Roux I am, son of Saddal, of the Red Frost Mountains. Roux has awakened on the shore of an island, a clown-dressed human calling himself a Lord, and another clown calling himself a Duke give me instructions. How can beings of authority bear no arms, no armor? Do they have no Great War in these lands?

Quite aware of his lack of clothing, Roux the Orc set about wandering through the bustling halls of Valinor Castle, seeking out purpose. He found himself in a large hall. This room had many pillars and two rows of parallel tables, each with a row of people behind them. He glances to one side, and saw an assortment of weapons and warriors polishing and arranging weapons. He glanced to the other side and saw farming equipment. It didn't take him more than a moment to decide the more exciting path.

[ To Be Continued ]