text: As you get closer to him, you arc your sword over your head, aiming for his neck.  The Imperial soldier slams it away with the flat of his blade and, mid-push, brings his blade back down.  The sword cuts through your thick leather armor, biting into your shoulder.
  
  You wince and grunt as he pulls his sword, the both of you passing each other and turning in preparation to charge again.  Behind him, you see that the orcs seem to have pushed the Imperial horsemen back a bit, and the orcs on the hill have wounded several archers in each column. 
  
  The battle is going well enough for the orcs. 
  
  As you charge the Imperial knight again, you consider your next move.
  > run him through
  The horses charge forward, the Imperial knight holds his sword out in front of him, ready for whatever may come next.  You arc your sword around your head, and you see his arm flex to deflect the strike. 
  
  As you near striking range, you whip the sword around counter clockwise, pulling your elbow back and plunging forward.  The knight manages to knock your sword aside, flicking his wrist and stabbing the tip of his blade into your chest.  The momentum causes the tip of the blade to just come out through your back. 
  
  Pain shoots through your body and you gasp.  The force of the sword pushing into you causes you to fall back, but you manage to catch onto your horse, stopping you from falling off.  You clutch the wound as the horses circle back around.
  
  Looking back you can see the Imperials are starting to overwhelm the orcs.  How can this be?  There are far more orcs than those human scum. 
  
  White hot pain shoots through your chest again, and you clutch the wound.  Blood sticks to your hand as you pull it away.
  
  "Damn it," you say.
  
  The Imperial knight twirls his sword, daring you to come at him again.  Such arrogance.
  
  You decide to oblige him, charging forward.  He prepares his sword, expecting you to strike again.
  
  This time you pull up your axe, but hold it down behind the horse.  You strike with the sword, and he predictably parries it.  This time you slam your axe blade into his side, and as you circle back around you smirk as you see that... ..
  
  There's no blood?
  
  You see the spot on his side where you swung the axe, but the robe is just ripped, the silver coat gleaming in the sunlight. 
  
  Is this some kind of magic coat? Or maybe it is some kind of metal. You've never seen anyone wear metal to avoid battle injuries.  You've also never actually seen a human before either.
  
  As the knight prepares to charge again, your body begins to feel weak.  You're losing blood fast, so you are going to have to finish this or he will.  The knight charges towards you... 
  
   
  > throw your axe at the Knight (W)
  You sit there panting, and for a moment you see that the orcs on the hill have finally come down, and helped turn the fight around for the orcs. 
  
  The soldier readies his sword, and you lift your axe, hefting it forward.
  
  It flies, whipping through the air.  The blade buries into the horses forehead, it lets out a pained neigh and drops forward.  The knight flies forward and off the horse, crying out as he does. 
  
  You hear a crunch as he hits the ground, and he rolls to a stop.  Trotting forward, you prepare your sword to finish him.
  
  The knight grunts and feebly tries to stand up, but one of his arms is horribly bent.  He loses his balance and falls before he can get up.
  
  You feel dizzy as you raise your sword, pain shooting through your arm.
  
  Before you can strike him down, you hear a loud cry emanating out from behind you.
  
   
  > for the Emperor! (W)
  You turn your horse, clutching your wounds.  From out of the trees, an enormous group of humans comes rushing out, screaming and yelling.  You notice they are quite different from the knights. While some of them have the silver coats, most of them just have some kind of padding and the Imperial soldier robes.  Their boots, gloves, and helmets don't look anywhere near as nice as the knights'.
  
  These must be the lowly soldiers of the Empire, but there sure are a lot of them.  Wincing, you turn as you see the lawless orcs bring up a cry, charging towards the humans.  You watch as your comrades also charge the humans, so you decide you should as well.
  
  Galloping forward, you prepare your axe.  A battle of strength versus numbers, you decide that Gigalak will decide the winner today. 
  
  You trample a couple of humans, their cries ringing out.  The axe bites into another, and as he dies his sword nicks your arm.  You slash, hack, batter, and even punch one.  A dying soldier cries out, digging his dagger into your side.  You gasp and slam your axe handle into his eye, a squishing sound resounds as blood squirts out and onto your leg.  He lets out a blood-curdling scream as he flails, soon going limp and falling to the ground. 
  
  With the dagger still in your side, you circle back, needing to fight through a few more soldiers to do so.  Panting, you see that the battle is being lost for the orcs, but some still fight on, despite their injuries and overwhelming odds. 
  
