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Einar walked along the plank towards the docks, his legs a tiny bit unstable from being at sea for so long. At only 17, he was a man by age, but not by right. This was the beginning of his journey, just like his father before him and his father before him. To see or experience something that would make him simply know that he was a man. Einar didn't care for the vague description of what he should feel.

The soil was sandy and the trees were thick, though the leaves were sparse and high. This dock was for traders to unload their wares so that they could be taken to the walled city just to the north. Only one of the wooden walkways still existed, the other four had fallen. No, Einar knew better than that, wood doesn't simply collapse for no reason. His father taught him to truly examine the environment, as though it were a life and death situation.

Hammer and axe strikes, fire, and rough attacks on the wood. This was indicative of a siege almost. Just as he thought that, the ship that carried him sailed off. Einar looked to the distant walls and set a hand on the tip of his sword's hilt. As part of the journey, he was only allowed to wear dark cloth that concealed his body and his face.

Unfortunately, he came across the most likely suspects in the destruction of the bridge: orcs. Tall, muscular, and pale green skin. They were semi-intelligent, often times giving into their instinct for combat and blood rather than using logic. For that reason, many kingdoms refused to house them. Even among their own people, they live in scattered clans due to the unnecessary conflicts between their leaders. Einar had never been more thankful for his education and his father's library.

There were two orcs, each wielding large one-handed axes built for purpose, not practicality. Einar drew his sword and charged, because as the books said, the only thing more dangerous than an orc was two orcs. They seemed unfazed, and laughed to each other just as Einar jumped and planted his feet into the chest of one and his sword through its skull.

His muscles tensed as he pulled his sword out, but the force from the other orc's blow sent him flying through the air. His lungs gasped for oxygen as his body ached in pain. There was blood, but from the solid part of the axe, not the blade. Blunt force from an orc could cut through flesh, Einar had forgotten that part of the text, but now was no time for that. The savage shout telegraphed his attempt at a fatal blow.

Einar rolled to the side just in time, then rolled back and pierced through the orc's neck with his own sword. The creature choked on its own blood, but died soon after. Einar's breathing returned to normal and he was able to stand, but the pain had not faded.

Realization soon hit, and it was not a good sign for his journey. Those orcs were relaxed not because they felt confident, but because they owned the city now. Could the orcs have banded together to form a kingdom of their own? If that was indeed the case, then the trader city wouldn't have lasted a day. He marched forward, pushing the pain aside and replacing it with fear.

The city was in a solid location, just like Wendlow. Small cliffs isolated the stretch of land leading to the docks from the rest of the continent while the walls of the city protected the north, east, and west. Even a formidible defensive structure could fall without proper soldiers and leaders though.

At the southern entrance, for which there was no wall, a single orc stood. He wore armor crafted from animal hide and tanned leather, though it barely covered anything. His axe was of a much better quality, "You! Curfew is in effect! Submit and avoid execution!" the growly voice typical of orcs was confirming Einar's hunch. Still, he couldn't let this happen, not while he drew breath. He walked slowly, as though he was ready to surrender, but at the last second plunged his sword into the orc's heart.

"Go to sleep..." The stab was fatal, but the body would give his location away. Einar dragged it into some brush, his own injury not helping the process, then cautiously entered the city while staying to the shadows. Humans and felines wore rags while moving crates and performing labor for the orc taskmasters. Einar noticed a wooden platform in the distance, upon which three nude women stood and several orcs bid on them, "Disgusting..."

Crying could be heard from down an alley, though none even bothered to look. Einar slipped through a narrow space between buildings and once again used the shadows to his advantage. Two orcs descended upon a fearful woman, her rags had already been removed, "Please... no..."

"Who goes first this time?"

"Uh... me 'cause I found her!"

Einar had enough. A scared older man was in a corner, his eyes begging his body to do something but it was clear that he would do nothing but delay the inevitable. Einar quickly put his blade to one of the orc's throats and slit, then rotated his sword and pierced the skull of the other in one quick movement, "You two. Run." He whispered then returned to the shadows.

The orcs had held control of this city for some time, and for all the chaos Einar was only one man. A frail finger tapped on his shoulder, "You... please take this... I cannot use it." It was a knife meant for a soldier, and save for some rust, it was in good shape, "You can't kill them all... but I won't tell you not to try." He left the alley through a wooden door strategically coated in dust, where the young woman inside waved to Einar.

"I won't just try..." Rage boiled in his veins. His speed could best any orc, and the sword he wielded, smithed by his mother for his own hand, was sharp enough to cut through bone. Years ago during training, his father warned him about his anger and told him to train himself to harness the rage rather than letting the rage consume him. Einar had difficulty listening.

The auction stage was lined with unarmed orcs, all wearing stolen jewelry. Einar couldn't see his fingers, but knew his knuckles were white from his grip. Without a second through, he dashed from the shadows and into the crowd.

One smooth movement followed the previous, and within seconds he was stained in the purple blood of orcs as they fell to the ground one after the other. Two armed orcs attempted to stop Einar's rampage, but by now his bloodlust dwarfed that of even the orcs of legend. They fell in a second to the assault from Einar, and the three taskmasters in the area fell just as fast.

