As he sat in his dingy cell, Tehnerick silently cursed the orcs that had captured him. He could hear the heavy, snorting breath of the Orc guarding his cell. He shook his fist, and the shackles holding it, rattled. It was hopeless, these orcs literally ruled the land west of king Bernard's domain, and even if he had escaped, he would have been caught, as the folk that lived nearby feared the orcs, and they would contact them as soon as he set foot in their village.
He would soon starve, as he was fed on mouldy crusts of black bread, and stagnant water, that he refused to eat. Many had been condemned to the same fate as his, and most of the people who had been with him had died in the first week of confinement, grieving their friends and family, who were lost or killed.
Outside, he could hear someone screaming as they were beaten by Anogrong, the chief torturer. The unfortunate man was probably one of the kings messengers, as they were the only ones beaten, for information about the kings whereabouts. He could imagine it now, The screaming man, strapped tightly to the post, crying out in pain as Anogrong delivered many stroke to his body with the knobbled wooden stick known as 'torturer' to the prisoners, and a few of the orcs.
The man would be covered in bruises, when the orcs had finished with him. The screaming subsided, the man must have been knocked unconscious or he had been released and taken back to his cell.
Tehnerick wished he could escape, back to his family, and be free once again...