[Horde] Session Thirteen
Opening Song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vYMxFWrPb34&feature=youtu.be
Arthak heads to the North with Kaylaan and Wintermaw. As his friends descend, he ascends.
He’s made it to the foot of the mountains. As the three set off upon the rolling mountains, punching towards the sky, they’re able to keep on the smoother and easier climbed paths. They are able to go on more stable ground before they have to directly climb.
For the first bit, it’s rather silent as they tread the hills. As the climb up the path, the stone begins to change from blackened, twisted, paths… until halfway through the first day. It seems as though the corruption has faded entirely as they ascend up the path.
Looking back down, they could see the gradual shift. Looking on the horizon, they can see the canyon. Tempest Keep, too, juts out of the Earth near the sea. As the sun reaches its midpoint, the chilly mountain air brushes between their collective armor. It’s a brisk, mountain air.
Kaylaan catches up to Arthak, looking back, “It’s hard to believe that’s what brought be to that world. It’s almost like coming home… except I never wanted to. Thank you for allowing me to come with you on this.”
“You aided us against Socrethar. It would be disrespectful of what you’ve done to refuse.”
He shrugs and says that he doesn’t want to go back to Tempest Keep. Arthak understands as Kaylaan explains there’s too many memories. The two banter, joking about mortal danger.
Arthak also thanks him, glad to have someone who watches his back. (Wintermaw growls until scratched behind ears). Kaylaan laughs and says, “Yes, the road is long and it’s not the most interesting conversation partner.”
“You’d be surprised. I spent a certain amount of time with the Frostwolves.”
“Tell me, are they all as prickly as that Sorak fellow?”
“No. No, Sorak, has… uhm. Other things driving him. The Frostwolves are an honorable people. They remember what many of my people have lost. There are few better friends and few worse enemies.”
“I’ll take your word for it. Then again, if I tag along with you and your Warband, I’ll tag along and meet them myself.”
“Perhaps you will.” FORESHADOWING.
They fall silent again for a time.
Kaylaan pops up again, “So, I couldn’t help but notice your farewell to Remnii.”
“What about it?”
“I suppose I found it to be quite interesting. I wouldn’t have expected you to fall for her so quickly.”
“Fall for what?” Arthak asks.
Kaylaan stops, shooting him a look. “You allowed her to give you a hug, Arthak. Your people aren’t the most huggy.:
“I’m not the most huggy person.” He growls.
“I found it quite curious. Some other races, not as long lived as ours, how that prcess goes.”
‘What process?”
“The process of courtship, of coming to care for someone. There’s no rush. We live for thousands and thousands of years. You orcs are expected to fall in love, have children, in what? A hundred years?”
“I guess so. Wait. Are you taking what Sarok said seriousl?”
“No. I would have brought it up regardless. It does not matter to me, I was just curious.”
“I’m not courting Remnii… or anything.”
“Truly?”
“Truly.”
“And you are how old? Twenty-something?”
“Twenty three.”
Kaylaan laughs. “I do not pretend to know when your people were expected to do som. I just assumed your intention.”
“I…” Arthak pauses. “AFter what happened with the Ashtounge, Remnii chose to hug me. I didn’t stop her and that’s what happened then.” He grumbles. “Tjere’s certain things I don’t think about. Besides, no. There’s. No. ther’s. Nothing there.”
“Ah, so you’ve never thought of it before? Finding a mate?”
Arthak growls, “Do you intend to discuss this?”
“I was merely looking to find a subject of conversation.”
“Hrrgh.”
“There are always options, friend.”
Kaylaan promises not to press, but he was just curious. They then start speaking of the difference between their people.
“Are we friends now?” Arthak asks, reacting to Kaylaan calling him “friend.”
“I like to think so. We committed high treason together and now we are climbing a mountain together. I would think a certain amount of comradery would come of it, no?”
“You’re not wrong.”
The mountain gets steeper as they continue on. The distance between Kaylaan and Arthak increases, though Kaylaan shouts back to Arthak.
“Oh, and as far as the deaths of the Ashtongue are concerned, don’t let it weigh on you. You are not the one that gave the order, my friend. That falls on Culuthas. One of the reasons I intend to kill himself.”
“The responsibility falls on both. Obedience is a choice like any other.”
“Ha. In that case, I should have demanded a medal from Remnii. After all, if it is part of the responsibility of those who follow to take credit for the orders given, I should take part of the credit for the Battle of Tempest Keep.”
Arthak expresses he wasn’t there, and Kaylaan says it was good he wasn’t as the experiences were not good for either side.
Kaylaan gets to a small outcropping, the mountainside grows steeper. He then takes hooks and ropes from his bag, as does Arthak, to get ready to climb. He tosses Arthak a rope, telling him to tie it around himself in case of falling.
They begin to climb, making steady but slow progress. By the time night falls they’ve made decent progress. Kaylaan takes first watch. Arthak takes second. Nothing exciting happens, the night goes by without anything happening. The next day begins, climbing anew. It’s steady and slow progress. As they climb, they don’t speak much.
The second night passes. Nothing major takes place.
By the third day, they’re beginning to race the top. As they awaken, there’s a gentle snow falling.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5A2jYFM4Y-o
The trio continues to climb, and as they are climbing the snow and the wind increases a bit. It gets to be a bit harder for Arthak to hold on, but as they take their time he is able to ensure he is securely attached to the mountain. The wind is making it hard to see. Wintermaw was able to skirt himself up some side passages, and his eyes glint from up ahead.
However, just then, there is the slip of metal, and something tightens on the parts of armor that are tied to Kaylaan. He shouts and lurches backwards.
One of his hooks had come out of the mountain and was tumbling downward. The eredar is hanging on a few feet down from where he was.
Arthak shimmies back down and offers a hand to Kaylaan. He is able to grab onto it and balance himself. Arthak gives the eredar a spare hook.
“Many thanks, Arthak. I’ll do my best not to lose this one.”
“Please do so. I want everyone coming back down this mountain.”
Kaylaan nods and they continue the climb. They meet Wintermaw at the top, and they are greeted with a tundral view of rolling hills at the top of the mountain.
The rock seems to be completely undamaged. The wind and the snow storm also seems to have subsided a bit as the face of the mountain breaks the storm.
Arthak asks Kaylaan if he wants to rest, but Kaylaan says they can keep going.
Arthak asks him to ensure he doesn’t “fall behind” and Kaylaan asks if that was a joke. Arthak says he isn’t known for a sense of humor, and Kaylaan says they will have to work on that.
The chill of the wind bites against Arthak’s armor, but he is able to ignore it.
Arthak: “What was it like? Revenge?”
Kaylaan: “It was good. It was very good. But…I suppose the difficult part of revenge is what happens afterwards. Yes I avenged my brother’s death, but now what I guess is the question that comes to mind. There is Culuthas, I have to pay him back, but it is strange being… free. I have served others my entire life. And now for the first time in a very long time I am free to do whatever I want. It’s… strange.”
“I imagine options are, for those who have been denied them for so long. But it was good?”
“Yes, that I cannot dispute.”
“Good…. Good.”
“You have a lot of revenge you have to exact don’t you?”
“I have many debts to pay. Some are ones owed to me. Others are ones I owe. But yes. There’s a lot of blood to be paid.”
“Well…. I do hope you find what you’re looking for. But perhaps you should make plans for after lest you blind yourself with freedom.”
“The list is long. Trust me, the odds of me ever seeing freedom. It’s not likely to happen. There’s a draenei phrase I’ve heard. Chronokai kristor… well, for as good of a pronunciation I can manage.”
