ImTired
"Thank you, O great Sokeyr! You are so right, serving is not always easy, but working for a Dark Lord has it's bonuses. Every evening unlimited grog, plundering, murdering, pilaging. I like my job. They call me Pushkrimp the Messenger. I am the one who brings the messages, man the communication room and am head of communication. I like talking to people, do you like talking? Well doesn't everyone... How is your day going? Mine has been fine, walking with my caragor, drinking some grog, delivering some letters, drinking some more grog and..."
The orc keeps talking, the orcs who see this all happening start to laugh.
"Not wise of you, hell lord. Once you start a talk with him, it takes a long time until you get rid of him."
"And then I told him, no way! And he said yeah, just add some grog and it starts to glow in the dark. That is such a magnificent thing and..."
"Pushkrimp, stop that. You are talking his ears off." Gash the Golden walks towards Pushkrimp, grabs him by his ear, and walks with him away. "Don't annoy the guests, have you forgotten that rule again, you silly..."
The voice diminishes as the orcs step further away.