"I am called Ikrah from the Skalsser Tribe! I come here to speak with your leader!" he shouted while moving forward slowly.
Ikrah was preparing himself to flee away if needed be. Him dropping his weapon was a common way for orcs to say that they came with no hostile intentions.
Presenting himself in the line of fire, Ikrah was covered in sweat despite the wind that was howling and making his long hair flutter. He felt scared, but thinking about the many who will die if a battle breaks out between them and their visitors, he steeled his heart and stood still, waiting for the response of those on the walls.
Like the jaws of a monster, the wooden gate slowly opened. The many warriors on the walls lowered their weapons and stood still like statues. Ikrah sighed in relief as the weapons that were aimed at him were lowered. It was not good to have many weapons aimed at you that could end your life with a simple mistake.
"A warrior never worries about his fear."
- Carlos Castaneda