“We should be the ones to destroy them, brother,” Gru’Nak answered, staring coldly at his brother.
“We are Orc! We do not rely on the magic of some mage to destroy our foes. We do it with Strength and blood, as our ancestors have done for centuries before us.”
“You do as your war chief commands brother! Unless you wish to take that title for yourself?” Gru’Nak could not say he hasn’t thought of killing his brother and leading his tribe back into their homelands in the wastes.
He could not understand his brother's obsession with the rangers or this godforsaken forest they called home. But, Gru’Kar didn’t become war chief by accident, he did so by being the fiercest of their warriors. To challenge him at his full strength would most certainly mean death, even for his own brother.
“No brother, I do not wish to challenge you, I am your loyal follower,” Gru’Nak said as he brought his arm across his chest in a salute.
“Then stop with your infernal questioning of my plans brother, I grow tired of hearing it,” Gru’Kar said, turning back towards the dark elf mage.
“As you wish, War chief,” Gru’Nak said, walking away. Gru’Kar watched him as he moved off towards the cliff of the ridge, wondering just how deep that loyalty really went.
“Trouble among the ranks?” Zannith asked as he strolled up to the big Orc.
“Nothing you need to concern yourself with,” was Gru’Kar’s answer.
“See that it isn’t,” Zannith replied with a venomous tone. Gru’Kar stared at him angrily but didn’t respond to his words. Instead, choosing to change the subject.
“Are you sure the HoloFae will even be able to find this gem?” He asked, looking back towards the cliff.
“If he cares at all for his home or his surrogate father, he will,” Zannith replied with a grin.
“What good will it do you to get this gem Zannith? Gru’Nak told me what your queen said. She says only a HoloFae can wield its power. You do not seem to fit that title to me.”
“Your right chief, but I will not need to. The wielding of its power is my concern. I will control the Dragon’s Heart. And when I do, all of our enemies, including my mother, will have no choice but to bow to us.”
He smiled again at the unshared truth of his words. For the scroll of his ancestor's journal not only told him how to use the gem. But, how to lift the HoloFae enchantment on it as well.
His grin only widened with thoughts of his cunning plan. Once the ranger used the Heart to cleanse his home. That same spell would be the means of undoing the enchantment that prevented anyone but a HoloFae from using it. Allowing him to harness its power for himself.
Once he could do that, he would no longer be forced to wait the centuries it would take for his mother to grow old and die. With the power of the gem at his command, he would be able to force the entire council to name him their ruler. Once that happened, he could turn his sights on the rest of Earthera. Making them all bow to him or face certain destruction at the whim of his dragons.
Gru’Kar could not miss the distant look in the mage's eyes, nor the smile on his lips that was so sinister even the big Orc felt the chill it invoked.
Zannith would have liked to leave the old ranger alive, if for nothing else to keep the half-blood motivated. Though he must admit, this may be better. It appeases the Orcs’ while sowing seeds of discord among the rangers.
He knew his message to the half-blood would raise suspicions among some of the rangers, quite possibly even turning to blame before this was finished. If he can get even some of them to turn their backs on the half-blood, it would make it all the easier to take the gem from him when he returns.
Gru’Kar could almost see the wheels turning in Zannith’s head. He will have to keep an eye on this DokalFae. They are a cunning race, to begin with, and this one seems to be unusually gifted at it. Moving people and groups around like chess pieces. He would have to stay on his guard if he was going to make sure his tribe didn’t become pawns in Zannith’s game.
The war chief was determined to wrench this forest from the hands of those rangers no matter what the cost, but he did not want to be used as a means for some mad DokalFae’s schemes. He looked out over the forest valley and thought about his home in the Dread Wastes.
There, his tribe once held a seat of honor among the Orcs. Many minor tribes paid homage to him. The Black Boars had power; then, they were both honored and feared.
Then the tribe war came, as Gru’Kar’s vision for his people was not shared by all Orcs. Even some of those who fell under his sway turned against him then. Why should the other races be the only ones who benefit from a monarchy? Why should the Orc people not become a nation?
It was this dream that led him to attempt to bring all the tribes under his banner. And what did he get for his vision? His tribe banished under pain of death. To wander Earthera homeless, with no land or station to call their own.
No, he would not allow this, he would, he has, found them a new area to call home. Once he has taken this forest, he will control the crossroads of the world.
All nations pass through here as they travel for trade or war. If they did not wish to use the river, they would need to pass through Agnar. He would use that need to build his own kingdom, burning down these miserable woodlands and erecting a stronghold. When those fool tribes see what he has done, they will flock to him begging to join the Black Boars’.
The first thing he will need to see this dream come true is the removal of those accursed rangers. They have the power to stand in his way. Once they were gone, this land would be his for the taking.
So, for now, he will play the little DokalFae’s game. He will abide by Zannith’s madness and lust for power. As long as it does not exceed his own.
If the dark elf can indeed unlock the potential of this gem, making it usable by anyone. Then he would have the means to rule any land he chooses.
For no tribe would deny the strength of a war chief that could control dragons.
Inside Briarthorn village, the Thorn Caller rangers were preparing for Maximillian’s funeral. Sagina had prepared his body for burial by soaking it in sage oil and maple sap.
This combination has been passed down among the Rangers since their order began. It’s how they honored their fallen brothers and sisters, making them ready to be returned to the forest.
While funeral rites varied among the people of Earthera, all Thorn Callers used burials. As they believed it to be the final communing between themselves and the forests, they spend their lives protecting.
He thought about that final communing as each nail he hammered, or carving he placed, only solidified his grief. He had done this many times through the years, but none had weighed on him quite like this one.
As he worked, his mind drifted to thoughts of Rone. He could not believe there was any connection between him and the dark elf that had done this. Yet, the evidence to the contrary was starting to build up.
No, he thought. There is no way Rone would partake in something like this. He loved Max more than most, so there must be another explanation.
As he sanded a rough spot out of the wood and began carving the sigil of their order, a blade with thorns wrapping it into the box’s lid. He found himself hoping that whatever that explanation was, it would be good enough to ease the growing anger in Tobias.