Ambar woke up in a strange bed of musky furs.

  His arms and legs ached like he'd been run over by a cart.

  Sunlight flooded through gaps in the sticks that made the ceiling.

  It was daylight, how long had he slept? Where was he? Last he remembered he had punched a dark Orc. Thalia, in the cart behind him. . .

  Thalia! He thought and sat up, every muscle protesting.

  He saw her in a similar bundle across from him, mumbling gently in her sleep and he relaxed.

  “Awake, you?” a voice came from the side. An old dark Orc, covered in paint, tribal feathers and wrinkles was sitting in a wicker chair.

  “I. . . Yes.” Ambar said. He thought Orcs just killed humans. He never heard of one talking to humans.

  “You know my language?” He asked.

  The old Orc grinned. Ambar took that as a yes.

  “What do you want from us?” Ambar asked. He wanted to ask why he and Thalia weren't dead, but also didn't want to give this creature any ideas.

  The old Orc scrunched its face.

  “Power have you. Shaman power. Old power. Who taught?”

  “I don't know what you mean.” Ambar replied. What was it talking about? Did it mean the snap that kept giving him strength? Was it safe to admit it? How did this old Orc know?

  The old Orc stood up.

  “Come” it said. Ambar could see it wince with every proud step it took. These Orcs had taken them in instead of killing them. Even if he stayed, what could he do against an entire village of these things?

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  The old Orc held open a beaded cloth that served as a door.

  “Come” it said again. Ambar followed without complaint.

  Outside, the Orc village was bustling with activity, smaller Orcs ran around and played, fighting with sticks as their elders looked on. Old Orcs were sitting by the fire, smoke billowing from carved and decorated pipes. The huts were made from woven sticks and covered in grasses. An intricately carved log stood in front of each hut, but what they said, Ambar could not read. He didn't know Orcs had a written language. The old Orc continued forward. It refused to let its age slow its pace. They passed by women Orcs carrying pots of water and weaving cloths with beads

  “Why are we in your village?” Ambar tried to ask.

  “You won challenge. You guest. Vuuk’dul head lump big.” the old Orc laughed.

  The old Orc pointed at a ring of stones in the grass, Orcs were sitting on stumps on either side as two others slowly entered the ring, One with white face paint, the other with red. Both had rippling muscles that could crush Ambar's skull like a grape. They crouched down and began circling. “What did you bring me here for?” Ambar asked.

  “Watch,” the old Orc said.

  The Orcs in the ring let out a yell that made birds flee, then clashed together. Their arms around each other, pushing, pulling. Ambar thought of how he wrestled with the other boys growing up, these Orcs were similar, but on a much more bestial and brutal scale. Red headbutted the other to the cheers of their audience. White reeled backwards in pain. He stepped close to the stones then growled, his hands reaching down behind Red’s back. Red pushed forward, gripping White’s leg behind the knee, and heaving to throw him off balance, but it was too late. White heaved, his muscles rippling as he picked Red up off the ground and slammed him backwards out of the ring of stones.

  There was a terrible “crack” as one of the stones around the ring was forced down deeper into the soft loam. It was so fast that Ambar didn't know how to react.

  White stood up with his arms raised and the crowd cheered.

  He turned to Red with his arm outstretched and Red clasped it.

  The old Orc turned to Ambar. “Warrior Mog’dul great, father taught. You, old power. Who taught?”

  Ambar thought, the old Orc’s broken language was no barrier to his clear intent.

  “Everything I knew my father taught me too.” Ambar answered.

  “You father shaman?” The Orc asked.

  “No, my father was a farmer.”

  “No ask farm teach. Ask old power teach. Shaman power.” the Old Orc's face scrunched, it looked frustrated.

  “No one taught me about any old shaman powers.” Ambar answered again, what else could he say? He had no idea what the snap was.

  “Hmmmm dangerous. I teach.” the old Orc said, turning away. “First, teach talk. Come.”