“Mummy, tell the story again please!” Squealed a small boy from under his down blankets.

“Yes again, please mummy!” Squealed an equally small and similar looking girl in the bed next to him.

“Alright, alright relent, you’ve won. I’ll tell you the story one more time, but is the last for tonight.” She said light-heartedly.

“Let me tell you the story of the Orcs of Belador.” She said as the candlelight of the room lit her face in a spooky fashion.

She grabbed a small candle from the bedside table between the twins before continuing.

“In the lands of Belador lived an old king. His name is lost to the sands of time but his deeds still live on.”

“This king ruled over the plains of Belador, home to vast seas of wild grasses, beasts the likes of which fill the dreams of men and finally, the orcs.” She said animatedly causing the small children to flinch and her to chuckle. She brushed a lock of curly brown hair behind her ear before she continued.

“The orcs had been living in Belador since time began and since the first men moved into the plains there has been conflict. Now, the old king, was a bitter man, he was angry at the orcs as they had killed his two sons in an ambush so he swore.”

“He swore to the heavens that he would once and for all rid his kingdom of the Orcish scourge. So the old king in all his wisdom raised his banners, and called all men brave enough to join him in what would later be known as ‘The Harrowing of the Plains’ the king sent his men deep into the wilds, and hunted the orcs, fought them until they were backed against the great river Haskaroth.”

“But the king did not stop there, he wanted to finish the orcs, so the king took his best men, his bravest knights and his truest shots and rode out. But what the king did not take into account was this, a cornered beast is dangerous, for a cornered beast would fight for all that it was worth. And fight they did.”

“On that day, from the Orcish ranks a truly evil being came to be, The Bone Crusher, The Devourer, The Blight Borne. Thuul Doom.” She said in a breathy voice as her children cowered further into their blankets.

“And when the king came, Thuul Doom and his army destroyed him, wiping out all semblance of human presence in the plains. But Thuul Doom did not stop there, oh no.”

“Thuul Doom and his hordes spread across the continent like a plague devouring anything in their wake.”

“But all was not lost you see.” She said as she brought the candle out in front of her face. “Because we still had a flicker of hope.”

“Hope in the form of heroes, like Carlotta True Shot, Harad the Huntsman ad the Great Belan Brightfire who on this very spot slew the great Thuul Doom and sent his hordes scurrying into the plains.”

“Never to return.” The small boy finished triumphantly, happy to have stolen the ending off his mother.

“Or so you think.” She said. “For at this very moment the orcs still hide in their plains, dreaming of times long past. They sharpen their weapons and prepare.”

“Prepare for what?” Said the small girl who was visibly terrified.

“Preparing to eat small children who won’t let their mother sleep.” She said as she assaulted them with a barrage of cuddles.

She held them until they fell asleep and then tiptoed back toward her bed, falling asleep.

Little did she know that far to the north east a certain party of orcs marched toward her village, ready to prove her statement true.