  Chief Greusim charges into the middle of it, laying waste to soldier after soldier.  His mighty club denting helmets and cracking skulls, breaking arms and busting jaws. 
  
  You watch as he cries out, someone plunging their sword into his side.  Gasping, you ride forward to save him.  But there are too many soldiers to fight through, and before you can reach him the grunts pull Greusim from his horse, stabbing, slashing, punching, and beating.  You see his own club being raised to be used against him.
  
  All the other orcs in your tribe watch as the chief goes down, along with the other orcs he had around him. 
  
  There's just too many, you'll never fight through them all.
  
  "Fall back! Fall back!" some orc cries out.
  
  As you all do so, the lawless orcs seem shocked as to why.  Before they can get away, the Imperial troops have swept them up and begin to butcher most of them.  Few escape, and you even swing one onto your horse as you ride away.  You trample and hack several Imperial soldiers on your way out. 
  
  You all ride into the forest, lucky to have escaped death on this day.  The same cannot be said for many others. 
  
  You exchange glances with Rolomag, who nods and pokes his chin to the valley.  Although you don't like the idea, you all will have to go there to recover and make plans... .
  > new Problems
  You sit there by the fire.  Rolomag sits across from you, taking  a swig from a flask of orcish whiskey before handing it to you.  You gladly accept, the bitter substance burning your throat as it goes down.
  
  The camp is silent except for the tribeless orcs squabbling over something.  
  
  "We're gonna have to go back," Rolomag says.
  
  "What? Back where?" you ask.
  
  "The village.  We need more orcs.  We have to get these Imperials out of our lands."
  
  "I don't think it's going to work so well," you say, "there's so many of them."
  
  "What's wrong with you?" Rolomag says, "I used to hear stories about you from returning orcs in our village."
  
  "That was years ago.  This is now.  Greusim was right.  We can't fight them."
  
  "Yeah, well those animals tore him apart.  It's our job to get vengeance."
  
  You sit and stare into the fire, realizing the Imperials are probably already marching further into Orcin.  Grunting as you stand, you walk over to the wild group of lawless orcs. 
  
  "Who of you is your leader?" you ask.
  
  "I am!" one orc cries as he stands.
  
  "No, I am!" another yells.
  
  They both start brawling, savagely punching and wrestling each other.  You shake your head and look to the rest.  A tall orc stands, one tooth protruding up from his underbite, the other chipped, warpaint in the shape of a red handprint on his face.  His raven black hair runs wild along his head, the sides shaved as is popular with warring orcs. 
  
  "I am Grolik," he says, "leader of the Red Handed orcs band."
  
  You extend your hand and shake his in the traditional orc handshake. 
  
  "I am grateful for your assistance," Grolik says. "We probably wouldn't have made it out of there."
  
  "We orcs need to stick together," you say, "but I wonder.  How did this all start?"
  
  Grolik looks to the side and shuffles his feet.
  
  "We... .uhh, we thought they were invading and tried to stop them."
  
  You squint your eyes at him.
  
  "You weren't raiding Imperial villages on their side of the border?" you ask.
  
  "Well... uh... .no?" he says.
  
  "You realize you've put Orcin in jeopardy," you say.
  
  "We can probably work something out with the Empire," Grolik says. "Hell, they probably think they've won."
  
  "I have half a mind to turn you over to them," you say, "but I just want to get this all settled, and go back home."
  
  Grolik laughs hard at this.
  
  "What? Have you gotten soft?" he asks, "what kind of orc are you?"
  
  Before he can react, your slam your fist into his face, bowling him over.  Some Red Hands grab their nearest weapons and stand up.  Several of your tribesmen prepare for a fight as well.
  
  "No, no.  It's alright," Grolik says. "Don't worry about him.  He's just a fool."
  
  Grolik snarls as he stands.
  
  "But if you ever do that again," he says, "it won't end well for you."
  
  You just watch as he goes back to his spot next to the fire and guzzles some alcohol.
  
  Grunting, you walk back over to Rolomag.
  
  "Just as I thought," you say.  "We shouldn't even be involved.  They started this mess."
  
  Rolomag's eyes widen for a moment before going back to staring sleepily at the fire.
  
  "We still lost good friends there," he says. "We need to right this."
  
   
  
  The next day, Dekard and three other orcs ride back to the village to get some help.  You're sure some of the orcs will be happy to have some fighting to do.  Although you can't be sure where this will lead, you will be happy to keep the Imperials away.
  
