On the edge of the Drehr thicket, a stern and square jawed Dwarf looks over his haggard crew.
“Foreman Agamm what is ohr status?”
”Well Capt’n, it’s not good. Da outpost has been completely overrun by da greenskins. Da ‘quipment has been looted or destroyed, and da new steam drill suffered so much damage that we didn’t have anyt’ing left to salvage, it’s almost like dey were targeting it. We suffered only a few casualties, two of ohr brothers, Thorurn and Galvic, were killed. Da rest suffered minor injuries.”
“I have no doubt this is da work of Redclaw. He has been a thorn in ohr side for too long. It’s not by chance that this horde of Orcs and Goblins came raining down on uz.”
“Capt’n, what will we do? We don’t have da men to take da outpost back, nor da ‘quipment to continue ohr expedition. “
“We will retreat for now, and seek out da local Kings of men. We have old alliances with dem, it is ohr right to request assistance, and if that’s not good enough… even da most craven of men will come to ohr side when dey think of da vast wealth da Ironfist clan has accumulated. With their assistance we will retake ohr outpost, and wipe dis greenskin scum from da mountains.”