“When Vanity grows uncontrolled, often it was life itself that it claimed as its price.” - Old orcish saying.

“This makes no sense, and that makes me wonder if there is a trap behind all this,” stated Orica bluntly at the gathered warchiefs and shamans of the horde’s war council. More than a few of the gathered orcs, elves, and goblins returned nods of agreement to her statement, while many others had thoughtful looks on their faces as they pondered the situation. “They barely number half our forces, and they sought out an open, direct confrontation?”

“Maybe they’re just stupid?” asked a goblin shaman, one of the representatives from Clan Grandfoot, with a hint of clearly exaggerated mockery in his voice. The question, asked in jest, elicited some polite chuckles and hearty guffaws from the gathered leader. The contingent from Clans Grandfoot and Hightower were the most numerous out of all clans, partly thanks to their large goblin population, whose bloods had long intermixed with the orcs of those clans. That gave their leaders some amount of say in the councils. “Seriously though, nobody in their right minds would take on twice his number in an open fight like this.”

“Actually… If you consider how most people south of the prairie viewed your kind… it might make some sense,” replied Aideen, who was present at the meeting as well as Orica’s honored guest. Between that status and the rapport she had quickly built up with most of the gathered shamans thanks to her healing skills, nobody protested her being present. “They… tend to view your kind as savage barbarians, and have that… Vanity of the thought that they were more civilized and better than you are. They might well think that their army could take you on and scatter you in a head-on fight since they view you only as some sort of rabble.”

“Could they be truly that foolish?” asked the Shaman-Chief from Clan Grimclaw. His clan was one of the more warlike one, who often fought with others with flimsy pretenses. Most of the time, the battles fought were more like friendly brawls than anything, however, as true hostility does not happen often in the prairie.

“I could see it,” replied the shaman from clan Grandfoot. He then gave his old rival from Clan Grimclaw a toothy grin - full of the dagger-like teeth that goblins had - before he continued with a teasing tone. “Don’t you remember the shame of your predecessor’s predecessor? Back then he thought we were easy pickings as well just because we were smaller, and found that out the hard way.”

The Grimclaw’s Shaman-Chief looked annoyed at the reminder of the shame from generations back, which had indeed happened much like how the Grandfoot shaman said. A few of the tribes who lived close to them chuckled at the reminder as well. It was an old shame for the Grimclaws to have lost badly to the Grandfoots and Hightowers because they had underestimated them badly back then.

“If these humans thought of us as backward savages, then it made sense. You don’t necessarily need that many people to drive away tribes of wild kobolds, don’t you?” added the Grandfoot shaman. Kobolds were an odd breed of creatures that were mistaken as a kind of therian at first, but most people later relegated them to little more than pests and nuisances. They were barely more intelligent than most animals, and just happened to look the part. “If they see us in the same way… than it would make some sense, I think.”

“You can’t discount the possibility that their commander might be a cautious one and had laid a trap as well, though. Granted, given the number disparity here I don’t even know what sort of trap would even help,” said Aideen as a counterpoint. “Unlike your people, most human armies usually involved conscripts, and they barely know how to fight at all, other than what little they picked up in training.”

“They barely know how to fight?”

“Yeah, farmers, potters, cobblers, and the likes. People who mostly won’t even know the sharp end of a spear from the blunt one. It’s pretty common practice to gather them up to fight for you in wars of the human lands,” replied Aideen as she clarified as she noticed how many of the orcs looked baffled at the concept. It was understandable. Any orc, regardless of what profession they ended up pursuing in life, knew how to fight. Their culture and way of living practically demanded it. “Scrounged up, given spears and whatever excuse for armor was available, then made to march and kill for their lords.”

Aideen had not bothered to hide the distaste of such practices in her voice. It was one thing to fight in defense of one’s own homes, but it was another thing altogether for rulers to make use of their people, who more often than not wanted no part of it, for conquests that did little more than satisfy their own egos, if that. This invasion into the orcish prairies was likely much like that, something driven more by vanity and arrogance, rather than actual meaningful thoughts.

Whereas the humans brought only the healthy and relatively young to war, with a general preference for males, the orcs had simply allowed everyone that aren’t too old or too young or otherwise indisposed to be part of the horde, not just their warriors and hunters. Those that stayed behind could serve as a reserve if they were needed, but all things considered, Aideen thought that the chances of the human army being able to take on a horde twice its size was nonexistent.

Little different than the chance a snowball would have in an active volcano.

“We will presume that the humans had a plan, or a trap of some sort, just in case,” said Orica after a discussion with the other warchiefs. “Warchief Buknug of Clan Redhorn, I would like you to take command of a third of our horde to act as reserves. If you spot the humans making their move, hit them by your own judgement.”

“Understood, Warchief,” replied the large orcish male Orica had just named. “What if they humans were… well… just being stupid like some had said?”

“Then you are free to circle around and hit them from the flank and rear. Drive them from our lands like how we drive great herds of aurochs and bisons, and make it clear to them that their intrusion is most unwelcome.”

“It will be done.”