Tavor N'eveth turned and was about to plunge into the river when a particular foul stench reached his nostrils. It was a familiar odour, that which belonged to an Orc. He turned towards the smell, and it came from over the hill. There was the sound of rustling leaves, probably a bear or some other large creature, and the clink of Orc armour; of chain on chain on leather. There was a screech of pain, certainly from the Orc, followed by a great roar as the ground shook; something large, heavier than a bear, was charging. It was not the Orc, for Orcs were not of much weight. He would find out next, but first he had to remove the Orc from existence, from the world of the living. Raising his staff and pointing the crook at the tip towards the river, the crocodile summoned a great arc of water from the river, which landed on the Orc, for it was ordered to drown the creature. The liquid found its way through the victim's lungs, and the foul creature fell to the ground rolling to the foot of the hill.
Tavor N'eveth stood upon the crest of the hill, watching as the Orc sputtered and spat, but the water remained in his lungs, until at last the enemy was drowned, life drained, and lay lifeless on the ground. But the crocodile's reptilian eyes had landed on something else. The charger; a great creature, a reptilian, almost like he. His weapons of rock and stone lay in his hands. The beast was large, but not one of those mindless beings. Not a bear, certainly. Stronger than a bear. More powerful. The crocodile let out an inaudible growl, his eyes flickering to the dead orc, to the puddle of mud where the orc was when the water hit, to the reptilian, who was shorter than he was.
Was he, too, once a god, who was forced, banished, from his lands to this foreign locale ? Or was he born here ? The latter seemed less likely, yet he didn't have the looks of a god. Nevertheless, his might felt. The crocodile stood still, watching the reptile, ready to strike if he had to.