Gorak blinked, the dimly lit hut coming into focus. A figure stood before him, silhouetted against the firelight. It was the one who had bested him in battle.

"Greetings," the figure said, his voice tinged with warmth. "I hope you're not too uncomfortable."

Gorak stared, his mind reeling. The figure was speaking Orcish, something unheard of from one with such delicate, almost elven features. The only elves he'd encountered were the few his father had kept as slaves, their cries and whimpers indecipherable.

"Elf," Gorak croaked, his voice raspy from disuse, "how is it you have acquired the tongue of my people?"

Freddie, taken aback by the label, paused before replying. He had been called "elf" before, but it still felt strange. It was a detail he'd address later. For now, he focused on the question. "I acquired it the same way any... anyone would," he replied with a playful lilt, "I absorbed it!"

Gorak's confusion deepened. This elf's demeanor defied all expectations. He seemed... kind. Yet, Gorak had seen the cold determination in his eyes during their battle. He knew this was a formidable adversary, one who could not be underestimated.

Orcish custom dictated that a defeated warrior became the slave of his victor. Gorak's life was forfeit, his freedom a debt to be repaid. He also recognized the wisdom in serving a warrior of such unorthodox skill. Perhaps this elf could teach him new ways to fight, to hone his abilities.

"It is time I formally introduce myself," Gorak declared, drawing himself up with as much dignity as his bonds allowed. "I am Gorak, formerly of the Bonebreaker tribe, now tribeless. I acknowledge you as my new master, and my life is yours to do with as you will."

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Freddie blinked, a look of surprise crossing his face. "Slavery? Seriously?" He paused, as if considering his words. "Where I'm from, slavery is abolished. I won't participate in that. All I want is some information. Then you're free to go, as long as you don't come back."

Gorak was stunned, almost as if he'd been slapped. To release a captured foe was unheard of, downright foolish. Surely this elf realized he could be tracked, ambushed, even killed.

"I do not understand," Gorak stammered. "Why this... generosity? Surely you realize..." He paused, remembering his position. "What is your name, since you will not take me as a slave?"

Freddie straightened. "My name is Freddie Samuel, but you can just call me Freddie."

Before Freddie could continue, Gorak interrupted, "Freddie... have you your own tribe? Where are your people? Why are you out here alone?" The question felt strange on his tongue, especially after being so soundly defeated by this solitary figure.

"My own tribe? What do you mean?" Freddie asked, tilting his head. "I don't belong to any tribe. Is this some kind of cultural thing?"

Gorak, seeing an opportunity, explained the concept of tribes, their importance in orcish society, and the significance of a chief. He painted a picture of mutual benefit, where Freddie could gain a protector and guide, while Gorak could regain a sense of belonging and purpose.

Freddie, intrigued by the idea, agreed. "Alright, Gorak," he said, a smile tugging at his lips, "if forming a tribe is what it takes, then let's do it. What do we need to do?"

Gorak explained that the first step was to choose a name for the tribe. Freddie thought for a moment, then declared, "Genesis."

The word, unfamiliar to Gorak, sounded strange in his guttural accent. Nonetheless, he accepted it. "Tribe Genesis is established," he declared, his voice booming through the hut. "I am now Gorak of Genesis."

"To new beginnings!" Freddie exclaimed, extending a closed fist towards Gorak in a gesture of camaraderie.

Gorak stared at the outstretched fist, puzzled. This was another custom he didn't understand, yet another mystery surrounding this enigmatic stranger.