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Orc Tale
“Zug zug,” the peon said, and he began to hoist the catapult and put it into place. Doomhammer smiled and returned to his inspection.
“Lazy pushdug,” Narg Snarl said, coming to the general’s side. “Why do we tolerate the little chillbloods?”
“Captain Snarl, would you like to set up our catapults without them?” Snarl chuckled, but Doomhammer backhanded the officer with such force that he fell to the ground, stunned.
“Captain Snarl, I order you to perform the tasks of a peon for one day, starting this very minute!” Doomhammer shouted.
“But Doomhammer, if the Alliance attacks….”
Doomhammer raised his hammer. “Yes, my lord, at once!” Captain Snarl slunk away and reported to the peon master, informing him of Doomhammer’s command. Suddenly every peon within earshot broke into fits of hysterical laughter. Snarl was furious. “I am still a captain, and when I am restored to rank there will be bloody retribution!”
The peon master caught Snarl with a quick lash to his unprotected neck that made him yelp. “Peons must learn their place!” He ordered the peons to grab him, forcibly remove the captain’s armor and hold him to the ground; he allowed each peon Snarl had threatened a chance to kick him in the ribs.
Six hours later, Doomhammer came upon his captain, sweating and shaking in the mire, propped up with his back against a tree.
“The pits. They made me clean the pits,” Snarl muttered in a mad voice.
Doomhammer turned to the peon master. “Has peon Snarl performed his duties to your satisfaction?”
“No general! He could not assemble a catapult, he broke the porter line’s rhythm when he stumbled carrying shot, and he was slow with his pickaxe at the quarry and only cleaned two of the pits before he refused to do any more work. And he still refuses to answer my orders with the words ‘zug zug’!”
“Lazy pushdug,” Doomhammer spat. “Flay him to your satisfaction!”
It was the last time any of Doomhammer’s captains ever openly insulted his peons