Wazrárz waited impatiently as his subordinates readied for another raid. Two groups would be released in the wilds. A light battalion of orcs would sweep near the Great River, uprooting the hated elves that crossed their path. He had been told that a patrol and one of the Dark Lord's loyal servant would await his people there and give new orders.
He looked towards where the wolf-riders were restlessly waiting their turn to be fielded as well. Wazrárz was pleased, the draugs would bring in more "fresh meat" that should satisfy his men, who was already growing "soft" to his accord.
"Take as many prisoners as you can ALIVE!" He growled. "The Lord has need of them - but should any succumb to injuries..." He left it unfinished, an evil glint in his eyes. His men and draugs knew his meaning and a chilling laughter answered him. They were quite starved for fresh blood and "meat".
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