“We have won the day, my Lord,” Rollo said, panting.
The field was littered with bodies. Orcs, mostly, but a few were their own men. Smoke rose from scattered holes in the ground and from some of the corpses.
Yink walked up, with an orcish Mage stumbling along behind him. “My Lord! May I present—?”
Rollo interrupted, “Is this enemy your prisoner? How dare you bring him into the presence of the—”
“What? Oh, don’t worry. Bwolgitch is an old friend.”
“This creature’s magic killed three score of our men!”
Yink sighed, “It’s just business, Rollo, don’t take it personally.”
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