Olaf's dagger slipped under Erex's chin with practiced smoothness. Erex didn't even have a chance to suck in a breath before its edge pressed tight against his throat. Olaf's other hand was already gripped tight around his wrist, preventing him from even thinking about reaching for anything. Erex was terrified, wondering at the identity of this cutthroat? Olaf let the fear linger for half a moment before he said.

"I want you to remember this moment well Erex. I want you to understand how unfair it feels to be harmed by one of your brothers!" Olaf breathed bitterly into his ear. Erex clenched his jaw as he recognized the voice.

Olaf continued. "I see what you are doing, plying favors from the sorceress and the skal, but if you think favoritism grants you protection you are mistaken!"

"Why are you doing this? I have not harmed you?!" Erex gasped with confusion.

"You and I do not think alike. You are more like Briax, our so-called Skal. You choose to ignore our ways when it suites your own ambition! Someday I am sure; one of you will wish to harm me, if only to silence my objections!"

Erex swallowed. Olaf was frighteningly certain of his views, and yet, argument itself might be his only hope to save himself.

"How is is cutting a half-blind-Skalds throat a fitting challenge for a warrior?!" He croaked.

Erex felt the razors edge of Olaf's dagger cut into his neck ever-so-slightly as he tensed, wetting the steel with his blood.

"Only warriors deserve a warrior's death!" Olaf hissed. "Any Morg that seeks the power of sorcery is a coward and a deceiver! I speak this warning only once. On that day you would think to strike at me, remember that I spared you first!" Olaf says slowly sliding his dagger back away from Erex's neck, suddenly stepping away into the downpour without looking back.

Erex watched him go, suddenly too weary to continue drinking at the cook tent. All he wanted now was sleep and the chance to forget this horrible night ever happened. Thus he made his way directly to his tent and quickly passed out.

Kurg stomped around the camp just before dawn calling for morning assembly. It always mystified many how the helmed hulk rested so little; yet somehow always appeared each morning possessed with a cruel eagerness to kick his boot into any warrior who didn't rise to his orders.

Erex groaned in that first moment of consciousness when he half-expected both his eyes to open and see. Fresh stitches and a pounding skull rudely reminded him he was still half-blind and far from healed. Somehow he managed to summon the strength to stumble out into the pre-dawn twilight. Around them the rain had lessened to a mere sprinkle, yet there were still thick clouds looming above them.

"RISE WARRIORS!" Kurg shouted in his raspish deep-grunting voice. Rise they did, long-faced and dreary, nervously awaiting further surprises to come on this first new day in enemy land. As they stepped into line Erex heard a shout from the watchman posted nearby.

"KAPTEN APPROACHING!"

Weary faces shifted into confused expressions as their ships Kapten and his second marched behind the half-dozen Chivalan slaves he kept on board to work the oars. Each slave carried the remains of their supplies from the long ship upon their backs, the same supplies they were supposed to safeguard for the return voyage?!

"What's this?!" The warriors grumbled to each other before Briax emerged from his tent to address them.

"WARRIORS! Today is our first chance to try something new..." Briax began, stepping down the line gesturing at the approaching slaves. "These slaves will bait our enemies into an ambush."

"They'll flee given half-the-chance! They are all Chivalan-born." Olaf scoffed stating the obvious.

Erex felt his headache worsen the moment Olaf's voice rang out, settling into a throbbing pain that kept tempo with his own heartbeat. From the corner of his eye, he still noticed Belisheri's emergence from her tent, looking far more refreshed and at ease than the rest. Her Torok perched upon her shoulder as she strolled over, standing beside Kurg.

Erex noted that her eyes did not seek him out or seek to acknowledge him in any way, and that was fine by him. Erex wasn't so sure he wanted anything to do with her powers anymore, given how she met with demons in their midst!

Erex turned instead to watch the slaves approach, fresh whip-marks upon their skin. Each of their faces looked angry and determined; far different than the expression of abject servitude during their long voyage. Yes, Olaf was right; these battered captives were keen to escape. How could they not be, walking now on their own native soil after so many years of forced-labor abroad?

Erex wouldn't be surprised if they already attempted to escape on the march up here. Yes they were chained, but they still outnumbered the Kapten and his second three to one. As they drew closer he realized their number was down. There were only five slaves; one must've made a break for it after all.

Briax notes this, frowning as Hax, the Kapten, marches up before him and takes a knee. "Kapten Hax! You are one slave short!"

"Aye skal, that's true." The Kapten admits plainly. "He was whispering to the others in their native tongue and as I raised my lash to his back and he lunged for me with a sharpened shard of wood!"

