Authors: Laszlo,Jeremy
Turning, he strode the two paces to the third emissary of the big chief and stood only inches away from the man. Leaning in even closer, he brought his face within an inch of the other Orc’s, and glaring, he gave his final warning.
“Talk bad Gathos clan, Gnak lay Orc beside others.”
With an angry sneer, the Orc grunted his understanding. Gnak waited a moment, letting his hot breath blast the Orc in the face, before finally taking a step back and looking down upon the slightly smaller Orc.
“Gnak let you take Orcs. Gnak give back life. You go. We come. Gathos no hurry, yes?”
Turning once more, Gnak nodded to his captains and striding forward he bent briefly and touched both of the Orcs. He had thought to swap them, giving each the other’s body, but thought it best not to reveal all of his tricks just yet.
As the Orcs came to, they began clamoring to their feet in an attempt to spring back into the fight but before they could even complete the thought, Gnak’s captains were upon them, grabbing them from behind and holding them firm. Tilting his head back to look down at them, he waved them away with a disgusted gesture as his men took their cue and led the outsiders away from the camp before releasing them. Still the Gathos tribe did not stir.
Gnak realized that none but a select few had known of his ability to simply stop another man in his tracks. Now
all
knew. He could see the pride swelling within them. Gathos, though proud, was not strong among the clans of their own kind. They did not have any warriors blessed by the Orc gods. Had not had any for many generations. Now, however, they had a chief that was not only powerful, but also blessed by a god. Gnak had even gone so far as to defy the big chief, and he knew that all of them understood what
that
meant.
Though it had not been an open challenge, Gnak had not simply submitted to the big chief. The blessed warrior who ruled over all the clans could take Gnak’s actions as an insult and come to put Gnak and the Gathos clan back in check. Numerous times he was known to kill much of a clan for retribution for such an insult. After having dealt his punishment, he would simply place one of his own captains in the dead chief’s place. But Gnak was not afraid. He had just proven himself to the clan. They would now work hard to do as he wished. They now had faith in him, even if his ideas were new. Gnak felt secure in their newfound pride, and felt he needed to use it to his benefit while it was fresh in their hearts.
“Pray mighty Ishanya give Gathos strength,” Gnak began, and the unified voice of his clan picked up the prayer. He watched as the three retreating Orcs stopped and turned to look back over their shoulders at what they could plainly hear. Seeing their pause, Gnak grinned a tusky grin, before returning his attention to those around him.
Turning, he slapped Bota on the back as the prayer was finished and gave an order to his clan.
“Now big chief know Gathos. Now he know Gnak. We no break camp. We go when Gnak say. No when big chief say. Let clans come. Let Orcs challenge Gathos. All fall who not stand for Ishanya.”
It was a bold statement and one he was not certain was entirely true, but it fed into their belief in him, and he was assured of its effectiveness when the clan replied. Grunting together as one, many shouted and rattled their weapons, raising them into the air in defiance. Pleased, he and Bota strode through the camp as his captains began barking orders to set up a patrol and various lookout posts around the camp. All Orcs were familiar with war, and the Gathos clan was no different. If any came to challenge them, they would be ready.
Entering his tent with Bota, he could tell by the other Orc’s face that the man thought him mad. At least to some degree. He was beginning to like Bota. He could trust him to speak his mind. The Orc was useful.
“Bota talk,” Gnak invited.
“Gnak challenge big chief. What if big chief come?” Bota asked.
“Big chief come, Gnak fight, take clan.”
“Big chief clan, many god warriors. Big chief come, many die.”
It was true, and Gnak knew it. Bota was pissing on his mood. If the big chief did come he would bring his clan, and Gnak knew it was the most impressive force the Orcs could muster. Each member of the chief’s clan was hand-plucked from the other tribes of Orcs, and many of them were blessed by the gods. If they came, they would slaughter no less than all of Gnak’s captains, and likely most of the men in general, before the big chief even came to stand before Gnak. Opposition to the big chief was not taken lightly, and was punished severely.
