As he approached the sprawling camp, he dodged the odd ambitious goblin assassin, avoided the hungry boar and wolf which were looking for a quick bite and then he saw the felled trees, woodchips and very blunt axes. Around the communal camp fire he could see four giant shapes looming above the throng of goblinoid audience. Oh no he thought, please don’t let it be giants he pleaded to the gods, the last one had almost eaten the entire warband before it had wandered off.
It wasn’t any giant; it was the Black Orc leaders standing upon wooden stumps, heads and shoulders above all the other lads. As to where Grog was, there was no sign and that was just as worrying. Damn that Gobbo trader who brought supplies and sold information, he must have told Grog about the Dwarven shield bearers and oath stones. The tree trunks upon which the boasting leaders stood had been painted in garish colours to identify their particular owner. The only good Wizza could see coming from this was a high turnover in champions as enemy archers picked them off from their now exposed position.
But where was Grog? Who cares, but all will be revealed shortly...
|Gutkill and Snapstik|
|Who's the new Standard Bearer?|
On the right - Stompabitz