"The greygirlbeast would make a nice, big nanga from you, friend!"
"The what-beast?" was his angry response.
"It is not really your concern. Khalkhathal tribe is mine, now. Do you wish to fight me as befits an Orc?" He did. He took up a short sword and flail and I removed my own armour and clothes, to fully demonstrate my capabilities to the sleepy and astonished Orc ranks gathering to watch. I would match his two weapons with a single spear.
Truly, his advantage was short lived, as simple manoeuvring on my part tangled his flail round my spear tip and I tore the weapon from his weak, fleshy grip. The action swung my spear to the right and caused him to stumble forward. He was canny enough to turn this momentum towards me, and his bulky shoulder shoved me to the ground. The coarse ground tore at my back, but my mind wandered not from looming Hiuiluth. He took barely a step towards me before my spear found his throat, long before his short blade could hope to strike.
I'd feared that the Khalkhathal might wish to avenge their former chieftain, but I'm pleased to record they're wiser Orcs; they merely laughed at their late leader's fate, and there was no further challenge to my authority. So, now as dawn approaches, I've travelled the night westward with a company of thirty Orcs, ten Uruk-Hai, and two trolls. I shall take this host to Carach Angren, where Kamul now abides. And if I should meet any impertinent shield maidens on the way, well . . .