“Not bad for one that doesn’t speak the language.”
“Well. When that turns from hope to prophecy, then I will be free.”
Kaylaan laughs. “You’re already starting to sound like her.” He elbows Arthak and walks away.
Arthak sighs. “....you don’t understand, that’s fine….” he says to himself quietly then follows.
Up ahead, Wintermaw stops and his ears fold back. Arthak pulls out his bow. There are the sound of hooves in the distance. Kaylaan also stops.
Kaylaan: “I’m assuming you hear that?”
Arthak looks at his hands where the bow is drawn and an arrow is knocked.
Kaylaan draws his mace. “What do you think? Friendly?”
“Only one way to find out.”
Just then an arrow sinks into the ground before them.
Kaylaan: “I guess there’s our answer.”
Arthak: “In a few ways.”
Roaring around the bend are three large figures storming up the path. They are strange quadrupedal creatures with bright green skin. The fur that coats their body seems to be natural. They also have a third set of limbs holding vicious weapons.
?version=f821a254a5a196522d69110640d40e9eArthak is familiar with an old faction called the “primals” in history. Creatures of nature that warred against the Horde and fell. They supposedly lived in secluded places, but were no longer supposed to exist.
Arthak chose to stow his bow and then meet the charge. His nodachi bites deep into the flesh of the leading creature. Another one lowers its pike and then charges at Kaylaan. Arthak brings his sword to intercept the creature, but it leaps over Arthak’s blade and strikes at Kaylaan.
However, Kaylaan is able to deflect the pike aside. It rears back in response, and its claws feet hit Kaylaan who staggers back.
Arthak is able to block the strike from the creature he is fighting, and then ducks out of the way of its claws.
The final creature, the one wielding a bow, fires off two quick shots at Arthak, but he is able to to knock them aside. Wintermaw leaps on the ranger and locks his teeth around its throat. It knocks the ranger prone and it crashes to the ground.
Kaylaan swings his mace around. “Oh. You’re going to wish you didn’t do that!” He cracks the creature in the face, and the weapon is coated in black, shadowy energy. The creature reels back from the blow.
Meanwhile, Wintermaw continues to rend at the warrior he tore to the ground.
Arthak once again slices into the creature he is fighting and it reels back in shock. It seems to be looking for a way to flee as it scans the battlefield.
Meanwhile, the ranger kicks the wolf off of it and strikes hard at Wintermaw. Over on a ridge, there is the blast from a horn as another ranger takes aim at Arthak and two arrows bury themselves in his back.
Two more start to storm down the path.
The warrior that Arthak was originally fighting strikes at him, but Arthak parries it just in time for another warrior to drive a pike into Kaylaan. It then rears up and kicks him in the face with its hooves.
The next warrior follows up and charges in behind its ally at Kaylaan. However, as it closes the distance, Arthak sees something materialize in the path between Arthak and Kaylaan. It’s an orc that is carrying a large, bright orange blade that then carves through the creature as it charges.
The orc’s skin is a pale brownish. The creature reels back, and he follows through with a second strike. He looks to turn to Arthak. Arthak catches sight of a tail.
“Help me cut a path through them. We must be gone from here before reinforcements arrive.”
The warrior strikes back at the orc, but he manages to avoid the brunt of the blow. Kaylaan is able to also duck out of the way of another blow, and he slams his mace down on one warrior and then spins around and strikes a second. His weapon once again shimmers with shadowy energy.
Kaylaan: “You heard our new friend. Lets get out of here!”
The ranger in the distance buries two arrows deep into the mysterious blademaster, who is not looking too good at this point. He looks back at the ranger on top of the hill for a moment, but refocuses on the warrior before him. He suddenly vanishes, and then reappears behind the one Kaylaan is fighting. He drives his blade into the creature’s back, and then vanishes again only to strike on another.
Orc: “Come now. We must go quickly!”
There is the sound of more hoofbeats in the distance.
Arthak ducks beneath the legs of one of the warriors and then drives his blade up into its chest before he continues through and severs the head of the one that was fighting Wintermaw. Wintermaw takes off and runs, and the group follows after. One of the ranger fires after them, but the arrows just knick off of Arthak’s armor.
Looming behind the horde of warriors seems to be a much larger version of them. It also charges down toward the fleeing group.
A few more arrows whizz past their heads as they storm through the pass. The sound of the horde behind the group is getting louder and louder as they catch up to the fleeing group. The blademaster says they won’t follow after a certain point, they just have to make it there.
Arthak tells him to lead the way, and he takes point. The pass narrows to a 10 foot passage, and a few more rangers train bows down at the group. The hail of arrows rains down and strikes at the group. Arthak stumbles, but he is able to force his way through the pain and continue. A few arrows also clank off Kaylaan’s armor.
In the distance, there is a point where the narrow passage opens up again and the snow stops at a very distinct point. In fact, it turns into green grass.
Arrows continue to whizz by.
As the group passes the threshold, the blademaster stops. He turns around, and the stampede of creatures stop right where the snow ends. The creatures look at the group, and then say something in a language that they don’t understand.
They then all turn and walk away.
Arthak asks the blademaster what that was about. He reveals that there was more than just him there, and then asks Arthak what he is doing in the mountains.
Arthak: “This place is pure. As free as corruption as it can be. I have need of it. Who are you?”
Orc: “A person who has nowhere else to live.”
“A common problem nowadays.”
“My name is Lantresor.”
Arthak stops and looks at him. “Lantresor? Uhm… the burning blade?”
The hand over the massive blade at his hip shifts. “The same. If you intend to do something about it, I will not go silently. I am called Lantresor of the blade for an important reason.”
Arthak: “Do you still travel with the renegade Samuro?”
“What is it to you?”
“Ask me my name.”
“I did. You did not provide it. Tell me why I shouldn’t cut you down.”
“My name is Arthak Saurfang. I think you held me once when I was still a babe.”
Slowly, the blade is sheathed fully. “You should follow me.”
Arthak: “Is he here?”
Lantresor takes a step, then stops. “Come.”
Kaylaan looks at Arthak for a second, but just follows the orc after Arthak does so. Lantresor leads them through a series of paths, and eventually, before them, there seems to be a small grove of pine trees even though it defines all reason. There is an individual among the trees, and there is a familiar sound of flint and steel being run along a blade.
There is an aging orc laying down with a long blade. Sharpening it as he sits amidst the trees.
It doesn’t take a lot to figure out who it is. Lantresor stops a few paces away from him. There is the gentle chirping of birds, the sound of Arthak’s heart beat, and the rhythmic scraping of flint along steel.
Samuro: “Well. Are you going to introduce yourself?”
Arthak: “I shouldn’t have to. You know who I am.”
Samuro stops sharpening his blade, then continues, “I am not a young man anymore. Many things, many people, I know. Some still among the living and some not. You will have to forgive me. Now. I ask again. Who is the young man who stands here before me, pretending I should know who he is?”
“The son of Talanth of the Burning Blade. Your Grandson, Arthak.”
Samuro sets his flint down and he reaches down into a small stone basin. He scoops it up with one hand, leaning back against a tree. One hand rests on his blade. He takes a deep drink of the liquid in the basin. “Oh. That is certainly a name, yes. And yet, it does not answer the question. That is your name and yet why should I be the one to remember it?”
Arthak growls, “Why should you remember my name? That’s a good question.” He then scoffs, “Maybe because you raised me until I was eight-- until you left? I imagine to come here? Why should you remember my name? I don’t know, fucked if I know. Kaylaan. We should leave. There’s... “ Scoff. “Nothing to be gained here.”
