It was night time, and the stars shone brightly. The world slowly returned to its normal shape again, as the haze of the shamans sorcery vaporized. I was sitting in my familiar dog cage again. I heard Frericks voice "What did they do to you? You look rather pale.." I shook my head "I have no idea man, the old goon was messing with my head." I soon fell asleep, and awoke a day later.
About three or four days past without a lot of events. Frerick and I got minimum amount of food and water, and the sun was burning our skins. We were becoming very weak. They were busy rebuilding the pit into a safer haven for spectators. Often the ox clan had visitors of other clans to look at the progress. We were ignored by pretty much everyone, which suited me fine.
One night Frerick woke me up "Dael.. Daellas. Wake up! Look..". I looked at the direction where Frerick was pointing. A group of half-orcs and Uruks dragging forth vicious wargs on chain collars. They bear the white hand. They made their way to the pit. I sighed deeply and lay my head down to watch the stars "It was good to have known you, Frerick...".
