The Orks acted like they were cornered. They knew that I was hunting them, their numbers were half what they once were and most had died by my hand. When they discovered the three dead jailers - I was nowhere in sight - but they knew it was me.
Their leader, the biggest and ugliest of them all let them argue while the marbles rolled around in his tiny brain. I watched from the top of a four story building as he barked instructions and they marched as a group to the manor. Despite it being one of the few stone buildings I was delighted.
I was over politicians. Weak cowards who hid behind the strength of others and played games with our lives. If the orks killed the mayor I wouldn't lose a wink of sleep and I certainly wouldn't lift a finger to help him.