More backstory!
‘Easy,’ Joe decided twenty minutes later, probably meant something different in the local halfling dialect. The word sure didn’t apply to the plan they had quickly thrown together. Hell, the only reason it wasn’t more complicated was because there were only three of them to carry it out.
But at least his job was simple enough: all he had to be was the Big, Bad Orc. That had meant daubing his clothes and horse with intricate patterns of mud, just like an old-style chieftain from the days of yore. And skulls. There had to be a skull hat!
Well, that part wasn’t hard. There had been the occasional cow or gryphon skull, bleaching quietly in the sun, and the cow skull he was wearing now would hold together long enough for the diversion. The patterns, though… like he knew what the patterns meant! The Grushnarks might have been able to trace their ancestry all the way back to the Wars of Formation, but the family records were silent about its pre-Imperial forebears. Probably for a really good reason. Joe had smeared some lines on his face and upper torso in a vague pattern, and hoped for the best. Again, the disguise didn’t have to last long, just long enough.