"Humans!"
Though the other party wore strange full-body armor, his build was still recognizable. Orgrim sprang up from the ground, snatched up the hammer beside him, and prepared to strike.
But this human was clearly stronger and faster than Lothar, whom he had once fought. The human merely reached out and pinched his shoulder, and Orgrim immediately lost all strength, collapsing limply to one side.
Drek'Thar tried to cast a spell, but the human who had just been by the entrance seemed to vanish like a ghost and appear behind him. He covered the shaman's mouth with one hand and held a dagger to his wrinkled neck with the other.
"Don't move. I'm here to negotiate with you, but if you fail to appreciate my goodwill, I can wipe out your entire race."
"Come on! Do it! Lok'tar ogar!" Half of Orgrim's body was numb. He struggled and writhed on the ground, shouting at the top of his lungs.
Yet the human let out a snickering laugh, a sound like that of a demon.
"Heh heh, Orgrim, so brave and resourceful." The human somehow produced a strange roll of something, tore off a strip, and stuck it over the Prophet's mouth. "You're shouting like this because you want your men outside, or the Frostwolves, to hear the commotion and come rescue you. But you don't think I failed to anticipate that, do you?"
"What did you do to them?!"
The Chieftain's eyes reddened. Spittle sprayed from his huge mouth, glittering in the firelight like a misting humidifier.
"Just over five hundred people, plus more than four hundred wolves. I invited them all to take a nap. Their lives aren't in danger." The human clapped his hands, then sat beside the fire and poked at the logs with a stick. "But