  You sit back, closing your eyes to rest.
  > Two Months Later...
  The wind plays along your hair, the warm morning sunshine gracing your face.  The rocky outcrop you lay upon offering you a complete view of the Imperial camp ahead. 
  
  The past two months had been spent watching and tracking the Imperials.  Their move into Orcin has been slow, and, other than a few minor fights with other random lawless bands, they have not done much. 
  
  You watch soldiers milling about, their purple and black standards dotting the camp.  Stern officers watch younger soldiers and recruits train, practice, and do drills.  Oddly, it looks much like an orcish war band preparing for battle.  Only, the humans have a lot more wagons and crates of supplies than orcs, who mostly live off the land as they go.
  
  The camp of soldiers still outnumbers your group, even with back up from the camp and some more tribeless orcs rallying to the Red Handed cause.  Grolik's band are even more impatient and bloodthirsty than regular orcs. 
  
  Grolik sits behind you, mumbling something as he sharpens his axe blade.  His plan is just to march in and start slaughtering people, but you know you'll only be overwhelmed and killed.  These soldiers are too numerous and too skilled for those tactics. 
  
  You're going to have to go with another plan, somewhat against your nature, but maybe it'll help win this fight.
  
  Almost on cue, a column of soldiers marches onto the road running through the camp.  They all have their helmets and silver coats, as well as varying degree of light weapons. 
  
  "Humans sure do dress strangely for battle," you say.
  
  Leading the column is a knight on a horse, looking very similar to the knights you first encountered. 
  
  You signal the orcs around you, slowly making your way down the rocky hill. 
  
  "Come on," Grolik complains. "Let's charge 'em!"
  
  "No, we must wait."
  
  Putting your finger to your lips, you follow the Imperials as they move through the forest.  They move quite slowly, and some don't really seem to even be paying attention. 
  > circle
  Your orcs faithfully carry out your plan, most moving ahead and some around the Imperial soldiers, until you have created a c-shape around them.
  
  Every orc has the same tools for fighting these humans.  As they march forward, you prepare to throw one of your spears.  Lifting it, you watch as the knight stops and looks to his right.  As you chuck the spear, he looks ahead.  Somehow he manages to duck and slip off the horse, hitting the ground and rolling before the spear can hit him.
  
  You watch as it harmlessly bounces off a soldiers helmet.  Once an eerie silence, the area now erupts with men and orcs shouting, as orcs fire arrows relentlessly at the soldiers.  As you notch an arrow, the knight lays down behind his fallen horse. 
  
  You observe the arrows and most spears bouncing off the silver coats they wear.  Although some are killed when they are hit in spots the coat doesn't cover, such as arms, legs, and their faces.  You are surprised to see one spear actually pierce the armor, but it can't have gone too deep as the soldier is still standing. 
  
  The soldiers hide behind their shields and armor, most of the projectiles becoming useless.  The orcs get sick of all this shooting and decide to charge the Imperials.  As you draw your axe and run forth, you see the Imperials making a line of shields with other Imperials standing between them and firing arrows through.
  
  The orcs are pierced by arrows as their axes and swords bounce uselessly off the shields.  Getting closer, you watch an Imperial bash an orc with his shield before slicing through his padded leather shirt with his sword.
  
  You rush in, throwing your shoulder into one of them.  The human doesn't quite fall, but you ram your axe head's spike into his face.  He cries out in pain and falls, and you barely have time to react before other soldiers close the gap.  You leap back as three blades are swung and jabbed at you.
  > break
  While some Imperials have been killed, they are quickly whittling down your numbers.  To your left, you see the knight caught out of the line, trying to rally his soldiers.  You watch as an orc chops at his head with an axe, but it bounces off his helmet.  The knight rams his sword blade through the orc's armpit, pushing the dying orc off. 
  
  Another orc slashes, the blade harmlessly skidding across the helmet.  Before the orc is cut down, he slams the flat of the axe on the soldier's helm, slightly denting it. 
  
  You look to the Imperial with the protruding spear from his silver coat, and the knights dented helmet.  You get an idea... 
  > smash a rock on the knight
  You run up to the knight, parrying a jab, tackling him and throwing his sword to the ground.  The knight rolls to the side, slamming his fist into your stomach as he comes up to a crouch.  It barely affects you, but he reaches his sword.
  
