Rhatheth, Daggerfall,
3:35 pm, 14th Banem, 1092.
The cold air of death milled over the once-bustling village, subduing the atmosphere. Warrior orcs patrolled the streets, their gazes hardened in rage as they passed empty houses and charcoal sooted ruins. These buildings served as a stark reminder to the orcs, such that they would never forget the horrors committed at this place.
Several tents were erected outside the village where the orcs not on duty rested. None of the orcs were willing to enter the town if they did not have to. Even those whose houses survived the fires chose to set up camp outside. The memory of their loved ones and the gruesome scene they saw were still freshly haunted their minds.
It was toward this scene that a company of dwarven soldiers approached from the North. The company comprised roughly one-hundred soldiers. It was a number large enough to serve as a deterrent but not large enough to induce a significant threat. This number of soldiers already showcased the dwarfs' attitudes toward the upcoming negotiations without a single word spoken.
The dwarfs were willing to negotiate and did not look down on the orcs' authority.
Fifty orcs flanked the company at either side and escorted them to the village gates. The orcs glared at the dwarven soldiers, hoping for some sign of treachery. At that time, they would not hesitate to cut them down!
Unfortunately, (or was it?), the dwarfs so far, seemed to be on the up-and-up. They had not made any suspicious movements and allowed themselves to be escorted to the gates.
Grovitch awaited the company at the village's north gate. His eyes narrowed as he noticed the dwarf at the head of the company. His red, leather armor stood out against the stock armor the other soldiers wore. The dwarf's eyes were sharp and held a firm conviction. His gaze did not falter even when faced with the hundreds of orcs camped outside the city gate, glaring at him with unshielded hatred.
The lead dwarf raised his hand and stopped the company when they were roughly twenty meters from the gate. He then dismounted and walked toward Grovitch, accompanied by three warriors and two astoundingly fat dwarfs garbed in expensive civilian clothing that reeked of expensive perfume.
The fat dwarfs, whose opulence was displayed by several gold chains, squeezed out from within the company. Both dwarfs bore a striking semblance, varied only by the passage of time. The older of the two sported a dark grey beard while the younger of the two, seemingly in his early thirties, sported a neat, black beard.
Grovitch sneered as he saw the fear and hesitation in the civilians' eyes. 'Hmph! As expected of those cowardly dwarfs. We haven't even pulled out our weapons, and they're already pissing themselves in fright. To think these cowards killed our people!' The orc's face contorted in rage, but he eventually managed to control his emotions.
Grovitch looked at the dwarfs in civilian clothing. "Which one of you is Rudega Farvulia?"
"How rude!" The younger dwarf spat. "Who do you think you're speaking to with that attitude?"
Rage burned in Grovitch's eyes, and he reached for his ax.
"Wait! I apologize for my brethren's conduct," the lead dwarf stepped between Grovitch and the civilians and offered a bow in recompense. "I am Rudega Farvulia. You must be Grovitch Bone-Breaker. I wish we could have met under more favorable circumstances."
"Farvulia!" The younger dwarf shouted. "You dare bow to a low—"
"Shut up!" Rudega roared and glared at the dwarf. He glared at the older dwarf and warned, "Thonur, control your son, or I will discipline him myself!" Rudega began to regret bringing this wastrel father/son pair along.
Mokern Thonur, the older of the two dwarfs, was the dwarven lord of the Nuxvar province. He demanded that Rudega brought him and his son, Ungund, along, and Rudega could not refuse.
After all, Mokern was the lord of this region. Rudega would have overstepped his boundary if he carried out such a pivotal negotiation without the presence of the lord.
Rudega's eyes burned with rage as he glared at Mokern. Bringing them along was one thing. However, he would not tolerate their antics if they jeopardized the negotiations in any way. The stakes were far too high.
It also helped that the Farvulian household had direct blood ties to the previous dwarven king. As a result, Rudega still had a modicum of seniority over these wastrel nobles.
Mokern's features darkened after Rudega's outburst. However, only a moment passed before he replaced it with a smile. "Ah, apologies, Farvulia. It's my foolish son's first time outside our city. Please understand. I will ensure it does not happen again."