“Are you sure.”
“YES. I”M SURE.” Arthak snarls. “I am abundantly. Sure.”
“As you wish.” Kaylaan says, cooly.
Arthak turns to leave.
“Hoh. I am not convinced.” Samuro calls out. “A man worthy of being remembered, that is not the actions of such a man.” He takes a fucking sip.
“You’re trying to goad me into striking you.”
“Hooh. You have me mistaken. Clearly I am not the man you think I am.”
“No, I know exactly who you are. I know exaxctly who *he* is.” He gestures to Lantressor. You’re Samuro, formerly of the Burning blade. Killer of Draal. Father of Talanth of the Burning Blade. Grandfather of Arthak formerly of the Burning Blade, more recently of the Black Rock.:
“Are you certain about that? You think certain about many things, boy.”
Arthak scoffs again, “I’m certina of very little, but of where I come from. I’m certain of the name you’re called by. Coward and traitor are among them. The names I come by are the named Coward-spawn and Trailer-spawn. So if you want me to prove myself to you I’ll find a different. Fucking. mountain.”
aa“Many are they, in this place. If searching for a good mountain you are, I’m certain you will find it. Then again, I am not thinking a mountain is what you’re looking for.”
“What do you think I am looking for?”
“Hoo. I believe that’s exactly what you’re looking for.”
Arthak sighs. “Go on. You want to say something. Go on and say it.”
“It is funny. You claim to be Arthak of the Burning Blade, of the Blackrock, yet a boy I once knew of that name was much more respectful of his elders.”
“Hrrmph. That boy was until his elders *left*. It’s funny. He learned speed form the spirits of the wind, but you don’t find the speed to grab your only grandchild as you leave. Were you that wounded? The day Azuka Bladefury bested you, were you that slow?
“I was what I was, and you were what you were. And now we stand here, me, Samuro the Coward, and you, Arthak the Rude. My, how things have changed.” He takes another drink.
“I’m so rude as to swing a blade at someone who hasn’t drawn his.”
“Hoho, I may be old, but were you to swing your blade, mine would be drawn before yours would connect.”
“No doubt. Still, I won’t offer the offense. What do you want?”
“I want you to sit. Drink. Perhaps stop brooding. Your wounds will not heal unless you stop.”
“All right. Fine.” Arthak huffs.
“That is, unless you want to find another mountain. I’m sure one will make a fine grave.”
“Since you’ve bothered to recognize me, fine, this one will do. Only one mountain has my Grandfather, of course.” He sits down next to Samuro and takes a drink.
The drink is potent alcohol, not quite sure where that shit came from.
“Forgive me, I don’t partake.” He says, blinking at the potency.
Samuro nods, then drains the rest of the basin. “I only thought it was right to share with our new guests. Rude as they are. It is the last of it, after all.”
“Forgive my rudeness, old wounds heal slow.”
“So do new ones if you do not let go of it.” He pokes one of the puncture wounds with the basin.
“Some wounds are easier to heal than others. Regardless, you left when you had to. I try to keep that in mind, but a child is a child.”
“Yes, a child is. What are you now, I would ask?”
(“An edgelord.”)
“I don’t know.” Arthak says, stumbling over his words.
“Hoh, and once again, we have come full circle. Perhaps a mountain is not what you seek.”
“Hrrrg.”
“You may not know what you seek, but I very much know what I seek. Perhaps you can help me.”
“I would like that.” Arthak agrees.
“Good.” He hands Arthak the basin. “There’s a stream not far from here. Please, help to ease a parched old throat.”
“All right. In apology for my earlier rudeness, I will do so. Kaylaan, if you’re of a mind, you can stay here. Enjoy the rest, get to know some of my only surviving family.”
Kaylaan: “I won’t lie, Arthak, this is the last place I expected to attend one of your family reunions.”
“Hoh, there are many unexpected things that you will encounter in your life. This is the least interesting of them all, I can assure you.
WHERE DID MY TEXT GO. “If you want to know anything, and you want to decipher the answers.
Kaylaan: “That seems like more a challenge than I am prepared for.”
Samuro: “Perhaps. Perhaps not. We shall see. If you are seeking embarrassing secrets about your companion, however, I may have a few.” Samuro smiles at Arthak.
Lantressor smirks, watching from a distance.
“At least you’re recognizing who I am. I’ll take that.” Arthak says that.
“Now, it is up to you to recognize who you are, yes? Hohoho!”
“I guess so.”
Samuro: “Now run. Go. I’m not getting any thirstier.”
Arthak goes off and does find a stream. He fills the basin and walks back. As he arrives again, Kaylaan laughs in the distance. “Oh! That’s rich.”
Kaylaan is sitting next to Samuro laughing about something.
Samuro: “You return.”
Arthak: “With the water.”
“Good.” Samuro takes it and takes a drink. “Yes. This. This is exactly what I needed.” He hands Arthak the rest. “Here. You said you did not partake, but you must be thirsty.”
Arthak takes a sip, and then takes a long drink. It’s water, cool and crisp. He finishes the water.
“Refreshing, yes?” Samuro asks.
“Yes.” Arthak seems to sigh.
“Tis a shame.” Samuro says. “There is no more left in the basin. I’m sure your companion would have appriciated a drink as well.”
“Are you thirsty, Kaylaan?”
“I suppose, yes, I am. It’s not a problem though. I can fetch my own,” says Kaylaan.
Samuro holds a hand up, “You could, yes. But will he? That is the question.”
“You stay. I’ll grab the water.”
Samuro: “Now where was I, my friend?”
Arthak once again goes to the stream, fills the basin, and returns.
Samuro: “And that is about the time I had to retrieve his loincloth from the top of the gnarled tree.”
As Arthak returns, Kaylaan smiles. He takes the basin from Arthak and drinks deep from it. Kaylaan nods, “Thank you, Arthak. That was quite refreshing.”
“Hrrmp. My pleasure.”
“:Very refreshing, indeed. In our enjoyment from the stream, I forgot to ask my old friend.” He gestures to Lantressor. “A grievous error, no doubt.”
“You would have me fill the basin for all in our company, yes?”
Arthak, again, goes to fill the basin at the stream. He fills it up and then trudged back up the hill once more.
“And it was that time I had to change the elekk away before my young grandson was trampled underfoot. Yet, awakened from his nap, he was not.” He notices Arthak. “Ah, you’ve returned to us.”
Lantresor nods and takes the basin. “Thanks.”
“Thrice have others been thirsty. Thrice you have went to fill. Why?” Samuro asks.
“Because they were thirsty when I wasn’t. Because I wanted to hear the riddle at the end of this particular road.”
Samuro laughs, “Perhaps you know me better than I gave you credit for.”
“I remember well the years that you reared me.”
“And remember you should. You come to this mountain. You find us here. You did it because you sought something. But remember, sometimes the path to serve yourself is often found by serving those to your left and to your right. You did not find this mountain alone. Neither did I. It is best to remember that.”
“I haven’t forgotten.”
“Don’t.”
“I wouldn’t have survived without others. How do you think I avoided being killed after you left?”
“Because I left you.”
“You did and Varrok took custody of me. If he hadn’t, I wouldn’t have been dead.”
“And yet he did.”
“That says more about him than it does about you.”
“Yes, it does. But we know what they say about me. What would it have done to drag you through the mud with us.”
