Sunday
Dear Diary,
When I awaken, the hut is toasty warm. Dare and I get ready, a process that includes munching on some elf wafers. Supposedly these are good for you, but in my opinion they’re like eating charcoal.
Dare and I step out of the hut in our battle leathers and respective cloaks. An odd sight greets us.
Hundreds of Articae orcs.
What’s odd is how perfectly quiet they are. I always think about orcs as grunting while dragging their knuckles around. But these folks are still and silent. A chilly breeze rustles their stringy hair. All wear dark metal armor. Their tall spears glimmer in the early morning sun in a way that reminds me of so many spikes of ice.
Dare frowns, but there’s no anger in the expression. “I thought you would guide us, Ilk.”
“It’s been some time since yo
