Drikdarok swung, hard, possibly a bit to hard as another training dummy split in half. 'Drusakhan garka zabe (make the dummies stronger)' he growled to a nearby ork servant, whom had been waiting for such and order and sprang into action immediately, lest the Daroks wrath be directed towards him. Drikdarok left the training area, barely tired as the number of dummies, 5, was the same number of swings he took before leaving their broken bodies behind him.
He saw several ork servants running around performing chores and tasks, as well as some humans and a few goblins. His metal boots clattered on the stone of the hallway, as he plodded down to his room. He came out of the hallway and into the great hole, or hall, both suited the room, it being 10 meters high and shaped in a crude rectangular prism shape. Stone working, although useful to the Orks and Trolls to bore out great fortresses in the mountains, was, like many other things just that, useful. No point cutting into straight edges unless you need more room and definitely no point decorating the walls and pillars with carvings.
He walked directly across the room, as his was across from the training room, merely for ease of access. Again he plodded down a hallway although this one was shorter than the last, until he reached his room. It was, like all the others, crudely excavated. Although, as a troll would, he preferred to live in a more circular room, more cave-like. Poles were jammed into the sides of the room, with torch scones mounted there, the torches lit. As soon as he entered his room he growled. The sickly sweet scent of human entered his nose and he didn't like it. He looked inside, to see one of the human servants, perhaps the bringer of bad news as the orks usually sent humans to break it to Drikdarok, instead of one of their own. The servant was standing in front of his desk and evidently had been a while, as the Darok saw him stand up straight from a slouching position as he entered. 'Bak? (what?)' he said in his deep gruff voice. 'Riakrut zabekh, Xi'an (Xi'an built a dam)' the servant said, shaking slightly in the Daroks hulking presence. 'Zabean unhtakokh! (I said not to!)' yelled the Darok and walked up to the servant. 'Xi'an takogh, Xi'an unhzerogh, unhtako (tell Xi'an, I will go to Xi'an, to talk)' Drikdarok said and stepped back, the servant scurrying away from him to deliver the news 'Ziak (weak)' he breathed to himself as the scrawny servant left. He then sat behind his desk, in which a map of the world lay and stabbed a red, needle shaped piece of metal into the spot where the yellow river was to tell himself it was a location of interest. He sat back in his chair, which was a bit of rock that jutted out to form a platform and sighed, thinking of the annoying journey ahead.

(OOC expect him to arrive to wherever Ling was in about 5 game days, assuming the journey is quite long)