Dreams - short story

[Kretol]

((This is a short story-type thing I wrote up while I was away. Comments are welcome, but this is my first attempt at any type of story, so... be lenient! Also, keep in mind that I had no idea the honor system was going in so soon))

[i]The young orc warlock hesitated. Within the sacrificial circle before him was one of his own people… a grunt of the Horde. The grunt was many years his elder, for the warlock was but fifteen years, barely of age to be practicing such an art. The orcish warrior currently lay comatose, his breathing ragged, his body adorned with gashes and other various wounds. He had barely beaten a demon the young warlock’s master had summoned… a test, they said it was. He should have been congratulated, hailed as a champion. Instead… he was to be a sacrifice for the Burning Legion.

“Harden your heart, young acolyte. None of the other apprentices have been so… difficult to persuade. This is but a single worm that deserves nothing more than to die for the Legion.â€Â

[Sreng]

(bows to Kretol)

De tribe be very lucky to have such a wise head among our Farseers, Kretol. I didn't know of yer past, but knowin' yer present I can scarcely hold it against ya. Tanks for sharin', mon.