Aru’Gal was not big for an Orc of his clan. Maybe not even the most muscled. Some even said certainly not the smartest. Still he carried the grey dragon leather on his back, the sign of not but one chieftain but the master of the riders and Karn’Arak. The Chieftain of Chieftains. The great Khan.

The bright grey scale cloak clashed with the black of his obsidian armour that covered all but his face. Even though the smith tried to adorn it with runes and sharp edges most of it seemed more like loosely molten stone. Afterall Obsidian was hard to work on, and so the spikes that remained on his armour were not crafted by a smith but born by dragonfire. He never liked the armour, for him it seemed like weakness if a chieftain wore the greatest protection, but just like the Chieftains of the lesser clans had their ancestors sword or the Horns of the Valley, he was bound to this armour. It was tradition and he would endure it. And he did not deny that it was useful in battle.

The cave he and his visitor stood in was hot due to the burning lake that roared down the cliff in front of him. As he gazed into its flames below the old voice behind him spoke again.

“Please my boy…if you take it too far even more will leave.” The man that spoke was Cra’Gal, one of the shamans back from the Frost Song Valley and a man Aru’Gal shared more than a name with. Yet another father with great weight on his son’s shoulders, but Aru’Gal was never as concerned as the Darkling about lifting it. After all he and his Father never shared a profession, for he never intended to follow footsteps left behind by those before, even though he would be guided by their shadows. But there was still pride in their family. For as he was the Chieftain of Chieftains and his father was more than most shamans achieved. The blindfold over his eyes marked him as one of the greatest, for only the Seers were granted a vision deep enough, by land and ancestors, that their mortal eyes could not bear it any longer. Above his blindfold his remaining white hair contrasted his dark ashen skin that was laid bare for most of his still muscled old body. Like most that visited the ashen plains only his legs were truly protected by a leather robe that was adorned with the same chains of runes and metal that also hung pierced into the flesh of his upper body. He leaned on his staff that was made of the same obsidian that his son wore and adorned with small runestones that were dangling from it.

A deep and honest sigh escaped Aru’gal before he turned to the blind man before him. “What do you expect me to do, Shaman?” He took a few steps further to him. Even though he marched lightly the obsidian on his legs made it sound like a stomp. “The Arch Druid is planning something…a man wise as you will have noticed that long before me. More of his beasts that come from his tower, the Ogres are said to prepare armies, and the seasons have become harsher with every year. You know he will make his move soon and whatever it is, the dragon fears it might be final.”

The Shaman shook his head making all the obsidian runes and metal chains pierced into his chest cling against each other like bells. “Nothing is ever truly final…” He said but before he could continue Aru’Gal took another step towards him “Maybe for the Ancestors that is the case..but that makes us all the more…” He thought for a word as he held his hand on the shaman's shoulder.

“Mortal…” the shaman said with a warm smile and held Aru’Gal’s hand on his shoulder. “I am just warning you, my boy. If the south attacks, do you really want your own clan to fight you too?”

Now Aru’Gal shook his head “Nothing would hurt me more…but if there is truly war…” he held up his finger as if the old man could see it “Not battles..but war coming for us, then it is my duty to harden our steel and make the north ready for it.”

“Do not break the blade…” Cra’Gal said while his blind hidden gaze went into the dark.

Aru’gal grinned and patted his father’s shoulder before he turned to the burning lake once more. “If the mines are too much for one clan, then slaves could be a solution..”

Cra’Gal vehemently shook his head but his son continued “A few raids to the south, and we could bring them to the mines of the Valley..”

His old man stopped him before he continued “I will not see our mountains be tainted by their blood.”

A grin was born on Aru’Gals face “Not all of them are Werebeasts, shaman...and if you had to choose who to lose in the mine, a Druid's Pawn or a Dragons loyal Servant…who would it be?”

“Do not act wise on me, boy” The shamans blind gaze seemed to pierce directly at Aru’gal now. “I would rather spill our own blood than be so weak and have others do our honour.”

Aru’gal now pierced back at where the Shaman's eyes once had been “Then make them!” The shaman was taken a few steps back by Aru’gals words and his blind gaze seemed to not look at anything anymore. His lips moved but there were no words to say before Aru’Gal continued.

“One of my riders can bring you back..”

“Your riders?...” Cra’Gal raised a brow.

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“Go back to the Valley shaman..the clan is your concern…let the metal of Karn’Arak be mine.”

“Do not forget that you fight for the Valley not for yours~”

“I fight for the Dragon and the North, do never forget that Fath..” he sighed. “Shaman…”. Even if they still shared a name, their titles forced them to make a difference between a talk of family and one of duty. Yet another tradition Aru’Gal despised. The blind old man took a few steps closer to Aru’gal again. “No one doubts your honour, my boy…” Now he placed his palm on Aru’Gals shoulder even if his hidden gaze still pierced into the shadows “but we all fear for our clan..”.

