Not many Worgs had actually died. A great many were badly wounded, however, and fifteen or twenty had even had a leg blown off. Though Worgs had no armor, they were large, thick-skinned beasts. They had been injured while charging wildly through the minefield, and many had been struck by shrapnel, but these Goblin Bombs and Gnome Land Mines still could not kill them. Apart from the especially unlucky ones hit in vital spots like the heart or head, most had merely collapsed, covered in wounds.
Compared with the Vilebranch Trolls of the Hinterlands, these Orcs were far, far tougher. They were also much more civilized than those primitive Troll tribes in the Hinterlands. At least when it came to crafting armor and weapons, they were no worse than humans.
"These mines and bombs are nothing to be afraid of!" the Orc Chieftain shouted to the Orcs who could still move freely in the minefield. "They have one major flaw. When you trigger one, it doesn't explode immediately. There's a brief delay that gives you time to get out of danger. So don't be afraid. Get on your mounts and charge toward me as fast as you can. One at a time, starting with those closest to me. Those farther back, lie down where you are for now so you don't get caught in the blasts."
The Orc Wolf Riders followed his instructions, but not everyone could manage it. Some could still move freely, but either they or their mounts had suffered considerable injuries. While trying to cross the minefield, they either fell off or were blasted to the ground, adding new wounds to old ones and leaving them unable to get back up.
Most of the Orcs did make it out of the minefield safely, though. In fact, their