The roar of laughter woke Glinda and her eyes blinked away the remnants of sleep as she tried to get her bearings. As it was the tent of a Chieftain, Thralls where she slept was by far the largest in the camp and the three Orks were still a good twenty feet away even though they were fully inside. They were clearly drunk and she didn’t think they had even seen her, or Dinia who had still slept besides her, as they laughed and joked at an unnecessary volume, as Orks frequently do. As they stumbled around, starting to rummage through Thrall’s possessions which lined the edge of the tent Dinia too awoke and sat up, trying to figure out what was going on.
“Hey! HEY!” She called out to them, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “I can see you fools are drink but are you retarded??” All three turned, silent for the first time since their entry as they processed this new component to the situation. They were all dressed casually for Orks, pants cutoff by the knees and a fur draped over their shoulders which was affixed by a chain across the chest. From that Dinia could tell they were simple foot soldiers, no one of importance. This could have already been assumed by the fact that they were in town and not invited on the hunting trip which Thrall and his Chiefs had been on for the last week but their garb itself was a dead giveaway. Their lack of class supported this assumption.