Night consumes it all. The forests are quiet, not an owl or a bug can be heard. Except for the howling wind, carrying with it the white snow of winter, I kneel to grab a handful of the white sand covering the ground. Flashes of my time as a savage come to mind, a simple existence with nature, unburdened by dreams, goals, and trials.

Staying alive my only worry.

Then I smell cooked meat, I'm close.

Throwing the snow away I stand up and continue my way forward. The river rages far behind me, even in this cold its relentless current remains lively and thunderous. It was not easy to get to the other side, but with a makeshift raft I got here without getting too wet, while Lina awaits my return at the cliff that once almost saw my life end.

Covered with dark furs, a hood, and a short bow and arrow made as an experiment to try and train some goblins. I must transverse these woods much more carefully than ever before.

I'm taller than I used to be. As I walk through the barren woods I take a hand to my forehead, even if earlier that morning Dandrie smashed my head like a grape...I can already feel it nearly completely healed. Fear creeps up onto my very being, a sensation I had not gotten since the first time I woke up in this world.

The fear of feeling like you are not what you are supposed to be. I could have argued with Morgana to better explain what the Starblood would do to my body, but I know better than to try. Her priority seems to be enjoyment, and me knowing everything would spoil it.

"Fear? Not what you are supposed to be? You are exactly what you need to be"

The voice speaks clearly, louder, and more often than ever before. An effect of Starblood for sure, he speaks whenever he wishes, no longer pushed onto the surface by stress or bloodlust.

"I do not mean it that way. I am a goblin, I have come to accept this long ago. I don't even want to speak with you anymore, I know that to survive in this world I must be vicious, I will do what I must, so you can leave and never return"

"I can never leave. You have me tied on to you, piece of shit" The voice growls, and chuckles "I am your shadow"

Compared to before, it is almost as if he was right next to me. A voice leaning close to my ear and speaking words that poison my thoughts, but he does eventually grows quiet, and I welcome the silence.

I reach the source of the smell, chewed bones dropped on the dirt, leftovers from a soldier's meal. With a dagger, I make a small mark on the trunk of a nearby tree. Low enough to be soon covered by snow, and for anyone not carefully searching to miss it. I keep going for what feels like half an hour, until finally, I see the distant lights.

And I'm surprised to recognize the spot, with the woods dead and snow covering my sight, I would have never realized this is the fort I visited once when I gathered goblins for Makur. The surrounding woods have been felled for several dozen meters, but no walls have been made.

I hide away from a guard walking around the edges of the camp, and by the looks of it, there aren't many. Once he walks away I get a better look by coming closer.

The destroyed fort could never be used for creatures as big as the orcs, instead, they have set their leather tents on to poles and stretched them long above the ground, creating several spaces of snow-free dirt where they have set up campfires with cooking pots. The many poles have dozens of hammocks covered in embroidered leathers with many geometrical shapes,I see most of the camp must be resting.

I count heads, and I stop at two hundred knowing that there are several dozen more. This is a war camp.

With my goblin vision, it is easy to see the shrowded barrels and weapon stands, even on this moonless night. I see several lances, long axes, and javelins. A fully armed group of soldiers lets me get a good glance at their armor.

Conical-shaped helmets of what I can only describe as misty metal, with white and darker spots smeared across the surface of armor and weapons. With puffy brown fur falling onto the steel shoulder pads of the men, their faces are hidden behind a metal mask, mouths as well, for the necks of their chest plates raise above them.

Their cloth cloaks make it difficult to see clearly what they wear as protection on the body, but by glimpses, I can see their breastplates are ornate like the armor Makur hid in the ancient tower. With plated skirts that reach their knees and puffy pants, some green, others blue and yellow. Thick, heavy-looking steel boots too.

However, those orcs are few, and they hail from a spot of the camp where tents are more common. Round in shape and with white smoke rising from within. Meanwhile, the orcs sleeping or inhabiting the sections with hammocks are dressed differently.

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Much more lightly armored, they have furs instead of cloaks to keep warm. Their armor is a simple breastplate that exposes the stomach, and laminated shoulder pads that almost reach their elbows. Beneath a mail shirt with a belt, and a leather skirt with embroidered designs of animals killing each other.

Like the others, they too have puffy pants, but their boots are mostly leather, with a single piece of steel at the point of their boots, or none at all. These orcs have no steel gauntlets, instead, they are made out of leather with a white cloth as decoration with squares and triangles in red, yellow, and blue. Compared to the heavily armed soldiers, these have no helmets, and in fact, the majority don't seem armed at all, likely not thinking they will see much action so far from the front lines.

I see then, that this is not a united force, but rather two parties that have come together. And the fact that the heavily armored orcs keep their distance from them, tells me that things may not be smooth between them.

