Takarn woke once more in an unfamiliar place, his arms were shackled to his feet which were also bound in iron manacles. He looked around, he appeared to be in a tent, the walls were made of faded leather and were held aloft by a central wooden pole onto which he was bound.

Shit, he thought as he looked around the room, how the fuck do I keep getting myself captured?

There was no use whining about it now anyway, Takarn recalled his last few moments of consciousness, of the arena, the fire, and the invading rebels. At least he assumed they were rebels as they were dressed in a varied collection of mismatched armour and weapons. Takarn believed they were the ones who had kidnapped him as his current station looked nothing like the kingdom's holding cells.

Still, what to do? He already knew that he was not going to stay locked up, but what would he do after that, assuming he did manage to break out, he thought as he stared grimly at the thickly made iron manacles.

Of course, he could always run off on his own and strike out for himself, but he knew not where he was, he could be in the middle of a desert for all he knew.

He could always break free and then parlay democratically with the humans. Ha! He entertained the foolish idea for a second before dismissing it. Parlaying with a human?! The idea was laughable.

Still, the problem of his location vexed him, what to do, what to do, he thought. Then a veritable lightbulb appeared over his head. The smelly humans know where we are, they have to, they were the ones who set camp here. He would kidnap one and force them to talk. He smiled viciously as he imagined how he would accomplish that feat.

Two questions remained though. How would he break free of the shackles, and what would he do when he was free.

This caused Takarn to think truly about his goals, sure it was all well and good to promise to yourself and the universe that you would burn it down and rule over the ashes. But following a nebulous far-off goal causes one to lose sight of the present, makes them weak and un-alert. Gets them killed, or worse, captured. Takarn shuddered as he remembered his brief stay in captivity, he would never be captured again, he was not the naive orc he was before.

Goals needed to be set, short-term goals, things to work toward. An obvious first voice was to break the fuck out of these chains, he sat pondering his life voices for a few more moments before deciding upon a game plan.

1. Break the fuck out of here and capture a random person to torture and learn information from.

2. Get rich quick through banditry, and gain a band of warriors. No one man can stand against the world forever.

3. Get both money and fame in copious quantities.

4. Many drow bitches, many, many drow bitches.

He smiled to himself as he finished, finally, he had something to work toward, a goal, a challenge to overcome. No longer was he a mindless follower wandering from battle to battle, now he was an orc on a mission.

And now to tick the first item of the list. Takarn was pondering on how to break free of his chains when he heard the distinct plodding of armoured feet approaching him, it was now or never.

He drew on the fire once more, feeling it flow from his innards along his arms and into his hands, but now instead of forcing it out, he used it to heat the metal on his hands and feet, melting the iron and freeing himself not a second too late for as soon as the iron dropped to the floor to bearded humans in chainmail hauberks arrived.

"The fuck!" The larger of the two men cried as he saw Takarn's unbound frame and moved to fumble with the hilt of his sword. The other sucked in a breath, preparation to yell the alarm, Takarn made sure it was the last breath he ever took.

He lunged forward with one foot, tackling the yelling one to the ground, knocking the wind out of him, then before his partner had any time to react Takarn grabbed him by the ankle and pulled him to the ground also. What followed were a quick series of vicious punches to the throat and then an orc, dressed in rags snuck out of the tent and into the rest of the camp.

Takarn's luck held as he examined his new station, not only was he currently located in a temperate pine tree forest, but he was also on the edge of the camp. Still, though Takarn now faced a new problem, he couldn't let these human live. If he did, Takarn was almost sure that they would tell someone of him and his daring escape, so how was one orc supposed to kill an entire camp of humans bar one. The answer was as simple as the problem, he would use tactics he had learned as a hunter, he would smoke them out.

See, the funny thing was that all animals regardless of species are indoctrinated to fear fire, they can't help it, when they see it some primal instinct tell them that it is dangerous and to run, Takarn would use this against them.

Takarn gathered his fire and then let rip, breathing a pillar of scorching flame onto one end of the camp, before sneaking round to the other side, and just as suspected the humans began to arrive.

The first was a young girl of about 16, she had long blonde curls that cascaded down her back and was covering her shapely figure in tight leather armour.

Takarn caught her before she could alert anyone else, holding one hand tightly over her throat until she fell into unconsciousness. He then proceeded to breathe even more fire onto those that tried to flee the blazing camp, the look on their faces was delicious.

It was during this that Takarn learned something important, for as he stared at the charred and screaming bodies of a mother and her two children he came to the realization that although a goal was well and good, one had to enjoy the little things in life.

Yes, he thought as he charred the bodies of two children trying to flee the burning ruin, must enjoy the little things.