Kurto Shatterskull gripped his battleaxe, thin streams of blood sliding down his body.
With every step he took forward, a bloody footprint appeared beneath his feet.
Corpses lay both before and behind him.
There were orcs under his command, even more orcs from the Scorched-Earth Warcry Tribe, and even chieftains of certain smaller orc clans.
Kurto Shatterskull held an orc's braid in his hand, with a savage head dangling beneath it.
This was the chieftain of the Scorched-Earth Warcry Tribe. Even he had died beneath Kurto Shatterskull's battleaxe.
At the heart of the Scorched-Earth Warcry Tribe's power, Kurto Shatterskull moved forward, leaving one bloody footprint after another.
He stepped across the ground, over his enemies' corpses, and finally sat upon a throne steeped in the savage air of the wasteland.
This had once been the seat of the Scorched-Earth Warcry Tribe's chieftain.
Unfortunately, the Scorched-Earth Warcry Tribe's last stronghold had now been breached by the Howling Children of the Wasteland.
Kurto Shatterskull raised the head in his hand before him and stared into his enemy's unclosed eyes.
"You lost!"
The Scorched-Earth Warcry Tribe had ultimately failed to withstand the Howling Children of the Wasteland's assault.
Their core tribe had been breached, and the remaining tribes had been looted mercilessly as well.
The Howling Children of the Wasteland had obtained supplies from these smaller orc clans, while also dragging in a heap of cannon fodder.
Using the lives of that cannon fodder, they had finally broken through the defenses.
Many orcs had died in the process.
But in the end, the Howling Children of the Wasteland had still won.
At the same time, they had suffered tremendous losses. A rushed offensive meant launching an even fiercer attack.
When the enemy's resolve to defend their city was firm, that naturally required