The Obsidian Road gleamed as it wove its way around the slopes of Mount Shadu'ul, the King of Mountains. One could climb the broken titan for a hundred days and not reach that barren summit, currently wreathed in winter clouds. The winds that swept the heights were brutal and punishing, depriving climbers of the breath in their lungs. Not even the powerful orcish adepts with their magic had ever sustained themselves long enough to reach the cracked summit, the taller portion of the peak projecting 30,000 feet into the sky. The greatest of the Black Summits, called so for their obsidian rivers and the death that haunted their peaks, Shadu'ul was a gorgeous sight off to their right as they wound their way along the broken land of the lower reaches, down in the treeline.
Rúna spent much of their travel staring up at it, enough that she almost lost her footing on the cracked obsidian trail, the only remaining sign that once fire had flowed down the great mountain's slopes in a river that entirely engulfed and consumed the cities once built on its slopes. They said Shadu'ul was lucky to have survived, as several mountains had detonated in the Revealing. Now their calderas held beautiful alpine lakes with crystalline surfaces that glinted in the light like polished glass. They were all frozen over at this time of year, of course, looping together like links on a great chain down the Jagged Coast.
The little group had already passed through the largest of those hollows, the Valley of Sighs. Geologically active in an extreme, it earned its name from the many geysers whose calls were caught by wind sweeping through the multicolored stones stained by geothermically super-heated pools. The wind's song became moaning then, like the souls of the sorrowful. It stank of brimstone worthy of the humans' fiery hell, but was stunning in its deep blues and reds, bordered by vermilion shallows. Several geyser launched themselves upwards while Rúna was in attendance, including a giant one called Sutur that dwarfed even Rúna's true form. The plume was so tall that it almost seemed as if a lake's entire contents had boiled upwards before crashing back down into the vast pool.
Chi seemed distracted as they passed through it, as fascinated by their surroundings as Rúna was. He had several leather-bound volumes in his pack that he filled with writing as they journeyed southward, jubilantly expounding on every discovered bug and even several different patches of moss, much to Thema's long-suffering annoyance. After nearly spending nearly an hour motionless in the grass to watch the progress of an insect that disguised itself as fallen pine needles, inching across the ground in its little dance, Thema finally lost her temper with him and let loose with every barbed profanity she could lay her hands on. He still seemed to smart from her rebuke, as they hadn't spoken in more than monosyllables since.
Rúna found the interaction terribly amusing. Chi was a fine companion, as far as she was concerned. He could tell a story for any piece of flora or fauna, though he called them by strange Eth names that seemed very particular to their shape and function. The pine-needle bug he called Six-Legged-Disguiser-With-Pine-Bough-Limbs with a suffix that denoted its origins in Ash Kordh, all in the Eth tongue, which was long and unnecessary to Rúna but charming.
He was still expounding on the genius of the gods' design as evidenced in such a little creature days later as they walked across the black glass dusted with snow, Thema and Terese moving in the lead with their eyes focused on the ground to avoid razor-sharp outcroppings. Chi spoke so rapidly in his native language that Rúna, as one who had learned it after her birth tongue, felt like she was drinking from a geyser.
"The orcs call them ash-korog," Rúna said with amusement as he stopped to recover his breath.
"Really? What does that mean?" he asked curiously, dark eyes fascinated as he turned to face her.
"Pine dancers," Rúna translated. It wasn't quite a full thought in orcish, as ash was a specific word. It referred to battle-dance, not the kind one had around a fire at a celebration.
"Fascinating," Chi said. "It is rather more elegant of a term, isn't it?"
"I prefer it," Thema said, speaking a full sentence for the first time since their fight. Her scowl hadn't faded, however.
The fire-speaker cocked an eyebrow. "Oh? Your sudden fondness for the northern tongues surprises me."
"It's shorter," the warrior said bluntly.
"Ah, that explains it." Chi saw Rúna's puzzled look and laughed. "She means she doesn't have to hear me talk for as long. You see, she finds my naturalist's fascination with the world to be a frivolous waste of time. She is a woman burdened by practicality."
Thema stopped and turned. "It's a bug. I fail to see why the fact that it looks like pine needles is relevant to our current business."
Chi sighed in exasperation. "Your mind is so limited."
"It is focused," the warrior retorted sharply. "Your mind is as open as a barn-house door and equally full of waste on the inside."
He laughed at that. "Is that your best, Thema? You were in better form earlier."
She bristled at that, leonine gaze fearsome, but said nothing. She turned on her heel and strode away, passing Terese an irritated 'tch' sound in her throat and her hands clenched into tight fists.
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"She seems displeased," Rúna observed quietly. She hadn't been around the little folk long, but that much was obvious. "She is going to hurt you if you continue."
"Thema is more roar than bite with me," Chi confided with a grin, chuckling a little when his sister glared over her shoulder. "If you want my opinion—"
"We don't," Thema said sharply without turning back to face him. She kept trudging ahead, muttering an obscenity under her breath.
Chi laughed. "She enjoys our little snaps," he stage-whispered conspiratorially to Rúna. "It gives her the opportunity to be cross and stomp around, which is all she truly desires in life."
"Chi!"
