My… everything hurt. I had a searing headache, I felt like I would puke any second, and all of my muscles ached. Interestingly enough, I couldn't feel much of anything where I was stabbed, and as far as I knew, orcs didn't have anesthesia or any herb of similar effect.

For a long time, days at least, I was stuck in a torturing cycle with no end in sight. I was in a constant state of half-sleep, sleep's warm embrace constantly evading my grasp.

Memories started flooding my brain, and I began to remember the fight. I made a very dumb mistake, and it nearly cost me my life. Well, I might be dying in this very moment for all I knew. I didn't feel like I was getting any better, so death might still be waiting for me. But I chose to believe that was not the case.

There was no way I would tell the other orcs of my stupid blunder. I planned on making something up.

I slowly started recalling events from after the fight, and how Mok carried me all the way to the tribe. I decided to pay him back to my best efforts if I survive this. He was the best friend I could ever hope for, and from now on, I was prepared to put my life on the line if it meant saving him.

Suddenly, pain erupted. Perhaps because of my hazy state of mind, the pain did not hit me as hard as it should. With it also came great relief, like I had let just out a breath I had been holding for minutes.

It all originated from my wound. Perhaps I was just subject to a healing miracle? I honestly doubted it, as the Shaman had passed away and Zharra was far from being adept enough as a vessel to pull off something like this.

I had many questions, but few answers. I decided the best way to deal with this was to not deal with it at all. I trusted in the orcs to take care of me.

Sleep finally took me.

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I woke up. I could tell I slept for long because of how jumbled my mind was. It felt like when you wake up from a three hour nap, lost and confused. I even began to climb out of bed, ready to go about my daily activities, before being reminded of my situation by the searing pain that erupted from my side.

After gathering my thoughts, I looked around. I was resting in granny's house, and from the warm, orange sunlight, I gathered it was most likely late afternoon.

There was an unmoving figure, sprawled out on the floor next to me.

This reminds me of some bad memories.

The figure on the floor was Mok, I realised. He was passed out.

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I decided to wait for him to wake up. I didn't intend to be rude to my saviour, after all.

…

I grew bored of this. It's been hours, and it's completely dark outside already. No one else came to check up on me in the meantime. Rude bastards.

I was just about to throw a pebble into his face, when he jolted awake. Talk about good timing.

'Hey, man. Thank you for saving me. I truly mean it.'

Well, that came out sounding very dry. I should have rehearsed a bit before he woke up.

'Glad to see you're alive. I can't believe gobllins almost took out the mighty Raknar.' He chuckled.

I could tell he was suppressing a smile with all his might. I didn't mind to supress mine.

I held my arms open and gave him a tight hug, slapping him on the back a bit too hard. My wound burned, but I ignored it. I wouldn't let it spoil this moment.

'Now no one will be able to argue the great power of Raknar and Mok, huh?'

A smile finally crept onto his face.

We kept talking for some time afterwards as well, before he left and told me to get some sleep, as if I hadn't just slept for whole days.

He told me the wound on my side grew infected, which is why they had to puncture it and let all the pus spill out. They thought the dagger I was stabbed with was poisoned at first, but it was more likely it was just very dirty. As expected of goblins, I suppose. Well, now I at least know the reason behind that sudden pain I had felt.

Zharra, granny, and many other orcs came to visit me as well. It touches me to see how much they care for me, even though I essentially thought of them as characters in a game until my father's untimely death.

Maybe my goal in this world should not be defeating the goblins, but more so protecting the orcs. I'm sure Roknar would agree.

That being said, they say that the best kind of defense is attack. I'm coming for you, goblin chief.

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Mok and I were quickly promoted to the first team, with Thok finally giving in. Hunting was hard work though, and we were yelled at by Thok very often.

'Watch where you're stepping! Do you want to alert the whole forest of our presence?' He would say.

I believe this was his way of trying to protect us. Mok wouldn't agree though.

'You talking is way louder than any twigs snapping beneath our feet!' He would fire back. He didn't really possess the patience a proper hunter should boast.

For about two months after joining the first team, we didn't even catch a glimpse of the goblins. Mok and I were really unlucky to stumble upon them in the forest, especially that far towards the village. We never figured out what they were doing that close to our territory.

Hunting taught me how to accept defeat, as well. There was nothing more embarrassing and downright tragic to walk back through the village gates empty handed. Seeing the young kids' excitement diminish once they see no prey was caught hurt me the most. They really reminded me of myself and Mok.

Speaking of kids, there have been more and more lately. Even with the couple of deaths at the hands of the goblins, the population of the village has been slowly rising. Perhaps, the orcs wanted to ensure the continuation of their bloodline, fearing possible death from the goblins. I was not sure.

What I knew, however, was that we were finally preparing to strike back. Winter was quickly approaching, and Thok devised a plan of showing the goblins who the real ruler of this forest was.

We needed to secure more food for the winter, so the plan was to ambush the goblins near the river. Doing this would not only slightly diminish their numbers, but also, hopefully, scare them away from the river for the time left before it freezes over.

During that period of time, we planned to catch as many fish as possible to feed the young.

To say I was excited would be an understatement. It was time to fight back.