Arthak sighs. “I may have been outcast, but the choice was either I live as in outcast by those who cared or be spit on by the best our species had to offer. I try not to condemn your decision, I try, but I can’t say that you made the right one.”
“Perhaps I didn’t. But it was the decision that was made.”
“That’s true. What do you want?”
Samuro laughs.
“No. No laughing. No jokes, no riddles. What do you actually want?” Arthak’s voice cracks.
“I want to know what you actually want.”
“You want to know what I want?”
“You’re not the only one. Even gods want to know what I want, all of a sudden, I go from Coward-spwan to everyone’s focus of interest. YOu know what I want? I want to survive, see another year. I want to have some inkling of purpose that isn’t just spat upon by the legends that surround me, because I don’t know the approval or the expectations that our species has produced, but I know what their spit feels like.
I want to feel not fucking afraid all the time.”
“Hoho. Arthak. That will never happen.”
“I know, don’t you think I understand that. I have that cut into me. That’s a lesson trhat’s marked in my flesh. I don’t forget that. No, I can’t forget that.” He laughs, “I think, do you know what I want? I would like to make things that lasted. I would like to make walls that stay built. I would like to make things that looked beautiful, that stayed that way. I would like to feel… safe for a moment.”
“And what is stopping you?”
Arthak sighs, deeply. “Your shadow and my father’s.”
“Hoho.”
“And the fact, that despite everything, I want to be like you. I can’t forget the fact that while you-- that you left for good reasons. I want to hate you, but I can’t.”
Samuro reaches a hand out and lays it on Arthak’s shoulder. “There is a funny thing about shadows. You will never escape them. You will always look at them, always chase away to escape them, when all you had to do was step to the side.”
“I’m doing the best I can.” Arthak says.
“Good.”
“You left because of Bladefury. Yes?” “In a way, yes.”
“I want another way.”
“If I did not leave, I would have died.”
“Okay. And you didn’t take me.”
“It was not your sin to bear, not your decision to make. When I stood against the clan, it was not your fight.”
“You knew, though, where that would leave me.”
“I did.’
“For the sake of my mother, you owe my uncle thanks, because otherwise, I would have been dead.”
“Perhaps. Perhaps not.”
“Now I bear the scars. I have died if it wasn’t for Uncle Varrok. I don’t afford myself illusions. I would have bled like a stuck pig.”
“So you wish for me to come with you to apologize and thank your uncle.”
‘That would kill you. I don’t want that.” Arthak says, “Like I said, I want to hate you but… hrrrgh. Your reasons are well founded. I just want to know. I want to be able to tell him, from you, because he does deserve to know.”
“Very well. I will show him then. We begin tomorrow.”
“What does that mean?”
“You wish me for to show him. I will show him by showing you.”
“You don’t owe me anything. All you own him is affirmation.”
“Ho. And if you return to him, tell him you climbed a mountain far to the north and met your craaaazy grandfather. Would he believe you?”
“He knows who I am. Yes. He would, for better and for worse, he knows who I am better than you do. He can tell when I’m lying.”
“Very well then, if you wish, you can retrun back to your Uncle. Go back to your uncle and tell him h
“I did not say that.”
“You did not need to. I have failed you.”
“That’s true. Do you want me to forgibve you for that?”
“I did not ask for your forgiveness.”
“But you want me to prove myself for your lessons?
“I did not ask you to prove yourself.”
“There are so many expectations that you hold without saying, riddles that you want me to unravel. YOu see my eyes-- my mother’s. My first breath was her last. YOu raised me until I was 8 until you left. Other took care of me
Understand that I understand the reason for you left, I was helpless whether I wanted to be or not. I have no protection, I had no protection. YOu chose that. Thime. To make a stand. DO YOU WANT TO SEE THE SCARS.
All uncle Varrok could give me was life. I breathe now because of him. Every single breath I have, otherwise, I would have died at the hands of Rend, Maim or Garrosh. Or anyone of Blackhand’s =puppets.
I would have been dead on a spit. No wisdom you would have given me, because you LEFT.” Arthak breathes heavily.
Samuro: “Are you finished?”
“Yes. Fine. That’s all. That’s it. I’m a child and you’re a wise man. Lest I forget.” He pauses. “... Lest I forget.”
“There is something you are missing, Arthak. The answer that you seek, it lies before you”
“By all means, inform me.” Arthak barely says.
“Perhaps, but not now.”
“What if I want it now? What if that’s all I want from you, the answers you can give me now?”
“You seek comfort. You seek wisdom. Yet you reject it all the same. I could tell you three things, not one of them would you believe. Your spirit is in turmoil. And until you resolve that, the truth will remain blind to you.”
“You never told me how my father died.”
“And yet you know.”
“I think I know. Ner’zhul showed me something. I don’t know if it’s true or what he wants me to fucking believe.”
“I did not see. Not all of it. I only know that he was gone. What happened beyond, that spell that belonged to the warlock, I could not say.”
“I’m trying.”
“Trying will not be good enough.”
“No, it won’t. I know. It’s already out of my hands. I… I’m Coward-spawn. I am shit in the eyes of the entire Horde.”
There’s a sharp pain on the top of Arthak’s head. It’s coming from the stick that’s materialized in Samuro’s hand.
“That is about enough of that, I think. You are what you are on your soul. If you believe that you’re a coward, than you are a coward. If you think you’re a saint, than you’re a saint. If you think you are shit, than you are shit. But! If you believe, you will become. If you wish to become, than you must do.”
“There is no room to try.”
“No, I have nothing else but to try.”
“And that is why you have failed.”
“Socrethar is dead.”
“Yes. Did you try to kill him? No.”
“You want me to live in riddles, in ____. I have what I have.” Arthak rebutts his grandfather again. “I command a Warband, I try to make sure that no one is left behind, that no one is left more vulnerable. I protect the person I say that I can protect. That’s all I can do. Everything.”
“Then do it.”
“That’s what I’ve done. That’s all I’ve wanted.” Arthak whispers.
Samuro puts a hand to his ear. “My ears are not as keen as they were. What was that you said?”
“That’s. All. I want. To do.”
“Then we have found our answer! That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Samuro leans back.
“No. You could have asked me that at the beginning.”
“Be plain in your answers, grandfather”
“I could say the same to you. It took us nearly an hour to come to this. You have what you want, plain before you. What will you do to get there?”
“I’ll fight. That’s all I have. I’ll fight, unless you can offer me different.”
Samuro offers a smile.
“There is a time to fight, and there is a time not to fight. If you will, I can help you with the former of that category. If times were different, perhaps I could help you sooner. If you had not climbed this mountain of mine. If you did not seek a mountain of your own. Perhaps I can help you and your friend.
“So. You want to protect those you care about. You want to fight. As I said, we begin, tomorrow.”
“All right.” Arthak sighs.
“As you got water for me as an apology for your rudeness, consider this the same.”
“Alright.”
Arthak is able to rest and tend to his wounds.
The next morning, Samuro begins his training with Arthak.
The first day has nothing to do with fighting. The first day, Arthak fetches more water. For the people. For the plants. No swords are touched. It’s a combo of watering, wood cutting for a fire, and few other menial chores.
This continues for three days.
Kaylaan joins in, figuring that he’ll be here so he might as well.
By the third day, after the boys fetch water for a few days, Kaylaan finally speaks up. “So, old man. You said you’d teach us to fight… yet all we’ve done is cut wood, light wood on fire, listen to you prattle on riddles, and fetch water… and that’s it.”
Samuro: “Yes, that is true. Before you can attempt to master the blade, you must master yourself.”
