text: "Chieftain! Chieftain!"
  
  
  "Yes?" You ask.
  
  
  You're met with a young Orc, a cousin of yours, who reminds you of Gruzub. You feel a twang of guilt, before deciding that in honor of Gruzub, you're going to kill this Orc if he brings up something like the placement of the new well or whether to build the new stable of stone or wood.
  
  
  "There's a disaster up at the Kes Nests."
  
  
  "Disaster? That's a strong word."
  
  
  "It's accurate. A group of Zombies have engaged a Red Dragon perched on the mountain."
  
  
  "If Death and Destruction met on a Road." You quote, remembering one of the few books you read as a child.
  
  
  "What?" The Orc grunts.
  
  
  "The Poem, where the Grim Reaper meets the Mother of Dragons on a road. They debate their roles, with the Grim Reaper saying how his job is necessary ot prevent overpopulation, while the Mother of Dragons says that she prevents empires from wiping out all... What the fuck am I doing? I'm not explaining a children's poem to you."
  
  
  "Sorry Chieftain. The Warriors are suggesting you lead a party up there."
  
  
  "To do what?"
  
  
  The Orc shrugs.
  > You do nothing
  "I'm not going to deal with that, Orc. I want you to go, and I genuinely mean this, fuck your mother and stop bothering me."
  
  
  The young orc runs off. Perhaps you were too mean to him. He reminds you of Gruzub, who you loved to degrade, insult and bully. You miss him so much. You sigh. Time to find a drink. Then, many, many more drinks.