Chapter 1

Dreams can affect us in many different ways. Dreams can take us to our personal havens or our greatest fantasy. Dreams can help us escape the mundane realities of what is around us. Sadly for me, my dreams come and go, but the nightmare always stays to haunt me. It has been haunting me for centuries. Even after living for so long, it comes to me like a specter in the night. As always, on cue, my brothers and I are in a dark cave surrounded by the skulls of children. My brothers and I walk deeper into the cave, and we see from afar a stone temple and the bodies of dead children around the altar. In the middle of the rock altar stands a horned, hooded figure.

The shadowy figure turns and pulls his hood back; his black spectral eyes pierce my soul. With rage in my veins and swords in my hands, charging the figure in the nightmare stops with the sound of a knock. The dream dissipates, my mind clears, and eyes begin to open. Struggling, I get off the bed to see who is at the door. As I open the door, the light of the hallway blinds my vision and a large green hand grabs my shoulder. My vision clears and I hear the voice a friend.

"Jesus Brom, you look like shit. Did you trip in the shower again? I swear you dwarfs need step stools to reach anything without falling on your ass," said Arnuk, chuckling at his assumption.

"Arnuk, don't worry, it was the Chinese food from last night that kept me up. It didn't settle well with my stomach. You know for an orc you sure do talk a lot in the morning. I thought your kind spoke in grunts and cow noises," I said with a devilish grin. I couldn't tell him about my nightmares, so I deflect and joke around. He is a dear friend of mine, but I just can't open up about my past. It will stay buried until it destroys me. Maybe I will let that wall down, but for now, my secret stays inside.

Arnuk looked liked he wanted to punch my face in after that comment, but he was different from other orcs. He just took a deep breath and smiled. He stepped into my room, trying not to hit his head on the edge of the door. It looked liked a weight lifter trying to fit in a clown car. It was always a funny sight to see in the morning at the Mercenary Palace.

I went across my room and headed for the bathroom. After a shower, the ringing in my head felt better and I felt much more rejuvenated for the day to come. Mornings are always the hardest but dwarfs have to suck it up and smile at the mirror like nothing is wrong. Right away, people notice my scars but not the scars in my mind. Those are the ones I can conceal well. I tug my hair into a samurai bun, struggle to put my gray shirt on, then with one leg before the other I manage to fit into my camo pants. Turning to the door, I walk out the bathroom and see Arnuk in one of my chairs, which is clearly too small for him, reading one of his books. This time it is his favorite "The Lord of the Rings."

"Arnuk, how many times have you read that? Isn't that your tenth time reading that book. I don't understand. You do know the orcs are the bad guys in the book right? Why can't you just watch the film? The movie is better than the book anyway," as I finished that sentence, I knew the mistake I made right then and there. Arnuk stood up to his full eight-foot height. His long black hair and brown duster made him look like a pissed off cowboy. His brown eyes turned red with rage. I forgot how much he loved books.

He stomped forward with his steel toed boot and shoved the book in my face.

"Brom, this book is a classic, and I will read it as many times as I want. Yes, they give a wrong description of orcs, but it is the story that grabs me. Yes, the movie is fantastic, but it will never hold up to this book and my imagination. Of course, you will be like everyone else and say the movie is better. This is why I'm not a fan of people and stay in my gunsmith lab. Maybe once in a while don't follow the sheep and pick up a damn book!" said Arnuk.

To be continued...