[Andras]

When Bain awoke, he did so with a startled yelp. When the small boat beached itself on the shore of the lake, he imagined it as the impact of the dragon landing on a pier next to him. His eyes were blinded by the morning sunlight as he tried to open them, and he lacked the energy or constitution to rise out of boat. The boy tried to process everything that had happened to him over the past several hours...he recalled the dragon torching the entire settlement of Lake-Town, he remembered handing the black arrow to his father, and then his dad heroically killing the dragon. But then he fell from the tower, slid off a cloth awning and into a boat before he fainted. And the boat must have taken him here.

Still nearly delirious and very tired, the skinny boy with the brown hair and furry coat slowly picked himself up and got out of the boat, looking around to see where he was. There were tall hills on one side and a forest on the other. The forest seemed easier to pass then the steep hills, so Bain headed into the woods, taking clumsy, shaking steps as he did so.

At the present moment, Bain didn't have a strong sense of direction. But he knew he had to head back upriver to get back home; or rather, find what was left of home along with any survivors. So he walked through the forest, following the general path of the river. The shore itself had too many big rocks and other obstacles; so he couldn't just walk beside the river, especially not in his weakened state.

Taking a moment to pause and rest under the shade of the trees, Bain closed his eyes and rested for a little while. Suddenly, he heard voices...and he realized he was not alone in the woods. They were deep, ugly voices; conversing with one another. Slowly creeping across the ground in the direction where they were coming from, he hid behind a rock and looked over it.

He saw several human-shaped figures, clothed in animal skins or dark armor, with unnaturally pale skin, wild eyes, and sharp teeth. They carried swords that looked more like butcher knives, heavy axes, or long pikes. And beyond the sight of them, the foul stench coming from their direction was all too familiar to Bain; as he recalled the night he had to defend his home from these vile monsters.

"Orcs!" thought Bain.

He wouldn't stand a chance against even one of these monsters. He had a small knife with him under his coat, given to him by his father. But for now the right thing to do was hide.

There were nine of them in total. The tallest among them carried a scythe, and his face, along with the rest of his body, was covered in bandages. This was an orc captain, Mazu the Burned. Among the orcs, there were those who rose above the common, swarming rabble and seized power for themselves among the horde; becoming leaders of orc-kind. Above the regular soldiers and thugs were captains, who served as leaders of small warbands, controlled a bit of territory for themselves, and served as bodyguards to warchiefs. The warchiefs themselves led armies of orcs and ruled over large territories from their own strongholds that they had claimed for themselves. And above the warchiefs were overlords, truly feared champions of the orc species, who were served by vast legions of orcs and ruled vast fortresses; filled with traps, siege equipment, and tamed war-beasts. Orcs fought among themselves to rise through this hierarchy, and orc society was a constant war for the survival of the fittest, filled with constant duels, backstabbings, and betrayals.

Mazu's bloodshot, angry eyes looked around the forest.

"Alright, boys. This looks like a good place to set up camp. Get your rest, you're going to need it. Tomorrow, we'll start raiding the roads and attacking any travelers or merchant caravans that try to pass through here. Remember the warchief's orders: loot anything we can, and kill any Tarks we find." Mazu said, "Tark" being a nasty slur towards the race of Men.

"He wants use to get any loot we can from the Tarks, and put fear into their hearts. Goroth will not tolerate failure, and as one of his best captains; neither will I."

Mazu then looked towards Bain. Not at him, but towards him. Enough to make Bain duck further behind the rock and completely out of sight, his heart pounding as his eyes widened with fear.

"Alright, you lazy pieces of Shrakh, secure the campsite and get some firewood for us to burn. We're going to have a very busy day tomorrow."

Bain remained behind the rock, wanting to stay hidden and worrying that any attempt to creep away would be too loud and would draw the orc's attention. But when he noticed two pairs of heavy footsteps walking through the leaves towards him, he realized he had no choice but to abandon his position.

Bain slowly crept through the underbrush, finding a hollowed-out log to hide in. He crawled inside of it and waited, hearing the orcs very near by as they gathered firewood.