"And this warranted death? A simple beating should have sufficed."

"Beggin-yer-pardon skal, but my gut feeling was the rest of em would've been on top of us quick if we didn't put him down!"

Briax shook his head. "Disobeying orders because of a 'gut feeling' is not permissible."

The Kapten swallowed. "Skal, I..." The Kapten starts to say an instant before Briax's fist strikes his chin and sends him sprawling. In fairness anyone set on one knee would have been easily toppled by such a blow. Erex expects this is just another bit of show put on by the Skal for the sake of keeping the warriors in line. This sort of discipline was what they expected after all.

Meanwhile the Kapten's second immediately lashes out with his whip at the slaves ensuring none take any pleasure watching their Kapten take a blow.

Briax raises his hand after a few strikes from the bloody whip. "Enough! Rise Kapten! See those supplies added to the stores in the cook tent and report back for further orders!"

"Aye Skal..." Hax answered rising from the mud.

As he and the slaves move over to the cook tent Briax searched the eyes of the warriors, eyes steady with all seriousness.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

"WARRIORS! I spoke of a change in tactics necessary to achieve an end no Morg has accomplished before; a colony for ourselves away from Morg Isle!" Briax repeated from his earlier address on the beach, pausing to let that absurd statement steep in their minds again. This time there was no outspoken challenge from the likes of Morul. Briax kneels down and rips a tuft of grass from the ground, clumps of dirt still clinging to the roots.

"Look how rich and fertile this soil is, absent all the grit and black sand that poisons ours! Imagine how easy it would be to raise crops and feed livestock here." He gestures with one hand. "Think of the forest less than a day's march due east. Imagine how fine a home you could build from such excellent timber."

Another warrior named Hol speaks up. "Lord Skal, the population of this island outnumbers our whole island by at least ten to one! How do you expect us, a single raiding-party, to preserve a colony here?"

"That is why I spoke of the need to make allies here who can shelter us. Remember also that we are blessed with the aid of a great sorceress!" Briax gestures to Belisheri, who nods deferentially as he continues.

"Chivalans outlawed arcane magic nearly a thousand years ago after the fall of their Khimeran overlords! There are none here now who can match Belisheri's brand of magic! I know more about these lands, customs and history than they do ours. This gives us tactical advantage and the advantage of initiative! Yet most importantly, I also know of an ancient hidden power that will make their vastly superior numbers account for nothing! A power that shall soon be ours to wield!" He states with a passionately clenched fist.

Erex felt his attention hooked by this last quizzical statement. 'A great and ancient power?' Is this what Belisheri was eluding too earlier in her tent? He wonders, noting how her eyes fixated for a moment on his as if to say, 'see I told you so'. Briax continued.

"I speak of awesome artifacts of the Org race! Items of such destructive force they could fell whole armies and level entire cities!" He says, voice rising to a fervor pitch. "These artifacts belonged to Eros' own ancestors! A thousand years later, we Morg have a chance to claim them in his honor!" He states shaking his clenched first in a show of determination and pride.

Erex was so entranced by Briax's oratory skill in that moment he even forgot the throbbing pain of his aching skull. Org artifacts! Skalds knew hints of their power mentioned by Eros in some of his private lectures many centuries ago. Queen Kari was rumored to know the artifacts quite well, yet her secrets were only shared in private with her own offspring and her cult of sorceresses.

If Briax indeed spoke the truth, such weapons could change the fate of the Morg race forever! They could colonize any land they wished. Who would dare oppose them? Yet for all its wonder, the possibility of these artifacts attached very uncertain questions. Where were they hidden? How would they find them? Who was guarding them?

Meanwhile, the warriors responded to Briax's promise of glory and destruction with raised fists of their own. This was a plan that finally started to show sense to them, never mind how outrageous. Erex had to admire how cleverly Briax transformed uncertainty into enthusiasm. He was a rare leader indeed.

Briax continued. "Until which time that we possess these artifacts, we must choose our targets carefully and minimize risks! W must avoid being cornered at all costs. We may never get another chance at this."

Hol makes another inquiry. "Lord Skal, where are these artifacts?"

"They are carefully hidden by a reclusive order of monks loyal to the ruling noble family of this region, the Mordhel family. Our search for them will begin at a small monastery on the boundaries of the CrookedTree forest."

The warriors grinned with delight. The church of Pentos was decadent beyond measure; their priests often wealthier than O'Skals. Such a monastery would hold many riches!

Briax continued, preemptively cautioning against any rash behavior. "The monastery will not be easy to attack. It is built much like a fortress. We must conceal our approach to catch them off guard. The first step in this plan involves an ambush of their regular supply wagons that pass along this road twice a month."

