The larger of the two guards looked at Algra and let out a large roar, opening out his arms and lifting his hands toward the ever darkening sky. The move startled Gregory but it didn't seem to be any kind of challenge or attack. He watched Algra lift her hand in some kind of Salute before speaking in orcish. Their language was spoken in short starts and stops consisting of words mostly one or two syllables long. Despite its apparent simplicity he Listened to find that it had a very direct sort of rhythm that was oddly satisfying to hear. It sounded Like someone reciting a very angry abrupt poem in gibberish.

The reactions told him more than the words themselves as the guards arms lowered and a look of shock came across his face. The massive jaw of the larger one fell open rather dumbly as he listened to Algra's speech. Finally she turned around and pointed at Gregory before falling to one knee before him. The guards looked at this with disbelief before dumbly looking to each other and then slowly falling to one knee along with her. Gregory looked behind him for the royalty, fully prepared to play along with the kneeling before he realised that he was the focus of the show of respect.

Well he sure as hell didn't expect that.

After a few Long moments the kneeling in silence was growing somewhat awkward.

"Um, you can get up?" He ventured.

Algra stood and the guards followed suit shortly after. They looked at him with intense interest before stepping aside and throwing the large wooden gates open. Gregory Looked on to see the tents and a few small huts beyond the gateway. Fireplaces were Lit and sending dark smoke into the sky as many orcs cooked their evening meals and talked in the avenues between the tents. The place bustled with life as the massive creatures lumbered about with their business. Gregory saw no humans however even as Algra led him through the gates. It took him all of thirty seconds before he saw a brawl break out over something between two enormous male orcs in the distance. The fight led to the destruction of a nearby tent before it was resolved with a familiar loud admission of defeat by the more battered participant.

Gregory was more concerned with the glances they were getting however. Many orcs cheered at their passing, some even stopped to look at him but most of the attention was upon Algra. It was becoming increasingly apparent that she had neglected to mention something very important to him. She took him along the pathways between the tents and huts toward a particularly large building that was unique in that it was made of stone. Everything in the camp seemed makeshift and temporary except this place. Gregory wasn't exactly reassured when he noticed a string of skulls of various shapes and sizes hanging from the walls on either side of the entrance.

The smell also took him off guard. It wasn't as bad as he should have expected but having Lived in modern suburbia most of his Life he wasn't used to the stench of orcs all living together without any kind of hygiene standards. He came to realise that Algra's one bath per week was likely considered downright overindulgent to most of her race.

For all that however it wasn't so bad, smells of cooking meat and fresh beer often stifled out the fouler underlying odours. When he stepped inside the stone building he found more pleasant smells wafting through the air from burners around the hall. For it was indeed a great hall of the kind he'd seen in old medieval movies. Two large tables dominated the room lined with orcs on each side eating and speaking of things in their odd Language.

At the opposite end of the room was the table presumably belonging to the Warchief where indeed an orc was seated. He was muscular even by the standards of his people and though he was seated Gregory wouldn't have been surprised if he stood at well over nine feet in height. He was bald with pointed ears, one of which seemed to have been mauled in the past. A deep scar ran over his brow and down across his right eye. To Gregory's horror, it seemed that this was the one that Algra was making a beeline toward.

Unlike in the streets where they had gained glances and gawps from onlookers, here in the hall as Algra was spotted the orcs fell completely silent. All eyes in the room turned to them as Gregory followed her between the tables toward the great orc who awaited them. He'd noticed them, his blazing orange eyes focused on Algra and then shifted to Gregory.

“You return." The Warchief's voice sounded Like Low rumbling thunder in the silent room. "I do." Algra nodded.

The sudden shift from orcish to a Language he recognised startled Gregory for it was clear that the great orc was speaking it for his benefit.

“You have been long in your absence from this hall Algra Strongblood.” Apparently the Warchief was more fluent in the Language than Algra.

"I have." She said.

"Now as you return here with this slave you do not bow to me?"

I am not yours to bow to, great Grolfir." Algra explained in a respectful tone.

These words brought gasps and roars from the surrounding tables. Grolfir, for that was apparently the name of the Warchief, turned his attention to Gregory with a sharp gaze that seemed to burn right into the boy.

“You claimed Algra?" The tone of utter disbelief was almost humorous coming from the massive creature.

“Well she tried to claim me and I won...so I guess..." Gregory started nervously.

“I do not believe it. Algra, you will speak with me." He turned and pointed at Gregory. "You shall be taken to the emissary until dawn.”

“I am not yours Grolfir." Algra's tone had taken on a dangerous note of its own.

“You are not..." The bellowing voice of the orc began as his eyes blazed and his face contorted into a snarl. Gregory damn near soiled himself at the sudden outburst before Grolfir fell silent.

“Human, will you allow me to speak with Algra alone?" His voice was calmer though his eyes still Looked upon them like he wanted to strangle something.

“If...um, I guess that's alright if it's ok with her." Gregory spluttered before he looked to Algra for any sign of what he should say.