  As he grabs it, he stumbles and, seeing your moment, you grab a large rock.  The knight twirls around, crying out and trying to take your head.  You duck, the blade swooshing over your head.  With a mighty roar, you stand, slamming the rock onto his helmet.
  
  The sound of metal crashing attacks your ears.  The Empire's knight crumples to the ground, a large dent in his helm.  You kneel down, slamming the rock into his helmet again and again.  The helmet crushing inward unnaturally and the man's body spasming as blood seeps out from under his helmet. 
  > retreat
  The orcs give a cry as the knight dies, and the Imperials try to execute a controlled retreat.  Some orcs mimic you in using force to crush the helmets and pierce the silver coats.  You notice though, that most of the weapons used seem heavily damaged after.
  
  Picking up an Imperial shield, you catch up to some unfortunate and ram the shield into his helmet, denting it.  You slam the point of the shield into his face until it is a pink, bloody, unrecognizable mass of flesh. 
  
  At this point, the soldiers are in full flight, attempting to reach the safety of the camp.  It is not too much longer before all of the Imperials lay butchered on the ground.
  
  Panting and covered in sweat and blood, you lean against a tree.  You watch as the orcs loot the corpses, taking Imperial weapons. 
  
  Curious, you walk over to one of the bodies, removing his silver coat.  It clanks together as you move it about and is heavier than you thought.  Peering closely, it appears as though it is made up of many little rings of metal.  You fold it up and stash it inside an Imperial soldiers satchel, which you also take. 
  
  You assist the orcs with collecting the dead and wounded, intent on better preparing for your next encounter...
  > Two Years Later...
  The past two years have been successful in repelling the Empire.  While you wish it didn't have to come to this, you know that these humans can't freely move their army around Orcin without consequence. 
  
  Shortly after ambushing that patrol two years ago, you led the orcs into a nighttime raid on the camp.  Your warriors cut throats, burned tents and supplies, and left few survivors.  Since then, the human generals have sent more and more troops to try to contain the situation. 
  
  Once this had happened, you enlisted the help of a couple of the other surrounding orc tribes.  Using your newfound guerilla tactics, you managed to keep the skirmishes to the forests at the borders of Orcin. 
  
  In the meantime, your fellows had created some advancements to cracking the metal shells of the Imperials.  Heavy tipped arrows and spears for piercing the chainmail armor, as you have since learned was the name for their "silver coats".  You had also taken the heavy wooden clubs and trimmed down the large wooden portion for a couple metal rings wrapped around the tip.  This would make them easier to swing, and it is easier to dent Imperial helmets, as well as bruise and break limbs. 
  
  Also, having taken some of the chainmail, you and the others have learned how to make your own in recent months.  Although you were not able to make steel, you used iron to make chain rings and studs woven into your leather padded clothing. 
  
  This had decreased the chances of death for your orcs, forcing the Imperials to get more creative with their killing methods as you have had to.  For a while, you had the upper hand until they developed heavier weapons that could easily pierce mail.
  
  Neither the orc tribes nor the Imperials have made any attempts at establishing peace or any sort of treaty.  It just seems as though these fights have become normal for both sides by now, although the council has sent you several messages asking to make a treaty.  You always send the messenger back, telling them to come do it if they are worried about it.  It isn't that you do not want peace, but the Imperials have become pretty skittish at the sight of orcs, each side shoots first and asks questions later.
  > interruption
  Two loud voices shout just outside of your tent.  Pushing the flaps aside you step out and are not surprised to see that Rolomag and Grolik are arguing again.  While Grolik was a problem for a while, he seemed to warm up after you unknowingly saved his cousin's life a few months ago. 
  
  You watch as the two bicker like some old married couple.
  
  "Grolik, you're a fool if you think we can push into Imperial territory," Rolomag shouts.
  
  "My orcs haven't looted anything in weeks. We're getting restless."
  
  "See, I can agree on invading soldier camps," Rolomag replies, "but actually going into their home villages and towns is asking for more than we can handle."
  
  "It's only a matter of time before they start attacking ours," Grolik says. "Once they realize we've been trading with the surrounding neutral villages, they'll start wiping them out.  And there are innocent people in those villages too."
  
  "Why do you care?  You're worried the Empire is going to steal your victims?"
  
  "Of course I care, they're fellow orcs damn it!  Besides, we only raid fellow bands of 'tribeless orcs', like ourselves."
  
  "So you've never raided a village?"
  
  "Well... .maybe we've stolen crops and cattle here and there.  But that's survival, and we usually don't murder anyone.  Besides, we wouldn't want to bring the wrath of the council on us."
  
