The tension in the cavern was incredibly sharp and one move, all of them felt they would be pushed and crushed.
The flickering light of the glowing crystals reflected off the stone walls, casting long shadows over the assembled Orcs.
Volk stood at the forefront, his broad shoulders squared, eyes glinting with determination as he faced the other clans.
The silence after his declaration lingered in the air like a storm waiting to break.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then, like a dam breaking, the other Orc Clans erupted into anger and disbelief.
"Work under the Dreadmaw Clan?" A gruff voice from the Bloodfang Clan snarled.
"The weakest clan among us?"
The Orc who spoke stepped forward, his broad chest heaving, fists clenched in fury. His tusks gleamed as he bared his teeth, clearly enraged at the notion.
