Rise of the Horde

"I am called Xok'nath Stonetooth! Chieftain of the Skalsser Tribe! Leave our lands or alive before we add you to our collections!" the chieftain of the orc tribe proudly declared as he patted the skull that was on his right shoulder.

"Tsk... This perfect warrior will take you down in no time. Look at this perfect muscles, this perfectly handsome face." Dug'mhar dismounted from his steed by somersaulting forward with one hand on the ground and the other behind him.

"Here we go again."

"I thought he was over that sickness of his already."

The riders behind Dug'mhar facepalmed at the returning illness of their clan chief. They shook their head but they can't do anything, they just hoped that for the best.

Dramatically raising his head ever so slowly, Dug'mhar stared at the warriors of the Skalsser Tribe with a serious look in his eyes before a mocking smile made their way to his lips.

"This perfect warrior can take you all on. Look! Look closely at these perfect muscles. The perfect body, this perfect smile. I am all that is perfect, just so perfect." he started posing in his bodybuilder poses again and flexed his muscles. "The gods will smite you if you try to harm their most perfect creation. Bow down to my perfectness! Bow down! And basked in the glory of my perfection. You are all blessed that this perfect being has decided to show mercy on you or else you will all be perfectly gone." Dug'mhar continued while still flexing his muscles.

The members of the Skalsser Tribe looked at each other in confusion, as they can't figure out if their visitor was plain stupid or something was wrong with his head. All the orcs of the tribe stared at Xok'nath and waited for his orders. The chieftain of the Skalsser Tribe felt like he was being insulted by their visitor, which made him want to hurl his axe towards the posturing orc.

"Taste my axe!" Xok'nath shouted as he spun two times before releasing his axe towards Dug'mhar.

"Watch out!"

"Evade it!"

"Chief!"

The riders behind Dug'mhar shouted as they ushered their steeds forward to surround their leader. Xok'nath's axe bounced off the armor of the Rhakaddon belonging to Dug'mhar with a resounding clang. "You dare attack this perfect one! Prepare for the retribution of the gods!" Dug'mhar shouted as bolts of iron sailed through the air.

Feeling danger, Xok'nath leaned back and evaded a few bolts of iron that were meant for him and took down some of his tribe members. The unlucky orcs were hit with the iron bolts that came out of nowhere. Crouching down and looking around to find the origin of the attack, Xok'nath felt nervous as he still couldn't tell where their enemies are at.

"Argh!" he grunted as the skull that was on his left shoulder was shattered by an iron bolt and wounded him. Despite it was just a shallow wound, the impact of the iron bolt on his shoulder was still painful as it momentarily went numb.

With the cover of the surrounding thickets, the marksmen of the Verakhs shot their weapons towards the members of the Skalsser Tribe. Their primary target was the chief of their foes, but they found it hard to have a clear shot at the orc, who was making use of its warriors to shield himself.

"If you have a clear shot, take it. The sooner they lose their leader, the sooner this fight will end." the leader of the First Squad muttered as he observed the chaos that was going on.

The Skalsser Tribe warriors panicked as they didn't know where the attacks were coming from and who are their enemies as one by one their allies just fell down bleeding with bolts of iron sticking out their bodies.

"Hahahaha! I told you, you will be punished for attacking this perfect being! How does it feel!?" Dug'mhar mocked their foes as he mounted atop his steed and distanced themselves away from the panicking orcs, who were now hurling their weapons at them as retaliation for the ghostly attacks that were assaulting them.

"Back to tribe! Hurry!" Xok'nath finally decided that they were at a disadvantage as they were out in the open and are in the mercy of their unseen enemies. He felt annoyed as this will be the first time that he will retreat from a fight, but he can't do anything against foes that didn't show themselves. Being attacked with no way of fighting back was something that he never experienced before and if the situation continues, he will lose more warriors.

Like a tide they came and, like a tide, they receded back into their tribe. The Skalsser orc scampered away in chaos as they all didn't want to be the next one to fall. They left behind their wounded comrades who are still breathing but no longer have the strength to move and retreat.

"Cowards!" Xok'nath looked back and shouted towards Dug'mhar and his hidden allies before turning around and entering the safety of their tribe. There were wooden huts and small fences surrounding the entrance of the Skalsser Tribe made of piled up bones, probably from their victims of slaughter.

"Tsk... Idiots..." Dug'mhar muttered before leading his steed forward to inspect their wounded enemies. "Do we help them, chief?" one of the riders asked as they stared at the bleeding orcs. "We must. It's what we were taught to. Just make sure that your safety isn't compromised. Knock them out if you have to." Dug'mhar answered as he dismounted from his steed to help the orc, who had an iron bolt embedded on his thigh.

Reaching down towards the iron bolt, Dug'mhar left himself open for an attack, which the wounded orc took advantage of and tried to choke the one who was about to help him. Dug'mhar had his hand on the tip of the iron bolt and ignored the actions of his foe, who was trying to choke him.

Smiling mischievously, Dug'mhar pulled out the iron bolt halfway before forcing it deep inside the thigh of the orc again, earning a scream of pain from him. "I can do this all day." he muttered, then pulled the iron bolt halfway again before inserting it back, making the poor orc howl in pain and thrash around, which he prevented by sitting atop him. His weight and the weight of his armor prevented the suffering orc from rolling away.

Slowly pulling out the iron bolt, Dug'mhar was about to insert it back it again when the orc shook his head and trembled in fear before passing out. "Tsk... You're no fun." Dug'mhar clicked his tongue as he got off the now passed out orc.

The other wounded orcs became docile and didn't attempt to do anything suspicious, as they didn't want to suffer the same fate as their comrade. Dug'mhar and his companions loaded on their steeds, fifteen wounded orcs belonging to the Skalsser Tribe, and retreated towards their camp and report to their commander what happened.

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