The Next Morning...

You sit on horseback with a large group of twenty Orcs and ten of your men, on a hunting trip. It seems more like a chance

"The deer of the Spine are terrific game. Massive creatures with no fat, all muscle," Karstuk gloats. "Nothing like the weak, pathetic creatures that can barely stand that breed south of here."

Two of the lead Orcs pause, raising their bows and firing almost instantly. The arrows find themselves in the necks of a pair of deer that frolic at the edge of your line of sight, killing them instantly.

"Ha! A show of Blackfury skill!" Karstuk gloats again.

"Your men are powerful archers. Almost a shame to waste them here, hunting game rather than on a battlefield," you note.

Karstuk grunts in response, charming as always.

"I have a vision of an Orc settlement here without outside influences, where we can hunt and grow strong. I won't throw that away, Abaddon."

You look around at the other Orcs surrounding you, wondering which one is Shaga's man. She hasn't told you so you won't act suspiciously to any one Orc in particular.

"We could build something far stronger than that, Karstuk. We..."

Suddenly, one of the Orcs frantically raises his bow, aiming it. He knocks his bow against the horse's neck, sending the creature galloping off. The Orc falls off his horse, releasing the bow. The arrow sails through the air, stabbing into Karstuk's neck. Karstuk sits there for a minute, a look of shock and surprise on his face.

"Impressive," Lilith says inside your head. "That took skill to make it look like such an accident."

There's a moment of stillness, the only noise being the Orc hitting the floor and the horse galloping off, but Karstuk falls from his horse, blood pooling around him. There's a frantic shout, as two Orcs quickly grab the assassin, slamming his face into the ground. They quickly **** his hands behind his back, tying his hands together.

"Don't kill him!" an Orc yells. "It's the place of the chieftain to sentence him."

"The Chieftain's dead!" one of Karstuk's berserkers shouts.

"Bring him to Maka. Maka will solve it," another says.

Almost bored, you quickly head back to the settlement, the assassin being dragged after the horse and Karstuk's body being carried on horseback. You follow them, and it's not long before you end up in the camp. You watch, bemused at the frantic attempts to form an assembly. You see Shaga appear from her hut, looking shocked and upset.

"Karstuk! Karstuk!" she screams, running over to her brother.

A new Orc appears, one you haven't seen before. He's a huge beast, wearing black, spiky armor without a helmet. A tattoo of a beast in black and red ink runs up his neck and the side of his face. He heaves a massive battleaxe in his hand, a single-edged blade with a large, curving spike on the other end. He snarls as he looks at the display in front of him, bashing his fist against his chest.

"What in the fucking name of almighty fucking Furiosa is this shit?"

"This swine killed the Chieftain!"

The new Orc, Bloodaxe, pauses as he considers this. He walks over to the horse where his brother lies dead, pausing to raise his head and stare into his eyes.

"A fucking ****. What a cock-sucking way for you to die, brother."

"It was an accident," the assassin yells. "I didn't mean to, please."

"An accident's even more piss-poor and shit, I suppose," Bloodaxe says. "This makes me the big old fucking chieftain, doesn't it?"

"It does," one of Karstuk's berserkers says.

"Well fuck me in the ass," Bloodaxe says, staring at his brother. "Well fuck this. Fuck dying from an arrow to the neck hunting, fuck spending the rest of my life in this fucking village and fuck every cunt who says otherwise. Fuck all of this cockshit."

The other Orcs fall silent as they stare at Bloodaxe. It seems the new chieftain lacks subtlety in all fields, and is already.

"I ain't dying in this village," Bloodaxe says. "We reclaim our heritage, we wage war like only orcs can and we get shit done. Everyone understand?"

"But sir! The chieftain said we should stay here!" one of Karstuk's berserkers says.

"I'm the fucking chieftain, and I want to march south with the demon-fucker here."

Well, this Orc is one of little words, or planning, or thinking. You're beginning to like him.

"What

"What?" Bloodaxe says, taken back. "Oh yeah, the fucker who offed 'stuk. I frankly don't give a flying fuck."

"Then we kill him!" one of the Berserkers says.

"You're too fucking biased," Bloodaxe says. "Let the demon-fucker decide what the fuck. He's the only non-biased cunt here. Demon-fucker, what do you have to say?"