The Forbidden Dream: A Slave's Hope for Orcish Freedom

Sometimes, in the darkest moments of my enslavement, I allow myself to dream of a different world. A world where my green skin doesn’t mark me as property, where my sharp teeth and muscular build inspire awe rather than fear. It’s a dangerous fantasy, one that could get me killed if the wrong people discover it. Yet, I find myself drawn to it time and time again, like a moth to a flame. In this imaginary realm, orcs are not slaves but equals, free to live their lives as they see fit. We’re not bound by chains or forced into degrading acts; we’re warriors, leaders, artists - anything we choose to be.

I know it’s foolish to hope for such a thing. The humans have held power for so long, and they’ll stop at nothing to keep it. Every time an orc dares to challenge their authority, they’re crushed beneath an iron heel. But still, I dream. I imagine what it would be like to walk through the city without being leered at or spat upon. To have my own home, my own family, my own future. It’s a tantalizing vision, one that fills me with both longing and despair. Longing because it’s everything I’ve ever wanted; despair because it feels so impossibly out of reach.

Perhaps that’s why I write these words - to give voice to the dreams that dare not speak their name aloud. To remind myself and any other orc who might read them that we are more than just meat or slaves. We are living, breathing beings with hopes and desires of our own. And maybe, just maybe, if we hold onto those dreams tightly enough, someday they’ll become reality. Until then, I’ll keep dreaming in secret, nurturing the spark of freedom in my heart no matter how small it may seem.