I chug down my third mug of ale and tear off a piece of mutton with my teeth. Emfrid stood behind the bar and watched me, eyes wide. I had been staying at The Gray Mare in Chorrol for the past month. Emfrid was the owner of The Gray Mare. When I had first came here, she was scared of me. She tried to hide it since I was a paying customer, but I could still see terror in her eyes. Even now there is still a glint of fear in her eyes whenever she looks at me. I don't blame her. Even though Orcs were technically under the sovereignty of the Empire, not everyone accepted us. Some people still think that we're blood thirsty killers, and un-trust worthy. I suppose in a way, their right. We are warriors. And fierce ones at that. But Orcs have codes to go by, just as other races. Until a few months ago, I thought that our codes were ones of honor, and I had followed them proudly.

That was a "few months ago" me. The "now" me doesn't know what to think of the codes anymore.

The "few months ago" me, had believed any other way then the Orc code was incorrect. She had believed that if you were not an Orc, then you were pathetic weaklings. She thought that blood was supposed to be thicker than water.

A "few months ago" me was very
                      naive.

Now, I don't know what to think. I had broken codes I swore to follow. I don't know how I should feel. I've lived by the codes so long, I don't know what to believe anymore. I rip into my mutton like a wolf tearing apart a fresh kill. Wolves. I think with disgust. I don't like wolves. As I ate, I noticed a man at a table by himself. He was clutching his head and muttering. He then got up and paced around for a bit before sitting back down and getting up again. He's been doing this for quite awhile now. From what I've heard his farm was being attacked by creatures and his sons planned to take matters into their own hands. Apparently his sons expected him to go with them to fight the monsters, but he was worried that in his old age, he wouldn't be much help. I don't understand what he was so worried about though. From the calluses on his hands, I assume he was a warrior. The calluses were from holding a sword. All good warriors had them, including me. Nearly all the old Orcs back where I came from were seasoned warriors and always ready for a fight. It was an honor to die while fighting. At least that's what Orcs thought.

But humans (or Mortals or whatever you call them) were not Orcs. They didn't share the same beliefs or codes. They had different religions and honors. Humans still confused me more then any other race in the entire realm. Sure, elves and all the other races confused me, but humans seemed to make up there own codes and rules as they go along. At least all the other races had some kind of code. But humans? No. They did their own thing. I shifted in my seat and felt the weight of my Steel Warhammer on my back. It was my favorite weapon and one of the only things I kept with me when I left home. I was wearing A fur cuirass, gauntlets and greaves. Under these I had on tan linens, a brown shirt, and thick cowhide shoes. Most of my clothes were made of fur. The fur didn't come from one specific animal, but many so the entire outfit looked somewhat patch work. I liked it though. Fur was kinda my thing.

After I finished with my meal I got up and felt something drop out of my bag. Curious, I bent down and picked it up. It was a small mirror. I had forgot that this was already in my bag when I was packing. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I had light green skin, yellow eyes, tusks growing out of my mouth, and yellow brownish hair held back in two Orc style ponytails. In an Orc's point of view I was attractive. I had a strong build and powerful arms. But in any other race's eyes, I'm sure I looked terrifying. As I looked at the mirror, a memory began itching my head. The memory of this mirror. I hated this mirror. No. I hated the person who gave me this mirror.

My life has been a lie. I had thought that no matter what, my family would always be there for me. I was wrong. I couldn't go back to my family. I could never return home now. I was a disgrace. An outcast. With only my name left. All because of the codes. Staring into the mirror, I saw my life flash before my eyes.

       Blood was thicker than water.

        At least it's supposed to be. . .

Thicker than water huh?

Ha.

                        What a joke.