Pizurk sat atop his worg alongside the rest of the so called 'allies' that had managed to gather together in the short about of time that they had all been given to gather their forces for the defense. Beside him rode two other Uruk, both riding on their own personal worgs as the small group remained relatively silent during the process of parley between the two armies that had gathered together for battle. 

Truth be told, the Uruk's had gone into the parley with no illusions about how it was going to end; They had given their oaths to hold the Maw or die trying and that was what they were going to do no matter what any of the filthy tarks had to say to each other. The fact that the eastern tarks looked like half bred Zanbaurs didn't improve their standing in the slightest, but despite everything the uruks stay quiet and let the stupid tarks prattle on pointlessly before arriving at the foregone conclusion that there was going to be a battle here today. Honor dictated that the act of parley be upheld and that assassinating an enemy leader when they have come to parley was held in a poor light... even if they were a half bred zanbaur. 

However, Pizurk's eyebrow raised as he noticed one of the tark lieutenants stayed behind his leaders pack as the parley came to an end and the rest of the tarks walked away. The tark (Rexus as he would find out soon enough) then had the balls to insult all of them to their faces, but even went so far as to single out himself and his brothers as he reveled the disgust that burned at his core before he turned his back on them to try and ride back to safety. 

The keyword being [i]try[/i]. 

While the uruks had honored the terms of the rite of parley to satisfy their own personal honors in their own eyes (as well as that of their people), Rexus had made a critical error of judgement. By staying behind to insult them, Rexus had effectively revoked the protections that his leaders parley had offered him before; By all rights, he was now just another enemy combatant that had stupidly wandered onto the battlefield alone and into range before turning his back to try and flee. 

Pizurk grinned wickedly as he raised his crossbow, his two bodyguards doing the same as they took aim at Rexus's back and sort to answer an age old question: What could move faster, three crossbow bolts or a horse? 

Shots lined up, aimed and fired, the Uruk delegation turned their worgs and darted back towards their camp. It was time to prepare for the slaughter to come.


......................................................................

"[color=ed1c24]If none of you tarks desire command, then let an uruk show you how this battle is going to be won.[/color]" Pizurk answered the question that Torr had asked, throwing his name into contention for command.