Smoke lazily drifted up from the outpost's ruins. Believed to be a mighty structure of granite and oak, it's defences had been undermined by the complacency and haughtiness of the warriors who staffed it. Now the bodies of those overconfident fools lay sprawled amidst the burnt-out husk, slaughtered in a surprise raid by the savage humanoids they were charged with monitoring in the first place. And yet were one who knew the keep's original complement to count the corpses of the fallen, he might find two warriors unaccounted for...
Sir Varien of Sanderson opened his eyes to the sight of grass a few inches from his face, falling from eye level. He tried to reach out to the ground only to realize his arms and legs were shackled to a pole. Orc barbarians carried him on their march home, trussed up like the carcass of a stag, save that he himself was not a carcass- yet. He tried to recall what had happened to put him in this situation.
He remembered standing on the outpost's walls with the archers, scanning for targets that could help turn the attack aside; like a leader whose death might make the orcs lose their nerve. He heard a crack like thunder, but louder and closer- under the camouflage of shrubbery a siege engine had vaulted a boulder that all but pulverized the turret and sent the knight tumbling toward the hard ground...
Varien realized the fall had rendered him unconscious, setting him up for easy capture. And yet he found it strange orcs had gone to the trouble of taking him prisoner at all, instead of just slitting his throat when they found him still alive.
He turned his head to the sound of moans. Another defender taken captive was slowly coming to. He recognized young Loren, the squire of Sir Laird. Varien had not seen how Loren could also have been knocked out, but he knew Laird would have fought to and past the death to protect his pupil from the green-skinned brutes. Loren looked all around in panic before his eyes met Varien's gaze.
"Sir Knight," Loren pleaded, "What's going on? What do they intend to do to us?"
Varien had several theories, none of them good- ranging from torture for information, to ritual sacrifice to an interesting ingredient for the stew pot.
He kept these possibilities to himself however; partly to avoid giving the squire panic, but also partly because the orcs might understand human speech and he didn't want to give these savages ideas they might not already have.
"Stay strong," He tried to keep his tone comforting, "And keep watch for any opportunities to escape." The orcs carrying them evidently comprehended his words, if their guttural chuckling was any indication.
The beasts finally reached their home. Within a crude yet intimidating palisade, huts were laid out in circles, the rings decreasing in size the closer to the centre of the village in which a massive firepit dominated, surrounded by eating tables on one side and the largest dwellings- saved for the chieftain and his family- on the other. The peasants and 'maidens' of the tribe greeted the returning plunderers with deep-voiced cheers that would curl even a brave man's hair.
The soldiers carrying Varien and Loren slid the prisoners' chains from the poles, dropping the humans to the ground. With their arms cuffed behind their backs and their legs chained together at the ankles, the noblemen had to shuffle to turn themselves upright- a humiliating task that gave their captors no end of amusement.
Out of the largest hut an Orc taller, bulkier and wearing more impressive armour than the rest strutted. He looked over the prisoners as one of the raiding party spoke in a language that sounded like the grunting of pigs to the knight's ears. This Orc- presumably the tribe's leader, looked the captives over for a few seconds until his face gave the expression of being pleased with something. He particularly chuckled at seeing the short chains that bound Varien at the ankles.
Would you be so brave to laugh were I not in irons, Chieftain? Varien silently seethed, I don't recall seeing you fight alongside your people at the outpost.
The sun made its gradual pace across the sky. With little else they could do in their position Varien and Loren looked all around and not just out of curiosity; both still nurtured illusions of escape and thought anything they saw or learned here could be useful, if not for them then other human fighters. He paid notice not only to the warriors, but the peons and labourers who scurried about to obey the orders of those warriors, including the females.
