Snippet #2688851

The Orc groaned. Here he was, standing infront of a 'civilized' town wall. Here he was, again, bows pointed at him, as sounds of alarm was sounded. Here he was, yet again, judged for being a greenskin.

Idiots.

Of course, atleast the woman in his arms, which he began to let down onto her feet at her struggle, screamed for them to stop. Then there was some git with a giant hat that acted all important up there... He didn't mind it, but it would be better not to scream 'Orc! Orc! Orc!' In the first place.

"Y'all are a bunch'o soddin' gits, pointin' bows 'en 'rrows, 'en sticks at'ah lone orc! Wha! Woz ya' think I'm gunn'ah do 'eh!? Punch down ya wallz!? Toss up 'ah stables beddin'? Da' worst I 'ould do 'ez turn 'round 'en moon ya!"

He growled, crossing his arms. "'Et takes true 'allz ta' not kill'ah git in da' foice a' dang'ah o' fear! Now, if ya' dun' 'ave da' 'equired genital's, I'll b'eh sure ta' instruct ya' on what 'appens when ya' shoot sum'on who 'az a 'air." The orc shouted out, staring up at the battlements, his arms crossed, his feet spaced, ready.