A terrible silence had befallen the nights over the Frostsong Valley.Too tired were the orcs to make any noise at night, too tired to sing or dance, too tired for tales of hunts and yore, too tired to fight back. Only the howling wind remained as a distant echo through the hollowed mountain. A constant reminder that the ancestors were watching.
Gor’Mash had seen many nights over the valley of his clan but never had they been this silent. Even in times of tragedy some campfires would remain and try to ease the mood again. But not anymore. The Khan had decided to rule with whip and leash instead of strength and wisdom, and the old rider hated it. There had been Khans before that were harsh, Ara’Gash who they called the mountain chief among them. But no one had ever sent his riders, all of them, against their own clan. There were those who fought against chieftains before, those who beheaded their watchers for the wrong word, but never did they force their will over an entire clan. Over fishermen and smiths, over herders and shamans. Every orc would always proudly answer a battle, but it was without honour to challenge those who were weak. Children were used in the mines now and even the elders were forced to dig.
Gor’Mash had become a rider for he saw honour in protecting those that could not themself anymore, to hunt down the strongest warriors of the south and take what was meant for the north, not to prey on the weakest of his own people. He had trained those that were still weak, those that wanted to become riders or those that were merely lost. When the man they called the beast lost his father he took it on him to train both him and the future Khan. They were good boys, proud as they should be and as stubborn as their fathers. Yet one was broken by the death of love and the other rotten by the very lack of it. He knew the boys well, yet once the goblin fever had them it was not on him to hold them any longer. Maybe he could have, maybe he should have tried and reign them in. But they were strong. One of them had the strength of the mountain and the other the mind of a wolf. And both the will of a Khan, even though it might have been lost on them over the years.
Gor’Mash sighed in a deep grunt at the old memory while he stood in front of the mine. The gigantic dolmen loomed around him and the entrance was cleared for use before him. It’s tunnels deep enough to be called a mine once more. Yet it was not enough for the Khan. He had left them plans on how and where to dig more tunnels. A madman's plans. Everyone who had taken a look at those plans knew that, yet still no one dared to speak. Such weakness, Gor’Mash thought.
He was awake while the sun was still far from rising and the night still without stars. Some would say he was taking watch, but he knew better. His thoughts were running thin and his fury was boiling hotter than it had in years. It was a fine deed to raid, to pillage and conquer but without honour to do such at your own clan. The dragon's fire in his eyes glared as he watched the mine. The damnable mine.
Aru’Gal had been wise to give Bruna his of all Wyverns, otherwise he would have acted even sooner.
A few riders flew above him. They had started to fly patrols and make sure no one was fleeing for the pines. One of the riders must have seen him, and pointed his beast down towards the mine. Whoever it was, he was wise enough to not land directly in the tunnel but nearby, and soon steps were crunching through the snow. As Gor’Mash turned he saw watcher Ur’Barck coming down into the half tunnel that made way to the mine. His eyes returned back to it and he huffed. His anger burning mind was not set to deal with the Watcher’s games.
“The nights are silent, almost at peace.” The watcher said. Gor’Mash was never sure if Ur’Back was truly a fool or smart enough to act like one. Still he responded in honesty and a deep old voice. “I don’t like it.”
“The nights or the days?” Ur’Back asked in a bold tone that forced the old rider's eyes on him.
“Careful Watcher. Our Khan wouldn’t like the meaning of such words.” He said and finally offered him attention. His eyes were eying him up and down and his mind was judging if his words could be spoken in truth.
Ur’Back returned the gaze just as seriously. His eyes were younger than those of the greying rider, yet they spoke the same tongue. “Yet you do…do you not?”
Gor’Mash considered his words and looked back at the mine. “I trained the boy that calls himself Khan now…I trained the beast that travels with him and fought alongside both of their fathers.” he started calm but fueled by fury. “This is not what either me or the rotting corpses that brought them into this world have taught them..” He shook his head. “At least for the Khan, I am unsure about the beast.”
Ur’Backs face became one of sorrow. But he said nothing. Gor’Mash looked at him again. “You were there with him when she died.”
Ur’Back nodded and still took a moment to speak. “No man should see their child fall.” He said.
Gor’Mash shook his head in agreement. “It is the way of war.” He answered. “And our Khan seeks more of it.”
Ur’Back sighed. “It was not the Khan's war that brought that girl's death.”
Gor’Mash had nothing to say. It was hard to see a man break but harder if you once trained that man. Everybody knew how much the beast was hiding his tears and only the grandest fools would have tried to use them against him.