"You see to that," Rudega huffed and then turned to look at Grovitch. As expected, the orc had just released the grip on his ax. Rudega did not doubt Ungund's outcome if he completed that sentence. He had just saved the dwarf's life, but he doubted Ungund would ever realize how closely he danced with death.
Just as Rudega feared, hatred and disgust momentarily flashed past Ungund's eyes, but with a nudge from his father, he lowered his head.
Rudega was oblivious to Ungund's rage. He looked at Grovitch and said, "Please lead the way."
Grovitch snorted. "Follow me," he said and led them through the city streets.
"Sweet Mera," Rudega sighed beneath his breath as he took in the burned and crumbled buildings. This was worse than he had ever imagined. Assuming at least one non-combatant orc lived in these homes at the time of the massacre... How many thousands of innocents were slaughtered here!?
A large lump was stuck in Rudega's throat by the time they reached the city center. To the dwarf's surprise, a single tent was set up on a field of white. The dwarf stared at the white soil in shock.
How extravagant.
He did not think the orcs were the type for such luxury, let alone a small orc village like this. However, this was not the most important thing at the current time.
Rudega turned to Grovitch, bowed, and humbly implored, "Before we begin discussions, could you please point me to the graves. I wish to pay my respects."
Grovitch's expression hardened as a dark cloud descended over his eyes. He pointed at the ground and said, "You're standing on it."
Rudega's eyes widened, feeling like lightning struck his soul. His eyes shook as he once again examined the white ground. "This...This is ash!? 'Soul Clings to the Earth!?'"
'Soul Clings to the Earth' was an extremely rare occurrence. It was a phenomenon created when innocent souls perished with extreme resentment. Their resentment built bindings that locked the souls to the earth and prevented them from joining The Circle.
This phenomenon manifested in the world in different ways. One of the rarest versions was binding the deceased's ashes to the ground of the crime. The only methods to release the souls were to either slay the responsible person and drip their blood over the area or through the help of a powerful priest with strong holy energy (or necromancers who seized the wandering souls for their use).
Grovitch snorted. "My people are unresigned. They will cling to this plane until their death is avenged. For your sake, I hope you have a convincing case." The orc's eyes burned. "If not, at least you'll help pacify some souls."
Rudega felt the collective glares of all the orcs. Their pain and hatred created a heavy pressure that pushed down on his shoulders. Rudega, however, did not let the pressure get to him. With a resolute expression, he got down on his knees and kowtowed three times. Each time, he smashed his head against the Earth with enough force to shake it. After the last bow, he sat on his knees and loudly swore, "I, Rudega Farvulia, hereby swear on the name of the Farvulia Household that I will do everything in my power to bring about the release you seek."
Rudega rose to his feet and dabbed at the blood dripping down his forehead with a handkerchief. He looked at Grovitch, gestured towards the tent, and said, "If you would please..."
A hint of respect momentarily passed through Grovitch's eyes. If nothing else, this Rudega man had proven so far to be a man of respect and honor. He could not bring himself to completely hate the dwarf. However, his family still clung to the earth. Until they were released, he would not believe a single word from the dwarf's mouth. For all he knew, this could be an elaborate act to let down his guard.
The light in Grovitch's eyes died down as quickly as it came. He threw a cold shoulder Rudega's way and led him to the tent.
The tent's interior was as simple as you'd expect from a temporary meeting spot. A unique piece of furniture, a large bone chair, sat at the end of the tent directly opposite the entrance. Durst sat in the chair with his ax on his lap, cold eyes measuring the dwarfs that entered the tent. Renark Ragelock and Guvern Dreamstone flanked the orc on his left and right side, respectively.
The trio discussed earlier and agreed Durst should lead the negotiations. It was no secret among the orcs that Durst was one of the most intelligent orcs among their race. It was just that he had no interest in power, hence why he was content with his small village. Guvern's presence had always been to legitimize the decisions made during the discussion. The arrangement depicted the trust Grimlock had in Durst.
Ragnaf Banbeast stood by the entrance. Together with Grovitch, they guarded the tent's entry point. Unlike all the orcs in the room, Ragnaf's eyes only held curiosity as he looked at Rudega. His instincts told him this dwarf was strong, and if it were not for Durst's presence, he might have already attacked, just to see what a battle against such a small creature would be like.