  "But you have no problem stirring up the Empire?" Rolomag asks.
  
  "It was the same thing with them.  We stole crops and cattle when we needed.  I thought if anything they would just bolster their defenses, not send a damn legion in here."
  
  Grolik seems to realize he has stepped too close to Rolomag and sighs as he takes a step back.
  
  "Besides," he says, "they're not completely innocent.  They've made dozens of trespasses in years past."
  
  You stand and watch, a scowl on your face.  They both are right to some degree.  It seems that you can either escalate the conflict or remain in this little stalemate. 
  
  You have also been made aware that the goblins living in the Southwest of Orcin, who have always been rivals with the lawless, have become bolder.  After years of constant skirmishing with the lawless orc bands, the goblins have gotten more organized, made better equipment, and even have moved further into Orcin.
  
  This is an issue for everyone as the lawless orcish tribes and the goblins have usually kept too many dwarves, humans, and more adventurous ogres and other invasive creatures from coming too far in from there.  While you are sure there are smaller pockets of goblins and other creatures in the orc lands, these goblins have only increased in number. 
  
  Now, with the lawless focused on the Mannate Empire, and the goblins moving away from the Southwestern border, you've heard of dwarves making a steady advance into the lands.  They mostly just mine for raw materials, the only military presence being small teams to protect the miners.  You are aware that many of the dwarves have a partnership with the Empire, and, at any moment, they could push into the hills and plains and into the heart of Orcin.
  > issues at hand
  Stopping your thoughts, you decide to intervene before Rolomag and Grolik come to blows.
  
  "Enough," you say. "We will figure all of this out."                 
  
  It seems that you have become the unofficial chief of your tribe since Greusim's doom, and even his son Galik hasn't tried to challenge this.  It has its benefits, but also its own headaches.
  
  "Well, Nolazir," Rolomag says, "what will it be?"
  
  "Neither for now," you say.  "We need to amass strength before we do anything else.  We can probably keep them in this stalemate for a while."
  
  "You need to act now," Grolik says. "I think you've become complacent, and that never ends well in these situations."
  
  "Grolik," you say, "while we have many orcs, I don't think we have enough to keep this up for too much longer.  All the humans need to do is galvanize a couple of legions, and they could wipe these mountains with our corpses."
  
  You grunt and spread your arms out for a moment.
  
  "We can't risk escalating right now," you say, "but we also need to keep up the appearance of being a larger force, and we know this won't keep up for long."
  
  You gesture for the two to enter your tent, where you have a large map of Orcin pinned to a wooden table.
  
  "See here?"  You point on the map. "The goblins started out here.  The lawless orcs drove them way out over here."
  
  Grolik grunts in surprise, apparently unaware that they had covered so much ground.
  
  "We need to either wipe them out," you say, "or make a treaty, which I like better."
  
  "What?" Grolik says.  "They're filth, scavengers, and cowards."
  
  "They're organized," you say, "and like you and your lawless tribes, they have kept the dwarves away.  If we can make a treaty between them and the lawless tribes, you all should be able to live close enough, back where they originally were."
  
  You point back to where the goblins originally lived.
  
  "Once we have made peace with them," you say, "your orcs can enjoy whatever spoils they take from the Imperials.  We'll even help you establish farms and trade with the rest of the orcs."
  
  "Why would we want that?" Grolik asks.
  
  "No more hungry winters.  Besides, don't think I don't know what you all do for food when you're desperate."
  
  Grolik's eyes dart to the ground, his face wincing for a brief moment.
  
  "What are you talking about?" he says, not so much asking.
  
  "You know damn well.  It's against Gigalak."
  
  "It was just survival... " Grolik says.
  
  "Yeah, well we're not animals...  or wendigos."
  
  There is a silence as Grolik shifts uncomfortably.  Rolomag just pretends he is not paying attention as he studies the map. 
  
  "Now," you say, "while I deal with the goblins, can you gather some of the lawless tribes?"
  
  Grolik still looks ashamed, but he nods.
  
  "If I promise them some loot, food, and some autonomy...  then yeah, I can."
  
  "Good, now can you and your best go handle that?"
  
  Grolik nods and walks out of the tent.  After a few moments, Rolomag speaks.
  
  "Damn," he says, "didn't know things were that desperate for them.  Now I guess I can see why they loot."
  
  "Yeah, well we will put an end to that soon enough."
  
