It was just before dusk as Ghola stood watch along the road and saw three dwarves coming up the road and inspecting the human mill. He saw them enter, then come back out to gather wood for a fire. It was not long before he could smell the sweet scent of burning wood wafting through the air. He crept back to the camp that the boss had set up and as he breached the final bushes into the camp. Three bows met his gaze, each ready to shoot.
“No!!!” he said, pulling his hands up over his face. “It is only Ghola. No shoot.” Ghola’s looked upon the group, There was the boss, three with bows and three more with blackened swords, all much larger than he.
The bowmen still held their focus on him as Ghunzul gro-Dush slowly stood. “What have you got for me?” he gruffly said, still not giving any order for his minions not to fire.
“Dwarven scum, master.” Ghola cowered as the massive orc approached him. “Dwarven scum at the human mill. They are making camp in the mill, master.” He cringed into a ball, trying to make himself as small a target as possible.
“Get up, you sorry git.” Ghunzul’s laughed. The others laughed with him and slowly returned to a more relaxed posture. He reached down to the ground and picked up a small bit of leg of a dear that burned in some places and raw in others and threw it to the scout who devoured it as if it were the finest of meals.
Before Ghola had finished, Ghunzul ordered his troop to get ready. “We’re eatin’ dwarf tonight, boys.” The group got restless and broke into a fervor. “We’re gonna kill em’ and cook em and bake em’ over their own fire.” He gurgled. The others cheered.
Ghola crept off to the side, in the shadows to eat his meal, hoping to go unnoticed. He returned later to sit in front of the fire. He could still smell the embers of the wood in the air. It was sickly sweet to him. When he was young, his mother had always had a fire, he would play with the embers tossing them over one by one watching the sparks flutter in the air. His fascination with them only increased with time. He often would stare blankly into a campfire and get lost as the flames licked the cool air above.
It was too soon when he felt a swift kick against his side. He fell over and doubled in pain.
“It’s time to earn your keep maggot.” Ghunzul sharply said. The others had already gotten ready while the diminutive orc was lost in the flames. With one swift swipe with his foot, the larger orc doused most of the fire with dirt. Ghola watched as he gathered his bow and arrows as the coals barely clung to life.
After several hours of walking, the smell of the wood slowly faded from his mind as he crept along the wooded land leading his boss and troop back to the clearing with the mill. He could smell the campfire of the dwarves again. They could see a slight red glow emanating from the mill.
The group crept towards it as not to raise an alarm. With a few gestures of his hand, Ghunzul motioned for the archers to flank the entrance. Ghunzul and the three warriors positioned themselves in front of the doorway. They left Ghola out of the attack as usual.