Incredulity, then compliance.

"Little Girl, where would YOU get the twenty thousand that is demanded in payment?" The orcish war-chief demands in his guttural bastardization of the Common Tongue.

"That is none of your concern Gorcabad, all that matters is that I CAN pay and WILL: to your Clan Lord: in person!" You call back across the 20 feet or so separating you.

"You are much changed young one." He responds with a note of approval. "Not five days ago I carried off your sister AGAIN after a party of adventurers 'rescued' her and you ran after me pleading for me to disobey my orders and leave her with you: whence comes this sudden defiance and willingness to bargain?" He asks, amused.

"Those five days have changed much Gorcabad, this afternoon I killed a man for annoying me, and would do so again if I was given cause: I can see by the blood that flows freely from a thousand cuts that you too might be felled by one of the bombs that I bear with me: will you chance it or take me to see my sister?" You call back, knowing that among the many things orcs respect is a show of bravado.

"HA! No bomb your shop sells could bring me down, even weakened as I am, but if you would risk trying for your sister's sake I cannot help but take you to meet our Clan Lord for you to negotiate for her release!" Gorcabad says with a grin, stowing his axe on his back and taking a horn from his pack, which he blows to signal the end of the raid and call all the surviving orcs to retreat. Then in a move as sudden as it is unexpected he charges at you and sweeps you up in one strong arm, placing you on pommel of his dire wolf's saddle, exactly where you have seen your sister time and again.

"Right yourself if you can without falling off!" He gufaws as he rides out of the gates, the other orcs streaming behind him. "It will be a long ride back to Garag Dorn!"