The vultures screamed from above, they see food; an almost out-dried orc wandered the deserts. His feet sank into the warm sand as he walked, and the sun boiled his blood as he thought of it. Once more the vultures screamed at him, this time he threw his eyes at the vultures, slicing right through their eyes. When he looked down at the sand again, the vultures flew away in fear. The orc fell to his knees and the desert showed no mercy, he looked up and the moment he spotted the sun he fainted and his face soaked into the sand, like water soaked his dreams.
His eyes blinked open, the sun wasn't there, he grabbed for the sand with his hands, and the sand wasn't there either, instead he felt cold gravel, and the sky was blocked by planks. He was saved, or was he a prisoner? At least, he's not dead and that's what matters. His eyes observed the room quickly, looking for possible exits, and then he noticed the obvious door in front of his feet. Someone knocked on the door, or something, the