[center][h3][color=ed1c24]The Bonesnapper Tribe[/color][/h3][/center]
[hr]

Nagrub's warband began their wild hunt in the early hours of the morning. Throughout the night scouting parties reported in roars and guttural screams of 'elf boyz' in the trees and shadows, but all investigations led the orcs nowhere. At last, a believable sighting occurred. With Nagrub's own beady red eyes he watched an elven scout, his short blue cape and blonde hair flowing as he ran across a small crossing in the river. With a roar, Nagrub raised his great choppa and called on his boyz to chase after the elf. With chants of "'ere we go" and animalistic roars the greentide of forty or more orcs began making the crossing over the river. Of course, there was no organization in an orcish crossing, and more than one boy would fall over his comrades and be cast into the cold water.   

It was only when the first orc had made it across did Nagrub realize what was happening... As the first boy made it to shore and began marching up the embankment, a long white wooden arrow pierced his makeshift armor, and then another through his left eye.

[i]This was a trap.[/i]

Elves appeared all along their side of the river, arrows ready, and began firing into the massed orcs. With increased fervour and rage, the orcs sped up their crossing in a rush to kill their ambushers. Stepping over wet, cold, greenskin bodies more and more orcs charged up the embankment, Nagrub included. Swinging his great weapon with unseen rage the Orc Warlord cared not if he struck elf or orc, there would be blood for attempting such unorcy tactics against a warlord as great as he. Thus, the clash began. 

Choppas met makeshift spears and elven shortblades, and it was evident that in close combat the victor would inevitably be the orcs. The wooden spears of the elves snapped on impact with orcish axes; however, the elves had the advantage of continued arrow fire from more ambushers in the distance. The elves immediately began to focus their fire onto the biggest and most armored of the orcs, Nagrub himself, though many of their bolts would not pierce his iron armor. In one hand, his great choppa, in the other Nagrub grabbed hold of the nearest non-green body he could find. The elf was pathetic, his eyes wide with fear and his teeth grit in pain as Nagrub effortlessly snapped the helpless boy's neck between his brutish hands. He tossed the limp body towards his former comrades and continued the charge, however, with the death of this elf it seemed many of his compatriots had suddenly began to lose faith. It was in that moment that Nagrub realized, he had just killed the leader of this ambush. Was it the leader of this entire little tribe? He was not sure, but was quickly as the battle had begun it was over. Along the river bank twenty or more orcs lay dead, their bodies bleeding and arrows protruding from all sides, and ten or so elves, including the commander of this little attack. Perhaps not a victory in numbers, this was a victory none the less. Raising his great choppa Nagrub roared, and his remaining boyz roared with him. The bodies of the dead elves, and some orcs, were taken for eating on the long road back to Iron Rock. Nagrub was not sure if the elf he had slain was their leader, or if there were more where they had come from. All the Warlord knew was he went west for a fight, and a fight he had. He could safely return to his camp and show his boyz his might as he added new skulls to his banners and more snapped bones to his talismans. The point he wished to make to the elves and his boyz had now been made.

"Orcz are da biggest an' da strongest."

[hider=Results]
Orcs: Twenty dead
Elves: Thirteen dead

[b]Pyrrhic Orc Victory[/b][/hider]

[hr]

[b]C) Improve infrastructure[/b]

Back at Iron Rock things remained relatively quiet. The Greenseer continued his ever holy works in the name of the orcish pantheon and the remaining boyz kept to work prospecting the lands. However, a new 'vision' came to Wurtag, and in the early hours his lesser shamans beat the drums and the camp encircled the Greenseer's great hut. Waving his 'magickz stik' Wurtag began proselytizing to his fellow greenskins of his vision. While they worked to prospect the land and breed the livestock, the gods were unhappy with the lack of effort their followers had put into their camp itself. Certainly there were enough spiky bones and protruding metal, but there lacked 'struktur' as Wurtag called it. What that word meant, not even Wurtag really knew, but after banging some heads and threatening to 'blast ya boyz wit me spellz' the orcs went right to work with... Whatever it exactly was Wurtag had demanded of them. 

[hider=Summary]

Nagrub and his warboyz suffer greater losses but ultimately defeat a small ambushing group of elves, thus proving their 'superiority' and begin making their way home to tell of their victory.

Wurtag demands the orcs do... Something. Though surely with the visions from the green gods they will prevail at whatever it is 'struktur' means![/hider]