“The orcs threw them into a pit. There was no food and little water. Three days of starving they threw in half a pig. The prisoners greedily devoured it, raw, too hungry for anything else. It was not nearly enough for the number of prisoners present, and the weaker ones were unable to get any.
Three days after that another load of meat was dropped in. The survivors were so hungry and the body so mangled that it was some time into the feast that they realized that their meal had once been human. It gave them only a temporary pause, before they resumed.
Three days later, the much anticipated food day did not come. The prisoners yelled at their captors, who responded with cruel chuckles. The day after the orc that brought the meat came again, but this time he did not bring meat in his sack. He dropped in a few rusty, dented knives and clubs.
There would be no more food shipments. The prisoners understood. It should have been obvious from the way the orcs avidly watched the violence of other feedings. They wanted blood.
It was not long before one remained, but his human self had died before that day. He was taken out of the pit to meet his new brothers to feast and drink in cannibalistic delight.”
Eating a man causes a transformation. It hardens the heart, so that you feel no remorse. It makes you stronger than a normal man. It sharpens your senses, so that you can hunt better at night. And it gives you the taste, a need, for more.
Every spring, more orcs appear. In twos and threes, and whole villages. They are not dumb savages. They are your neighbors, after a tough winter, or if the crop fails. It doesn’t take much to make it a tempting choice.