In the end, however, Ragnaf managed to restrain himself and watched the meeting with a tortured expression.
Oblivious to the young orc's thoughts, Rudega approached the Durst. He stopped a few meters away, clasped his right fist in his left palm, and bowed. "Durst Blood-Drinker, your renowned name, has graced the lips of thousands of bards in the north. It is an honor to finally make your acquaintance. I only wish it was under better circumstances."
Durst's eyes remained cold, but he rose from his chair and approached the dwarf. "I have heard of you, Rudega Farvulia. They say you are a man of honor. I sincerely hope that to be the case." He looked at the father/son pair and frowned. "Your companions?"
Rudega introduced the dwarfs. "Mokern and Ungund Thorun the lord and heir of the Nuxvar province."
"Hmph!" Renark snorted in disdain. "To think you dwarfs dare to claim lordship. We've truly taken it too easy on you in the past years."
"Not now, Ragelock." Durst looked over his shoulder at Renark and shook his head. Renark snorted but kept his rage in check. Durst turned his attention back to Durst. "Sorry about that. Renark means well. We're just on edge, as you would understand."
'You said 'Not Now,' didn't you? Aren't you implying later is fine?' Despite his inner turmoil, Rudega stiffly smiled and replied, "I understand." He cast a gaze at the orc shaman in the corner, but seeing that Durst had no intention of introducing the orc, Rudega gave up and turned his attention back to Durst. "We can begin whenever you're ready."
Durst suddenly sat on the ground. "Come, sit down. We'll speak with my people as witnesses..."
Rudega cast a wary look at Durst as he sat on the ground opposite the orc chief. He quickly motioned to Mokern and Ungund, who, despite the disgust on their faces, joined the dwarf on the floor.
Rudega released a sigh of relief, as he had feared these dwarfs' pride would not allow them to sit on the ground. Luckily, it seemed they still knew the correct action to take in this situation.
Durst, meanwhile, examined the expressions on the dwarfs' faces as they sat down. From Mokern and Ungund's disgust to Rudega's relief, nothing left his eyes. He began to assemble a profile of the dwarfs in his mind.
When Mukern and Ungund finally sat down, Durst spoke, "What was your role in the massacre of my people?"
The dwarfs' expressions warped in shock and anger. What the hell? Who came right off the bat with accusations like that!? The proper procedure was to slowly feel each other out through dialogue before launching any accusatory remarks. This was because once allegations were thrown out, it could be considered as burning the bridges. It was quite tough to repair any relationship once charges had been tossed out.
However, in this case, the orcs did not seem to care about decorum.
"Durst-san, don't you think that accusation's a little harsh?" Rudega softly challenged. Although he was here to repair bridges, he was not going to roll over like a dog.
"Harsh?" Durst snorted. "Sorry, but orcs do not play your stupid word games. When we want to know something, we ask. You can choose how to answer." The orc's eyes narrowed, and the atmosphere suddenly grew heavy with unseen pressure. "Just do not lie to me. You won't like the outcome."
Rudega snorted, and his aura scattered the pressure on the dwarfs. He glared at Durst, the anger in his eyes, expressing his distaste for such intimidation tactics. "My people had nothing to do with the attack."
Durst glared at the dwarf. His voice dropped low, and with no attempt to hide the threatening tone, he growled, "Are you calling my people liars? The only survivor of my people forced himself to live long enough to report this one message. You dare to insult the honor of a proud warrior?"
Rudega winced as he felt a headache coming on. Shit, he had never expected there was an eyewitness. 'Damn you, Brilith, what did you do!?' He had been hoping it was mere speculation on the orcs' part. After all, the dwarfs were their direct enemy, so it made sense that they first suspect the dwarfs.
However, there was an actual witness—that undoubtedly complicated things.
Rudega gathered his wits about him and said, "Were you able to get any description on this dwarf?"
"No," Durst replied. "He only had enough life left in him to report the existence of the dwarf."
Rudega gritted his teeth. "Have you investigated further? Do you have an estimate of how many dwarfs were present?"
"You no longer deny the presence of the dwarfs?" Durst questioned with a raised brow. He had expected Rudega to continue denying to his grave.
