They laughted at him. They<em>LAUGHED</em>at him. Anger, and humiliation seethed, and swirled with in his soul as he clutched his rib cage from where that strange half-elf struck him in his distended gut. He growled as he made his way from the Town where he was suppose to talk with the Guild leaders and see what fees were to be paid to do business within the town. So far, the meetingS were going good, and he was happy to be able to report his success to the Caravan boss. However, he was bumped into by that rude Half-Elf bitch. Damn Bitch didn't have the manners to apologizes. He snarled and growled as the precieved offenses stacked themselves, but he couldn't acknowledge the slights that he perpetrated that led to his Humiliation.<br/><br/>Thor'Cha was the Caravan's Messenger to the Guilds of the town. To talk, and find out what was needed to be able to bring the caravan into the town, and sell the wears. He was part of a race of Orcs that try to lead peaceful lives, but they still had the more volatile temperaments of their more warlike cousins. They were quickly to anger, or offense at the slightest provocation.<br/><br/>He would reach the caravan camp just after dark. The others were eager to find out if the meetings were successful. Dor'lan was waiting for him. He was tall, 8+ feet, and muscular. He had sharp eyes. "Thor'Cha, what took you so long?" He demanded to know. "I was assaulted by these strangely clad Half-elves!" Thor'Cha stated. "Assaulted!? Why!? HOW!?" The Large Orc demanded to know. "I was living the Guild Hall when one of those Half-elves bumped into me, A female. I asked politely for an apology, but she ignored me. When I demanded one, another, a male came in, and beat me with his strange looking club. the village laughed at my pain." He said. Conveniently leaving out that he was being rude, and crass to the Female.<br/><br/>Dor'lan let out a snarl. "How dare they!" He bellowed. "You two, search the town, and see if they're still around. If so waht Inn they're in. If they're as truly garbed in strange clothes, Then they should be easy to find." Dor'Lan stated. Two of the smaller orcs nodded before disappearing into the night. However, something about "Strange Garb" was sticking in Dor'lan's mind. His rubbed his strong chin. Recently, there has been rumors circulating the caravans of elf looking people with strange garb, and horseless carriages. The Rumors state that any force that goes against them is doomed to die horribly. He dismissed that quickly. There was not a race like that in all of this world.<br/><br/>It would be an hour before the two would return. "They're not in the town, but it would appear they're camped out on a hill on the far side of the town. There isn't many of them about ten, or so." The Scouts reported. "Good, we'll stain the grass red with their blood for the offense they done us!" Dor'Lan decreed. From all along the caraven 50 orcs drew long crude swords. "We'll attack them at Dawn. We don't want to be Dishonorable." Dor'Lan stated as he started to move the group around the town to where the others were camped.