“What do you think, Watcher?” he asked softly and nodded at the mine. “Will it truly be worth the effort?”
Ur’Back shook his head. “I don’t understand the tunnels he wants us to dig…”
“No one does!” Gor’Mash quickly continued, the fury in his old voice louder than he meant to. He shook his head and stared back at the cold open entrance. “Some of them do not even hold the mountain's blood! What point is there?! Does he think we need to hide underground when we have the mountain?!”
The old rider's fury had become louder and Ur’Back came a step closer to him. “Careful Gor’Mash…our Khan wouldn’t like the meaning of such words.”
The only answer he got was a huff in anger as the old rider's eyes returned to him.
Gor’Mash was tired of pretending, they both knew what they truly thought about their Khan so he continued. “That boy will be the end of us…” He said with a deep grunt.
Ur’Back remained silent. Maybe he was wiser than he seemed, but Gor’Mash was too far into fury to stop. “The other day he asked if I was willing to sacrifice everything for the clan..” he sighed and continued. “I thought it wasn’t much more than a young Khan doubting his men, but now..” He shook his head in thought before his burning eyes sought those of Ur’Back “Now I am not so sure anymore..”
The watcher glanced back as seriously as he could without a hint of emotion and a long silence was born between the two men.
Gor’Mash wasn’t sure if the Watcher was on his or the Khan's side, only that he had underestimated him. Their silence was broken as a voice echoed down the tunnel. “Watcher!” a young rider screamed down “You need to come, the shamans they..you need to come!” Without hesitation the old rider and the watcher ran back up the half tunnel and followed the young rider to nearby tents. An old man's wailing echoed from there over the valley while their heavy obsidian boots crunched through the snow. Tired faces came from their tents and looked around. Some of them filled with anger at the slowly gathering riders, others in fear of the old man's cries.
The watcher and Gor’Mash followed the young rider into a tent and found an old shaman gasping in fear while his eyes seemed distant. “Fire..” he whispered, shaking and twitching.
Ur’back was lost while Gor’Mash kneeled down. He knew the old man and put a hand on his arm. “Speak clearly elder.” “FIRE!!” the old man screamed once more.
Behind them Chieftain Nar’Ruuk came into the tent too. He looked strange without the clans yakcrown yet his concern was real. Before anyone could say another world another wail came from a nearby tent. This time a woman, just as old. After a moment a rider looked inside once more to report “Another shaman…she seems just as lost as him.”
All the gathered orc’s eyes became one of worry and Gor’Mash once again tried to take the old man's attention. “Elder! Please speak to us!” For a moment the old shaman's eyes locked with the old rider’s. He took his hand pierced into his eyes as they glared up more brightly than a darklings fire should. “The world is shifting…the fire has left its nest..” he gasped and leaned back as if he was in utter pain before he looked at Gor’Mash one last time. “It’s here..” Panic was seen in the old man’s eyes and soon echoed by fear of Gor’Mash.
Ur’Back commanded the young rider. “Gather the other shamans, maybe one of them can speak clearly!”
Without waiting for the watcher or the Chieftain Gor’Mash walked past them, left the tent and marched quickly through the snow to the other tent. Before he arrived there another cry of pain echoed from the distance. Another tent, and yet another shaman. He continued but stopped as they heard echoes of painfull cries from the mountain too. He stood in the centre of the small village of leather tents and slowly more and more cries and wailings echoed through the night. A young rider, Bur’Rack was leaving his own tent and rushed next to the old rider. “What is happening?!” he asked, clearly lost. Gor’Mash had to shake his head while listening to the many shamans pain as they echoed over the valley, gathered further while the wind screamed through the hollowed mountain alongside them.
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Thunder could be heard, yet no blue light shifted the night, instead a red glow appeared in the western skies. Ur’Back and Nar’ruuk left the tent and looked up once they were next to Gor’Mash.
“What is that?..” Ur’Back asked the Chieftain and Gor’Mash next to him. Neither had an answer. Clouds lightened by red lightning thundered above the west and all so painfully slowly came closer. More and more orcs gathered outside their tents. Soon more wailing was heard. More shamans in pain, not just the elders, but even apprentices. A song of pain that was sung for the arrival of fire.
Panic started to spread among the orcs and was forced even more into the Frostsong as a roar echoed over the clouds and the mountains. Deep and loud enough to make the earth shake. Even the riders ducked down by its sheer force alone.
Gor’Mash looked up in fear and awe as a dark gigantic shadow of wings appeared between the red lightning above the distant mountains.