But even if their armor varies in both form and quantity, they do not in quality. The strange mist-like pattern is spread evenly, and the blades of their weapons are truly unique. With a wavy pattern on them, as if the metal had been forged and given shape not by hammer and fire, but by the very currents of a calm river.

Soon, I have already inspected the entire camp, having given it a good look from all sides, surrounding it and finding the covered, but present dirt road that surely leads to further camps or the main invading force. I decide its better to not risk going further, since if the need to escape arose, I would be trapped in the middle of two large forces.

I also see the servants of this camp, and the first thought that comes to mind is that they are a great opportunity.

Hobgoblins. Barely dressed enough to prevent hypothermia, they carry around buckets of water, or sit down to clean and sharpen the weapons of their masters. Poorly fed, surely to be kept complaint and weak, but it does not hide the body and look of seasoned warriors. If I could raid this camp, or somehow distract the main force to sneak in and take as many slaves as possible with me...my war band would grow immensely.

"Carry those crates to the other side of the camp, we will bring the Hajaak there"

That shout, that voice...I search around until I lay eyes on him. Orokur.

Dressed with heavy armor from the waist down, his chest is exposed, with a large circular steel belt covering his stomach, I see depicted in it a fearsome beast with its maws open as if about to jump out and bite my head off. For a moment he looks just like Makur. However, gone are his two braids, he is now bald, with tattoos of waving patterns on each side.

The thick fur on his back makes him look even more imposing than I remember him. And in his hand, I recognize, Makur's war hammer.

He shouts at the servants or slaves as a group quickly rushes to obey him.

I can't believe he is alive! I thought Fogosh had killed him. Perhaps there is a way to avoid fighting? Surely, if I approach him and let myself known...no, that is wrong. It's been too long, would he even recognize me? And if he did, would he listen to me? It's more likely that he would demand my camp to be given to him, as well as the leadership of my men.

No, I can't speak with him until I have proven that I'm worth listening to. And a part of me can't imagine looking at him in the eye, after killing Makur...even if it was all a setup.

I have seen enough, it is already late. Turning around I make my way back where I came from, almost getting lost twice, with the ever heavier snow having covered the markings I made, at least I know the orcs won't be able to see them.

Time passes until I finally listen to the raging waters of the river. Lina sits at the edge of the small cliff, is it the need for sleep? Or an illusion of my worn mind? But I can see Fogosh stand there, dagger in hand, bloodied and dripping, his bronze piercings shining almost on their own.

Without noticing, I reach for the necklace I made and grasp the piercing I tore from his face. It fills me with anger. But soon the illusion disappears, and I see Lina stand up and reach for the spear with the rope tied.

After throwing it and letting me stick it on the ground I use the rope to reach the cliff and together we return to camp, a long walk still ahead of us, and in the few hours we have to walk, no doubt the sun will bless us with is warm by the time we reach the camp.

"What are we facing?" Lina asks grabbing her cloak tightly, the blizzard getting through even her natural fur "A hundred?"

"Three hundred, likely more" I reply and take a few steps forward before stopping, noticing she isn't moving. She is stunned, but once we stare at each other in silence for some time, she shuts her eyes hard and keeps moving forward "They don't know about us, we have the advantage"

"Do we have to fight them?"

"It will come down to it sooner or later, so I rather we keep our advantage and strike first" The walk grows silent for some time, and I use this opportunity to ask something that had slipped my mind for some time already "Why did you stay? Andrei is gone, and you could've gone with him"

"My place is with my people, I belong in the war band" She replies after a brief moment of silence, is she answering my question, or reaffirming her thoughts?

"I thought you loved him" My words have an effect, I hear her breathing in hard even with the loud howling of the wind that shakes the empty branches of the trees around us.

"...He left me. He didn't say anything and, I don't blame him. I hurt him"

"To defend me. Why?" I ask glancing behind me, her big eyes look away, then she shakes her head.

"You ask too much, I just did"

If she is not willing to answer, I care not to ask further. I let the silence consume our walk for some time, occasionally hearing her trip on a root or a rock. I'm amazed by how even if her feline eyes do see better in the dark than most, pitch-black darkness is still something only the eyes of us goblins can comfortably walk around.

"Hold on to the cloak," I say stopping and turning to face her.

She doubts it for a moment, but then reaches out and grabs my cloak, now walking closer to me. With her, behind my back, I chose paths with little obstacles.

"You will become my bodyguard, Lina" I command, not bothering to look back, because in a way, me saying it out loud is just a formality at this point and a long way still ahead of us, I speak once more "Tell me about your clan, Lina. About who you were, and who you are"