Drikdarok turned to his translator, a goblin who possessed two talents, one for learning languages and the other was that he almost always knew what the Darok was about to ask of him. The Darok had not come alone of course, he had a group of 5 orks, the goblin translator and the human servant who had delivered the news to him 5 days earlier. He had traveled by long-strider of course, the 6 legged giant insects were one of the fastest methods of travel in Ocrad and their long legs allowed them to traverse almost any terrain with ease. He would never use one in a war however, their legs were thin and easily maimed, so thin that armor would do nothing to protect it. The Darok was wearing the steel armor that Ocrad was so well known for. Some say it could withstand any blade and others said it weighed as much as the mountains it was forged in. Both were more or less, true. It covered his chest, legs and head, with his helmet being a squarish shape with two prongs of metal sticking out of the top, like horns. Two curves of metal traced his eyes like glasses, but aside from that his face was left mostly unprotected. Drikdarok preferred to have his arms left free, but wore gloves to give him extra grip. With his gloved hand, the Darok slapped the goblin, who was deep in thought and not realizing that the Darok needed him to translate. 'Crown-Prince-Majestytakokh, palace kadsukh' the goblin said to the Darok. 'Orun, palace unhsabagh' the Daroks deep voice said to the goblin. To the guards the goblin said 'he says he will go, lead on'.