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Ugburz limped along behind his troop, cursing under his breath at the Elf who had got him in the leg with an arrow. The wound wasn't deep but it was making it difficult to move as quietly as Glūtkask had demanded when they set off and the orcs around him shot him glares as he shuffled along. His only source of comfort was the memory of the way he had killed the Elf who had shot the blasted thing at him. He grinned cruelly as he remembered the gurgling sound the creature had made as he had stabbed his knife into its back.
He hadn't seen a great deal of the battle as he'd been at the back of the regiment when it marched in and had been fighting on the sidelines, unable to get any further in due to the flailing of various arms and limbs. It would have been more dangerous trying to get through his fellow Orcs than fighting Elves the way things were going. It was only later after the order to retreat and their arrival back at the camp that he realised this apparent panic had in fact been exactly that. Those at the front had been caught between Elves and Dwarves and while they were trying to retreat the orcs behind were trying to advance, causing the crush.
Back at the camp it soon became apparent that Glūtkask was not happy with the way things had gone. Ugburz had quickly made himself scarce, trying to patch up the hole in his leg while he had the chance. The night had passed quickly if coldly, the remaining orcs had been swiftly organised into lines and they had set off before the sun had even cleared the horizon. They had been walking now for hours and Ugburz was both hungry and in pain, but it didn't look as though they were going to be stopping until Glūtkask had marched himself out of the foul mood he was in. Muttering under his breath Ugburz hefted his pack further up on his shoulders and walked on.
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