In a quiet village safe from harm,
An ork was born upon a farm.
With his brothers he tended the fields
And gathered bountiful harvest yields.
Working with plow, horse, and cart,
He did not know his warrior's heart.

One day came the end of peace's reign,
When Lord Karnos' messenger came from Vivane.
An extravagant price in gold must be paid,
Or he would see the entire village enslaved.
The village's reply was in blood and steel,
To no Theran Lord would these people yield.

Fighting hard amid the others,
Side by side were the ork brothers
Until Vance was at last laid low
By a sword's numbing blow.
For although he tried to do his part,
He did not yet hear his warrior's heart.

They knew the Lord would return to fight
So the villlagers decided to flee that night
The blow which hit Vance's head,
Left him sleeping and bleeding, not dead.
So those who fled carried him away
While his brothers chose to stay.

His brother's fought with strength and will
And many men they managed to kill.
They bought the time their people sought
To flee the terror Karnos's greed wrought.
They fell beneath sword and magical darts
Each of them honoring the warrior's heart.

For days the people fled this Lord,
Until, at last, at a stream's ford,
Other travelers they happened to find:
Adepts both battle-hardened and kind.
Windy vowed they would not be slaves,
Her party would fight, these people to save.

Upon a hill they could defend,
The villagers began to eat, drink, and mend
But Vance alone could not rest,
Eager to take the battlefield's test,
For these events like a dart
Had pierced and stirred his warrior's heart.

Argen, a warrior of great skill,
Tried to teach Vance how to kill.
Practice blades they did not find,
For Argen spoke of soul and mind.
For the greatest weapon is not a blade,
but the bone from which a warrior is made.

At that is how it came to pass
that on the battlefield at last,
Lord Karnos for his arrogance paid,
dying beneath Vance's blade.
In that moment a new life did start,
as Vance understood his warrior's heart