TRA: Brothers Of The Scar

Chapter 3: Shadow World and the War on Tribes

Grall

Grall watched his brothers back as he walked slowly behind Grodak, his thoughts Wondering to the last thing he said before they began this journey. "We are going to the scar and going to unite the tribes and take back Whitewater, for Tyril." The last part was but a whisper, not meant for Gralls ears.

Unite the tribes? Grall scowled to himself. If it was that simple, I would've done so when I was still chieftain.

Grodak had insisted that they walk through the night in order to reach the scar in before his troops, troops he had sent for in order to help Whitewater, reached the borders of the scar. As they walked, they noticed a fire in the distance, loud voices coming towards them from the camp site.

"Looks like we found your troops, Grodak." Grall said emotionless, he wasn't looking forward to seeing any other orc besides his brother. Grall knew they would try to kill him on sight. Grall did not fear death, knowing that his death is impossible, but instead, feared that he would have to spend time in the Shadow World for his body to recover.

"Yes," Grodak said with a slight sigh, "it appears so. Come little brother, let's greet our troops and have them escort us back to the scar."

Grall wanted to scoff at him, these orcs would rather die a dishonorable death then to ever be called his troops. They approached the camp, Grall hanging further back to give Grodak time to explain to these men why he was there.

"Who goes there?" An orc shouted, the heavy orcish accent sending chills down Gralls spine. Memories of home, his time growing up in the scar, came to mind. How long has he yearned to return, and now that he is, he feels nothing but fear as to what the people may do to him.

"Lower your weapons," Grodak said with a commanding voice, "it is I, Grodak, and my brother, Grall who approaches your camp."

Murmurs could be heard among the troops. "Step forward into the light and let us see if you are who you say you are."

Grodak strolled forward into the light, Grall followed behind him with his hand on his sword hilt. A big burley orc stepped forth and slammed his fist to his chest, the orcish sign of respect. "We apologize chieftain," he said, his eyes drifting to Grall as he spoke, "we did not expect you to meet us here." He eyed Grall with disgust as he finished his sentence.

Grodak took notice of the orcs disdain for Grall. "He's here because the elders ordered it." He said, trying to keep them in check. "If any of you lay a hand on my brother, I will leave you here, tied to a post and let the animals have you."

The command in Grodaks voice shocked Grall. Is this the same orc who cared so little about war that he bared himself up in his forge all the time? Grall asked himself.

The orcs eyes went back to Grodak, a hint of anger in them. These orcs were not used to anyone, not even Grodak, bossing them around. "Yes, my chieftain." He said as he turned around and started barking orders at his men.

Grall watched with grim amusement as the orcs went back to what they were doing while eyeing him with contempt. Grodak turned to Grall after a moment and motioned for him to follow. Grall, reluctant to turn his back to these men, did so.

"Do not let yourself be alone with these men." Grodak said, stating the obvious. "As long as you're around me they should not harm you."

"I'm not scared of them harming me, brother." Grall said in little more than a whisper. "I'm more concerned with them sending me to the Shadow World."

Grodak looked upon Grall questioningly. "How would they be able to do that? Only the elders can call upon you to appear in the other world."

"That was before they banished me from the tribe." Grall said barely able to hide the sadness that lingered in the back of his mind. "I am an outcast who has the ability to speak to the elders, because of this, I cannot die until the current chieftain dies."