So I brought it to myself, I'm probably going insane. Not many people find elves, gnomes, dwarves, pale snake men dropping their own children, and talking humanoid insects. But on my run, it's either I'm dreaming, or I'm just imagining this in my head while I drool on the floor of a mental hospital.
When I was first found by the Matriarch, I was named Val-iea, Little Warrior. I was different, but she and the others of the Tribe love me all the same.
If I had never had a Finding, it would have been so much easier.
People were afraid of Orcs; most are still wary at the very least. They used to say that an Orc's flesh is as cold and hard as death, that their voices sounded like stones tumbling down the side of a mountain, and that their eyes could freeze you with fear, like a dragon's.
I wish that the Humans would have just left us all alone.
Now, after many years of peace, war is threatening again because of a spoiled little youngling. If Shurgal and I can not stop it, then everything his father, the Chieftain, has worked for will go to waste. Looks like now would be a very good time for those instincts that everyone claims I have to finally kick in.
Sometimes, I wish there was no magic.
