As Lyerin stood amidst the chaos of the training session, his eyes surveyed the tribe members battling the monstrous creatures before them.
The air was thick with tension and the constant roars of beasts.
He could smell the earth as it churned under the heavy feet of his Pig Orcs, the scent of sweat, dirt, and blood filling the space around him.
His tribe was improving, albeit slowly, but they still hesitated when faced with creatures that were more terrifying in appearance than in strength.
Lyerin barked out orders, his voice cutting through the panic like a blade, urging them to act faster, to stop hesitating.
"That thing is weak!" Lyerin yelled, pointing at a beast that had the appearance of a gnarled, twisted mass of limbs and eyes but was no more dangerous than a deer. "Stop cowering! Strike it down!"