Malakaus's ambush was doing well. At least 1/10 of the camp was on fire and most of the soldiers were still in disarray. However within that same chaos, Malakaus saw one of his warriors over extend and get overwhelmed. The warlord snarled; it was unfortunate but inevitable. While ambitious all of these warriors, while trained and hardy, were young and untested in a true battle. Most have only hunted and this would be their first chance to kill men. They were the eager ones who wanted to fight for Malakaus without really considering why the more veteran orcs turned him down. Still Malakaus was able to train them well enough to control them. He saw two more riders attempting to break off and avenge Oyarg's death, but Malakaus roared to get their attention and return to formation.

That being said, it wasn't as if Malakaus didn't intend to get revenge. Those soldiers were among the only few sentries who were ready for a fight, and Oyarg's final moments did a good job gathering them close together. Malakaus would not let it go to waste. He and his riders hurled more flasks of oil at the black tent and the soldiers surrounding it, riding away before they could engage the orcs in melee. Shortly after, more flaming arrows rained upon the camp, burning the oil, tents, and soldiers alike. This was as good of a send-off as a warrior could get; not only did he die in battle, but he had the honor of having his remains burned so that his spirit can join the ancestors in the Grand Fire, commonly known as the sun.

Additionally, for the soldiers who thought they could put out the flames with water they would be in for a nasty surprise. Many may consider orcs as crude and unsophisticated, but that would only make them underestimate the orc's cunning brutality. When the soldiers would dump water onto the flames, the oils which fueled that fire simply jumped out and spread onto anyone and anything nearby; the oil was made of an alchemical grease devices by the clan shamans that can burn even on swamp water. Only by smothering the flames with sand or something fireproof could properly kill the flame. And it's highly doubtful that these mercenary soldiers would think to do anything like that as their soldiers fled and their camps burned.

Malakaus lead his riders out of the camp as blew on his war horn, calling form a deafening roar where the first horn came from. It sounded like a thousand orcs were ready to descend upon the camp, but what came instead was a black cloud that rushed towards the encampment. And within that black cloud was glowing red eyes and a twin sharp tusks. It was an illusion of sorts, but an illusion befitting a brutally cunning orc. With the chaos around them Malakaus would make the army believe that his small group of 30 was in fact a larger force of hundreds or more. With the black smoke moving towards the camp, they may even suspect some sort of magic. But in truth, it was only one boar carrying two large bundles which created much black smoke, so thick that not even elven eyes could pierce the darkness. Only the flames that lit the bundles could be seen and they were positioned in such a way that they looked like demonic eyes. But the brutality of this tactic was that while there was not an army of one hundred orcs within this cloud there was a mighty boar beast, the strongest of it's kind. The terror of the Tartarus Mountains, a spawn of the Erymanthian Boar. While not as large or as unstoppable as the legendary creature, it is still far more dangerous than the boars that Malakaus and his rider's were mounted on. It had a hide thick enough to ward off pikes with tusks sharp enough to tear apart walls.

The only problem was that none of Malakaus's warriors, not even himself, could actually control the damn thing. They had merely lured it here with bait before setting it on fire to ravage the camp. Hence why Malakaus and his riders now needed to quickly clear the area before they too become a victim of the Erymanthian spawn. With any luck the boar and the mercenary army will sufficiently weaken each other enough for Malakaus to drive one or the other off. Worse case scenario, the boar proves to be too effective and drives off or even slays the entire army itself without taking too much damage, making that Malakaus and his riders need to figure out how to drive it away before it destroys the town. But Malakaus doesn't really see that as too much of a problem. He had a plan for that too.

As his group gathered back together he shouted orders for them to switch. Those who were archers now joined him with oil flasks, and those who rode alongside him into the camp took out their black bows. Many fear the orcs for their savage strength and their sheer numbers, and they are the classic barbarian hordes who would ravage a countryside with axes and clubs. Malakaus's clan was no different, at first. But he was different from the other orcs. He knew their true strength when they did not. Many would think the longbow is an elven weapon, meant for those with greater accuracy and dexterity. But what they don't realize is that a proper war bow is not a dainty weapon for some graceful waif. It requires great strength to draw back an arrow that can kill a man. Humans need to raise archers within multiple generations, making sure they have a noble's life to keep them strong and able. But an orc doesn't need that sort of pampering. Orcs had raw strength, and that's all they needed. With their raw strength even a novice orc could use a war bow with a draw strength close to 200 pounds. All it took from there was training them to hit their marks, and then to do that while mounted on a moving boar.

As Malakaus and his group changed formations, he raised a banner high into the air for Maren to see. The banner was also topped with an orcish crest, a symbol of his clan. The banner belonged to his father, Sir Aeon Archange. He had been one of the knights loyal to Maren who escorted her to safety when her brother had usurped the throne. An idealistic man to the very end as he was killed when Malakaus's own tribe had ambushed Maren's party on their way to Tamberle. He had thought, because he had a lover in the tribe, that they came to his aid. But instead they too had been paid by that treacherous Mago to hunt down Maren. When Malakaus had learned what had happened to his biological father, he had rebelled and slew the tribe leader. This created further chaos within the tribe as multiple clans fought for power, while Malakaus's own clan, Clan Vorinclex, fled for their own safety.

Malakaus wanted Maren to see this banner along with his clan's crest so that she knew where his loyalties lie. He came here representing his clan, but he was fighting on behalf of his father, who had been loyal to Maren to his last breath. Hopefully this would be enough to convince her and her allies to see that Malakaus isn't a threat to them and help out in some way, either by attacking the mercenaries once they were weakened or at least not shooting Malakaus and his warriors when they approach the town.