“How does this help us master ourselves? We’ve only done errands for you?” Kaylaan pouts.
“Hoh, yes, and if you had mastered yourself you would not be complaining.”
TWO MORE DAYS HAPPEN. SAME SHIT.
When the boys awaken, Arthak’s katana is laying infront of him when he gets up. Kaylaan looks around, seeking something.
“Alright. Arthak, have you seen where my mace is?”
“I haven’t.”
“I left it right here. Did y- Your old man took it, didn’t he?” There is another katana laying beside him.
Arthak looks at the Katana. “Hrrgh. I believe *that* is your’s.”
Kaylaan picks it up. “Oh you’ve got to be kidding me.” He then storms off to find Samuro.
Arthak follows after the irate eredar.
Kaylaan: “Alright, old man. Where’s my weapon?”
In one quick motion, Samuro disarms Kaylaan and smiles. “Perhaps you should learn to hang on to your weapons more. Hohohoho!”
Arthak draws his blade and swiftly knocks Samuro’s out of the way. “Keep your blade away from my warband.”
“Hohohoho! You learn quickly, Arthak. Come now. Lets practice.”
Over the course of the next several days, they train with both Lantresor and Samuro. At first it’s mostly just seeing what they are capable of. Kaylaan is proficient, but clearly he does not use a sword too often. It ends up be an informative experience. They practice various techniques the Burning Blade once utilized.
Samuro: “The most important thing to keep in mind, is that the blade is a part of you.”
Arthak: “I am the bone of sword.”
“That is not enough! A bone itself cannot move. If you are the bone of your sword, it will not move. You must have the muscle to strike true, and the spirit, the meditator, to know what you fight, who you fight, and what you fight for. You are not the bone of your sword, you are your sword. It is not just an extension of your am, but an extension of your spirit.”
Arthak relents he can accept that.
“The sooner you accept it, the sooner you will be it.”
Two more days goes by. It’s rigorous, but good.
That night, when everything is finished, Kaylaan approaches Arthak. “Well. This is certainly not what I expected when I decided to come with you. How do you think the others are doing down there? With luck they are already done and wiating impatiently for us to return.”
“I can only hope well. They’re… doing as well as I expect of them, as well as they could be doing.”
“Well, let us hope that when we return we will have all of their smiling faces - especially Sorak - to greet us. I’m sure Remnii will be happy to see you unharmed.”
“Again, I find myself uncertain as to your meaning or intent.”
“I’m sure you’ll understand eventually.” Kaylaan laughs. “Needless to say, your grandfather is certainly a piece of work.”
“He’s what he is. And I’m what I am.”
“And then there’s me.”
“And then there’s you. And what do you want out of this?”
Kaylaan laughs again. “I’m not sure yet.”
“If you would like, I could offer a few ideas.” “By all means.” Kaylaan agrees.
“You… want something to live for. You want something to believe in. Beyond revenge. Beyond just killing the next enemy. I can offer you that. I can’t offer you success, I can’t offer you victory, but I can offer you the chance to build something free of the Legion, manipulation, and anyone telling you you have to do something. The moment you think I’ve gone to far or transcended my limitations, that’s the time when you can leave. I’ll never ask you to kneel, I’ll never ask you to bow.”
“You know… something tells me you and I are not so different, Arthak. Yes you’re right. I do want those things. So do you, don’t you?”
“To one degree or another.”
“Well. We both have some things to think about then, I suppose. I’ll see you at training tomorrow.”
Arthak agrees, and Kaylaan leaves him to his thoughts.
The next day Kaylaan hits training a lot harder than he had been, and he seems to be taking it a lot more seriously. A few more days pass, and every day he seems to get more devoted. However, the question is how devoted Arthak gets.
He puts everything forward.
After a few more days, when Arthak wakes up and heads to the grounds, both Lantresor and Samuro are sitting in meditation. An eye slides open as Samuro speaks. “Ah, you’ve awakened. Good.”
Lantresor tosses both of them their blades. “I believe it is time. Let us see what the two of you have accomplished. Let us see what you both learned. Don’t mind us.” He takes a step back, and smiles at the pair of them.
Arthak: “What is your game, grandfather?”
“It is not a game. Merely a test. Both of you have been diligent in your training. Let us see what you have learned, and what better way than to clash blades with a friend? Just try not to kill each other.”
Arthak: “With a friend…”
Kaylaan draws his blade. “Yes. With a friend.” He smiles. “I’m not going to hold back, Arthak.”
Arthak draws his as well. “Do you want this?”
“A friendly competition between friends. I don’t see what not.”
“And we are friends?”
“I think that’s inevitable. However, friendship won’t prevent me from trouncing you!”
Arthak goes to meet Kaylaan’s strike, and he hits. His blade almost seems lighter.
(Arthak now has the Blade Mastery feat)
Kaylaan smiles. “Not bad, but I said I wouldn’t be holding back, and I meant it!”
He uses a reaction to cast ‘’hellish rebuke’’. “You should know, Arthak, I’ve been taking a few private lessons. I hope you don’t mind.” His form starts to flicker, and he seems to be in more than one place.
Arthak charges in again, but Kaylaan’s form flickers and the blades slides through nothing. The eredar hops back, and the shadows around him seem to start to heal him an amount.
Kaylaan then darts in and misses, but it sets Arthak off-guard just enough for his second blow to connect. His blade seems to catch fire and transfigure into a raging inferno as he catches Arthak in the stomach. He smirks. “Not bad though, I thought you had me for a second.”
Arthak strikes out at him and connects. The pair are eying each other up, panting.
Kaylaan: “Alright then, one last go!” He swings and hits, but Arthak manages to stay up with pure determination. However, the second hit goes wide and Arthak gets him in the chest and moves as if to behead Kaylaan - but pauses right at his neck.
Kaylaan grits his teeth, but smiles. There is a gentle, slow clapping from Samuro as he smiles. Lantresor nods.
Samuro: “Very good. It’s clear both of you learned well. Rest. You will need it. There is something you must see. You had sought the source that stemmed the corruption from this area. Rest, and you will see.”
Arthak nods. “Well fought, Kaylaan.”
“Well fought, Arthak. Well fought indeed.”
The two rest for a time, and Samuro gives them the rest of the day and the following day.
“So, Kaylaan.”
“Yes, my friend?”
“Where do you stand at the end of this?”
“You know, I think that depends what we find at the end of your grandfather’s little journey.”
“Maybe. May be just my pride, but I would like some things not to depend on his riddles.”
“It’s funny. It seems many things hinge on his riddles, but on the other end, it seems nothing does…. I think he is starting to rub off of me, Arthak. We need to get out of here fast.”
“I gave you that option. I tried to save you.”
“Well, we are in too deep at this point to not see what he has found.”
“I hope it is something worthwhile. I want it to be. Is that.. Weak?”
“If your grandfather was here, he would probably say something along the lines of ‘it’ll be worthwhile if you make it worthwhile’ or something like that.”
“I don’t want his answer, I want yours. You can understand.”
“When we descend from this mountain, Arthak, it will be as friends. That is clear to me. Trust me. If I wished you any ill will I would have tossed you from the mountain a while ago.”
“I do not doubt you.”
“Perhaps, after the performance yesterday, I am doubting some things. However, I like to think that we may be friends.”
“I am unsuited for friends.”
“You really think that, don’t you?”
“Yesterday showed me that.”
“Very well. Perhaps we won’t descend from this mountain friends, but we will do it together, and we will have learned a thing or two.”
