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... itors, you bunch of traitors, roar!” the Half-Ogre fumed, hammering the ground with his once-treasured Nodular Gnarled Club, clang clang.
After collecting most of the taxes, he had regained his former prestige; no longer suppressed by Gaven, the fiery temper typical of Ogres was flowing back into him.
“Open the door, or I’ll smash it to bits!” Roar threatened viciously.
Creak!
Creak!
Before the Half-Ogre could act, the rudimentary gate of the Goblin’s camp ...
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