Gnorlin watches the massacre unfold around him. He wishes he was as brave as the other farmhands. "Oi! Gnome-filth! Ready to be skinned alive, sweetie!?" The gnome looks up to where the voice came from. An orc holding a barbed spear had sneaked up on him and was grinning at him with delight. Gnorlin looks around for a quick way out, but the orc would surely outrun him. Although the orcs did seem to be retreating, there were still some stragglers, and no one was paying attention to them. It seemed he had no choice but to attempt to put up a fight. He unsheathes his small dagger and holds it out in front of him. "S-stay b-b-b-back foul beast!" And with a uncertain roar he leaped forward... just to be knocked out cold by the blunt side of the spear in one hit.
Fire... Blood... Screaming... There was no escape from it. Death followed the villagers everywhere. And there he was! The brave gnome, killing orcs left right and center. But no... He was mortally wounded. He would surely not survive this onslaught. But haha! The gnome had fooled the orcs in getting closer and... "WAKE UP YOU PIECE OF SHIT!"
Gnorlin wakes up from the loud voice. He looks around to find he is in a cage. A grumpy looking orc had woke up him. "We don't want our food to be sleeping. We want our food to be scared shitless. Makes the meat tender. Ghehehe." Well, that at least answered the question what he was doing here. Wait, did that orc just say he was food? He looks at the cauldron above the fire, slowly heating up. He could also see some tents, other orcs and the village in the distance. This was probably a forward camp or something. The orc must have knocked him out and dragged him back to the camp. There weren't many orcs in the camp. Most of them were probably still fighting.
So, next question. How was he going to get out of here? He didn't want to end up in the stomach of some orcs, that was for certain. He just had to come up with some cunning plan.
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