“We may be friends… just, forgive my hesitance with the word. I believe you capable of honor. I know. I’ve seen it. I just have a hesitance with the word friend. But you are honorable, Kaylaan. That much I can tell. Otherwise I would be dead.”
“And so would I, were you not. But, honor aside, something tells me whatever Master Samuro has planned for tomorrow, we will need our rest.”
“....don’t call him master please.”
Kaylaan laughs. Arthak sighs.
“Sleep well, Arthak.”
“You as well, Kaylaan.”
The night goes by with varying amounts of rest. The next morning there is a fresh catch prepared for breakfast. Samura takes a big hunk out of the meat.
Samuro: “Eat up. You will need your food for what we are about to do. Before you ask what that is, I do not know. There exists a cave, the source, where the bulwark against the darkening that is covering this island lies within. But the four of us will steel ourselves. I do not think it would be wise for you to come, my friend.” He looks at Wintermaw. The wolf’s ears droop.
Arthak: “I do not doubt your master will have strife a plenty to see you through.” The wolf looks happier immediately. Arthak asks if Samuro is joining them. Samuro says that he is, as more blades may be better.
Arthak: “Perhaps. But before we go, what was she like?”
Samuro stops mid-drink. “She… she was more than I deserved as a father. You.. you would have done her proud. That is a certainty.”
Arthak sighs. “I stood against Bladefury by myself. I didn’t win, but I lived.”
“That was foolish.”
“It may have been, but to her clan - what used to be our clan - I was filth anyway. I wanted to at least be honest about it. I wish I had known her.”
“Her spirit guides your blade.”
“I hope.”
“May it guide your blade in the trials to come.”
The rest of the meal is taken in silence.
“Come, this way is the cave. Within it, we will find the source.”
Samuro leads the group to it. It isn’t a long walk before they reach the mouth of the cave. It’s incredibly warm, and as they walk deeper, the heat gets more intense. As they continue to descend, it starts to wind, and the heats gets even more unbearable.
Both Arthak and Kaylaan feel it as sweat cakes on their armor, though Lantresor and Samuro seem to be alright.
Samuro tells them they are almost there. Before the party had entered, Samuro hands Kaylaan and Arthak and Lantressor waterskins, three a piece. He says they’ll know what to do when the time is right.
Arthak grumbles about riddles and Samuro smiles about them as per usual. T
Finally, the cavern opens up into a larger a cavern with streams of lava and one large pool of lava at the very center. The sound of bubbling and rumbling starts to get louder, and the cavern walls shake as the lava pool in the center starts to shift and bubble. As it does, the surface begins to break, and a massive fist emerges from it. It places itself onto the right side of the pool. A second fist emerges, and the two hands lift a body forth. It is Kor the Rememberer, a Magnaron.
/revision/latest?cb=20160105200834In a voice that shakes the cavern, it says, “You… will not… take….” it reels back, and the lava monster slams its hands down between the group. Everyone scatters and the fight begins.
Samuro rolls up first, he leaps off of a cliff face. As he does, a strange sound echoes through the air. Suddenly, three Samuros appear in the spaces next to him. All three of them raise their swords to the monster. All three swing, the first clashes off. The second one leaps up, jabbing the monster in the hand, leaping onto the fist. That Samuro now stands atop of the fist.
Lantressor moves, he begins to use a similar technique. The images seem to stay a lot closer. They’re not independent-- the spell Mirror Image is cast. As he runs across, there’s four after images of the half-Draenei.
The Magnaron’s face scans the crowd, its eye scans and locks on Arthak. He rears back and a glob of lava hurls into the air. The Magnraon’s fist swings down and hits Lantressor. It shatters one of his mirror images. One of the images makes an attack and then is able to hand a hit.
Arthak rolls up, assessing the battlefield, he sees a variety of ledges around the cave that he can use to his advantage. He hopes down to a lower level, and then starts heading toward one of the fists.
Samuro’s images begin to carve away at one of the fists. Rock and flesh slough off.
Meanwhile, Kaylaan seems to almost fade and blur as he starts to make himself less tangible and harder to hit.
However, the fist that the Samuros are attacking slams into the wall, but the images rush higher up on the creature’s shoulder and slashes at its face. The creature throws up its arms, and the images jump down and land on the opposite side of the crater.
The Magnaron hurls a fireball in response, but Samuro dodges out of the way.
Another fist slams into Arthak, and Samuro deals another several hits.
Lantessor jumps up into the air and vanishes in a flash of wind. He appears behind one of the fists. He cleaves his sword into the beast’s shoulder.
Arthak prepares to attack, but then Samuro shouts to him.
Samuro: “Strike with purity in your heart, and steel in your soul!”
Arthak rushes by Lantressor and runs up the beasts shoulder. As he does, he whips out the waterskin and drenches his blade with it before he stabs at the magnaron’s face, and permanently blinds it. He drives the nodachi into the eye, and the creature shrieks in pain. As he flails and wails about, Arthak is hurled aside.
By the time he lands, he is very close to the lava down below. The heat is overwhelming.
Lantressor lands nearby.
Kaylaan chugs a waterskin of spring water and tries to reach down for Arthak. “Arthak! Grab my hand!”
The steam from the lava clouds Arthak’s vision for a moment, but the orc is able to grab the eredar’s hand and he is pulled out.
Kaylaan: “Are you alright?”
Arthak gives him a toothy grin. “I’m doing well, thank you.”
Samuro continues his assault. Him and his images lay into the beast as they dance about it. Rock and lava is pouring from it.
In an act of desperation, the magnaron flails at Samuro and manages to clip him. It then opens its jaws and start to belch forth massive globs of fire.
As Arthak realizes he can’t dodge, he sighs and then chugs down as much water as possible. He feels incredibly invigorated, but the blast seems to super-heat his armor and it is now burning his flesh.
Samuro manages to get a clean slice on the creature’s shoulder, and its arm collapses as it releases a loud roar of pain. Lantressor then follows up and slices across its chest. The creature bashes him back, but he plants his sword into its fist to brace itself.
Arthak pulls out a grappling hook and hooks it into the beast’s eye socket. He jerks it forward, and as it lurches he decapitates it and the magnaron’s head goes sailing over him instead of crushing the orc. Lava spurts forth, and the creatures starts to sink into the lava once again.
As the combat comes to a closer, all three Samuros flick their weapons to remove some of the drying lava, and then the images flicker together and become one. He lays a hand on Arthak’s shoulder.
Samuro: “Well done, grandson. That was more than impressive.”
Arthak grunts. “Thank you, grandfather.”
Samuro: “A strike more than worthy of your legacy.”
Arthak: “Both sides of it.”
Samuro: “Hm!”
Arthak: “So, uh… what now?”
Samuro: “To be certain, I do not know. But I believe we found the source of why the grove was in such a way.”
Arthak: “Indeed.”
Samuro: “I’m curious as to what will remain.”
Arthak: “Likewise, but not my area of expertise.”
Samuro nods. “No, but that was a glorious battle.”
Arthak: “It was.” Arthak laughs. “It felt good.”
As Arthak looks back at his kill, he sees something in the eye that he opened up. Now that the lava has poured out, there is something bright in the cavernous hole.
Arthak: “What is… that?”
Arthak gestures toward it, and then walks closer to get a better look. Set in the cooled lava, there is a rough-hewn crystal. However, it’s odd. It seems to be a clear crystal, but there is something inside. It almost seems to shift as if the energy inside is reacting to the world outside. One second it’s a flame, the next moment it seems to dissipate into raging winds, the next moment it crackles with electricity, and so on.
