Thala's heart raced in her chest. She was no fighter, that much she knew. And this beast of a female thing before her, hands large enough to crush her skull in the grasp of only one of them, could surely outpace, outfight and overpower her with little effort. She glance around the rocky precipice where they now stood, looking for some route of escape.

"Oh, little pinkling, there's nowhere to run here. Now come! Take the blade and do your worst! I would see what you are made of, one way or another! You will fight and die, or you will cower and die, but either way, " she taunted, "you will die!" The ork mob howled with laughter as the she-ork threw her hands in the air again, turning about and playing to her crowd.