“May I join you,” Igan requested as he approached Aeron in his sequestered corner of the great hall, although many of the villagers had retired, there were still substantial clusters around both Tarl and Galen, almost exclusively consisting of young women, while a half dozen young men occupied Nykira, passing her from one to another, dancing to the lively music provided by mistrals. “Of course my lord,” the young ranger replied humbly, motioning invitingly to the empty chair beside him. “You know how orcs fight… how they think,” the lord-protector began, recognizing a kindred spirit in the young adventurer. “Warbands of a score or so have harassed us for months, sweeping down from the Hills to kill or capture anyone they find in the fields and throwing themselves recklessly against our defenses, but never at the same point twice… which tells me that these assaults are a coordinated effort to find our weaknesses. Until now we’ve been able to repel them, but Pavel’s pointless confrontations with them have depleted our ranks. We’ve barely enough men left to offer minimal resistance if a serious attack comes, and I fear it will… soon!” “You’re right… they’re testing you to find the soft spots to target in a large-scale assault… as well as bloodying their young tuskers. When they come in earnest it will be with a few hundred orcs… enough to overwhelm you with sheer numbers. That’s the way they think… they don’t care if they take losses, so long as they win the battle,” the stoic young ranger offered with a bitter tone in his voice, then explained; “Orcs murdered my family…but I hunted them down and put them to the sword. They’re the scourge of the North… and Many Arrows is massing a great horde somewhere in the Spine of the World intending to concur the Marches.” “I don’t understand what their interest is with us,” Igan mused thoughtfully. “We can’t be significant to such a scheme.” “You have something they want… food!” Aeron stated coldly. “Winter is coming… you have stores of harvested grains and fattened live-stock. Orcs don’t sow fields… they survive by hunting… and taking what they want from whoever has it!” “So it inevitable. There’s nothing we can do to deter their attack. They’ll just keep coming until they take Winter Edge.” the lord-protector conceded. “All you can do is make it so costly to them in number of losses that its not worth taking the settlement,” Aeron advised, but added dishearten; “However, it doesn’t look like you have sufficient men to inflict those kinds of losses on them in conventional warfare…. you’re going to have to get creative.” “Will you inspect our defenses?” Igan requested. “As outsiders you may see weakness we overlook.” “Tarl has his race’s knack for stonework, Galen is a student of history, amongst other things, and Nykira looks at the world with a rogue’s eye,” Aeron observed. “Each of us can offer our unique critiques.”