There was resistance. The grieving women were not weak, and there were some old and young men present as well. Only a handful of them were armed, but their size and strength was enough to be dangerous. We outnumber the enemy five to one, but it would usually take fifteen to twenty Orcs to challenge a Fomor.

The way I've chosen to deal with this disadvantage is in the placement of my heavy troops and Magic casters. My most powerful fighters can take on as many as four Fomors at once without falling, though victory would be hard to assure at more than three. They draw numbers away from the weaker troops. The number advantage of the weaker troops is still not quite enough, but the Magic casters at the back occasionally fire on the enemies, causing a confusion and good damage as well.

The fighting started very close, but we had the advantage of being prepared. Now, with every Fomor that falls, our advantage becomes more pronounced. After twenty minutes, the flow of battle turns to us dominating our opponents. I have had to heal plenty of near-death Orcs, though, and two died before I could reach them.

When there are only fourteen Fomors left: eleven women and three men, I order the troops to encircle them. The enemy is surrounded, pressed up against the backs of their kin. They bare their flat teeth threateningly. I move to the front of the encirclement and call out to the routed foe.

“Speak to me,” I ordered.

Several of the females growled menacingly, and I took up the severed head of one of the few males that had still been left in the village. I displayed it to them to provoke curses upon me and my army.

“I don't believe you have no language. Speak to me, beasts.”

One of the women looked closely at the head and let out a bleating cry. She shouted out words with lots of long vowels and trilled consonants. Her voice cracked more than once from the overbearing emotion.

She quieted down before I could translate it, so I attempted to provoke her further. Making an ugly grin, I positioned one hand behind my ear and leaned in like I hadn't heard her desperate cries.

“Thruu llap! Screll uunyoorech ttep! Nnyetear out your eyes you retched pig! I said put my brother down!”

I corrected my posture and smirked. Pursing my lips and curling my tongue, I gave the Fomor language a try.

“Now, was that so hard? Thank you for teaching your language to me just now.”

The Fomor woman stared with wide, bloodshot eyes. I handed the severed head to a subordinate, who carried it off to one of the carts.

“I apologize for my disrespectful actions a moment ago, but I had to get you to speak, you understand. Let’s start over.” I unfurled my wings for effect and to make myself look larger. Usually, my opponents are closer to half my size than twice it.

“I am Vyra, the Orc Lord. You can imagine why I'm here.” Some of the Fomors whispered nervously among themselves, but I spoke on. “Your people gained significant strength and decided to lead an offensive against my people. I understand, really I do. The Expansionist Orc tribes have been doing the same to you for years, haven't they? So it isn't like I don't sympathize with your situation, but it won't change my position on this matter.”

“I want your land, I want your labor, I want to eliminate you as a threat. Whatever your feelings right now, you have only two options. Surrender and become slaves, or die. At least, if you are slaves, I can promise you food, shelter, and life. What you would preserve in death is up to your own mindset. You have ten seconds. Choose it in your hearts.”

The Fomors looked slightly confused, but I really was just quietly waiting for them. When I had counted that ten seconds were up, I activated along with . I had confirmed long ago that these survivors all had a lower Will stat than I.

“Those who have chosen not to be slaves, lie down. Those who have chosen slavery, shall be my slaves indefinitely.” I deactivated both skills. Several Fomors had lain down. “Slaves, get on your knees,” I said casually. Many more Fomors dropped to their knees.

“Kill the ones still standing,” I ordered my Orcs. These ones hadn't made a decision in time. Too bad. It won't be long before the lying Fomors regain control of themselves. That order wasn't anything meant to be permanent.

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“Kill the ones lying down,” I ordered again. I could have had them kill themselves, but this way, my troops get more Magic Power.

Now, there are five females and one male who have been successfully enslaved. I stepped over to the kneeling Fomors and placed my hand on the closest one’s shoulder.

“You have my condolences. Please gather anything useful from the village before we leave. I will heal any of you who are wounded, just say the word.”

Slaves are still living people. I won't treat them overly cruelly. However, I will lay claim to anything they have that can be useful to me.

If we start walking back now, the women should have enough time to cook dinner.

