The Prowling Forest, Part 13

Showdown at Blubberfen: No Mercy!

Skargat growled in frustration.
The Ironforged's encampement was in partial disarray, this time thanks to a nightly visit by a roving rockgut troggoth. And of all possible nights, the dim-witted creature had chosen precisely the one before the final attack on the Swordfyshes.
The Tyrant could not ignore the threat to his encampment. Neither he could now tell the lads they were not going to deal with the Swordfyshes once and for all. But it was for his ability to deal with situations like this that he had earned himself the monicker of Brainglut.
Hrothgur was still eyeing the Ironforged leadership, even if he had laid low for a bit. Skargat had to keep the Crusher away from the real fights in which he could have regained the respect of the Gluttons and Maneaters. Sending him to hunt the troggoth was the perfect way to achieve that without showing the Tyrant was still worried.
"Hrothgur!" Skargat boomed so that all ogors could hear him. "This is a task I can only trust to you! Track the troggoth down. Kill it or tame it, I leave that to you".
"Yes, mighty Tyrant" replied the Crusher, a hint of puzzlement in his voice. "I'll deal with it".
"Good! And remember, Hrothgur, you are my number one lad! Everybody else, with me! We're going to storm Badrok Anchorage!"

***

Skargat and Cargo were the first to approach the outskirts of Badrok Anchorage. They could see the Swordfysh moored to the highest ruin, orruks busy loading it.

As the two considered whether to just let the orruks leave and then claim their territory, they spotted Krashhart, Ol' Mudgob and Docker Goff patroling the outskirts of the ruins.

That was too good an opportunity to let it slip. As one, the Tyrant and the Maneater jumped out of the undergrowth. Anchor and cutlass rung on Krashhart's armour, while Skargat's axe darted for Docker. The Warchanter stood his ground, but the 'ardboy went down like chaff before the scythe.

Krashhart recovered quickly from the surprise attack and his Gristle Grinder made short work of Cargo, giving time to Ol' Mudgob to rush for the ruins and call for reinforcements.

Leeway, Battendown and Lugger responded to the call. But the commotion was the signal the rest of the Ironforged waited for. Barag and Growt barreled forward, hungering for the fight.

They closed the distance quickly and gazed in admiration as their Tyrant went on a rampage. He leapt from a rocky outcrop right in front of Krashhart, brutally cutting him down with few well placed blows and then smashed onto Ol' Mudgob. But the Swordfyshes reinforcements stepped up, allowing the shaman to fall back.

Braggoth arrived on the scene as did Hook and Yardarm.

Ol' Mudgob summoned the Foot of Gork, and though it landed hard on Skargat, the Tyrant still managed to hack down Leeway. At the same time, Barag rubbed his Amethyst Amulet and as an incorporeal mist floated next to Battendown. As soon as he regained form, his flails slammed hard and the 'ardboy fell.

Ol' Mudgob saw the plight his crewmates were in and called for a retreat. The Swordfysh was ready for them and Blubberfen, Badrok Anchorage and the woods in between firmly in the Ironforged's hands.

***

Marg arrived on the battlefield as the Swordfyshes were boarding their ship. All that was left for him to do was rummaging through the goods the orruks had left behind. Most of them were empty, mouldy barrels. But on top of one of them was a surprisingly clean bottle. Inside it was a clear liquid and it didn't took much for the glutton to realise the orruks had forgotten some valuable Aqua Ghyranis.

***

Following the troggoth's track wasn't a hard task, and Hrothgur had time to consider the situation. Clearly the Tyrant had wanted him far from the real fight and at the same time had not humiliated him. That wasn't good for the Crusher, as he had no reason to mount another challenge. But what if the Tyrant accidentally met with a troggoth club? And then, while recovering, what if a few drops of Blight Serpent Venom ended up in his food?
Grinning, Hrothgur spotted the troggoth shambling in a glade. He pulled out a big chunk of meat from his satchel and dangle it in front of him.
"Here, boy! I got something for you... You're going to be a good boy, aren't you?"

***

As soon as the ogors had left the camp, Watcha, by now the undisputed leader among the gnoblars, squealed orders for the others to fix the encampment while he went for a range. He hadn't ventured much far from the encampement when he spotted some crudely carved moon idols, half sunk in the bog. They seemed to mark a path through the bog and as the gnoblar approached its end, he started to smell the overwhelming aroma of Stinkcranny Fungi.

***

The victory feast had lasted three whole days and nights when the food started to run low. As the unchallenged ruler of a vast tract of the Prowling Forest, Skargat wanted the feast to continue. So the gnoblars were sent to fish and trap whatever they could and immediately bring it back to the ogors' table.
For another three days and nights the feast went on, even though the meat was now consumed raw, in some casees still alive.
And then, on the dawn of the seventh day, the gnoblars couldn't keep up with the ogors' voracious appetite. Keeping a safe distance, they signaled to Skargat there was no more food.
"Well! Ironforged, we've emptied our larder and some. You all know what that means, don't you?"
The rolling thunder of several belches mixed with laughter answered the Tyrant's question.
"As I expected, lads! On the Mawpath! We move on, deeper into the Prowling Forest!"