Arthak: “Some sort of… what… elemental essence of some kind?”
Samuro also peers at it and crosses his arms.
Samuro:
Samuro: “There are legends that the great beasts of this world - the ogres, the giants, and great colossi that once walked this earth - it was said they were once brought forth from the fiercest of storms. That the powers of earth, wind, and fire lay within out souls. Perhaps this is some fragment.”
Arthak: “Perhaps… that’s… interesting.”
Arthak gingerly reaches forward to pluck it out. There is some resistance, but he is able to pull it from the ruined eyeball.
Arthak: “Hmm… interesting.”
Samuro: “Take it, grandson. That is your prize.”
Arthak: “Hmph. Thank you, grandfather. Not what I expected when I first set out to climb a mountain.”
He pauses, then looks at the others.
Arthak: “Kaylaan. Lantressor. Are you both alright?”
Kaylaan: “Oh, don’t worry about me. I wasn’t the one that almost took a swim.”
Lantressor: “Likewise. The beast attempted to strike me, but was unsuccessful. Well fought, Arthak.”
Kaylaan: “Just what I was thinking! Wait until we tell the others about the crazy shit that happened up here!”
Arthak: “I imagine they will have their own stories. But this was… something.”
Samuro: “I believe we have earned our rest.”
Arthak: “Indeed. Besides, I have some work to do, I think.”
Samuro: “Quite so.”
The group exists the cavern. When they do so, there are about four dozen of the creatures that had chased them when they entered the grove standing in the exit. Standing at the far end looking down at them is the larger one that is about three times their size. Kaylaan and Lantressor ready their weapons, but Samuro does not.
Arthak follows Samuro’s lead.
It continues to stare down, and then it opens its mouth. In an echoing voice that booms across the valley, it speaks.
“You. Destroy. Breaker.”
Arthak: “The thing in the cave, yes. It’s gone.”
It looks down at Arthak, and it slowly moves its head as it scans the rest of its people. As it looks to the left and then the right, the fara all lower their weapons, and then they walk away.
It looks back at Arthak.
Fara Leader: “Then we gooooo.”
Arthak: “Alright. Go in peace.”
It stares at Arthak, and then it too turns and leaves.
Kaylaan lowers his sword.
Kaylaan: “i have to say, that’s not what I expected.”
Arthak: “Me either, but thankfully it didn’t go as I did expect it. If it had, it would have probably resulted in at least me being dead.”
Samuro walks past Arthak with a smile on his face. He watches the creature leave, and he leads the way for their small party.
Samuro: “I do not believe if we will ever truly know what their intentions were beyond engaging that creature that you defeated. But perhaps it is for the best that we do not, for it is not our burden to bear.”
Arthak: “No, we have a different burden entirely. We each carry our own weight.”
Samuro: “And currently that burden is to get back to our camp. These old bones have seen enough action for one day, I am thinking.”
He chuckles.
There are about two days of downtime, and Arthak works on trying to forge something from broken shards of metal (those taken from Socrethar’s blade). The first day, there are mixed results as it’s hard to work with.
However, at the end of the second day, he has managed to finish it. By the time he does, it’s already pretty late.
By the time he gets back, Kaylaan and Samuro have gone to rest, and Lantressor is on first watch. Arthak sits down next to him and sharpens the blade.
After some time, Lantressor breaks the silence.
Lantressor: “Have you discovered the answer to your question that you presented to master Samuro when you first came up here? You’ve had much time to think. Much time to learn. I’m more than a little curious to see if you have gleaned more than just sword techniques and the art of killing.”
Arthak: “I know why he left. I.... my outburst when we first got here was…. I wasn’t expecting to encounter him here, of all places. I wasn’t actually expecting to see him ever again except as a head on a pike being paraded by Azuka Bladefury or one of her cronies. He did what he thought was best for me - for the clan, and well, he did what he thought was best.”
Lantressor: “I am curious what you would have done if you were in his position.”
Arthak: “Faced with the entire Horde after my head? And a grandchild who would have, well, most likely slowed us both down and gotten us both killed. One who had better chances at survival away from me. I would have probably done the same thing.”
Lantressor: “Then you are wiser than the boy who scaled this mountain. That much is certain. There is more of your mother in you than you realize.”
Arthak: “You knew her, of course.”
Lantressor: “I did. Were she still here, she certainly would have been my better. I had the privilege of training alongside of her. She exemplified what your grandfather was far more than I could dream to do. A Burning Blade to the end. Just enough with the perfect balance of bravery and suicidal courage. Perhaps she was not as wise as I remember after all. She did fall for your father.”
He laughs.
Arthak: “And don’t forget, she didn’t just fall for my father, she had me. A mistake made and compounded.”
Lantressor: “Perhaps the greatest crime, or rather the greatest tragedy, is she was not granted a death on the battlefield. But something tells me, were she here, she would care much less about that and much more about the safety of her only son. She was always fiercely protective of her family. Even distant ones. And were it not for her, I would likely not be here.”
Arthak: “What happened?”
“When I was very young, and she only slightly older, before I knew how to fight, kill, or defend myself, I suffered much the same that you did. There is little room for half-breeds. I had to carve my place alongside with the rest. My father, I did not know him, but he shared distant kinship with your bloodline, and so she stood up to defend me on more than one occasion. There is a reason that most of my kind do not make it to adulthood. Your mother and your grandfather are the reasons I have been blessed in such a way. That I have had the chance to make it. To defend myself. That is why I travel with master Samuro.”
Arthak: “You honor him. And my mother. And me.”
Lantressor: “And you honor them.”
Arthak: “I try… to not cry like a whelp.”
Lantressor: “I believe… you will not. I also believe the second watch is yours. I am not as old as your grandfather, but.”
Arthak: “Middle aged bones need rest too.”
Lantressor: “Wisdom in all forms. Just make sure you get rest too.”
Arthak: “Understood. Sleep well. Thank you for the conversation.”
He rises to his feet, and then goes to retire for the night. The rest of the night goes by with no problems. Samuro awakes for the final watch.
Samuro: “Alright grandson! Time to get your own rest. I daresay you earned it not by a few days ago.”
Arthak: “And according to Lantressor I am going to need it.”
Samuro: “Haha! We all do. If we do not get it now, we may not later.”
Arthak: “Truly spoken. But you’re right, rest will not be a luxury in the days to come. I will see you in the morning then.”
Samuro: “indeed.”
Arthak: “And, grandfather.”
Samuro: “Yes, grandson?”
Arthak: “About my outburst when we first saw each other. I’m… sorry. It was unworthy of the both of us.”
Samuro smiles. “Sometimes the greatest victory is one taken in humility. Apology accepted. And thank you.”
Arthak: “My pleasure. Anyway. Enjoy the watch.”
Arthak then rises to head off to bed.
When Arthak awakes, it seems all the trees in the grove have leaves that have turned brown, green, and yellow and have begun to fall. They were not like that previously. As he gets up and looks around, Kaylaan and Lantressor are nowhere to be found.
Samuro, however, is there.
Samuro: “Grandson, I trust you slept well.”
Arthak: “Yes, thank you. Where, um, where did the others go?”
Samuro: “They are out, but they will return soon.”
Arthak: “Ah… very well.”
Samuro: “Grandson. Come.”
He stands up and starts to walk. Arthak follows. He leads Arthak back to the stream. However, it’s dry.
Samuro: “It seems there is nothing more here.”
Arthak: “Was this… our doing?”