The slaves came back with some pelts and crude clay jars full of some kind of plant matter. There seems to be other things they can't carry, so I'll send a wagon over later to collect it. For now, I give the order to march home. The Fomors are stationed in the middle of the formation, so the others will feel less nervous when we return.

As we approach the gate to my fledgling city and walk through, I made a loud announcement with . “Our first battle was victorious. We defeated the enemy and return with a feast. These six are our new slaves. You may order them to help perform tasks, but if I find you are treating them poorly, there will be punishment.”

I grinned. “But, more importantly, gather the firewood.”

Cheers and other festive sounds rang out. Hungry men ran back and forth to help the women pile the cooking fire faster. I stood near the slaves while watching the sudden activity.

“You have flat teeth,” I commented. “Are you herbivores?”

“Yes, master,” the nearest slave answered politely.

“Then, I imagine the things in those pots are food?”

“Yes, master.”

“We thought it should be useful.”

“You can have it.”

“No, my people can eat anything. Keep those for yourselves. You can supplement it with items from the garden as well.”

If these guys can only eat plants, it seems I know where the food stores will be going this winter. Luckily, we’ll have the food from the Fomor villages as well. It should be more of a gain than a loss. But I will have to increase plant production.

This morning, I only tilled the soil enough so the planting could be done. Now, I went over and used to help things grow. I dug a well down beside the underground river. Enough ground water should seep in from there. It would be bad if I put it too close, and our buckets got swept away by the current. Anyway, now Fiara is freed from water duty.

I feel bad for everybody who will have to sleep outside, but my next priority is a storage area for the vegetables. I put it near the farms to save the Goblins some trouble. I also have a couple wagons moved over here for the little guys to use. Carrying tools and produce should be easier now.

The storage area has cast on it, and preserve on everything inside. Just as before, I had Fiara stick some ice in there to keep things cool. With this, it wouldn't lose to modern methods.

Oh yeah, there are a few things I didn't mention. The guys from our side who die get eaten just like any other meat. Food is important to Orcs, and that’s the best way to make their deaths mean something. Also, now that we aren't so pressed for time, we’ve started collecting magic cores from all the dead monsters we’ve encountered. We missed a lot during the fight against the Small Baphomets, because time was of the essence, but we’ve gathered quite a lot from this last encounter. They seem to be embedded in the inside of the front of the skull. As for what they do and why they're there, I still have no idea.

Well, but there is one thing I understand. The portion of a Monster’s Magic Power that doesn't get absorbed by its killer is kept there. Fiara has already holed herself up in a corner to start testing. I want to be over there with her, but there are still too many things for me to do. I had to make dozens of tablets for Fiara to record her results. Also, we have been without shelter for much, much too long.

Using , I created one two story house the way I wanted it. There were three short steps leading up to the doorway. There was a light, hard clay door on hinges that opens in. Inside on the wall was a flat slab on a pivot. It could be spun around to settle into a clasp on the inside of the door, which would essentially serve as a lock, or just to keep the door shut when the weather’s bad. Both the top and bottom floors are unfurnished, simple, square rooms. There are several “windows”, but they're really just holes in the wall. There are similar hinges and clasps by the windows, and something like a shutter that can be closed. The roof is just flat stone.

I put considerable effort into this one house. I don't want to rebuild everything later, so it's better to do it right the first time. Now, the reason I did it like this is for what comes next.

Standing very still, I put all of my attention toward building the Spell Pattern for . When it was complete and the hole in the middle was ready to receive my intention, the command I gave was to make as many copies of that house as my Magic Power would allow, built on a grid system. I was only able to make twenty of them with what I had left, but the space inside is enough to let a hundred sixty Orcs sleep indoors if they don't mind crowding.

I was worrying about how to decide who gets to sleep inside and who has to stay outside, but they actually resolved it themselves. A bunch of Orcs volunteered to stay outdoors. It could be that they didn't want to be all crowded together, but I'm still touched by the selflessness.

Ah, but if I had to pick, I'd rather sleep outside too. Hmm…

It ended up that most of the women slept inside, and all the Goblins crammed themselves into the remaining space. Within the next couple of days, the housing situation should get resolved. I'm looking forward to that greatly.