War is all that you know. For your clan, war is a permanent state of being. Just as you need meat to sustain you and leather armour to protect your leathery green skin, war keeps your thirst for chaos and violence sated.
Your clan now gathers to prepare for the war against the goblins. The creatures used to be your allies, but in the last battle they became cowardly and ran. Now there is nothing more to be done than to hunt down every one of them and serve them over your fire.
The little ones would often find their way to the sharper pieces of flint. Unlike human spawnlings which would often cut themselves, the more brutal young of the Orcs would instinctively know to hack the bone.
Greaves became common apparel for Orcish mothers soon after.