"Where the fuck have you been?" A trio of orcs strode out to meet the pair. The one at the centre, leading the group was relatively young. Perhaps in his early twenties. For an orc that was already a seasoned warrior. The two keeping to his shoulders were much older. They had whispy grey hair and distinguished scars. Layers of tattoos covered their bodies. Veterans of the clan whose time to lead had passed them by. The one in the centre came to a stop. He pointed a wickedly curved sword at Hath. The blade was worn with many notches. It might once have been a two-handed scimitar, typically wielded by the desert warriors from Amol Kalit. Hath gave Scabhair a brief hand signal to stay in place as he walked forwards. He dropped his pack but kept his axe in hand. The two veterans looked entirely disinterested but the orc in the centre puffed out his chest and barred his teeth. Across the shoulders he was half as wide as Hath again. Thick, corded muscles held up the sword as if it were weightless. "Went west, then north." "Who the fuck is that?" the sword stayed in place but a nod was thrown at Scabhair. "Scabhair ri Eine of the Aiforn." "What the fuck is that?" "Inodeirr. A gathamhr. Giant lion." Hath had given almost no information at all but the orc took a few slow seconds to process it. He grunted and dropped his sword to the ground. He beat his chest with one fist and grinned. "You look just the same, little brother. " Hath dropped his axe, gave a nod and walked forwards. There was a purpose in his stride. Despite the smiles the tension still hung thick in the air. "As do you...Bathyr!" At the call of his name the larger orc swung his meaty fist. Hath was already moving. He ducked under the arm and drove his shoulder into Bathyr's chest. He got his hand to the back of a knee, pumped his legs and drove his brother to the floor. The ground almost shook. Hath cocked his elbow and the sound of each strike his administered to his brother's ribs rang out. Unfortunately he didn't managed to solidify his position and take full advantage of the situation. Bathyr drove his hand under Hath's jaw and pushed him away with raw strength before rolling them over. They grunted, snarled and wrestled for position. The two older orcs kept their distance. One of them eyed Scabhair to see if she would interfere. Hath struck with an elbow and split a lip. Bathyr spat blood across the ground before managing to pin the offending arm to his chest, taking away most of Hath's ability to fight back. His free hand was so large that he managed to grab Hath's entire face and slam his head down into the ground. He held it down until Hath went limp. A single second seemed to stretch out. Bathyr roared in laughed and let go. He slowly stood up before pulling Hath up, who looked slightly shaky on his feet. He grasped Hath around the back of the neck and pressed their foreheads together in an almost affectionate embrace. "Good to have you back," Bathyr grunted. "Just in time too." "It is good to be here." They seperated and Bathyr looked towards Scabhair. "We will have to see the chief. Where did you come from again?" he asked her.