White hand

I watched as more and more orcs entered the village. Tensions rose in the village between the Dunlendings of the ox-clan and the their white hand guests. As the day progressed the tension ended up in some brawl fights between orcs and ox-clan here and there. Me and Frerick both were feeling the dread of the upcoming fate that awaited us. Somewhere around noon a Dunland warrior silently came to our cages, carefully looking around if no-one spotted him. He threw at both of us an unspoiled big chunk of roasted boar leg and quickly disappeared again.

It was night time, and the stars shone brightly. The world slowly returned to its normal shape again, as the haze of the shamans sorcery vaporized. I was sitting in my familiar dog cage again. I heard Frericks voice "What did they do to you? You look rather pale.." I shook my head "I have no idea man, the old goon was messing with my head." I soon fell asleep, and awoke a day later.