"You warrior had no reason to lie," Rudega replied in a grim tone. "There is no time to go back and forth over whether a dwarf did it or not. The important thing is to find the culprits and bring them to justice over such a tasteless massacre."
"You don't seem to be lying," Durst said. He looked at the dwarf across from him with a tinge of respect. "We confirmed there were at least thirty murderers. One of them was very skilled. They single-handedly wiped out all the guards stationed around the village. The others entered the village and slaughtered everything that moved."
Rudega eyes widened in shock. "How do you know there were so many?"
"Each person has their method of killing," Durst explained. "Some prefer a quick decapitation, some go for the heart, some relish in causing pain while others try to end their targets as quickly as possible. People even have different weapons and methods of stabbing. As long as you pay attention to these details, you can guess a rough estimate of attackers."
"That is... impressive," Rudega complimented despite himself. He had never seen an orc display this level of intelligence before. This Durst character; there was more to him than met the eye. The dwarf's admiration turned to shock as he recognized a peculiarity in the numbers. "Wait. Did you say thirty? But there are hundreds of orcs. How could only thirty cause so much chaos?"
"First, most of the villages' warriors were out on a food gathering expedition," Durst stated with guilt on his face. "But also, I believe they are an elite troop—the type that can only be fostered by a nation. No bandit group has experts with this much discipline and skill." Durst's eyes bore into Rudega's with an angry challenge. "Do you still think your people had nothing to do with it?"
Rudega winced. This was why he hoped he would be dealing with a dumb orc. Smart people were too annoying. Give them a few clues, and they would break down a puzzle that the rest of the world would struggle on for months.
Rudega realized the possibility of him being forced to give 'that' up increased with each passing dialogue. However, he was not sure what the orcs' reaction would be, which was why he was buying as much time to dig out what kind of man this Durst was.
Rudega let out a sigh. "Truly, my people had nothing to do with it. I swear."
"Oh?" Durst's eyes flashed as he glared at the dwarf. "But you have an idea who might be responsible?"
Rudega shivered. Indeed, this orc was way too sharp. It was nigh unreasonable. "Yes, I might have an idea."
"What!?" Renark, who, up until that moment, had been standing behind Durst, growled in shock. "You know the cause of our suffering!? Why didn't you tell us sooner!? Why did you waste so much time? Are you buying time for someone!?"
The tent's atmosphere suddenly grew suffocatingly heavy as those within the tent pondered on Renark's words. Indeed, if Rudega knew all this while, why didn't he say anything? Could it be, as Renark stated? Was he buying time for the culprit to escape?
Grovitch's eyes turned blood-red, and he gripped his ax. If it were not for Durst's calm expression, he would have already struck. The orc relaxed the grip on his ax and continued coldly observing the meeting.
Durst felt the cold tension in the room, but his mind was on something else. He looked over his shoulder at Renark and shook his head.
Renark understood the cue. He took a step back and shut his mouth. Durst was not particularly pleased with that outburst. Even though Renark brought up some good points, the timing could not have been any worse. They needed the dwarfs to tell them who was responsible for the crime, yet Renark's attitude might have just scared some truths out of them.
Durst looked at the dwarfs and was surprised to see Rudega was similarly unaffected by the room's tension. However, the dwarfs by his side were petrified in fear, their faces pale-white. The orc could not understand why these two were brought along. They had offered nothing to the conversation and looked like they would crap their pants at the slightest provocation. However, it was not his place to question their presence. He turned his attention back to Rudega and apologized, "Sorry for my friend's outburst. He is quite upset."
"No need for apologies, I understand," Rudega nodded.
"Good," Durst said, then proceeded to the main topic. "So, tell me who you think is responsible, and for the sake of my friend, why you didn't tell us earlier."
"I had to be sure," Rudega said with a sigh. "I am not in the habit of throwing accusations without adequate grounds for suspicion. I needed enough evidence to justify my suspicion."
Durst's eyes narrowed. "You have that justification now?"
"Yes," Rudega acknowledged. "You said the attackers were an elite few, ruthless and powerful. In Daggerfall, there are usually only two groups with that kind of firepower. Orc cities and dwarfs. But recently, a new force has begun encroaching on these lands."
Durst frowned. "You mean the wisben? No way. They battle straightforward without resorting to such tactics. Besides, wisben worship nature and life. They would never wantonly harm innocents this way."
