Valore had blatantly rejected the Ogre King's invitation into her ranks.
Brunt could not take it. What Valore had done was a spit to her face, she saw it as a sign of contempt coming from the elf.
The manner in which Valore had declined the invitation made the whole scenario much more insulting.
Many had died by her hands and in atrocious, despicable ways because of the same kind of ridicule that she received from the elven warrior.
She was Brunt, the Ogre King.
The greatest of the goblin folk of Vandar.
The bane of towns and villages.
A green disaster that destroyed anything that blocked her path.
Brunt gnashed her fangs.
How dare a mere elf spit in her face?
Her eyes were filled with contempt as she looked at Valore.
She saw the elves as species that were too inferior to stand before her grand majesty.
