There was much consternation among the orcs...the rank of warriors fell back, and even the leader's warg edged back a step.  A hubbub of conversation ensued.  Marina was guessing the rank-and-file orc warriors were trying to convince their leader to go elsewhere.<br/><br/>Then an orc stepped forward.  He was old, walking with a slight limp.  He wore a patch over one eye, and his clothes were covered in trinkets and he wore a necklace with the skulls of small mammals on them.  He carried a spear.  Turning the point down and running it into the ground, he came forward.  Locking Marina in the gaze of his one exposed eye, standing five feet from her, he said, "Strike me down, oh Cloaked One.  Feast upon my soul, if you dare."  He gave a cackling laugh.