Grukk One-Tusk

Ork elite. Orgrim's man.

One tusk is snapped halfway down. The eyes above it are sharp with years of judgment.

The party met him in the catacombs, standing bloodied in the middle of a massacre on sealed ground. Torchlight came down the tunnel with boots in disciplined rhythm: six Orks in forged plate marked with clan glyphs, Grukk at their head, the silent Chosen at their side. He wanted answers before he dragged anyone up in chains. He got them straight. He looked at Riven's wound and at the dead, and decided the party had crawled through the same hell those elves died in. He pointed them to the stair and told them not to come back down, with a sour glance at the robed escort he was stuck sharing the tombs with.

He did more than let them walk. When the council heard of the sealed door and its eight missing runes, Grukk produced two of them, found while he was securing the catacombs and still faintly glowing. He stood with the party against The Speaker the night the Blood Elves came.

The Guild took him with the rest. He was held in the same row of cells as Orgrim, and when Yennen came begging for Hammerfall to be given up, neither Ork gave him anything.

"Yoooou picked a poor place to beg, little man."