Before the Orc King could speak again, the mage interjected, his eyes sharp as he studied Findir's sweating, exhausted form. "Do you really only want gold?" he asked, his tone calm yet filled with suspicion.
Findir's fake exhaustion morphed into rage, and he let out a roar so convincing that even the gods themselves might have been moved. "Gold?! You think I care about gold?" He slammed his fist into his chest, his face twisted in raw fury. "I want revenge! The Troll King and his army destroyed my entire village! My family! My friends! My... my everything!"
The Orc King's eyes gleamed with approval. He leaned back, a vicious grin tugging at his monstrous lips. "You want revenge... Then you shall have it!" His next shout echoed so loudly through the chamber that it nearly shattered Findir's eardrums. The ground itself seemed to quake beneath the force of his roar, the entire camp shaking as his voice traveled throughout the orcish stronghold. "PREPARE FOR WAR!"