His emboldened pride effectively pissed away, Gnak could only hope that his defiance was not seen as a direct challenge, but with it effectively out of his control at this point, all he could do was simply take Jen’s advice and wait.
“Bota smart. Big chief come, no go good. Gnak no think come. We wait. We see.”
“Wait for armor?”
“Armor, yes.”
“What plan armor come?” Bota asked.
“No know yet. Need see more. Need know more. Send scouts. Armor come, we go meet big chief. Then Gnak make plan.”
Gnak wished he knew what they were marching into. He wished he knew why so many Orcs were gathering and what force they would be facing. He wished he knew if he would be able to unite the clans now or if he would be forced to wait until later. There were so many things that he did not know, it was astounding. But with his newly acquired and still maturing understanding of the world, at least he had learned to wait and see what it was he was facing before rushing in to bolster his personal pride. Waiting was not the most exciting thing to do, but for now it was the best option.
“Gnak no sleep much, many day. Need rest if fight big chief. Bota go. Bota rest. Night come soon.”
With that he dismissed Bota and, settling upon his bed of furs, he stared up at the ceiling and offered his own prayer to Ishanya before closing his eyes to rest. It was not long before sleep took him and when it did he faced a vision, the like of which he had never seen before.
CHAPTER SIX
Lightning bristled down out of the skies as swollen thunderheads pooled about the mountaintops. Rain fell in sheets in the coming darkness, the sky all black but for a streak of blood upon the horizon. With every roll of thunder the world seemed to roar as Gnak peered out over the landscape before him. Another blast, and blinding light pierced through the slits in his helm as the ground shook beneath him.
Standing atop an immense platform, he looked out beneath him as his world was remade to fulfill his desires. For it was his destiny to see fulfilled the wishes of the goddess Ishanya, and before his very eyes those wishes were being brought to reality. Below, in the rocky face of the mountain, an immense city was being constructed. Even in the pounding rain of the darkest night he could recall, the masses toiled to create for him a new beginning for his realm.
Goblins climbed here and there, chisels and hammers in their hands, chipping away at the stone face of the mountain. They carved endlessly, day and night, making the paths and roads and buildings. Flake by flake and stone by stone, they refined the rough edges left by those who swung mightier blows before them, for the goblins were not alone in their efforts.
With another shot of lightning, Gnak watched as both Orc and troll pounded the mountainside with immense hammers and picks. Here they leveled a rise, and there they widened a chasm. Some shoveled bits of dust and stone, clearing the way for others to work. Carts were shoved and pulled up and down the mountain by men of all the races he commanded by the hundreds, hauling away the waste created down a singular treacherous path to the base of the mountain. Though he could not see if from this vantage, he knew that once emptied at the mountain’s feet, those carts would then be loaded with building stones carved further down the mountain.
Out around the city a great wall was being erected from massive stones, enclosing the giant stone fortress, as giants wearing harnesses hauled the huge slabs of rock up the face of the wall with chains and pulleys. Lifting the immense blocks, the giants slowly lumbered down the wall, placing them in position before they were coated with a dark thick substance.
On and on the storm raged, as the thousands of fires amongst the rising towers and walls fought the rain to survive. Caves were able to be seen with the flashes of lightning, peppered all across the face of the mountains, but were lost again when the darkness returned.
Gnak looked upon it all from his perch high above the fortress. He knew it was the most impressive thing ever built. Never before had there ever been a city of multiple races that climbed up the mountains to touch the clouds above, and delved deep into the ground beneath the mountains, where stone and metal were melded together naturally in a swirling river of molten death. Even now, he could smell the sulfur rising up through the chimneys carved through the mountain to heat the stone and remove the natural moisture that clung there. Down there, in the depths, toiled blacksmiths from all his races, sharing their knowledge and skills to create for him better designed and stronger armor and weapons than he had ever imagined. Were it not for the raging storm he would have been able to hear the clangs of their thousands of hammers ringing up through the stone, to be joined by the percussion of the hammers pounding stone to dust on the surface. It was like music, the building of his great city.
