[center][h3][color=ed1c24]The Bonesnapper Tribe[/color][/h3][/center]
[hr]

The Orcs had followed the stench of elf along the river for well over an hour, but eventually the smell faded and the warband was left without a direction. Standing in an open clearing not far from the eastern bank of the river, Nagrub roared his boyz to attention.

"Boyz! We'z makin' camp. If those elf boyz are usin' the river then dat means they ain't far. But I'm not's walkin' into a trap, and where there'z one elf boy there's a whole lot of the gits. I want some boyz out scoutin' ahead, smell for that magickz blood. The rest of you gits get to work settin' up camp. We start huntin' at dawn."

To make his point clear, the warlord gave a mighty stomp and slammed his choppa into the earth. With a loud thud the crude iron blade cut the ground below it and the boyz surrounding the Warlord scrambled back in anticipation of Nagrub's wrath. Shortly afterward, the boyz went right to work establishing a base camp and 'organizing' scouting parties into the woodlands around them. However, how long they could search was a mystery, as the sun was already beginning to set into the west... One thing was for certain though, come sunrise, Nagrub would begin the orcish tradition of a war hunt, and no man, beast, or elf would be safe from the bloody thirsty boyz.

[hr]

[b]G) Prospect the Land[/b]

At first Wurtag had simply written, whatever that word meant, off his fellow orc's statements of lights in the east. Orcs were dumb, especially those who did not see or hear the will of the orcish gods of war. However, in the early evening one night Wurtag saw them for himself... Far off in the distance, just within the sight of his beady red eyes... Light... Fire. Could it be fellow orcs? Or perhaps some of those short gits with the big beards, or maybe the tasty humies that used to run their caravans in the far south. Regardless, one thing was certain, there was life.

This realization brought more questions than answers for the Greenseer, and he began to think. If there was resources and a food source upon those great peaks... What of the very hill the boyz sat on? Stepping from his tent and ordering his apprentices to bang upon the drum of the rock, Wurtag demanded the attention of Iron Rock's folk. Raising his 'magick stik' he spoke to his fellow greenskins of an idea placed in his mind by none other than Grobsnar, the God of 'Finkin an' Tinkerin', and the orcish god told him of shiny things right below their very feet. These shiny things could be used to forge new buildings, better choppas, and make very shiny spikes. Of course, in the back of his rather small orcish brain the Shaman couldn't help but envision himself embroiled in robes and plate of 'shiny' that would demand the respect and attention of his greenskin tribesmen...

[hider=Summary]
- Nagrub instructs his boys to prepare a camp in a clearing and begin scouting parties, at sunrise a hunt would begin with Nagrub leading to find the 'elf boyz'. 

- Wurtag the Greenseer 'has a vision' of shiny things under the grounds of Iron Rock and calls upon his tribesmen to begin digging and scouring their surroundings in the name of the tribe and the orc god Grobsnar.[/hider]