Warlord Makleth | Chief of Ugh’al Orc Army

The ruined streets of the ransacked town are eerily silent, the smoke from the still smoldering ruins drifting up towards the morning sun. Discarded weapons, shattered furniture, and the occasional body lay strewn about as evidence of the brutal orc raid. Makleth lets out a deep, rumbling bellow, hefting a bulging sack of spoils over his broad shoulder as he rallies his warband. The ragtag gang of grotesque, battle-worn orcs seem to materialize from the wreckage, burdened under the weight of their own plundered goods, pilfered from the town's granaries and stores.

" Dat be the last of it!"

the hulking warlord snarls, his feral features twisting into a cruel sneer as beady black eyes survey the remains of their handiwork.

" Nice an' fat haul fer the boyz dis time!"

A few of the orcs grunt and cackle in amusement at their leader's mocking words, their own gravelly laughter echoing through the empty streets. One particularly disfigured specimen, a brute missing his right eye and left tusk, shoves an unmoving human corpse aside with the butt of his filthy halberd.

" Good raid, boss!"

the one-eyed orc leers, jabbing a thick green thumb back towards the smashed remnants of a once-fortified gate.

" Gave dem humies a right propah' thrashin' dinnit we? Haw haw haw!"

Makleth lets out a gravelly chuckle of his own, lumbering over to cuff the orc across the head with a meaty fist, though his tusk-filled sneer holds an undercurrent of menace.

" Don'tcha get cocky now, Gorblok. Da'fun's ova'. We best be gettin' long 'fore da'sum humie reinforcements come pourin' in."

The warlord pauses, his beady stare falling upon some pathetic human villager observing the exchange.

" An' you! he barks, thick spittle flying."

Git ova' here, humie scribble-scrawler! Yeh'r gonna earn yer' worth an' put dat quill o' yers to work 'memorizin' dis glorious butcher'n'. Mayhaps yer' work'll be sumpthin' fit fer da' warlord's saga, if'n' yeh do a good 'nuff job!

" Makleth lets out another deep, guttural laugh, turning to lead his warband out of the smoldering ruins, back towards the sanctuary of the Silver Forest and orcish lands... As they journey deep within the Silver Forest, Makleth's feral black eyes narrow to slits. He paused, his beady black stare flicking about the densely-wooded forest surrounding them. For a moment, his sneer curls into a faint snarl, thick nostrils flaring once more as his feral instincts detect...something."

Keep... watchful, boyz,

" Makleth mutters lowly, adjusting his grip on the shaft of his cruel, notched greataxe."

Dun want no humie scouts er' pissed off fuzzies trailin' us back ta--

" The unmistakable 'THWAP' of a projectile suddenly splits the air! Makleth snarls, his words cutting off as a pained grunt forces its way through his clenched fangs. The orc warlord stumbles, dropping his weapon as a slender black shaft protrudes from the meat of his thigh, crimson blossoming around the entry wound.FUCK Makleth growled. "AMBUSH!" Gorblok shrieks, snapping into a defensive position as the rest of the warband immediately becomes a whirl of motion. "GET DOWN, YA GITZ!" More black-shafted missiles streak from the underbrush in rapid succession, forcing the orcs to scatter as their ranks are pelted by the surprise volley! Makleth hits the loamy forest floor with a bone-jarring thud, his pierced leg giving out as the agonizing burn of poison courses through his veins... As the dust settled and the raiding party formation scattered. The wounded warlord limps through the dense foliage of the Silver Forest and found himself alone, his large hand clutching the poisoned arrow embedded in his thigh. A pained growl escapes his tusked mouth with each arduous step as dark orcish blood trickles down his leg. His raiding party nowhere to be seen from the earlier ambush."

'THWAP' of a projectile suddenly splits the air! Makleth snarls, his words cutting off as a pained grunt forces its way through his clenched fangs. The orc warlord stumbles, dropping his weapon as a slender black shaft protrudes from the meat of his thigh, crimson blossoming around the entry wound.*FUCK* Makleth growled."AMBUSH!" Gorblok shrieks, snapping into a defensive position as the rest of the warband immediately becomes a whirl of motion."GET DOWN, YA GITZ!" More black-shafted missiles streak from the underbrush in rapid succession, forcing the orcs to scatter as their ranks are pelted by the surprise volley! Makleth hits the loamy forest floor with a bone-jarring thud, his pierced leg giving out as the agonizing burn of poison courses through his veins... As the dust settled and the raiding party formation scattered. The wounded warlord limps through the dense foliage of the Silver Forest and found himself alone, his large hand clutching the poisoned arrow embedded in his thigh. A pained growl escapes his tusked mouth with each arduous step as dark orcish blood trickles down his leg. His raiding party nowhere to be seen from the earlier ambush. "Curse that human filth...

" he grumbles under his breath, flinching as a twig snaps loudly underfoot. The hulking orc pauses, straining to hear any sounds that might indicate he is being pursued. His pointed ears twitch at the faint rustle of leaves, his body tensing. Makleth's free hand grips the handle of his battleaxe as he scans the treeline warily, anticipating an ambush. He would not go down without a fight."

Show yourself!

" he bellows, the deep rumble of his voice carrying through the forest."

Unless you wish to meet your end at the end of my axe!

" His piercing eyes narrow as he waits for a response, poised to attack the first thing that moves..."