Chaos was all over the place, as the orc infantry do their best to keep up with their rampaging ogre allies. Chunks of flesh and black blood came flying everywhere. Whenever the ogres swung their merciless maces, they would tear apart a poor corrupted creature and rain down bits of flesh and black blood.
"Keep up!"
"Push!"
"Strike!"
"Restore!"
Commands kept coming in as the orc infantry pushed their way through the thick line of corrupted creatures. Iron bolts from the rear kept on raining down on the battlefield as they impale those unlucky ones to be standing in their path. The swooshing sound of the iron bolts as they sail through the air was like an announcement of the death of those that were on their path.
Sometimes you are lucky, sometimes you're unlucky. It all weighs out at the end. That is my experience at least.
Toto Wolff