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[Tir'Og]

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The Greenskin felt his pulse quicken as he gazed out to the sun lit land before him. Many times he had seen this shire and each time it had remained defiantly beyone his clawed hold.A worthless land, set in mire and pestilance, Bloodgod be damened he wanted it to suffer... This land was nothing remarcable to look upon, not but a posioned hideland of swamp and inbred villagers. It's green and blighted lanscape mocked in it's weakness to him.
A vein throbbed above his brow.

Unlike many other towns to be attacked by the might of the Stormreavers this one had to take the more difficult path.
Dammit, it simply refused to do the normal thing and die!
With a snear on his face and a dull ache in his breast the orange kilted Orc the Nel Garok formed the name of this stubborn township on his green lips.
"Yew"..

A sudden ripple of fear surged throguh the members of the warband he was leading. All those near him knew the explosivness of a mad Orcs temper and none were strong enough to mute it for their fellows in the ranks. The slaves, hidiouasly deformed by their masters, mewed and slobbered thier fear and pulled at the warg riders chains. They knew all to well the pain they faced from an Orcs displeasure.

Hangling from the shaking hand of a runt was the map of Yewtown and its abby, seemingly the only structure of this backwater the humans planned on defending. All the better for him it seemed,. Playing before his half closed eyes were sceens of slaughter, blood spalshing the air and the joy of violance surging though the attackers veins. Half eclipsed by the red haze, restesd his plans for this town when it was eventually conqoured, pain and anguish set to the sound of red hot iron buring flesh and the devils own music of repenting prisoners screaming Orcish oaths to an uncarring God.
Tir'Og grinned at that thought.
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For the last time Tir'Og! "Dat toopid humie dezerbed id" is NOT grounds for justafiable homacide.
-Judge, Yew Court