Being of use to the tribe.

[Volkan]

((After the "incident" with Morgeth Volkan has demanded/requested that he be put to use and the Chieftain has complied ordering Volkan however to ask the Varog'Gar for a task. Morgeth has send him out to find and torture information out of a fel orc straggler to find the whereabouts of the remaining commander, knowing that most orcs of the tribe eschewed torture as dishonourable and would never do it.))

Volkan was grumbling at the tavern, sitting by himself. He had just finished eating quite a healthy portion of grilled ox meat, but still had trouble figuring out how to phrase his report. He didn't want to give that bitch the satisfaction of her knowing she could lord over him, but at the same time he didn't want to risk his new found home in the tribe. 'Bah' he muttered to himself, 'females are only trouble, should never give them any position of power.' He regretted his words fast, as he thought of the young female orc, Scharda, whom he considered a daughter he never had. 'back to the report, Volk' he grumbled again. A smile crept upon his lips as he realised he could just address the report directly to the chieftain, but still send it to Morgeth. The message would be clear, if she was smart enough to pick up on the subtlety, which he was sure she was. To address the chieftain instead of her meant that her showed his loyalty to the chieftain, but his contempt to the Varog'Gor by completely ignoring her even though she was the one that had tasked him. His thoughts went back to the fight and he was itching to ram his fist in her face once more, he had not thought she knew how to fight in melee combat, thinking she was just another weak user of sorcery. He wouldn't make that mistake again, thinking about her arrogant smirk got his blood running wild inside him and he felt the lust to kill rise rapidly. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he calmed himself down. Now was not the time to lost his temper, he would bide his time, waiting for the bitch to give birth first before enraging her to fight him again.

'Chieftain', he began, 'It is with great satisfaction to report that I made the red pig squeal. Hehe it's funny how a heated dagger can motivate even the most stubborn oafs.' He paused to think whether he should include how he had tortured the fel orc. On one hand it might not be needed, on the other hand it might come in handy for future problems that needed a more delicate approach to be solved. He decided to include the technique on a separate report. 'In case you're interested.' He continued 'I've included my approach to making him sing in another report, that you will find attached.'
He gestured for the inn keeper to bring him some more food and ale, before continuing. 'the sorry bastard you're after, seems to be hiding between Terrokar Forest and Shadowmoon Valley. There is a secret path, hidden by some bushes about 40 steps south, south west of a great cinched tree.
According to the fel orc, that path should lead straight to his camp. Whether or not he's guarded he did not now, but it's safe to assume that if he went in to hiding that he'll probably have a retinue of guards around him.'

Satisfied with his report, he rewarded himself with some more ale and took a big bite out the freshly served juicy grilled ox meat. After indulging himself he began with the second report, writing in detail on how he had captured the straggler at dawn and knocked him out. How he had carried him to a nice quiet spot, woken him up and began the slow torture. As he wrote he thought about all those orcs with the foolish notion, that torture was wrong and without honour. 'Idiotic fools' he thought to himself 'Didn't Orgrim Doomhammer the greatest of all the Warchiefs use torture? Who are they to decide what's right and what's wrong. Only the survival of the Horde matters, everything else is secondary.' He grunted and scratched his beard and continued with the details in his report. He had removed several limbs of the straggler including his teeth, till he finally understood that if he didn't talk and fast he would end up carved and cut like piece of meat on the slaughter bench. After he had extracted every useful information he could from the fel orc, he had killed him and cut out his tongue as promised. Volkan grunted as he finished the report and sealed it in an envelope. It was time to head back to Garadar.