Hol makes an observation with a wary look towards Kurg. "It is not my intention to cast doubt on your plan lord Skal, but church property is often defended by well-armed clerics. Holy warriors like that are known to wreak havoc on raiding parties larger than ours."

"Quite true..." Briax acknowledges. "We'll lure the Clerics into an ambush with the help of our slaves. If we strike at them up close, with complete surprise, neither their armor, nor their spells, should keep our axes at bay!"

The warriors growled and cheered but Erex could not help but notice the frown of dismay on Belisheri's face. Though indeed she stood beside the Skal in a position of support, her expression was anything but confident. Even so, Briax would clearly accept nothing less than total commitment as he said.

"We must arrange an ambush so convincing they won't expect an attack until it's too late. The success of this encounter depends on that more than outright bravado. Each of you must remain still and silent as a stone until the order to strike is given, is that understood?!"

"YES SKAL!" The warriors shouted in unison.

Briax flashed a rare smile. "There is much preparation to be done. I want two pairs of you on scout duty watching the road in both directions, though the supplies are likely to come from the south. The rest of you will go about digging shallow graves near the road and fashion camouflaged covers for these graves out of roots, twigs, brush and shrubs. They must be convincingly crafted so our enemies won't realize what's hidden underneath until you're close enough to chop their ankles off!"

"YES SKALl!" They shouted again.

"See that it is done by sundown and I will permit an extra keg of Kvasa for supper!" Briax promised prompting a round of rowdy cheers.

Kurg shouted at everyone to disperse, selecting four of the fastest runners to serve as outlying night watchmen. Belisheri immediately returned to her tent before Briax approached Erex and asked him to enter his tent for a private discussion.

Erex felt his headache return to a painful state of normality as he followed the Skal inside.

Briax gestured to a seat at his small table. "Please sit!"

Erex did as he was bid.

"Would you care for some Kvasa?" Briax asked offering him a taste of their bitter domestic brew, made from fermented black bread flavored with tree sap, bitter berries and tart fruits.

"I prefer rum." Erex said surprising himself with a bold tongue, still somewhat delirious from the throbbing around his ruined eye. Briax regarded the ailing skald with sympathy.

"Fortunate to have an option! Much as I admit the taste is easier to stomach, Rum is expensive to come by. Vog must have invested a considerable sum in a personal stockpile before we set sail. Take care you are not spoiled on that pirates drink!"

"I hardly feel spoiled." Erex muttered flatly.

Briax nodded knowingly. "I am sorry for your wound. Belisheri asked to make amends did she not?"

"She did."

"I also heard about what you asked for in return. I commend you for your boldness."

"You do?"

"Of course, so far as I am concerned we are all here to challenge tradition for the sake of our own destiny and the future of our race. Do you feel you will be satisfied with your arrangement with the sorceress?"

"It is too soon to say for certain."

"I should tell you, Kurg strangled that hideous creature shortly after it maimed you. Yet now I see it alive and well? A curious thing; and yet, much as we might both wish to see it dead, Belisheri and I have also come to an understanding. I want your assurance you won't hold a grudge against her if this pact between you doesn't develop to your liking."

Erex took a deep breath. He was far from certain how he should feel about Belisheri, yet the hate he felt last night was replaced now with equal parts apprehension and fascination. Erex swallowed and agreed. "I will hold no grudge."

Briax smiled. "Good! I also need your help to keep up moral among the warriors." By his tone, Briax was clear he was only asking, not demanding.

Erex took a moment to consider his reply. "To be honest lord Skal, I am not sure I fully understand your plan? Why did you not speak of these artifacts sooner?"

"I waited until the time was right to boost morale before our first battle."

"You are sure these artifacts exist?"

"It would have been folly to attempt this venture in the first place if I didn't." Briax said taking a bitter swig of his Kvasa. "You must agree most of us had a very poor future back home. I say it's better to risk our lives here and now for freedom; rather than assured despair beneath the heel of the Morgons!"

Erex pondered this statement for a long moment and replied. "To be totally honest lord Skal, so long as Kurg is killing anyone who challenges your ideas while you harshly discipline anyone that disobeys your orders, this doesn't feel much like freedom to me."

Briax smirked and clapped Erex on the shoulder.

"Exactly!" Braix states matter-of-factly, prompting a confused stare from the skald. "Parceans have a saying, 'all means lead to an end, so long as the ends justify the means.' I make no apologies for my methods so long as our goals remain undone. However, the very fact you acknowledge the hypocrisy in my orders demonstrates the reason for being here. I was wise to choose you as our skald Erex."