"Great Chieftain, those centaur bandits stole a lot of our freshly roasted meat and wine!" an Orc warrior roared indignantly. A bloody gash from a flying spear ran across his face.
Thrall could only comfort him. "We need to strengthen our vigilance. When we come under attack, don't act rashly. We must prevent what happened today from happening again." He meant that Orcs were easily baited away, leaving them vulnerable to attacks from behind.
"Yes, Great Chieftain! If those four-legged beasts come again, we'll chop them into mincemeat!" The enraged Orcs all declared that they would teach the centaurs a lesson.
"Good, this meat can be eaten too!" An excited roar suddenly came from the other side of the Orc camp. Some Orcs had gathered around something.
Thrall hurried over and saw several centaur corpses. The Orcs were slicing meat from their horse-like limbs and roasting it, then cheering loudly.
"Ugh..." Thrall nearly vomited the roasted meat he had just eaten. He could not help recalling the time when they had landed in Kalimdor. The food and fresh water aboard the ship had run out, and after killing a centaur upon landing, they had immediately begun gnawing on its raw flesh.
He did not speak out against the Orcs' actions. He was now the Great Chieftain, responsible for the lives of several hundred people here. They had lost a great deal of supplies in the attack. The Crossroads outpost was still several days away, and centaur attacks would continue. Any accident along the way could plunge this force into famine.
From the Great Chieftain's perspective, eating dead centaurs was not something unacceptable.
He silently inspected the camp and saw that the Orcs' morale remained high.
"For the Horde!" The Orcs raised their weapons, their deep roars echoing across the wasteland