The sun had set and the last light of dusk was fading as the six orcs made their way into the dark wilderness. The bonfires of the camp flickered across the ancient orc’s back, dancing shadows against his muscles.

Adam tried his hardest to match the chief’s stealth as they travelled. It was much harder than he would have guessed. Despite his size, the chief moved in his fur boots like a large cat stalking its prey.

I guess that’s not that far from the truth, Adam thought.

As the road approached the human village, a source of Sunday attackers, the orcs went off the path.

Small settlements like the village had just iron farming tools, clay pots, and bits of food. Even without words spoken, the troops knew that the chief was bypassing it for bigger spoils.

An hour’s worth of careful travel through fields and light woods brought them to a larger human town, one with less visible agriculture but more walls and roads. Where the previous village was made of wood and thatch, this town was crafted from stone and mortar. It was more permanent in every way.

“This, orcs, is worth attacking,” the Chief said in a muted voice. “But it’s also worth defending. Look.”

The chief motioned towards a watchtower to the right of the town, its lit lanterns standing out like beacons against the otherwise dark town.

“If the tower was stone, we couldn’t knock it over - at least not without a price. But this one is wood, and wood can be cut or broken.”

One by one, the chief pointed out each significant defensive feature of the town.

“The long building is the barracks, once the alarm rings, the fight comes from that direction. But humans rely on weapons. If you hit fast enough, you have some time before they can muster their forces.”

In the distance, the town’s only building made completely of stone loomed.

“A human church. In all their towns, they build the churches the strongest and heaviest, counting on their gods to protect them. When you attack, this is where the weak run to hide. The walls are the hardest to break, but nowhere is more sure to have treasure.”

For hours, the chief lectured in a low voice on every aspect of an attack on a town like this one. He talked about the terrain, the cover, where, how and why the villagers would run when danger presented itself in the form of… well, them.

Eventually, he had covered every possible topic. Crouched in the field, Adam knew they were as prepared as they could be. They were armed and educated. They knew every possibility that could be predicted. All that was left was to call the charge.

But the chief never called it. Hours passed without a word.

Max, Luke, and Adam stayed in position, waiting. Adam could feel the tension building in him, turning sour in his stomach. His muscles ached as he sat, expecting the villagers to spot them or the chief to move them. Minute after painful minute.

Dax and Sam had less patience.

Adam could hear them shifting impatiently behind them, moving. It was dark, but any extra attention drawing could easily result in them being caught. At some point, Dax bumped Sam or Sam bumped Dax - Adam couldn’t tell - and they started shoving, pushing at each other in the dark.

The chief turned around with rage in his eyes, but before he could move, Adam was already behind the two. He put a hand on each of their backs to get their attention.

“No”, he whispered. It was enough. They sank back into position without another word.

“It’s just before sunrise, watch the lanterns,” the chief said.

The lanterns on the guard tower had begun to burn down, but within minutes they were bright again. Adam watched as guards crawled down the ladder in faint lantern light, only to be replaced by new guards arriving for the morning watch.

“Just before dawn is when the guard is the weakest. The night guard is tired, and sometimes asleep.”

The sun finally began to rise.

“Watch their activity,” the chief said. “They aren’t like us. They don’t rise at the same time. The farmers will be first.”

He was right. The farmers rose and began driving livestock out to the fields. The chief pointed out the merchants opening their shops for business, then various tradesmen waking and going to the workshops and forges.

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“I’m showing you this so you can see something you’ve never seen before. Prosperity,” he motioned towards the town. “Tell me, what do they have?”

“Food,” said Dax.

“They have that, but so do we, enough to get by.”

The orcs stopped and thought. The humans had buildings and they could make weapons. But something really was different. Adam could almost smell it in the air, layered on top of but distinct from the stink of the humans.

“Hope,” Luke said.

Adam glanced at Luke, startled. The chief grunted approval.

“Yes, Luke. Hope. And growth. They are getting better, not worse.”

He suddenly stood up, not even trying to hide himself anymore.

“And here is your first real lesson, something you’ve heard but you haven’t listened to. Orcs are stronger and faster than humans. We could have attacked during the night. It would have been easier. But attacking during the day, that’s something they can see happening. It strikes a different kind of fear.”

From the village, the first sounds of alarm started to rise as they noticed the ancient orc in their field.

“Humans didn’t beat us just by taking our lands - they beat us by taking our hope.”

The chief raised his voice above his own motion as he unstrapped his axe and broke into a trot towards the village.

“Let’s see what we can do about taking some of it back.”