Ur’Back surprised him for once as he commanded the riders around them “Bring the clan inside! Let them hide in the mountain!” He yelled and brought some of the riders back into their minds. “And try to ease the shamans once you are in there!”
“They won’t make it in time…” Gor’Mash almost whispered. His words gathered him a look of sorrow from the watcher. Ur’Back turned to face Nar’Ruuk with that realization. “Chieftain, let me ride you inside! At least you should be safe.”
Gor’Mash turned to face his Chieftain and old friend too. For a moment he thought he would obey and follow but soon the Ire became true to his name once more. “No.” He said calmly and looked up at the shadow in the sky once more. “If anyone should be here it is me.” He huffed, shook his head and stood proudly as he gazed up. Gor’Mashed smiled at the Chieftains words and looked up himself. The Shadow had crossed the edge of the west and was coming closer. He sighed. “We need to make sure that it comes to us and not the rest.” Gor’Mash said and looked at the Chieftain and the Watcher.
Nar’Ruuk nodded. “My horn.” He stated.
Ur’Back shook his head. “Will it truly be loud enough, Chieftain?”
Gor’Mash looked up again before his gaze returned to the two. “Not here, but up in the hall!”
Ur’Back furyiously shook his head “I just commanded them to bring the clan there!”
“Then they will have the right to stand with us.” The ire said with proud.
Gor’Mash nodded and looked back to Ur’Back. “Where is your Wyvern, watcher?”
Without hesitation Ur’Back got a horn from his belt and blew it. A wyverns roar was the answer. It was hard to make out between the other beasts roars yet it quickly came its way from the mine.
“You will come with us Gor’Mash.” Ur’Back commanded, surprising the old rider once again.
While they waited for the watcher’s Wyvern many other riders brought the Orcs of the Valley into the mountain. All though by now Gor’Mash wasn’t sure if it was truly a grand plan anymore. At least they would be witness to their Chieftains bravery.
Nar’Ruuk quickly gathered his yakcrown and the Frostsong horn from his tent, before Ur’Backs beast finally arrived. Quickly all three of them settled on it. A red Wyvern like any other, but a strong beast nonetheless.
While they flew upwards, the Shadow in the sky came closer and the clouds of red lightning struck dangerously close to the mountain now. As the shadow roared over the land again, the Wyvern almost went back into hiding. Only forced by Ur’Back’s will and the spiky chains around its neck.
Other riders used their beasts to gather the clan from the Valley and the last edge at the boiling sea. Yet all struggled to keep their beasts at bay. Some couldn’t ride them at all, for they freed themselves to dash up to the shadow. Lost in the red clouds once they came close.
As they arrived up at the mountain hall a lightning crashed the mountain top. Only avoiding them slightly. Fire spreaded where it crashed for a second and melted the snow. They could see how the western mountains were full of avalanches crushing down after enduring the same fate as the hollow mountain did now.
Still they flew inside through the big cave entrances. Once they jumped down Ur’Back couldn’t hold its reins any longer and his Wyvern flew outside and towards the shadow too. Now Gor’Mash was glad that his old girl was away with the beast.
Ur’Back looked after his Wyvern in sorrow before it was hidden inside the red clouds. Many of their mounts roared and screeched inside of it before the gigantic roar echoed over their lands once more. A few riders and orcs came up through the caves and to the mountain hall. All of them ready to fight. Despite everything, the Frostsong were ready to stand, fight and die as one.
Ur’Back held a hand towards the entrance and yelled at the riders there. “No one is attacking until we do!” They nodded and rushed and yelled below. The orders quickly echoed through the mountain and the clan was ready to follow.
Gor’Mash stood next to the chieftain and looked outside the grand opening with him. The big shadow inside the red cloud of smoke and lightning came closer and towards them. “You act with honour, my friend.” He said to him and they shared one last smile before the Chieftain got the horn from his belt. It was made of a grand Yaks remains and meant to carry the Frostsong over their lands. After a last breath he blew it as loud as a horn could be blown. Its deep roar echoed through the mountain and into their lands. The cold winds answered and stood proudly against the hot smoke that was coming. Some of the shaman’s stopped their wailing as the horn’s sound was heard and few of the elders even started to sing alongside it. A song of defiance, a song of wind and fury. A song of orcs and strength deep from their throats in the most ancient of tongues. A song that forced the ancestors to listen and the winds to answer. The Frostsong.
Pride was born inside the orcs once more. Both those gathered at the mountain hall as well as those down below in the caves.
