Ashton sat in the corner of the room, silently pitying himself, deeply absorbed in exploring the large amount of new space in his mouth that could no longer be probed without the use of his hands. The smell of burnt flesh permeated the air. Tears stained his face, or rather you could see where the tears had travelled because of the dirt and grime built up everywhere else. The pain in Ashton’s mouth and gut had kept him up form more than two days now, slowly ticking over to a third. A feeling of deep guilt was carved directly into his heart, Ashton himself unaware of why, but nevertheless it gradually chipped away at his sanity.

A small pile of human tongue’s lay in the middle of the room. Totalling five they had slowly withered over time, the blood that had leaked from them had already dried, cementing the muscles to the floor. Every now and again Ashton would look over to the pile before quickly looking away and trying to stop himself from vomiting. Ash would attempt to put in some positive words sometimes, but Ashton thoroughly ignored him, blaming him for the majority of the pain. After all, Ash stubbornly healed the wound five times before admitting defeat, all the while Ashton was desperately begging him to stop.

The daunting sound of the rock being moved echoed throughout the cell once again and Ashton cowered in the corner, making himself as small as possible. The usual ogre and his goblin sidekick strolled in through the ‘doorway’, thundering towards Ashton. The giant stepped directly into Ashton’s pile of tongues, not giving them any notice. Minutes passed and Ashton grew progressively more anxious in the silence before finally giving in and peeking over his shoulder. The ogre’s large, toothy grin met his eyes and Ashton scrambled further back into the corner of the cell in terror, once again trying to make himself look as small as possible.

“Cease your foolish resistance monster. Your training begins now. You will become strong or die. If you are not strong, we have no use of you. Now. Come or be punished,” growled the voice of the ogre directly into Ashton’s mind.

On the brink of tears, Ashton hesitantly stood up, his legs wobbling like a newborn calf. The ogre looked at him with eyes of disappointment. It then briskly walked off leaving behind Ashton and the smaller goblin. The goblin squealed at Ashton and beat him over the head and then proceeded to push him forward after the ogre.

After a short walk out of Ashton’s cell, up some stairs, out of a shabby wooden hut and down a dirt trail, the three arrived at a large open field. The field was covered with lush green grass, beautiful flowers and the freshly spilt blood of goblins. At the centre of the field was a large brown ogre carrying a hefty wooden club, or rather an uprooted tree with no leaves, roots or branches. The ogre in question was twice the size of the dark one next to Ashton and was merrily swinging its tree at a group of young goblins. The goblins relentlessly bolted towards the ogre with their small, rusty short swords, waving them wildly. But the ogre swung down its tree without holding back at the oncoming goblins sending them flying through the air. For most the long, soft grass had broken their fall, but a few unlucky ones died on impact, their blood coating the grass.

“Wow, they sure look battered, am I right?” Joked Ash, only to be met with silence.

An enormous force crashed into Ashton from behind and he was sent flying through the air, towards the ‘training’.

“Begin training. Now. I will return in one year to check on progress. Remember. Escape is impossible. Should you try… You will never want to again,” grumbled the ogre.

Just like that the ogre left, leaving behind Ashton, who was sitting dumbfounded on the grass. The small goblin which had always accompanied him remained behind with Ashton, its beady little eyes filled with a sense of burning curiosity. Ashton felt an uncomfortable prickling feeling all around his body and he looked around in panic, discovering that every goblin’s eyes were glued to him. The goblins started yelling and screaming about something, presumably him, to the goblin who was left behind by the gore. It then yelled something back in reply, shutting the rest of them up instantly. The goblin then picked up a whip which it had at its feet the entire time and cracked it threateningly.

“Oi, Ashton. However grim it may appear you need to participate, otherwise I have a feeling that the consequences would be much worse,” advised Ash.

Ash’s words were once again met with silence, as Ashton stubbornly ignored his advice. The massive ogre coldly stared him down, twirling its club provocatively. A few goblins took that opportunity to strike from behind, lashing out at its unguarded ankles. However just as they were about to make contact, the ogres club cam smashing down from above, completely pulverising the hopeful newbies. Ashton stared, his mouth wide open in shock.

“To think that it would do that to its own allies,” mumbled Ashton in disbelief.

“Oh? So you’re talking again?” Inquired Ash.

“Yes I can talk, but I have no wish to do so with you,” replied Ashton coldly, a tone which didn’t suit him at all and came across more stiff than anything else.

The goblin behind him cracked it’s whip down on Ashton’s back, as he groaned in pain another lashing met his back, before the ogre squawked something and pointed to the ogre.

“Come one, you need to do it, it’ll be harder to do it after some whipping anyways so just go,” urged Ashton.

Ashton looked back into the eyes of the goblin in fear. Ash was surprised to see a look of disappointment in its eyes, whilst Ashton seemed not to notice and was simply scared. He looked at the ogre who had returned to beating up the goblins and promised himself that he would survive this. Ashton then ran directly at the ogre with his bare hands, neglecting the short sword that the whip-goblin was about to hand to him. The ogre looked down at Ashton as if he were an annoying bug, slapping him away with his club, thus ending Ashton’s training for the day as he was knocked out unconscious from the impact of a dead goblin’s sword hitting him in the gut.

********

Meanwhile back at the goblin village, two ogres were discussing things with great interest.

“Are you sure that thing can survive Ogakin? Usually he’s only for the best of the best, at the very last stage of training. That monster may not last before it can be used to its full potential,” grumbled one ogre.

“Relax, you have not seen what it’s gone through. That thing lasted three times longer than any other prisoner in that cell, with just half the rations. It killed a promising goblin warrior in its starving condition and that’s without its tremendous healing ability. It recovered from a near death state in just one minute!” Bragged the second ogre.

“Yes, while that is true, just one hit from Ogakin could liquefy its brain, I think we should start it off at an easier training level,” replied the first ogre.

“Without any risk, there will be no reward. Was it not you who said that? Sure if the monster dies then it dies, but if it does not then we will be able to present her majesty with one of the finest warriors from these mountains,” boasted the second ogre.

“I can see where you are coming from, but my mind remains unchanged,” responded the first ogre.

“Do not fear, even without the monster we still have the ruthless one. That thing was just a bonus in the end,” reassured the second.

“Humph,” huffed the first. “We shall see.”