Naked chained girls danced for Gorgamesh's amusement as he sat on his "throne". A wooden chair; imposing in size, spiked and gnarled crafted from the gates of the first town his orcs had razed, it was a constant reminder of the reason he was leader. Not only of his martial prowess, but of the riches he led the tribe to. And these girls who danced we're indeed riches. Something reserved to be used by the chief and his tribal leaders. In elvish society they would be held as beauties even amongst the already ethereal elves. Nothing pleased Gorgamesh more than seeing these once proud creatures humiliate and subjugate themselves freely, and enjoyed their chained dancing immensely.<br/><br/>He heard Doshvin's whining as she collapsed near the throne, kept on long chains tied to the chair, she tended to stay near her master whenever free to do so. He watched one of his men kick her and he growled angrily, it was obvious she was sick. He would have the tribes shaman see to her. He did not wish to see his favoured pet die, she was a memento of his first triumph. He stroked her head softly in a moment of rare affection while he watched the girls. He smiled when the body of the broken elven priestess. He roared in approval, missing his slave pathetic cry out to the girl.<br/><br/>He approached the battered, bruised and broken slave who lay prostrate on the floor in front of him. As he approached he crouched down, grabbing her cheeks between his thumb and forefinger, forcing her to look up at him. "Learn your place whore... Tell the tribe... Do you love your chieftain?"