Hugh glared at Artos, "You haven't seen what I've seen then, young one. If this orc is as good as you say he is and I think he is, he will know of what I speak when I say his kind are a selfish, brutal, and cruel race. The gods they pray to are the gods of fire, war, and blood. Concepts such as honor and loyalty are foreign to them. The only orcs I know of who stray from the flock are the ones that are raised by another race or the ones that are killed because of their weakness." He paused, the anger starting to build up a little, "So forgive me if I'm not too keen on being around them."

His frustration was starting to show on his face. "But, you," He said looking to the orc, "You're somehow different. I've never heard orcs speak of vengeance on the behalf of someone else who didn't hold power over them. Your father is dead, and you show loyalty to him. This is a new sight to me, and perhaps your kind are changing." He stood for a moment reflecting on all the things he'd seen. Paladins were like a force of heroes for the weak, who never asked for anything in return. He had seen his share of decimated villages and he had killed his share of orc kind. The cruelties he had seen were numerous. He had seen cruelty from all races, however. Humans were the ones, as far as he knew, who purged his order. Humans were the ones who decimated his adoptive tribe. Orcs, demons, goblins, any kind of people that would pick on the weak, Hugh had fought, but humans were the ones who brought the downfall of the order.

With Bjoric the Dwarf's admittance of liking the orc, Hugh relented. "I welcome you to the group, then."