The solution

Fitzford Lumenbertle: Assistant to the High overseer of the orc-blood-division, division, looks worriedly at his padded case of potions.

One of them is missing.

The light blue one.

Hurriedly checking the floor and behind his foldaway table, he looks nervously from side to side.

His mentor is going to be furious if he finds out…

The little gnome hesitates.

‘If’ he finds out…

The bright blue potion was only one of the decoctions used to determine the blood heritage of the orcs as they entered the camp…

And the camp is scheduled to be dismantled in the next few weeks anyway.

The incidence of new orc arrivals has slowed to a trickle…

Perhaps he doesn’t have to tell the High overseer?

He’s been trusted to run the tests unsupervised for the last few months anyway…

A few discreet questions and he could probably guess where any new orcs should be placed.

Failing that, he could just arbitrarily select any one of the clans.

It’s not as if the idiot orcs would know any different!

Chuckling to himself, Fitzford shuts his potions case with a reassuring click.

No one will find out about the loss of the pale blue ingredient and, even if one of the orcs find it, they’ll probably just drink it.

Fitzford stops at that thought and mutters out loud...

‘It won’t taste nice… By the will of Garl Glittergold, I hope it doesn’t kill one of them!’