—

The fight, if it could be called that, was over in seconds. Ordinary villagers couldn’t hope to stand against the chief, and even the town guards were better at raising an alarm than hoisting their spears.

At first, they outnumbered the chief ten to one. It didn’t matter. Not when a single swing of his axe would splinter a half-dozen of their weapons or send a few of them flying through the air like thrown sacks of flour.

Most of the town didn’t even think of resisting. They either fled or cowered in their homes, hiding in cellars or under furniture and hoping the orcs would pass them over. The young orcs gathered most of the remaining townspeople into a group in front of the chief. They looked expectant for the chief’s order to start looting.

“Get what you can carry,” Adam said. “No more than that, and don’t be picky. By the time reinforcements arrive, we will have vanished.”

When the orcs moved to loot, the chief held up his fist, nullifying Adam’s order. Turning around, the chief stood in the middle of the road like a statue. He held his shoulders high and gazed out of town as if nothing of importance was happening. Sothey waited.

—

Adam wasn’t sure if the knight lived in the town and was out on patrol, or if he lived outside it and the townspeople found him. But soon enough, the knight came riding down the road, kicking up a storm of dust. He dismounted a safe distance away,

Knights never attacked orcs on horseback. Horses were terrified of orcs. They seemed to think the orcs were predators to them, and would bolt wildly in different directions when approaching orcs. They probably thought that orcs would eat them. They weren’t strictly wrong.

“I demand parlay!” the knight shouted.

“You may approach,” the Chief said.

A single knight wasn’t a match for an ancient orc without support, and he knew it. But the knight was brave, he walked up to the chief’s striking distance and began to nearly scream at him.

“What is the meaning of this? Release these people at once!”

“Have you never heard of an orc raid? You are lucky there are people left to release at all.”

“You’re insane! If you knew what was…”

The knight choked on his next words as the chief dropped his axe to the neck of a kneeling, petrified guard. Right before the axe cut the man’s neck, he slowed the fall. Its edge drew a small trickle of blood and a yelp from the guard.

“Care to speak more words, Human?”

The knight slumped as the reality of the situation hit him. He said nothing.

“What is our usual price for a bounty, knight? 200 gold? And how many are in this town?”

The chief rested his axe head on the ground and leaned on the haft, nearing his face close to the human’s helmet.

“I can let them go for free.”

Adam didn’t know how he could tell through the visor, but he was sure the knight was taken aback. So was he. What was the point of a raid, if not bounties?

“For free?”

“Nearly. We will leave as if nothing happened. Just a few bruised and cracked bones, no more.”

He turned and angled his head slightly towards Adam.

“So long as you can win in a fight against this orc.”

—

The knight walked up and inspected Adam like a horse, looking for tricks. But from what he appeared to be able to see, there weren’t any. Here was a shield-orc, normal in all respects.

“What’s your trick, Orc?”

“No trick. If you can defeat this child, your people go free.”

The knight took a last look at Adam, then looked up at the chief.

“You swear it?”

Even to a human, the oath of an orc meant something.

“On orcish honor.”

—

The knight stood several meters away, swinging his sword, loosening his muscles. The chief turned to face Adam.

“Are you afraid, orc?”

“No, Chief,” Adam lied.

“Then show me.”

The chief withdrew to the other orcs as Adam faced the knight and raised his shield. The knight charged. The first blows were nothing, especially compared to the chief. The sword clanged off Adam’s shield as he shifted and reshifted to block each blow.

But as Adam pushed for a shield bash, he felt the knight flow back with it. Each step sapped more and more of the strength of the blow. Then, when Adam tried to go on the offensive, the knight would absorb each swipe or push like a spring. After each of Adam’s attacks, the knight would rebound to deliver dozens of blows, each off-center or unexpected in a way that forced Adam to scramble for defense.

As the fight wore on, Adam started making mistakes. He nearly slipped chasing a feint from the knight and barely brought his shield up to block the actual blow aimed at his neck. His arms felt like lead, and whenever he blocked a side blow with just one arm, pain would shoot up his hands. It wasn’t the hardest thing to block a sword with a large, dedicated shield. It was another thing to repeat the same blocks while staying focused over a prolonged battle. And it was yet another thing to start gasping for air and have muscles screaming for air.

Adam was in danger of both.

He could hear the knight’s breathing getting heavier and see his chest heave under his armor. But it was as if the knight was breaking the usual rules of physicality. The swipes and stabs kept coming in swarms, just as heavy as the first strikes.

Adam lumped together some of his waning strength to push at the knight once more, and again the knight bounced off the blow like rubber. Unharmed.

He has to get tired eventually, Adam thought.

Doesn’t he?