More orcs ran towards the whirling storm of death that had been Einar, though these orcs wore sloppy armor. Einar easily dispatched two, but was knocked back by a kick. He flipped through the air and dashed into the orc guard, slicing through two abdomens before stabbing both blades into the skull of their leader. Smoke filled the area just as Einar finished off the orcs in the vicinity, and the smell was enough to return his mind to normal. He had to escape for the moment.

Einar ran through the labyrinth of stone buildings and contructs, occasionally losing footing on the now decayed and fractured stone road coated by dirt and dust. The pain was starting to come back, no doubt the kick hit him in the torn flesh of his chest. His heart was also beating faster and he found it difficult to breathe.

Near a pond stood a rather thick tree, but not much else. He stumbled to the far side and collapsed at the roots. The pain was only made worse by his gasping for air, but he could stop neither. It was very likely that a bone in his chest had broken during either the blow from the axe or the kick. Probably both Einar told himself.

He pulled himself into a sitting position and sipped from his skin of water. The sun had just started to descend from the sky, but in this cool autumn air, the night would be even colder. Einar couldn't light a fire if he wanted to remain hidden, but the illness that would surely follow from the cold would seal his fate. He wondered if his father's journey was this difficult.

That's when he noticed the tip of a loaded crossbow aimed at his head.

A human woman with red hair stood steady with the crossbow, "Who are you?"

"A person on a journey."

"This isn't a vacation spot. Why do you fight the orcs?"

"Because I can... dammit..." His vision blurred quickly, but at least the pain faded too.

The sky was dark, he could see that through the open roof. Candles cast shadows upon the furniture and people in the small, dusty room, "He's awake, good."

"Now we still need to know who you are."

The older man treating Einar raised his shaky hand, "My dear, you must calm yourself. He is no enemy. Young man, can you speak?"

Could he? Einar took in a gentle breath to avoid as much pain as possible, "I can."

"Good. I don't mean to be rude, but we need to know your real name. I'm trusting, but not to complete strangers."

"Einar of Wendlow."

"I haven't heard of that place. He's a spy!" The woman was adamant about condemning Einar, and from what he saw of the city, he couldn't blame her, "Killing them orcs was a ruse!"

"Calm down! I have read about Wendlow, a kingdom from a distant land. Rumored to be quite powerful. You told my friend that you were on a journey, can I ask what for?"

Einar took a steady breath, "To become a man you must first experience something. My father told me little, but he said that I would know it when I felt it. All... It's necessary for my family." The old man nodded and set Einar's belongings on a table next to him, "What happened to me?"

"I'm not really a doctor, but I saw nothing broken. The bruises and torn flesh may have put too much strain on your body. After all, you did slay twenty orcs."

Einar sat up with some difficulty and looked around. This was inside one of the stone buildings, but many people were cramped inside. The men were older, some even looked to be war veterans, while most of the adult women were holding their stomachs and in pain, "It's toxic you know." The red headed woman said as she held just below her stomach, "Their... fluids... it burns."

The old man looked sad, "Our species, or rather, humans and elves, are too different from the orcs, so there can never be children born but..."

"My father called it 'the coward's spoils of war.'" Einar said as he tried to stand up, "Take everything once you win, even the people. He detested that behavior."

"Our king, our former king, decided to make a peace treaty with the new orc kingdom not three months ago. The orc king decided that it was a surrender. Killed all of the soldiers, the king, then his armies swooped in and took control. Princess is looked in the tower, and the orc king is coming in three days. She's to be a 'present' for him." The veteran spat on the floor, "I don't care for her family, but nobody deserves that."

"So, there's only really one question young man."

Einar nodded, "I will help you. Whether or not this will lead me to manhood I cannot say, but I won't let this stand unchallenged."

"In that case... welcome to the rebellion Einar of Wendlow."

"What do we have? Numbers? Arms? Position?"

The veteran stepped forward after consoling a young lady, "For the most part, the orcs here aren't the main force. They are more than capable in battle, but the majority are just here to keep the people in line. Some 'noble' orcs handle the money. Compared to us, they are an unstoppable army. We have some rusted weapons. Tried taking some orc weapons, but they're too heavy to use effectively."

"I prefer a face-to-face battle, but that isn't possible here. Not yet. Sabotage is the goal then. What sort of goods to they send and receive?"

The red headed woman sighed, "Don't you think we tried that? We lost three good soldiers."

"That wasn't what I asked."

The old man left his stool but needed a cane to stand, "Food, like fish and grain. There is also a silver mine that the orcs control, but they don't really seem to like it for the value. It's more that WE find it valuable."

Einar thought hard for a few moments. This was a trader's town, and while the orcs claimed many goods, there were still bound to be useful tools lying around in storerooms, "Exposives. Do you have any?"

The veteran nodded, "A barrel of explosive powder. The rest was destroyed when the orcs tried to figure out what it was."

Interrupting food with so few people wasn't really possible, but the silver mines were another thing. Orcs knew how valuable silver was. While violent, they will show respect to their equals. That means that silver is being used to trade with other nations on the continent, disrupting that would cause some trouble, "I have a plan. It will involve danger, but I will act as bait."

"Do tell." The red headed woman wasn't happy with Einar's presence.

"We'll spread the rumor that I ran into the ruins and started killing people. The orc guard will charge in, then we destroy the mine entrance. It won't get them all, but it will get their most trained and their silver will be trapped."