Draxis reined in his mount, staring down at the brutish looking orc, his misty blue eyes staring down at Drosta from behind the grim visage of his helm. “Spit it out Orc scum, I do not have time to wait.” He spoke harshly, wondering what Razgar’s Guard Captains mutt had to say. “I do not have the patience for your brutish tongue, so be out with your message. Our Death March has started and we are not interested in halting just to heed the orders of a lowborn greenskin runt.” He was rude, yes, but he hated the orcs almost as much as the humans… if he weren’t bound to his word to slay the human plague, he would have just as quickly turned on Razgar, but the Hordes were a means to an end according to Baphomet. Draxis had no plans to listen to whatever Razgar had to say, it was no concern to him. The Legion of Felwind would not be grinded to a halt just because some Orc Warlord decided to tell him to not press his attack. “Well, come on… You don’t have a lifetime to tell me this message.”