Samuro: “Perhaps. Perhaps not. Perhaps it was the creature we slew. Perhaps it was the creatures that left after its death. Or perhaps it was simply time for the stream to move on. Knowing is not our burden to bear.”
Arthak: “Everything has its end I guess. So… with the stream gone I imagine you and Lantressor will be moving camp.”
Samuro: “Yes. And I believe it is time for you to return to your friends. But before you go, there is one final lesson.”
Arthak: “What is it?”
Samuro: “Are you familiar with the traditions of the Burning Blade?”
Arthak: “I remember what you taught me when I was young, yes.”
Samuro: “Well, there is one thing that I never was able to teach you. One thing that it was best that you never learned, not until you were ready. But I believe that now, now, you are ready. When an orc of the Burning Blade is ready to become a true master of the blade, he must test himself against another.”
Arthak: “I see. A duel then.”
Samuro: “The purest expression of steel, and of soul.”
Arthak: “First blood?”
Samuro: “I believe that is all it will take, grandson. I implore you not to hold back, for neither will I. And so we will duel to the first blood, and to the last.”
Samuro slips his foot back in a stance, and draws his blade before him.
Arthak pulls out his nodachi and drops down into a similar stance.
Samuro: “It was an honor.”
The leaves blow down from the trees and drift between Arthak and Samuro. Arthak’s eyes narrow and he studies his grandfather.
And then they both strike. There is a clash of steel, and a slice. Both of their weapons have connected. The wind blows for a moment, and then there is a thump as a knee collapses to the ground behind Arthak.
As Arthak turns, he sees Samuro has dropped down to one knee and is bracing himself on his blade. There is a gaping wound in his side.
It looks fatal.
And then he starts to fall, but Arthak rushes over and catches him.
Samuro: “Well struck, grandson. I am proud to have met my end by your blade.” He coughs up blood.
Arthak pulls out a waterskin, but Samuro refuses and pushes his hand away.
Samuro: “Keep it. You will have use of it. When the time is right, you will know.”
Arthak: “You don’t… please I… I don’t… not again. Please not again.”
Samuro: “Oh grandson, worry not. I am not leaving you alone. I would never leave you alone. Remember what I taught you. Remember what you are and… who you are. For a Broken Blade can always be reforged.”
The grip Samuro has on Arthak’s hand loosens as his spirit leaves his body.
Kaylaan: “He’s right, you know.”
There is a voice from behind, and Kaylaan and Lantressor are standing watching with solemn faces.
Kaylaan: “You aren’t going to be alone. Not after everything we’ve been through up here.”
Arthak: “This…”
Lantressor: “You did him a service. Your grandfather was not the young man he once was. Time and sickness were ravaging his body. That stream was one of the only reasons he was still here, why we stayed here. But I see now it was not the stream that kept us here. It was so you could find us.” He steps forward and hands Arthak a rolled, black cloth. “A gift.”
Arthak: “I’ve already received so many gifts.”
Lantressor: “Then this one, this one will not be a gift. This one shall be a burden. One for you to carry, and not for you to carry alone.”
Arthak unrolls it. It’s a black cloth about twice as long as it is wide. On it is emblazoned a grey anvil with a blood-red blade broken across it with a forging hammer striking down upon it.
Arthak: “...a broken blade.”
Kaylaan: “And that will not be a burden that you bear alone. When we came up this mountain, i did so because I did not know what to do, what I wanted to do, but now that much is clear.”
Kaylaan draws his sword as he steps forward, and he brings his blade out in front of himself and offers it to Arthak.
Arthak gently lays his grandfather down, takes Kaylaan’s sword and drives it into the riverbed, and then gives Kaylaan the sword that he had forged.
Kaylaan: “ha.. It seems we are all getting blades here.”
Arthak: “Socrethar’s blade. It’s now yours.”
Kaylaan: “Fitting… the blade that betrayed my kin, Socrethar’s kin, will now cut down our enemies. Thank you, Arthak. Truly.”
Arthak: “What are friends for? Some things need to be broken before they can be repaired.”
Lantressor: “And a broken blade can always be reforged. I served your grandfather with pride, and if you will have me, I will serve you as well.”
Arthak: “You honor me. I have a sword for you as well then.”
Arthak removes his nodachi, flips it over, and then extends it to Lantressor.
Arthak: “You’ll have to get used to the weight, but it’s a strong blade. Or… no. Better.”
Arthak takes Samuro’s sword and hands it to Lantressor instead.
Arthak: “You stood by him longer than anyone. You deserve this more than anyone.”
Lantressor takes the blade. “You honor me, Arthak.”
Arthak: “I only offer what is your due, and what I think he would have wanted.”
Lantressor: “Then perhaps we should give him his due before we move on.”
Arthak: “Yes. Send him to the ancestors. Send him to those who have no doubt missed him, as we will miss him now.”
The three are able to find plenty of lumber in the dry trees, and can easily build a funeral pyre. As the sun sets after they build the pyre, Lantressor lights it, and the three of them stand around the pyre. Lantressor takes a step forward and unfurls a red flag. A whirling, orange blade slick with flames is on it. As the blaze catches, he lays the banner across the fallen body of Samuro.
He takes a step back to the solemn circle and joins Arthak and Kaylaan. The three watch the fire as it burns until naught remains but smoke and ash.
Arthak collects the ashes. As the sun sets, he returns and sharpens his blade. “Thank you… grandfather…”
As the wind blows, he can almost hear a faint laugh on the wind. Almost. Almost.
After some time has passed, Lantressor and Kaylaan step back to give Arthak as much time as he needs. He reflects there for a while, then he just stands up, and looks in whatever direction the wind is blowing.
Arthak: “As you freed me, I will free all of us. You have my word on that, grandfather.”
Then he turns and walks back to Kaylaan and Lantressor.
Lantressor: “What is our next move… chieftain?”
Arthak pauses. “Kaylaan, how many days have we been here? I… lose track.”
Kaylaan: “Well it’s been about… three weeks plus a few days. I imagine our friends are bored out of their minds waiting for us to come down.”
Arthak: “Well… then we should leave soon. But first there is one more task I need to see to before we leave here.”
Arthak pulls out the crystal from the monster fight.
Arthak: “Be ready to leave as soon as I have this finished, but I will work as fast as I can without ruining the product.”
As Arthak works the steel as best he can, all the ingredients going into it have made it rather hard to work with. It’s an interesting result. The bulk of it was made of black iron, but it had inlays of the crystal throughout to help strengthen it with an edge made of the crystal.
As Arthak is hammering the metal into shape, he pauses and sprinkles some of his grandfather’s ashes in. When it comes time to cool it, he quickly slices open his hand, puts a few drops in the spring water he has left, and then quenches it in that.
When he is finished, the edge is not quite as sharp, but it is very heavy. It’s magical in nature. On a command word, he can cause it to deal elemental damage.
He reveals his product to the pair of them.
Lantressor: “A blade worthy of the newest chieftain of Draenor.”
Kaylaan just looks amazed. “Now that. That’s a sword right there, Arthak.”
Arthak: “It’s the finest I’ve ever made. It has a little bit of him, and a little bit of me in it. I need to figure out a name for it. A sword like this deserves a name.”
Kaylaan: “Well we have the whole trip down to shoot some ideas.”
Arthak: “That we do.”
Lantressor: “Then let us make haste. I am sure you friends are most eager to see both of you are safe, that much is certain.”
Arthak: “It will be good to see them. Yes. Let us leave. Wintermaw!”
As Arthak steps forward, the two others flank him, and Wintermaw follows behind. And they start their journey back down the mountain
