"You'll have your safe passage if you help butcher the thing attacking my village!" the shaman answered. Then he pushed past D'Artagne and stormed down the path from his hut. Several of his guards stomped forward to push D'Artagne along as they followed him out.

With the dead already in dozens and the village starting to catch fire the mob of orcs disintegrated into a wild stampede as they tried to flee. This was short lived; after only a minute something caused them to near instantly find their bravery again. It would seem that the arrival of their leader had that effect; they feared him more than they did Torrens. They moved back a ways closer to where the fire demon was, but this time they made no effort to attack Torrens. A raucous cry began to take hold amongst the throngs of orcs. "Gormlag! Gormlag!" they roared in unison, cheering at the arrival of their champion, the shaman.

Gormlag suddenly burst out from the crowd and charged towards Torrens with an unnatural speed for a brute of his size, searing claws outstretched. Unlike the other orcs, he didn't show the slightest hint of trepidation upon seeing the fire demon, nor the charred remains of all the fallen. No, it only drove him into more of a rage.

Meanwhile, the other guards were quick on Gormlag's heels, and one of them threw D'Artagne out into the field. 

"Go kill da fire devil!" one ordered.

"Help da big mighty shaman!" said another, which quickly started a small argument over whether the shaman was mighty enough to handle his own fights.

"Kill it right now or we eat you, little rabbit thing!" roared one last orc, who unlike the others seemed willing to force D'Artagne to do it. Raising his spear, he moved to prod the rabbitman forward (or perhaps outright impale him) if he didn't go on his own volition.