Sounds of exertion and the occasional pained grunt sounded throughout the blood field. The air was cool, not yet warmed by the climbing sun and very few people were up at such an early hour.
Asha and Grommash were breathing heavily, their exhalation forming fading clouds in the fresh morning air.
With a look that only those who had known each other since they were born could understand, they rushed forward. Asha easily overtook her brother, sprinting across the uneven ground with sure steps. Her posture was low to the ground and occasionally she would use one of her hands to accelerate further.
Arriving before her target, Asha feinted low before launching herself upwards. The moment her feet left the ground, Grommash was behind her, following through on what would have been an ordinary feint.
Asha sailed through the air for a bare moment, before she crashed knees first into Lucifer's form.
She was impressed. When she thought of pincer attacks, she thought of attacks from the front and back, or from right and left. Not two warriors attacking from the same direction.
Such a maneuver would have been impossible back where she came from, but here even someone who was on the weaker end of the spectrum could show her such interesting things.
She smiled unconsciously. This world could teach her so many things.
With open palms she lightly caught Ashas knees, before softly redirecting them downwards. Ever since she accepted the path of the [Autokinetic] such movements became like second nature. Theoretically she knew how it worked and she had trained in wing-chun, but on earth it had never been very useful.
With a fluid movement she redirected Ashas force downwards, into her brother who was currently trying to kick into her knees. Too stunned to react, Asha crashed knees first into her brother's torso, knocking both of them to the ground.
Both landed in a tangle of limbs and dust.
Lucifer laughed uproariously. These two were always so much fun.
"What do I always tell you two?"
Asha and Grommash groaned while untangling themselves, before groaning like petulant children.
"Simplicity is strength!"
"Exactly. Now Asha! What sort of idea was it to jump into my face?"
"A bad one?"
"Exactly!"
"And gromm! A step to the right immediately after you left my Blindspot and you would have evaded your sister's body crashing to the ground on the likely chance that her attack had failed."
Both of the siblings looked sufficiently chastised for such a dumb maneuver, while excited to try again.
Before the next round of almost completely one-sided beatdowns could commence, the rattling of a cart put an end to their morning training.
Lucifer looked at the approaching group of incredibly muscular orcs pulling a wooden cart across the sandy ground, causing an excited smile to spread across her face.
"Ooh! The first batch is finally done!"
At the quizzical look on the siblings' faces she elaborated.
"Old man Daranturn asked the steel fists tribe to forge me a sword."
Just then the procession of buff orcs arrived before them. Leading the group was an uncharacteristically short orc. He was barely 1.8 meters tall, but he was wide as a barrel. He was entirely bald, with the skin on his face and exposed arms marred with hundreds of burn scars in various sizes. Despite the seemingly impracticality of it, he was still clad in a heavy black apron over his massive gut, also still carrying a hammer in his right hand.
The stout orc ambled over and stood in front of Lucifer. He held out his massive scarred hand for a handshake while keeping uncomfortable eye contact.
Never one to back down from a challenge, Lucifer took his hand and gripped it as hard as she could.
The two of them stood for a few moments, both pressing as hard as they could, before the short smith started grinning.
"Lady Lucifer, it's good to see you again!" He bellowed.
"It really is, master steel fist!"
"The design you spoke of gave me a bunch of ideas. Your prototype has been done for about a week now, but I just had to finish a few of the ideas. The other smiths and a bunch of the apprentices did as well."
With a wave of his meaty hand, a pair of younger orcs pushed the cart forward, showing that it was full of swords. All of them curved and single edged.
Lucifer noticed almost instantly that there were hundreds, causing a grin to stretch across her face. From swords that looked like katanas falchions, all the way to a kriegsmesser.
"Oh we are going to have so much fun!"
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Behind them, Asha whispered to her brother in a conspiratorial tone
"What's with the black sword she had? I haven't seen it in a while.
—----------------------
Close to the shamans tent was an intersection. It wasn't an actual paved road, just packed dirt from thousands of people using the paths daily.
In the middle of the intersection stood a massive boulder, half buried in the earth. Since it was a particularly wide street, and owing to the boulder's considerable size, no one thought of removing it. Usually it was a spot for teenagers to hang out, but lately a weird atmosphere had spread over the surrounding area.
