Clash of Bullies
"And I name this land Brawler's Crag!" Basha's high pitched voice sounded loud over the clamour of the gnoblars setting up the Ironforged camp."No! It's the Ravenous Ravine!" metal rung on the rocky ground as Loota dropped the pots and cutlery he was carrying and stood up to Basha.
"This is the Hungering Canyon!", perched on a rock, Skreecha outdid both Basha and Loota, reaching the highest pitch with his squeaky voice and throwing a handful of sharp scrap at the fighting gnoblars.
"Enough!" Skargat's axe came down, the flat of its blade propelling Skreecha through the air and into Basha and Loota, in a jumble of scrawny green limbs and assorted junk.
"You little ones set up the camp and leave the naming to us big guys! Is that understood?". The shuffling of tiny feet on the ground was the only answer.
"Good! Our camp is Ironlarder Gorge. Now get back to stash our food and tools!", the Tyrant then turned around and stomped towards the fire where Cargo and Barag were roasting an amberhorn goatling.
"Right lads, grab your meat and come with me. I need a fight and I'll get myself one!"
"Sure chief! What about going to Brackenthorn Tower? The Bloodgulper and his gluttons went there a couple of days ago and haven't come back yet".
"Wherever! I need a fight and I'll get myself one, I said!"
"Do you think he is feeling it too?" Cargo asked in a whisper while dousing the fire.
"Ghur's heartbeath? As you and I are, and those little buggers really winded him up. It's going to be fun."
"There they are!" Barag boomed as he was the first to spot the Swordfyshes through a tangle of stranglervines and grasproots.
Skargat halted and listened carefully. As soon as he figured out where Lord Krashhart was, he barreled forward, swinging his axe wide around Sinka and straight into the Warchanter's chest. The boisterous orruk tried to fall back, but Skreecha and Poka jumped in. Skreecha was badly trampled, but Krashhart could not leave.
Suddenly the sky burst in a rainstorm, drenching the fighters in jade water. Krashhart's wounds started to heal, stoking Skargat's rage, the wild beating in his head growing ever more unbearable. Again the Tyrant took advantage of his greater reach and ignoring Sinka sent Krashhart sprawling to the forest ground.
The Swordfyshes recognised that might makes right and without a single word grabbed the unconscious Warchanter by the feet and dragged him away.
***
Some distance away, Cargo could hear the commotion of the fight, but he was more interested in what Watcha had found while exploring the Prowling Forest. The chunk of amberbone he had found felt warm to the touch and vibrated rhythmically, echoing the tumping all ogors had been feeling since sunrise. With a grin, the Maneater slid the amberbone into a pocket and made back for Ironlarder Gorge.
Fantastic!
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