Teasers, you say? Hmm . . .
Aboard the slave ship
The ship groaned as its bulk cut through the cold waters of Pelluria and the thickening mist. Laden with its enslaved cargo, hundreds of bodies tied and bound in racks lining its bowels, the slave ship ponderously made its way along the coast.
"I can't see a damned thing out here," growled Hrtak to himself, clenching the pommel of his sheathed verdatch. It was as if that witch from the east had called down these mists, the fog was so impenetrable.
Then a dark shape caught his eye. Fleeting, at first he thought it was an illlusion. But no, there it was again. Hrtak's eyes narrowed and he slowly pulled out his serrated verdatch, even as his heart began to thump hard in his chest, thudding against his chain. He raised his weapon and turned, inhaling to yell out the warning, the warning that the pirates, those refugees, the ragtag humans, had arrived.
An arrow embedded itself in his throat, and with a gurgle Hrtak fell to the planks.
A dark shape appeared out of the mists alongside the slave ship.
And the slaughter of the orcs began.