Anung the black orc squared shoulders with the young king,
challenging him to attack. “Hail the mighty King Vorenus –
ruler of the kingdom of Zor! Wandering through the woods
like a lost little boy – attack me boy!”

The young king stared at the ground, poking at a
snow bore worm with a stick. He sliced it in half and
watched the two bleeding pieces squirm away. “Anny, I’m
getting tired of all this training. And I AM a little boy… I’m
only 9. Why do I have to learn hand to hand combat? I want
to learn how to shoot arrows!”

Anung approached little Vorenus and grabbed him by the
neck. “I am an Orc Warrior of Zor – the only orc soldier of
Zor. If you meet up with my kind out here in the woods alone
you will be gutted like a pig and eaten. He released his grip on Vorenus’ small neck and placed his left hand on his shoulder.

“They’d kill me?”

“They would kill you…”

“Then they would eat me? Why?”

“Because it’s their way…”

“But you’re an orc. Do you want to kill me and eat me?”