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For Grik the brightening passed as the last few. Uneventful. Though this time he was able to have a much more decent rest. The horse foraged for grasses further away and was still able to keep watch. Sleeping on ones feet was a skill that the mounts had, that the orcs did not. A good skill for one keeping watch, and with his mount he was able to sleep and to have another keep watch.
Waking, feeling much more rested the young orc broke camp. The suns of Taleth were once more falling upon the lands, and Grik stuffed the last of his daily ration in his mouth as he mounted his horse. 'Go, gitin close, go...' he yelled. He kicked the horse into action and rode hard. They were on the third brightening of travel, and before sunsrise they should be at thier destination.
Though it was a fast paced ride, the only excitement the tider and mount found was when Grik chased the horse around with an old dagger. Threatening to cut its long tail off.
The stars twinkled as Grik rode, the lights of the random traveler speed past him as he rode. He could smell the cooked meats, and knew he could easily stop and take what he wanted. But he had a job, he was no longer a memebr of a scavaging mob. He was a Lughorn in the Great Horde of Orckon, ready to play his part in the pread of the Orcish Plague across Sharadine.
With the first rays of the suns against his back he saw the first fortifications. He was riding hard and he slowed a bit as the first watchtower came into view. The still darkened sky did not hide from the orc the creatures atop the stone structures, in which he grinned. This would be if first battle front. Here he would call upon his god and have the shara run from his blade...
This would be the start of something the Empire would not soon forget!
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