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The last days had become something of a blur to Arrald -- for Dim, they were more of an opaque haze through which he could no longer see without squinting. The fighting had been good, and the running, but the plans and the plots. . .these were all too much for him. Arrald was little better off. He had, at first, tried to keep up with the developments, but it had proven beyond him. All he clung to know was what he'd been told by the orcs who'd been sent to them by that orky chieftan, the Big One now in charge. "Wait here," they'd said, "and crush whoever comes down that road!"
This was easy enough, and so they sat and waited. Arrald could smell Broga and Grimm somewhere about but he didn't care to speak with them. In the last battle, they'd been of little enough use to him when that Elfy girlie had come at him so hard with her nasty arrows, and he wasn't about to forget or forgive that. He rubbed the wounds in his behind and shifted once more to make himself comfortable. No matter what else happened this day, he would crush that Elf. . .
"Brother," Dim said beside him.
"What!" Arrald was brittle with anger and the desire to kill, and in no mood to answer his brother's questions. Dim seemed not to notice.
"I'm not so sure brother that this is going to work out for us."
This caught Arrald's attention. "What do you mean?" He glared at his brother. "We'll rip these nasty creatures to pieces and then we can get out of this cursed Elvish land and go back to our nice cave. Oh, I do hope that the wolves haven't got to that last nice piece of mutton as we stored away in the back."
"It will have gone all rancid now, brother. We'll have to cook it extra long to burn out the rot, and maybe flavour it with sommat from the ground."
Arrald made a face. "You eat nasty plants that grow in the dirt. I'll sticks to mutton. The rot is what gives it flavour after all."
They were silent for a time with the hunger. Dim spoke again. "But like I said, brother, I do hope we can get back to that mutton. I have an odd fear of what's going to happen to us. Twice now we've gone after those invaders and twice we got a bit worse than we gave. If we really go at them a third time like the orcky's say. . .well. . ."
"Well what?" Arrald barked.
"Well, I don't know as we'll be able to enjoy that mutton." Arrald no longer seemed to be listening to his brother. He was staring hard down the Road, his nostrils flaring wide with the scent of approaching prey. "Brother," Dim began again. "If we don't make it back to our cave, I'd just like to say. . ."
"Sssh!" Arrald hissed between his teeth. He pointed toward the Road with his club. "They're coming!"
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