[Malcu Luinthol]

Unglusch ducked, avoiding the blow Pirk had aimed for his head before deftly rolling around behind his opponent and thrusting his spear towards him. Pirk wasn't falling for this trick however, he quickly parried the blow with his sword before leaping up and pinning Unglusch to the ground.
Unglusch looked strangely calm for somebody who was about to die, and Pirk paused to wonder about this. It was a fatal error. From the shadows of a nearby hedgerow Grulfang the warg leapt upon his master's assailant, tearing at his throat. A few rips later and Pirk was dead.
Slowly, Unglusch rose to his feet, tired and wounded from the combat. He sneered, noting his crafty victory. He would return to camp and sieze command, then those tarks would get what they deserved... Death.
He drank a deep draught from a flask that he carried by his side, numbing the pain of his wound, before mounting Grulfang and heading back to the orc base.
He heard loud cries and shouts as he approached. Voices of men. Voices of tarks.
All was not as it should be. Perhaps he had waited too long to attack. Perhaps he had attacked to soon. If Pirk had remained alive now he could have escaped much more easily. It was too late to ponder on the past now. He would see what was happening in the camp, and claim victory if it was possible, or flee as a lucky survivor otherwise. It had worked before, why shouldn't it work again. His lord would surely favour his bravery anyway. With a sneer he dismounted and stealthily led Grulfang into the camp...