“Look! It's moving. It's alive. It's alive... It's alive, it's moving, it's alive, it's alive, IT'S ALIVE!”
Doctor Phil* #quote
Today I am downloading Windows 10(though it seems like it may take overnight). I think it will be a wonderful escape from the atrocity that is Windows 8. Anyway onto the flash fiction!
The Ogre Baker
Oer the Ogre smashed the dough with his hands. Ogres lived as mercenaries. A tribal people who decided it'd be better to not fight among themselves but rather just fight other people's wars for the profit. Peace time didn't sit well with them though. They needed the humans to fight so they could find good work. Or elves. Or dragons. Or faeries. Really anyone who could hire them. But downtime left Oer and his kin kneading dough if they didn't get enough money to live through the peacetime. To Ogres peace worked like winter to a farmer and their crops. Oer didn't manage to get many kills in the last war so he took up a bakers job to make ends meet.
This made him a laughing stock among his people.
But he pounded and pounded to get the wages he needed and began to learn from the people in the merchant town he chose to live in. Most Ogres spent their peacetime eating and drinking but Oer was forced to learn more than just the language he needed to be hired by other countries to work for his country.
In the end he spoke to many townspeople and learned about the world in more detail. When another war began he chose not to join his tribe. He grew fond of his life of baking and also by speaking to the people who passed through town he knew that the side his tribe was being employed by had no chance of winning. His tribe wouldn't listen to “the weakling baker”. Oer didn't hear from his tribe again. He eventually ran across another Ogre who worked during peacetime, and together they worked to become literate and began a family. From there began the first tribe of civil Ogres.