A perfect sphere of black glass with a diameter of at least a meter laid directly next to the boulder. It had appeared a week ago, somehow escaping the notice of anyone.
Ever since then people had been avoiding their usual routes, mostly unconsciously. Kids no longer loitered around the rock, passerbys took different routes and even caravans of merchants changed their routes.
Those that for some reason crossed along the area felt as if they had intruded on something intimate, as if they entered a tent where their parents were getting busy.
Though none could tell where the feeling was coming from, as the intersection was almost entirely deserted, apart from the usual boulder and the glass sphere.
—-------------------
In the shamans tent the air was as still and haze filled as ever. The flame in the center burned a bit brighter and faster than it had just two weeks before. Some of the shamans noted the increased intensity of fire mana in the campfire, but chose not to comment.
The large tent was filled to capacity with orcs of all shapes and sizes, all sitting in a large horseshoe shape around the flame.
Nine different tribes with representatives ranging from chiefs to elders. Almost every elder of some importance was present. Except the chief of the steel fists who was curiously absent.
Dull chatter sounded through the tent as the gathered orcs talked amongst themselves, trying to keep their voices low.
At the edges of the tent stood the entire ceremonial guard, with two of them stationed at the entrance. Everytime an orc would raise their voice above the acceptable level, the ceremonial guard would turn their heads in the direction of the disruptor, quieting them down almost instantly.
Even if they did not speak, the people still felt Intimidated by them.
Slowly but surely the gathered orcs grew restless. They were all waiting for the shamans to officiate the meeting, but no one had seen Daranturn today and a large part of the other shamans was equally absent.
It took an almost insultingly long time, during which the gathered people of import began to feel insulted, until Daranturn finally entered the tent, closely followed by a congregation of shamans.
The chief and the elders of the golden teeth tribe scoffed at his arrival, feeling insulted at having to wait, while the chief hunter of the open sky tribe noticed a curiosity none took apparent notice of.
Daranturn was walking without his staff. Yes he still held it, but he was no longer supporting his weight with it. His back was noticeably straighter, and it even looked like his face carried a few less wrinkles than it did before.
As a seasoned hunter he was naturally a patient man, at least as patient as an orc could be, and so he kept his observations to himself. Though Daranturn seemed to notice his gaze, cheekily winking at him.
The chief hunter was taken aback at the incredibly unusual fire burning behind the old shamans eyes. He leaned forwards and put his hand on the chiefs back, conspiratorially whispering in his ear. "Something is different about Daranturn. We should stay back today, let the others play their games. I think something important is happening!"
The chief of the open sky tribe turned and looked into his eyes. For his chief hunter to speak such words, he had to have a good reason. The short eye contact was enough to know that his hunter was dead serious, and so he nodded curtly before turning his gaze forward.
Daranturn waited until the other shamans had taken their seats, until he took his seat at the central fire from where he could observe the gathered elders. All the while having an enigmatic smile on his face.
It took barely a minute before the gathered orcs grew quiet.
"I apologize for my tardiness, I overslept."
Daranturn giggled as if he had just told the funniest joke, before addressing the orcs again.
"I welcome you to the bi-annual clan gathering. As the summer months approach, I thank the ancestors that I am able to be alive for another turning of the season."
A murmured "we thank the ancestors" rolled through the gathered orcs.
"As I see no fresh faces among our numbers, I see no need to go over the rules anew. I invite the open sky tribe to lead this time, on account of the fact that dear Morok is going to retire from active duty. Chief open sky, you have our ears."
The open sky chief looked back to his hunter once again. Seeing the same sure look in his eyes, he decided once again to heed his words.
"Ever since the pillar of fire from within the wastes, we have been taking increasing casualties among the patrol routes. We need to lower the restrictions on those we allow to join. I propose-"
What followed were an arduous three hours of politics. The open sky tribe needed either more recruits, or more trainers. The steel fists were happy as they could be with their forges, but they wished for stronger apprentices. The golden teeth wanted more money. As they always did.
The tribes brought their problems to the gathering, in hopes of receiving help, or to accuse the other tribes of any wrongdoings. Individual crimes where a person from more than one tribe was implicated were handled by the shamans and gathered elders. Throughout the entire discussion, the gathered shamans were strangely quiet. Only those that had stayed at their respective clans' residences contributed to the discussion. All the while that strange smile stayed on Daranturns face.
