At the command to march, captains everywhere turned to gather soldiers under their banners. Of course, they all wanted the strong, obedient ones. But Gorman wanted the rejects. There was greater glory in weakness, he believed, and the weaker they were when they started, the more glorious would be their end. The first one was the hobgoblin. Nobody paid attention to the spindly goblins, even the smarter kind.

[@Verdaux]
"You. You're with me."

[@Darkwatck01]
Not far off, a kobold came out of a tent dripping blood from its mouth. Gorman swallowed his disgust and looked it over. The kobold was female, and a reject, given that everyone else gave her wide berth.
"You're on my team now. Come."

[@Lord Zee]
He nearly bumped into a goblin weaving through the crowd. Gorman almost passed him by were it not for his unique mage raiment. He reached out and took the goblin by the shoulder.
"My warband. Come."

[@rush99999]
One particularly tall orc caught his eye. [i]Someone needs to be my muscle, I suppose. And who else would want a tall guy on their team? He looks imposing enough to threaten a leader.[/i]
"Join my warband. This way."

[@Claw2k11]
It was then that Erjak spotted an old, burly orc leading four other troops behind him. The orc was huge, ripped as an orc can get, and bore the scars of many battles. It had to be Gorman.

[@NecroKnight]
[@Delta44]