The haze of smoke clung to the bone-tipped torches rise to dark sky above.
Chief Gorrmash stood before the blood-slick altar, as he stands and ponder in wonder.
"A human…
He muttered, low and mean, like the word itself offended him.
His crimson eyes flared but for a moment till they landed on a particular four.
"You four... Grak, Urmog, Shekk, and Drol."
He pointed, not needing to name them twice. The chosen brutes straightened with guttural pride.
As they listen to their Chief speak.
"Go to gate. Find what walks. If man...kill. Rip. Boil, and Feast. If woman… tie her legs, break her teeth. Bring back. She breed."
A moment of silence filled the air till orcs looked at each other happily.
Then the excitement broke between them.
"Hrah! I take her first! I take first!"
Roared Urmog, pounding a meaty fist to his chest.
"Like dung you do!"
Spat Grak, his tusks twitching.
"You too slow! Me split her open quick, make her scream fast!"
