meat!”. The orcs gathered their weapons and began forming a line in front of the boss. As fast as that yet another bloody raid had been ordered and the orcs would once again, march to battle!

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The Ancient Tribe