"They're coming again!"

You drop your tools and rush back to the farmhouse to get your dagger. It is another orc raid. Your whole life has been spent defending your farm and your cattle from orc raids. Orcs have been around since Greyor broke the world into two continents. They seem almost common place, or they did at one time. For almost a year now the raids have become near fierce battles. Each time the orcs come in greater numbers and each time they are more daring. Long ago, merely the presence of an armed human would send them fleeing, but now they stand and fight to the death.

"Hurry up! It looks to be a big group this time!"

"I'm on my way!" you shout as you grab your foot-long dagger and rush out the door to confront the raging beasts.

"Five of them, just over that hill," your father explains while pointing with his wood axe.

"Not too bad, we can handle five," you respond.

The orcs rush over the hill and the two of you charge, trying to meet them as far as possible from the farmhouse where your mother and sister are hiding.

The impact of your charge sets the orcs off balance. With a quick swing your father reduces one of the foul creatures by a head. Your swipe cuts an orc deep in the arm. It screams and staggers away. A moment later and the two of you even the odds.

Suddenly a human scream pierces the air. You turn just in time to see a second raiding party crash through the door of your farmhouse. This was a trap! Horror freezes you as you watch an orc exit with your sister's limp body slung over his shoulder. Your father, terrified, turns and runs toward the house, but he never gets there. With his back turned he is easily taken down by a marauding orc.

"No!" you cry as you break free of your trance. Your arm seems to react without your control and you fatally stab the orc in facing you. With the opening in front of you, you dash for a small grove of trees about a quarter mile away. The orcs put up a token chase then turn back to their victory feast. Well hidden in the trees, you sink down and faint from fear and exertion.

You place the first shovel-full of dirt over your father's corpse. He now lies next to your mother and sister. You cover his face first, the empty sockets of where his eyes were clawed out being harder to bear than the jagged hole in his torso that used to house his vital organs. What they did to your mother and sister was a thousand times worse. There are no tears in your eyes, though you feel like you could cry for eternity. All that is there is a cold, dark hatred and a desire for revenge. Greyor's evil magic has ruined your family and your life. There is no reason to remain at the farm. You finish the graves, throw down the shovel, and without a last look, head north in the direction of Meadow. You have a few gold pieces left, hidden by your father under the floorboards. The orcs had not found them. With these you will begin your quest.

The birds chirp playfully, yet the wind blows cold, and Meadow is visible in the distance.