Rúna smothered her laugh with both hands. She was here to protect Terese, but it was very hard not to like Chi. She would regret it deeply if they had to cross blades. Then again, Rúna could appreciate Thema's presence as well. The southern warrior had her own beauty of spirit, even though she tried to keep it concealed behind walls of strict self-discipline. The few moments where she abandoned severity, once to gawk openly at the sight of Mount Shadu'ul beneath the dawn when they departed the thick forests enough to see the whole of it and once to help Terese cross the ice safely, one hand on the older woman's elbow the whole way. Thema tried hard to hide her wonder and thoughtfulness, but it was still there.
Even her grumbling at Chi was endearing, if potentially still perilous for the man. Rúna was quite certain she never wanted to be on the receiving end of Thema's fist even without seeing it swung. The woman moved like a great lynx.
The warrior led their way off the Obsidian Road into softer forest land, into a hollow among the pines that looked sheltered enough for a good campsite. The sun was already getting low, but at latitudes so northerly, that wasn't surprising. Ash Kord was massive and stretched into the Frostmarch, where all was ice and snow all year long and the sun did not rise during the deepest heart of winter. Stormhenge was near the border, just south enough that there were only a few such days and well protected by the blessings of the gods. Their eternal seasons were much, much milder than the world around them, contained within the storm-wall given by the Song of Dawn.
Rúna loved the cold. She had fond memories of playing in the storm with her father and mother as the great bears of the north. She knew how to dress for the weather, how to act and move, and the many lessons that harsh cold and altitude demanded on one knowing well. Poor Terese, Chi, and Thema seemed to struggle somewhat with the cold at night in particular. Daytime moving and sunlight seemed to keep the worst at bay, but trying to sleep in it for them was particularly miserable. They didn't have the hot blood that orcs boasted to keep them warm at night.
A branch snapped a short distance behind them, giving way under something's weight. Thema and Chi were too busy needling at each other as they set up camp to hear it, but Rúna and Terese had fallen back just enough to catch it.
"What was that?" Terese asked, turning around to look.
An arrow cracked against the tree next to her head, providing an answer clear to Rúna. She dove for the ground, knocking Terese down with her. At least it was only soft needles in a thick layer rather than rocks to break their fall. She turned her own dive into a roll, unslinging her shield in one smooth swing. She caught herself and came up with her shield on her arm, catching the next arrow in its flight. It broke against the metal center of her reinforced shield. "Stay low! Get to Thema and Chi!" Rúna shouted. She didn't have keen enough senses in the form of a human to know how many orcs were here, but they didn't seem friendly.
That wasn't what she'd expected. She ducked to her right when she saw the archer, his longbow just about to let another shaft fly. The arrow zipped by her left ear, almost close enough to pierce it. It was a shot that should have killed her, but her mother had made certain she could fight when targeted by archers.
"I do not want battle with you!" Rúna shouted in Orcish, her voice clear as a bell through the quiet air. It wasn't like the peoples of Ash Kordh to hunt without allowing a fair fight. Ambushes were one thing, but Terese was no warrior.
The first orc who stepped out of the treeline had a face painted with ash and colored with charcoal. They were funeral markings normally reserved for those on a quest of vengeance and their sight here made Rúna's blood run cold.
Orcs were large for the small folk. This one was near seven feet in height, his muscles rippling as he moved. Yellow, animal-like eyes gleamed in the fire's light that Thema had struck, reflecting the light like a wolf's. He wore hides instead of the wool favored by her own people. Iron claws glinted dully on his hands, worn as part of the fur of a great bear. The head of the beast still rested atop his, still bearing its upper fangs. Bone talismans covered his body, rattling softly against his chest with every step.
Rúna was no fool. She knew a shaman when she saw one. That meant that they were in danger of more than just a few arrows. "Please," she said desperately, catching the next missile with her shield.
"You walk with servants of evil," the shaman said, his voice a deep, growling rumble.
"I have done you no harm," Rúna said earnestly.
His craggy features hardened when Thema and Chi materialized on either side of the young giant. "We know you have come here as servants of the butcher bird, humans. We warned you to stay on your side of the Wall."
Thema gripped her spear tightly, ready for battle. "Chi, there are more than just him," she muttered. "I don't want to fight that many."
Chi put his hand on the strange, inlaid jar at his hip, fingers clenching on the sealed lid. "We came to retrieve a missing enemy," he said with a calm confidence that belied the tension in his stance. "Not to start trouble with orcs."
"Tell that to the Lord of Smoke," the orc said, lips curling into a snarl that bared both his sharp canines and his tusks, hyper -developed fangs jutting up from his lower jaw. Orc bites were vicious and punishing. The way this one looked sent a sudden fear of being devoured through Rúna. She knew of orcs as genial creatures filled with honor and good humor alongside their ferocious blood-rages. All she saw here was fury and venom. It didn't make sense.
"What ill have they done?" Rúna asked.
Thema glared at her. "We have done nothing except pursue the very devil you have been protecting!"
"And those you came with?" the shaman said in the language of the humans of the north, a midwinter cold in his voice. "Were they as well in their manners?"
Chi shivered slightly. "We are not their keepers or commanders, orc," he said.
"What have they done?" Thema said, her tone controlled. "If we are to die, let us hear why."
"They do what humans have always done," the orc shaman said, his animal eyes burning with cold fury. "They destroyed everything around them. Now we will repay in measure."