  You sigh and grab a pack of supplies.
  
  "Rolomag, stay here and watch over the camp," you say.
  
  "Where are you going?" he asks.
  
  "I'm taking a group, we're going to go take care of the goblins, one way or another."
  
  With this you exit the tent, gathering some trusted orcs for the trip.
  > One Month Later...
  The last several weeks have yielded little results.  After reaching the deserted camp of the goblins, you can only assume they had moved deeper into Orcin.  At this point, you're wondering if going total war on them wouldn't be a bad idea.
  
  While orcs do not always completely waste their enemies, conflict can get messy and shit happens.  This might become one of those instances if the goblins keep pissing you off.
  
  As you travel deeper into the hills, the light drizzle overhead turns into a heavy pelting.  At first, you see one, then two dim fires in the distance.  The fields and hills slowly turning to marsh and then swamp as the trees in the outskirts give heed to many mysteries and dangers.
  
  Since the beginning, the orcs have always stayed well enough away from the swamps of their own homeland.  Except for some light traveling on the outskirts, there has always been some common knowledge that something terrifying resides deep within.  It would seem that, perhaps, the goblins welcome the unknown fear that the swamplands bring.
  
  You look to your orcs, signaling them to travel through the swamps and towards what might be the goblin's camp.  At first, you just see some lamps tacked onto the trees, but soon you see the campfires ahead.
  
  After some time, you finally reach the camp.  It consists of wooden huts, bridges, and walkways to evade the murky waters.  Several goblins sound a horn as they see you, all preparing to defend themselves.  You raise your hands, signaling you are not a threat.
  
  The goblins seem to be reluctant until one comes forward.
  
  "Hey, stop!" it cries. "I recognize you...  aren't you the orc chieftain?"
  
  "Yes." you say.  "Where is your chief?"
  
  The goblins all look at each other, seemingly whispering amongst themselves.  You slowly reach down to your side, clutching your axe.  After what seems like a long time, one of the goblins finally steps down and around to the closest walkway.
  
  This one seems to be wearing some sort of fur shawl, the skulls of various animals and other races adorning his belt.  What appears to be a large snake tooth hangs from a necklace on his neck.  His black hair is tied up into a messy knot which seems common for goblin shamans. 
  
  "Chief Gru'zikular is not taking guests right now," the goblin says as he starts to turn around.
  
  "Yeah, well you're encroaching on our territory," you say.  "I'm here to ask you to go back to where you came from."
  
  The goblin turns, his yellow eyes appear to be gleaming.  A sick smile spreads across his face.
  
  You frown, knowing that something isn't right about this particular goblin.  This one seems different from the rest.
  
  "What? Go back to those hellholes you call caves?" he asks.
  
  "I don't care if you go into the caves or not.  The dwarves are creeping into that area, as well as other things.  You used to keep them away, and your presence would probably slowly force them to back off."
  
  The goblin just stares at you.
  
  "If you go back, it can be beneficial for all of us," you continue.  "I can even get the tribeless orcs to leave you all alone.  You can build proper houses such as the ones you have here."
  
  "You see, orc," the goblin says, "these swamps had always been the homes of the goblin people.  We were never supposed to be cave dwellers as everyone seems to think."
  
  The goblin raises his hand as the other goblins start to join in.  They immediately go silent.
  
  "I demand to see your leader," you say.  "I will not listen to this foolishness."
  
  The strange look on the goblin's face intensifies.  His teeth showing as his sick smile widens.
  
  "As you have asked, so shall it be," he says.  "Just East, further in, you can find our leader."
  
  The goblin gestures, showing the way.
  
  "I advise you though, green one, the Master's work is best not interfered with."
  
  You furrow your brow, wondering at the meaning.  You look at the whole group of goblins, who, compared to this one, seem like they are more even-minded. 
  
  Also, you seem pretty sure that this emissary for their chief may have been threatening you all.  But he is just a goblin, you could crush him if needed.
  
  "Tell me, who are you?" you ask.
  
  "I am the Shaman, Rozibu," he says, "speaker for Gru'zikular and humble servant of the Master."
  
  You squint at him.  Perhaps it would be best to return and have the tribeless bands inhabit the lands the goblins used to live in.  It would accomplish a dual purpose; each group gets their own respective territory and stops fighting, and it is not like the goblins are using any land that you are not.  Also, the tribeless orcs could probably keep the dwarves out.
  
  As you stare at the forest beyond, yo