Assured that all proceeded as planned, he climbed down from the pinnacle of his city. Down the steps that had been carved for him to crest the temple being carved from the highest peak in his realm. Here his people could call out to Ishanya and be heard. So close to the heavens, here their prayers were sometimes answered. Here, Gnak knew, is where his destiny led. He awaited the future with open arms.
* * * * *
Gnak arose feeling more refreshed than he had in weeks. With a grin he climbed from his bed and began strapping on his armor. He had not had a dream. No. It was entirely too real to be a simple dream. It was a vision. Such visions were sent from the gods and his was a good one. It meant that he was on the right path. He could almost taste his victory already. Jen would be happy to hear it.
Donning his armor, he strode from his tent as two of his captains quickly fell into step behind him. It was later than he had anticipated. Both moons were already far across the sky, marking it at near the middle of the night. He had slept much longer than he had planned, and it angered him. Though the fact that he had not been awoken said much about the time that had passed as he slept. As of yet the big chief had not come, but perhaps his elation was a tad premature.
From the northern edge of camp the alarm was sounded as Gnak turned and ran to the edge of their makeshift home, as figures began appearing upon the dune immediately outside camp. Gnak knew them to be Orcs, but with the moons bright in the sky and the stars behind the Orcs he could not see anything but their silhouettes against the backdrop. Down they came, bounding down the dune, their number appearing to be but a few. Then more silhouettes appeared atop the dune, and he realized all too soon that these other figures were not Orcs. Something was amiss.
Drawing his blades, his captains followed suit and together Gnak and half a dozen men rushed out to meet those first down the dune. Having been expecting retaliation for his treatment of the big chief’s Orcs, his clan rushed in behind them, and it seemed all were ready for a fight. All except those bounding down the hill.
Gnak watched as the Orcs came to an immediate stop, each of them raising their hands and calling out into the darkness, calling the name of the Gathos clan in greeting. Gathos. They were his own men. But that still did not account for the others.
“What this?” Gnak shouted, raising his hand to point at those still atop the dune.
“Goblin king take Gnak deal. Fix armor. Send goblins help bring armor,” one of the Orcs said. Gnak recognized it was one of his captains, and listened on as the Orc continued.
“Goblins come war too. Goblin king come with troops. Want talk Gnak. Goblin king think good, Gnak chief.”
Gnak could not help but smirk into the night. The goblins marched to war too. It was an interesting discovery, assuming of course that the big chief was not gathering his forces to attack the goblins. That could make the understanding he had with the goblin king much more difficult. But without such knowledge, he could not help but wonder how many troops the goblin king commanded. He knew the small man had a large city filled with goblins, but was clueless as to how many served as soldiers to their goblin leader. Deciding he was more or less happy, the goblin king had come, and just as he had promised, he would make the goblin welcome in his home. Even if it was only temporary.
Looking up to the top of the dune where the small contingent of goblins remained, Gnak shouted so that they might hear his words as well.
“Come, bring Gnak armor. Tell goblin king come. He talk Gnak. Goblins welcome Gnak camp.”
The gasps from his clan were audible, and though none spoke against his order, murmurs were plentiful and he knew and expected many of his clan to be hesitant to accept such a visit. Even so, he waited patiently along with his clan as the contingent of goblins pulled carts atop the dune and began to drag them down behind them.
Gnak watched as cart after cart topped the rise and began to descend in his direction. These were not the crude carts of his people. No. These had wide wheels wrapped in leather and did not dig into the sand as much. They were smaller, in proportion to the race that had created them, and each had a harness that strapped about the goblins’ waists and shoulders. Gnak recognized the harnesses from his vision. They were of the same make the giants had been using to haul giant slabs of stone in his vision.