[Novnarwen]

Orcs? Only by the sound of the word made him wriggle. He started shaking helplessly, as if cold. He drew the blanket about him again, covering himself from top to toe, only letting his eyes be visible. He had heard of Orcs before, but where, he didn't know. They were monsters; he knew that much.

Ingemar looked directly at the woman, whose name he couldn't remember; was she an orc? If so, then he would hide, hide all day and make her go away. Looking grimly at her, his gaze studying her movements stiffly, he felt a burning hatred swell up inside of him. Her face became at once blurry, and he could no longer see her true features. A new figure took shape. It was a most horrible shape; its hair was back and greasy, its eyes shone with evil and its faint grin was making him shiver with fear. He felt a sudden need to take action. Whether it was due to him being frightened or that he reacted towards something which appeared to him to be evil, it was impossible to tell. This new hostile attitude towards the brown-haired woman seemed to have a great effect on the woman herself, who started looking quite nervous where she stood, struggling with her anxiety. "What's wrong?" she asked, troubled, clearly seeing the sudden change that had come over the middle-aged man. Coming closer, Ingemar felt the little strength that remained in his body gather. He jumped up, having one target in mind; this person, this orc.

"Wraaaaah!!" he screamed. He stretched his hands out, threw the blanket over her and grabbed her about the waist. The burning fire in his eyes witnessed of a mad man, who was not used at having company. Not being able to distinguish between an orc and a woman emphasized particularly his lack of knowledge. Feeling the body of the young woman breaking under him, he too fell to the ground, rolling wildly, but getting to his feet as quickly as possible, aiming. He ran towards her, bending slightly to let his head get the first impact. He was just about to cast himself over her again, having only one thought in mind; she or whoever she was would not get away, when he felt a hand grab him briskly. “What do you think you’re doing?!” the man screamed, holding him firmly, forcing him to lie down on the ground.

Around him, Ingemar could see that the men were gathering. What were they going to do with him, he wondered? They were not orcs, or so it seemed; but that nevertheless, didn’t mean they weren’t monsters. He waited for something to happen, for them to get closer, but nothing did happen. Instead, they were all gathering around Ingemar’s victim, who lay silently on the ground a few feet from where himself. Ingemar looked oddly around him; what had happened? The woman who he had been talking to, a woman who had such kind eyes, lay motionless, it seemed, on the ground...