Endless doubts cursed Aru’gals mind as he was alone in his old room inside the hollow mountain. Trophies of his earliest hunts decorated the walls, just wolf and boar pelts of beasts that took the wrong path north. It was Bruna who actually slaughtered a wyvern in his youth, not him. It was Bruna who was raised by great Khan Ara’Gash, not him. He was just a boy with an ambitious father, not the heir of the greatest Khan since the rise of Karn’Arak. A father and seer that as long as he remembered carried a strange hatred for the Khan and his family, a hatred that he went against as hard as he could. Maybe it was an act of rebellion, maybe he and Bruna actually shared a bond like brothers, but no matter what it was, for now his friend was gone. Off to the south to save his daughter from her aunt's mistakes.

A cold breeze started to wash through the mountain and brought the small Khan back to his duty. Slowly he reached for the bag on his belt. It was quite large and he was surprised that no one had noticed, yet maybe they just didn’t deem it worthy to occupy their Khan with such meaner questions. He sat himself on the ground while the dragonstone’s light above him flickered like a torch. Unusual, but he knew why it would. Ironic that the stones granted by their Master realised treason more than itself could these days.

Carefully as if it could break by touch alone he took the scroll from the back. It was cast in a pipe of leather to carry even more protection. Inside the leather were Dragonstones who stopped to shine. Back in Karn’Arak they still did but it seemed that the scroll's influence took its toll on them.

He sat down and rolled it out before him. No matter how often he had gazed upon it, his eyes always widened when he saw it again. Other than most orcs he understood the runes. He had learned to read and write from his father, and later in Karn’Arak by the aid of old man Gor’Mash, even learned the old tongue. More than that, he had travelled far and wide with Sha’Raph back when they were but riders. Not watcher and Khan. They travelled to distant lands in the south, so he would gather if their runes were different. He would try and read, he would listen and lurk like the hunter he was. Once he later read great Khan Ara’Gash’s words he knew he did well. “Every orc is strong, do not dare to think that will make you a difference. Only your head, and filling the emptiness that lurks inside it, will.“. And he did. Even before he had read those words and even with knowledge the Khans before him could have never dreamed off.

Now the last piece of knowledge laid bare before him. A dark promise written in an even darker tongue. Aside from the runes there were the paintings of wings that surrounded a pile of corpses. The promise of a storm that would consume all and grant one the last chance of saving the north from the cold. The birth of a new age, a new father of the clans.

So Aru’Gal told himself. Yet it was hard to believe. For the runes detailed the horror every creature that was inside the storm had to endure and he knew it would not just be his enemies whose screams would haunt him for the ages to come.

Behind the few pelts that were an excuse for his door a deep voice came “My Khan.” Gor’Mash’s voice came through “The clan is waiting outside.”

“Tell me Gor’Mash..” Aru’Gal answered, still lost in the terror of the scroll “Would you give everything to protect the mountain?”

“What kind of question is that?! Are you doubting me!?” he answered with anger but then obediently added “My..my Khan.”

“Everything! Gor’Mash. I said everything!”

First Gor’Mash answered with silence until he answered low but confident “I would not call myself a rider if I wouldn’t die for my people.” one moment of silence more until he continued proudly “Yet here I am, old and still riding!”. A bitter smile formed on Aru’Gals face while he slowly nodded. After one last glance at the scroll he rolled it up again and hid it in both the leather pipe and then the bag that hung from his belt, before he walked out of his room. Gor’Mash was not the only one waiting. A group of four riders then pressed their fist against their chest as he arrived. He quickly answered the same but continued to walk past them. They followed fast and proud while Gor’Mash, an Orc almost as small as Aru’Gal but far more scarred and old enough that parts of his still full and long black hair started missing, talked “They are down at the Mine, as you commanded my Khan.”

“How are they?”

Gor’Mash grunted in a dark tone before he answered quite low as they marched past a few other living caves “Your father is the most openly disobedient but the rest follows the Ire.” Aru’Gal shook his head, displeased by his father yet he continued “Do you think the Ire saw reason?”

“I think he is afraid, my Khan.”

Now Aru’Gal smiled “That must be enough for now..”

The other riders remained silent but followed the two and Aru’Gal knew what picture they made in their Obsidian armour and saw its effect as they walked the caves down the mountain. Those few that had remained in their caves glared carefully and from the darkness but all of their glowing eyes spoke of fear, even those that tried to mask it as anger.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

Once they were down, the tunnel slowly became bigger and made room for the bright white snow of the Valley. The old iron gate was still open and only a few hunters were guarding it while carving piles of leather.

They looked with a mixture of fear and respect and pressed their fist against their chest as a greeting. Aru’Gal nodded in return while the other riders returned their gesture.