When the three hours were finally up, the gathered elders thought the day's proceedings done. The elders of the golden teeth tribe got up, before the gathering had officially been closed, and made for the tents exit.
Daranturns voice rose over the light conversation that had broken out.
"Please sit back down."
Instead of acknowledging his request, they continued for the exit. The hunter of the open sky tribe was sure that he saw one of them roll his eyes.
When they were stopped at the exit by the two ceremonial guards though, they suddenly all turned to Daranturn with disdainful expressions on their faces.
"What do you think you are doing, old man?" One of them shouted.
A number of the gathered elders cringed at the outburst. The golden teeth had never been big on tradition. Every year they grew further and further away from the ancestors. For them to be this openly hostile to the head shaman, means they finally had enough of petty power plays.
With his usual calm voice Daranturn repeated himself. "Please sit back down." Although for a quick moment a dangerous glint flashed in his eyes.
The elders of the golden teeth began to puff themselves up, one even asked "or what?"
The other tribes watched the happenings with keen eyes. The political situation of the tribes had been rocky for the last twenty years, especially since the downfall of the Stoneskin tribe.
With a sigh Daranturn rose to his feet. The hunter could hear the words "misguided children" muttered under his breath.
Daranturn raised himself and continued rising. In the eyes of the gathered elders, he straightened up more than usual, but continued growing taller and taller. An oppressive atmosphere descended on the other orcs.
"I said-" with a mighty crash Daranturn smashed the bottom of his staff into the ground. "SIT DOWN!"
As his voice thundered through the tent, the standing golden teeth elders crashed to the ground, as if gravity had a sudden grudge against them.
The entire tent quieted down, everyone too stunned to speak.
"If you behave like unruly children then I will treat you as such!"
The chief of the open sky tribe had trouble keeping his mouth shut. For a brief moment he had felt the aura the old shaman emitted. Instead of the warm and pleasant grandfatherly feeling the old man radiated, it felt as if an army of orcs stood before him, ready to slaughter.
The fact that only the orcs of the golden teeth tribe were affected, meant that Daranturn had begun to control his aura. He was approaching the third leap!
Hundreds of thoughts shot through his mind at lightning speeds, about the implication of such a thing. Only the strongest of orcs had crossed the first, and he himself had been stuck at the last step of the first. If Daranturn managed to actually cross the third leap, the political situation among the tribes would be completely reshuffled.
As his voice resounded through the tent, this time without the promise of violence behind it, every orc turned his gaze to the head shaman.
"I have two important announcements to make! And I am sure some of you are going to enjoy neither of them."
The old man giggled again.
"The first is a matter that would have normally been resolved inside the respective tribe, but that is no longer an option."
Daranturn cast a venomous glance at the golden teeth representatives, before looking at the chief of the fire mountain tribe.
"Asha Stoneskin has completed her ascent to adulthood."
The tent was eerily silent for a moment, before Daranturns captive audience broke into shouts. Once again Daranturn silenced the orcs with a burst of aura, though this time it was markedly softer.
"Morok O'ktan of the open sky tribe is her witness. Not only is she at the precipice of the first leap, she has managed to control the red thirst."
Murmurs once again went through the gathering, though this time more of disbelief. The girl was barely old enough for her first patrol. Before the volume could rise above acceptable levels, Daranturn continued.
"As she has met all the requirements, Asha Stoneskin shall be made chief. She will inherit her father's position on the next day of Ancestors."
The audience broke out in whispers amongst themselves, keeping to their respective tribes. If the Stoneskin tribe were to reform, many things would change. Many of the chiefs and elders would need to give up heavily guarded resources, and having enjoyed the fruits of the labor of other people, they were naturally reluctant to give them up.
Just as an elder of the fire mountain tribe was about to raise his hand in objection, Daranturn spoke again.
"There will be no voting!"
Absolute silence.
For the headshaman to forgo the usual process, something had to be up.
"Even I would Not be able to stop the reformation of the Stoneskin tribe. Because young Asha has a patron."
Daranturn continued with a shit eating grin on his face.
"Now to the second point. We have a dragon in our city!"