"Normally, that would be the case," Rudega agreed. "However, what if I told you the one leading this charge was a Summoned?"
Durst did a double-take. "Summoned? Those beings from another world?" He realized the severity of that word. Stories had been passed down for generations about the Summoned; these beings from another world who looked down on all the indigenous lifeforms.
The Summoned were known as heartless murderers. They could wipe out entire cities and towns without the slightest remorse. Durst did not dare to imagine the consequence of having these plagues in Daggerfall.
Durst swallowed his shock and looked at Rudega. "You believe the Summoned are responsible?"
"I am ninety-nine percent sure," Rudega confirmed.
"How can you be so sure?"
Rudega's brows drew together as grief colored his features. "I am the one who invited them into our lands."
"What did you say!?" Durst's expression instantly contorted in abject rage. His eye burned in fury as he recalled the empty-eyed corpses of his wife and daughter. Durst gritted his teeth so hard that blood dripped out from his mouth. His body trembled as he struggled to contain his rage while barely squeezing out, "You brought them here?"
"I fully regret my actions," Rudega stated with a downcast expression. "I wanted her help in uniting the dwarven families. I did not think she would attempt to swallow us all."
Durst struggled to keep his emotions in check. "This woman. What is her name?"
"Brilith," Rudega replied. "Brilith Loneheart."
Durst let out a sigh then grasped a piece of the soil in his hand. "Did you hear that? We now know our enemy. I vow to bring her before you and settle this grudge." Durst let the dust slide off his fingers, then turned his attention to Rudega. "Okay, so the powerful backer is this Brilith Loneheart. However, it still does not explain the presence of so many dwarfs or how they knew the orc villages' location. Someone has to have aided them. Was that you?"
Rudega shook his head. "I never provided any information regarding the orcs, only the situation of my people. Besides, I live in the north. There's no way I could know the precise location of so many orc villages. Only, the region lord could have access to that information..." The dwarf's voice trailed off towards the end, as realization dawned. "No way. Please tell me it's no—" Schlick! "Ah!" Rudega screamed in pain as two swords pierced through him from behind. If F more
Rudega turned around, face blanching as he saw the terrible hatred on both Mukern and Undung's faces. Mokern's savage hatred morphed into a triumphant grin as he glared at the injured dwarf. "You have always been too smart for your own good," Mokern laughed with a savage smile.
"M-Mokern, you..." Rudega coughed up blood, finding it extremely difficult to speak.
Durst's eyes sparked to life. He picked up his ax and was about to rush to Rudega's aid when a strong sense of danger suddenly assaulted him. Durst panicked and instantly turned around, raising his ax above his head. It turned out to be the right decision as less than half a second later, a tremendous force crashed into the ax.
Bam!
Durst did not get a chance to recover after blocking the weapon. The assailant retaliated with a vicious kick to his abdomen. Durst winced as the air was knocked out of his lungs.
Unfortunately for Durst, he was fighting on his knees, with lousy posture, while the opponent was standing and had readied themselves before attacking. The battle's outcome was long since decided.
Durst painfully raised his head, and his eyes widened as they were met with the sharp glint of a metal ax. The orc roared in anger and rage as he faced his end.
Clang! Krshh!
Durst shouted in pain as the ax blade smashed into his left shoulder, its trajectory altered by a thrown handaxe. Blood splattered across Durst's face, but the orc's anger surpassed the pain. He grabbed his assailant's arm and roared, "WHY!?"
Grovitch and Ragnaf attempted to run to Durst's rescue, but Munerk and Ungund had other ideas. Ragnaf had been the one to save Durst's life earlier with the thrown handaxe. They would not give him that opportunity again.
Munerk and Ungund took out a pair of spherical objects from their pockets and tossed one each into Grovitch and Ragnaf's path. They flung the final two at Durst then shielded themselves with a prompt Mana shield.
BOOM!
A massive explosion blew the tent sky high, drawing the stunned attention of all the orcs stationed in the village. Unbeknownst to them, an army in the distance took the explosion as a signal and began approaching the town. Meanwhile, within the dwarven ranks, the expression of a few dwarfs suddenly grew sharp with a deadly glint in their eyes.