“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.
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