The gate itself was decorated with many metal chains and the three holy beasts of the Frostsong. A gigantic horn that belonged to a legendary Yack of the valley. One half of a gigantic Sharks maw from the boiling sea in the north. And finally the still glowing piece of Obsidian that was blessed by the Dragon generations ago when it hollowed out the mountain, yet broken in two. One half on each side of the gate.

Greeted by the cold winds of the valley Aru’Gal stopped “Only Gor’Mash with me. The rest take your Wyverns and land around us.”

The answers were confused looks and then some angered grunting as the four returned to walk back up the mountain “A good climb keeps the fat away, boys! Hahaha!” Gor’Mash roared after them and made Aru’Gal smile for but a moment of nostalgia before he walked on towards the mine. It was not far yet still it felt like quite a way. Be if for the cold of the valley or the one from his heart, as the scroll's sacrifice felt so close. Yet Aru’Gal was used to the heat of Karn’Arak now and even though it was slowly fading it was still burning hot, and not like the snow filled Valley of his home.

Once the entrance to the mine was a big proud cave at a hill close to the mountain itself. The way towards the cave was already carved into the hill and made a long leading open tunnel that was surrounded by 8 gigantic dolmen. On them the names and stories of those that had gathered their Ore inside was written. The last one was close to being full when it collapsed and if time would have written history differently the clan would have made a grand feast when they placed the next one up on the hill. But then Mara’s betrayal ruined everything. At least that's what Aru’Gal thought. He thought it was her who collapsed the mine, who took the clan's chance of weapons and war and who betrayed him more than anybody else in the clan.

“She will die.” he said to himself as they arrived at the collapsed hill and entrance. Two of the Dolmen had fallen down as well and broken in half while the entrance itself was closed by all the rubble. The clan was gathered as Aru’Gal had ordered and some of them were already talking as to how they would fix it. Chieftain Nar’Ruuk a Shaman and two of the smiths talked eagerly with both their mouths and hands. All full of desperate Ideas, some angry words about Mara, and whispers about their Khan.

A little outside the crowd, closer to the entrance and alone, stood his father. No word was spoken by the blind man but his face said more than enough. He was unhappy, angry even and would not move a finger to aid the clan in their attempt to free the mine.

Slowly as Aru’Gal and Gor’Mash stood high next to the open tunnel the clan realised their Khan and the voices stopped. Looking up they waited for his words. Most with fear in their eyes, others with faces that were meant to hide such, but Aru’Gal knew they feared his anger, and rightfully so.

His father didn’t turn to listen to him but simply remained, facing his blind gaze at the collapsed mine. The biggest act of rebellion he could do by now. It hurted him in ways he didn’t know to see how pathetic his fathers silent act of rebellion against him was.

“See what she has taken from us!!” Aru’gal roared “Look at the Legacy that has been broken and the future that she has taken!” He pointed at the broken dolmen “She has taken your right to forge, your right to hand a weapon down to your children and your right for war!!”

Cra’Gal grunted in the distance and shook his head, earning the piercing angry eyes of his son. For a split second Aru’gals face of anger became one of madness but he defeated it as he took a deep breath before he continued. “Her brother will bring her to justice and we shall undo what she has done to us.” “But how?!” Cra’Gal yelled back and now turned to pierce his blind hidden gaze back at his son “Even if you let them Shovel night and day you will not have enough Ore for your army…the old mine could have given you that, but now” he shook his head “now your war has to wait”

“They fight with sticks down there!” the Khan roared loud and angry “It is your choice if you want to fight with wood or iron but the war will not wait!” He took his angry gaze back to the clan and saw that the Ire was about to speak but struggled for words. Before either he or his father could Aru’gal cut them both off “There is a way…and it will show you how dire things are, but until it is here, you will shovel and undo what your clansister has done!”

Again the ire was about to speak up just as the four riders landed and made the earth itself tramble under their big beasts. They splitted their landing spots around the open tunnel to watch down at the clan. Even those that tried to look strong shifted their feet under the watchful eyes of his riders and their wyvern and Aru’Gal saw how even the Ire once again understood the situation his clan was in and took a shovel.

“You want them to think of you as a monster?..” Gor’Mash’s voice whispered from behind and made Aru’gal think for a second. It was words like this that made him trust the old rider so much. Some said he even advised Great Khan Ara’Gash back in the day.

Slowly Aru’Gal walked down to the rest of the clan and took a Shovel as well. He nodded at the Ire and walked through the clan until he reached the rubbled cave. He looked at it for a moment before he commanded “Bring sacks for the stones or we will drown in them.” He yelled over his shoulder and started to dig. The Ire followed his example and nodded at the smiths at his side before he took one of those simple iron shovels as well. Soon the clan followed making Gor’Mash smile and nod while Cra’Gal’s desperation only grew.

“Fools..” the old Seer grunted and turned away. If someone could have seen his face, they would have seen more than anger but desperation. Mara’s sacrifice, her exile and now maybe even death, was the price for his destruction of the old mine. And he would not sit still to let it be for nothing.