His home… A once stunning, peaceful palace and kingdom adorned by thick marble pillars and statues of his Nobel and brave parents. The king and queen of Volengrad, was now reduced to pure dust, ashes, and blood.

He remembered their scowl as the devilish Orc’s stared at the ruined gates of his home, his kingdom, their thick arms crossed over their chests, his men’s spears pointed outward, terrified, while the Orc’s were restless and eager for a fight. They had traveled for days to reach the city, to conquer.

He knew why they had wanted the city, it was due to their temple of Vesna, which he knew had a lot of his kingdoms gold.

And that’s what they did. They destroyed it all.

It had taken hours, but no less, the casualties were horrific, they had killed thousands of his people, his family, stole thousands of dollars worth of gold, and absolutely destroyed the city that was now theirs.

And while this was happening, Ollie was left cowering, pathetic, crying in the corner of the castle, and the Orc’s just found it amusing. The beasts had just killed his parents in front of him, their had ripped out their necks with their bear teeth, and now the main Orc… the leader, came over and knocked him out with a good punch to the face.

The sun was now setting, the air getting cold as the Orc’s packed up and prepared to go home. They had gathered a cart, for which they put still unconscious Ollie into.

The hit to the head was rough, but as he was slowly coming to his senses in his sleep, he heard what was happening.

An Orc shut the cart gate, thumping their hand against the whip for the horses, the horses began to move past the many orc men and strode away from the city. He felt sick, he didn’t want to open his eyes, he wanted to leave, to stay far away from these beasts. Maybe he could run? Maybe he had a better chance if he tried? There had to be someone out there, that’s all he could think about. It broke him.