Aru’gal nodded and smiled. “Soon…the dark days will be over shaman…” he brought his hand to the Shamans arm “I promise that…”

“And we all trust you, great Khan…”.

Aru’gal was about to speak again just as he saw the Shadow at the Caves entrance. A man he knew well, a man he shared blood and battle with but a man he was not allowed to greet with his name. It was hard to stop himself from doing such and a moment of silence went by before he walked past the shaman and towards the nameless darkling.

“Shak Aruk, my rider” he said and pressed his armoured fist against his obsidian chest.

“Shak Aruk, my Khan” The darkling answered with a wide grin and returned the greeting, pressing his burned fist against his bare scared chest.

Aru’gal watched him for a moment. “I know you wouldn’t have returned without a reason…” The darkling's grin became wider. “That is true my Khan.” he answered and took the scroll from his belt.

Aru’Gals eyes widened as he saw it, the hint of a smile was born on his face for only a second followed by eyes of disbelief. He knew what it could mean, how much pain was held in the very hands he exiled, and how much the fate of not only the north could change just because of this scroll.

“How…” he uttered before Cra’Gal followed him and made a sigh of pain.

“Whatever you have brought, exile…it is evil..” Even if the shaman's eyes layed hidden, his face was painted with pain while he came closer to the two and the scroll.

Aru’gal ignored him and took the scroll from the man he once saw as a brother. After he unfolded it his smile left.

“Is something wrong?” The Darklings' words were like distant echoes as he read the old runes. He saw the pile of corpses, and the wings around it. He read the words, some of them. A promise of spring, but born from fire and suffering. It was a lot to bear, but he slowly brought himself to words. “no…no…just not what I expected…”

Now Cra’gal came close “I hear the fires demand it’s destruction, they scream for it to be destroyed…”

The Darklings face grew more worried as he saw the shaman holding his forehead in pain. “There is a taint on it…even stronger than the rest of the southern sorcery…it is unnatural~” “The Dragon will decide.” Aru’Gal said. He wanted to fold the scroll again but the runes on it told him more than he ever expected. A greater chance than he had ever imagined possible, but also a greater price than anyone else would ever be able to pay.

Cra’gal continued “It shouldn’t linger here…”

The Darkling’s worries became a frown. “What does it say, my Khan?” he asked, but silence was the answer as Aru’Gal searched for words. It was hard to describe but even harder not to tell. He felt his heart drumming like it was in battle, by the promise the runes gave him and fury fuelled him by the price it demanded. “Victory…” he almost whispered more to himself than the Darkling.

“Listen to yourself boy!” Cra’Gal spoke again “You said yourself the Druid is planning a trickery and now I tell you this carrying the teint of his powers and you say it will be victory?!”. The Darkling became more nervous the more the shaman became angry. If an elder, a seer even, saw so much evil in but a tiny piece of parchment it must have been truly a work against the ancestors. “You think I would bring our Khan a ruse?!” He defended himself, but doubted his own words.

“I do not care for you, exile.” the shaman shook his head “But I do care when our grand Khan is gifted with something that carries this much vile spewing dark~”

“You are right, shaman..” Aru’gal said and folded the scroll again before he took a big breath. “You two will take a few others and fly for the east.” He smiled at his old battlebrother. “You shall take your name back, when the mountain sings again.”

The Darkling stood tall and proud and nodded at the promise, just when Cra’Gal disagreed once more “Chieftain I don’t think sending Riders to the valley would be a good message in these troubling times…”

“It won’t be one they like to hear” he turned to the elder, while he banded the scroll around leather on his belt “But it will be the one I shall give them.” He finished binding the scroll to him and looked back to the Darkling “You two will ride with the others. See how the clan is feeling, make them remember that we are here.” He turned to his father “I trust you will make sure no one will misread their stupidity as honour, shaman.”

“I..” the shaman's face had turned from anger to worry “I shall do what I can…great Khan” “Do more if you have to!” Aru’Gals words bellowed back “It would be a shame if yet another family was torn apart…” He looked back to the Darkling who nodded obediently just as the shaman did now. “In the meantime I shall see the Dragon, and take what it may think about this…scroll”. The shaman made no effort to hide his disapproval of that but remained silent. Aru’Gal only so slightly shook his head before he smiled at the Darkling. “I am glad you returned Brother…”

“I will set things right, my Khan…” he said proudly while he nodded back. Aru’Gal slowly came closer and put his hand on the Darklings shoulder. “I cannot call you brother again, yet…” he said and looked into the darklings burning eyes, as his own glared up “But once your sister is dealt with, my life will be better, for then I may again.” The darkling looked away at that “The thought of her angers me…”

“I know…” he petted his friend's shoulder. “Once you've earned your name again, I want you to call me by mine as well.” The shaman was about to protest but just waved his hand and turned into the cave. “It will be an honour…Chieftain of Chieftains…”