Yet the approaching creature roared again. Its own song of thunder and roars answered by the Wyverns that started to follow its call. Red lightning struck and started to fight with blue strikes in the clouds above the mountain. The sky screamed as it answered both songs while the land was shaking under both of their might.
Finally the creature came close enough that its heat was felt even inside the mountain. Snow started to melt and the cold winds struggled against the hint of fire that was born from the giant before them. The orcs remained tense, many grabbed their weapons tighter, many swore on their fathers that they would soon earn their place among them. Some of the youngest, the children hid behind their parents and were promised it would be all over soon. And some of the elders smiled at the last chance of a warrior's death.
Finally more than shape was seen inside the redded smoke. Red scales and burning eyes that glared with anger yet they were answered by the orcs that stood in the hall.
The Chieftain, the Watcher and the old rider in front of them, they glared back. Ready for whatever doom may come.
Finally and with a weight that shook the mountain the Dragon landed, clawing its side. The stone next to its claws was melting together with the snow. Its gigantic eye glared into the mountain hall while its nostrils huffed smoke and sulphor into the caves. Before anyone could act it roared into the sky until it breathed a pillar of swirling flames into the fighting sky, ending the battle.
Its eyes returned and its booming voice started to shake the land while it drowned the song in the mountain. “Frostsong!” Many eyes widened as they heard its words. Some shamans started to pray while some riders started to kneel. “Your Khan tells me you struggle! That you fight among yourself!” It breathed a few times and for a second Gor’Mash felt hope inside his heart. Maybe the Khan and the Dragon cared, maybe this was the aid they needed to end this charade of power. Yet his hope was crushed as the creature continued. “That you have forgotten who allows you to exist!!” It roared once more and the wyverns that now made a cloud of red scaled around the mountain answered.
After its word its eye glared around the hall. Yet despite the might it had shown, despite the earth shattering power it commanded there was something in it Gor’Mash could not deny. Fear. It looked old. Its eyelids tired and half open, its pupils wide and darting for any attacker in what could only be panic. “We could beat it…” he thought and glanced over to Ur’Back. The watcher looked back. As always he was hard to read, but when he nodded he knew he saw the same. The riders eyes returned to the beast and Chieftain Nar’Ruuk, still standing tall right in front of them all answered the greatest of all beasts. “We heard that you want an army. The Khan said you needed it fast! That we need it fast. Our struggle it~”
“I DO NOT CARE FOR YOUR STRUGGLE, ORC!” it roared back. Gor’Mash was ready to take his axe into its eye. Yet if they would fight it, not here. “I do not care if you don’t obey your Khan but you will obey me!!”
Nar’Ruuk took a few deep breaths. Tired of being commanded despite his position he remained standing tall. “The Khan also told us you are ill.”
It was then that even the last orcs in the hall saw its eye widened. The beast huffed a few times, struggling for an answer like a child trying to explain, but Nar’Ruuk continued. “If that is so, we may grant you aid. You have carved this mountain and our land. It is only fair if we try to repay a debt our ancestors left open.” He made a bow but did not fall to his knees.
“Aid?” it asked in a mix of fury and fear. “AID?!” It huffed faster and a glow was born on its gigantic throat. “And here I thought only your Khan had forgotten who his master is!”
Smoke came from its mouth and it was ready to end the clan.
Ur’Back took a step closer to stand next to Nar’Ruuk. “And we shall prove that we are deserving!” He screamed, his words a plea. He kneeled down before he spoke further. “We know your old enemies are on the move, master. Let us take that honour for you and earn back our right to be!” His words were a dishonour to the clan and for a second Gor’Mash’s fury was cast on the watcher, then he saw that even while kneeling, Ur’back held his weapon tight and ready next to him. He understood and kneeled himself. Slowly the orcs up in the hall followed. Only their Chieftain remained standing.
“My riders seem wiser than their leaders!” The dragon roared into the mountain. Nar’ruuk sighed and kneeled down himself. The dragon smiled, showing its rotting teeth and letting the stench of its rot inside the mountain. It was the last proof to them all. Even if they would not fight it that day, not with the children and elders there, it's time was running thin.
The following days a new master was watching over them and the fury towards their Khan made way for fear towards the Dragon. But even though they kneeled, none of their hands left their weapons. Even if the Dragon would roar, the frostsong, would sing louder and drown its echo over their land.
Whatever words of truth their Khan might have twisted one thing remained true. One way or the other, the Dragon would die.