While others were out making a slaughter of the village, Shukra was lifting burning and collapsed buildings off of trapped humans, kicking away bloodthirsty minions, and overall making himself look like the least evil creature among the horde that had come down into the village. Once or twice he'd even punched out one of his own orcs, just to push home the point that any who could be saved would be. In all honesty, he almost wished that he could let some go, just to spread the tales of both horror and heroism throughout the southern half of the continent. But, orders were orders, after all, and nothing more could be done of it.
So, once he had collected himself eight men, two women, and one child. However, now, he came across a group of fleeing militiamen. When they saw the group of villagers following him around like lost puppies, they rose their weapons at him. Shukra shook his head, and said, "Don't do this. You'll be throwing your lives away." Of course, calm and reasonable words were no where near enough to calm angry, desperate people. So, when the first man charged and his poorly crafted spear broke against Shukra's armor, the rakshasa's hand darted out and crushed the man's skull with a single punch. The second of the five came at him with a sword, which the tiger blocked with the backside of his gauntlet, the edge of the iron cracking against it. His maw opened, revealing his sharp teeth, and a stream of fire came out with his breath, incinerating the human.
The other three immediately threw down their weapons and turned to flee, but by this point just as many orcs had appeared, brandishing their weapons. They turned back to Shukra, who was standing there with his arms spread and a smile on his face. "Well, now that that is over, how about we just calmly file in with the others so that you get to continue your lives elsewhere. At least I will not force you all into slavery for someone else's amusement." Considering their options, it was not much of a surprise that they filed in with the the rest. Shukra looked around at the devastated village, and finally noticed the giant rune being formed.
He let out a growl, then called out through the village, "All orcs, return to the hills! Our work here is done." With that, he began marching his men out of the ruins, through the fields that were still being stripped by his Team C. He considered letting them finish, but it had been, what, twenty minutes? Between the ten of them, they'd filled up about six of their baskets, so he ordered them to come on out as well. By the time he reached the top of the hill, Team's A and C had arrived with him, and half of Team B had as well, bringing with them five more women and two more children.
All in all, he considered this a success. Seven women, three children, and eleven men. All of which he could use for something or another.
