The Ruins of Fumar

As soon as the village of Fumar came in to view, Freya could tell that it was barely a village and more likely the ruins of a village. The majority of the houses had been burned and destroyed. A group of old men was trying to repair a few houses in the center of the village, but their weak bodies could barely lift the materials.

Freya followed behind Morris as he ordered the soldiers to help the old men. He himself called for the villagers to gather in the village center and began to distribute food and clothes. Freya also began to give out food and clothes.

She noticed that the majority of the people were old. Very few among them were young men, and even less young women. At first, the villager's eyes lit up at the sight of food, but soon enough their expression returned to that of distraught.

The villagers took their share of food and simply go back, without any hint of gratitude. In fact, of the few young men that were there, some had anger in their eyes when looking at them. Freya didn't understand why they were looking at her team and the soldiers with so much anger, after all, they were only trying to help.

"Do not misunderstand them, Freya." Morris answered her curiosity, "Of course, they are angry, with themselves and the world. They just lost their families and their loved ones, and they couldn't do anything. How would you feel?"

Freya immediately remembered the day she had lost her family. She had been angry at how weak she was that she couldn't even lift a finger against her attackers. Even more so, she was angry with the world, angry at how unfair it was. Remembering that time, she finally understood their feelings and did her best to be polite.

'Why are you so concerned with these weaklings?' Art asked with a hint of disgust. 'Instead of wasting your time with them, you should be practicing your sword.'

Freya, surprised with his words, spoke to her partner, 'Why are so cold? These people are suffering, at least show some respect for their pain,'

'Respect, huh?' Artium scoffed, 'I have no respect for these weaklings. In fact, I hate their kind. People that know they are weak and yet do nothing but curse the world for their misfortune.'

Freya ignored him and continued to serve food to the villagers. Art also refused to comment on anything else. After they were done distributing the food, Morris ordered a small group of soldiers to patrol the village border and another group to help with the reconstruction.

"Freya, follow me. We're going to meet the village elder." Morris called out to her, "The rest of you, keep an eye out for any disturbances and deal with them if any."

Morris followed a young man along with Freya to a small group of tents that had been put in place by the villagers for shelter. The fires caused by the orcs had completely demolished the structural integrity of most buildings. They had to start from scratch, building new foundations. It was a very difficult task without proper manpower, as such, no buildings had been fully constructed even a week after the attack.

The young man led the duo to a relatively large tent among the group of tents. While Freya had expected its size was due to it being the elder's tent, she was surprised to discover that it was a temporary infirmary.

Many wounded villagers lay on the beds in the temporary infirmary, groaning in pain. Some were missing limbs, while others had large gnashes across their bodies. A group of old women tended to the injured, trying their best to treat their wounds with little effect.

The man led them to a bed where a particularly injured man lay. He had lost a leg and even an eye was bandaged with scrap clothes. Among the soldiers that had accompanied them, there were also some combat medics that quickly went to treat the ones in mortal danger, as per Morris' orders.

"This is our village's elder, Old Balruf." The young man introduced before taking his leave.

"So you are the ones sent by the mayor." The elder spoke, "I am sorry that I was unable to welcome you properly due to my condition."

"You only need to focus on your recovery, elder." Morris respectfully replied, "I will assign a capable group of soldiers to guard the village and help in the reconstruction. Why don't you tell me about the attack? I never thought that those Orcs would attack such a small village, they would find no resources here."

"That's what I thought as well." Balruf replied, "But apparently I was wrong. The Captain in charge of our village's protection was a swordsman, whose name was somewhat known in the neighboring towns."

"In their last raid on a nearby town, the Orc leader heard his name from a soldier." The elder explained, "He came here to test the captain, but alas the captain was no match for him and died in a single blow."

"Unsatisfied and angered, the Orc massacred all the soldiers and young men and burned down the village. As punishment, they took the women and children as slaves." Tears began to fall from the single eye of the elder.

"Please, sir, I beg of you." He pleaded, "Bring back our families. Though I have nothing to offer you, I will pledge the rest of my useless life and that of my coming generations to your services."

The elder continued to cry as a somber mood fell in the tent. Morris took his pleading hands in his own before speaking, "On my name as Morris, I swear that I will bring back all the survivors and avenge the dead of your village. I will bring back the heads of the Orcs that did this to your village."

Morris confident voice and his strong figure, calmed the hearts of the villagers and filled it with hope. "Now please, if you know anything about their next target, let us know so that we find them sooner." His sturdy figure eased the fear of the villagers.

"I do not know of their next target, but I know there were headed southwest." The elder answered, "There is small town in that direction, about a day's ride from here, that is likely to be their next target."