To say that Schenk was overwhelmed by the situation and didn't know what to do would be a great understatement. He was trained for all kinds of things, but to console a boy after … this?

What could console a boy who lost his family and all his friends to the Bloodhand Tribe in the cruelest of ways and saw their remains right before his eyes?

Schenk was truly at a loss. He could only imagine what the boy was going through. He saw Faust as he was. A child who lost his parents. Schenk could only think of his dead son and young daughter and their faces should he and his wife encounter such a calamity and felt something he hadn't for a long time.

Empathy and pity.

The emotions washed over his mind like a flood through the desert. Schenk stood up with a sigh, knowing that he had to console the kid and get him away from the site and to safety.

He walked over to the boy and put a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry kid," Schenk said in a deep, emotional, and raspy voice that left no doubts in Faust he meant what he said. Schenk then continued.

"Whatever you feel right now is more than justified. You were lucky to survive, yet I don't know anybody who would want to swap places with you."

"No." the boy snorted. More time passed, and the night had turned cold. "I feel so… cold," Faust said and shivered.

Only now did Schenk notice the blue tint on the boy's lips. He was shaking. After all, it was a windy autumn night and the boy had spent hours outside with nothing to cover him but his working clothes.

Schenk also noticed the malnourished body of the boy and immediately ordered one of his soldiers.

"Agrippa. Bring me your coat. Now." He said in a calm yet demanding tone. Schenk had, in a weird way started to feel responsible for the boy.

The soldier brought over his long and warm coat immediately and handed it to his lord who took it and placed it around the boy's shoulders. Faust continued staring at the corpses. He hadn't looked up at all during their conversation.

After a minute he managed to finally look away and at Schenk. His face didn't show any emotion but desperation as he finally tore himself from the gruesome sight and jumped at the baron, hugging him tightly and sobbing.

Schenk was taken aback. He didn't expect this sudden change initially, though gradually understood it. The boy was hypnotized by the occurrences of the day before breaking it and finally letting loose. This, once more overwhelmed the man who simply hugged the boy and held him.

After what felt like a few minutes Schenk sighed. He felt his father's instincts more intense than before.

"Boy. What's your name?" He asked calmly. One could immediately feel the empathy in his voice.

And so could Faust who looked up and sniffled before calming down a little and answering:

“Faust."

Schenk considered something for a moment before continuing.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

"A nice name you got there Faust." He smiled.

"You're cold and malnourished. We need to get you out of here. Why don't you come with me to my castle?" he offered to the boy who looked up at him and only nodded before hiding his head in Schenk's chest again.

One of the soldiers, a veteran called Vitus, approached Schenk.

"Milord. Please let me take four men and bring him back to the castle before the rest of the group. The kid needs a warm fire and a bowl of Mirabella's stew. He reminds me of my son. I'll take good care of him."

Schenk can't help but smile slightly as his wife was mentioned.

Schenk looked at Vitus and shook his head.

"I will personally bring him back. The five of us will return ahead of the rest." He looks at the 13-year-old clinging onto him.

"Let's go, Faust. We will get you to safety."

Faust, still very quiet looks at the corpses and the burnt-down house one last time before nodding silently. Schenk then led him to his horse yet on the way there Faust stopped walking. They were standing next to the orc whose face Schenk destroyed earlier.

The teenager looked down at the corpse and the ugly face squashed under the baron's boot. For the first time of the day, an emotion other than sadness and lethargy could be seen on the boy's face.

Anger.

His eyes glinted, and his breath grew rugged. He clenched his fists and spit on the orc's corpse.

In his mind, it was boiling. What overcame his sadness from before was a flood of negative emotions and desires. Revenge. He wanted to eradicate all the orcs, vent his anger on them, and let them feel his pain.

Why did they have to take his family away? Never again would the boy feel anything but hatred for those wretched creatures, he swore to himself.

Schenk also noticed something changed in the boy's expression at that moment, but he only silently acknowledged it. After all, he had every right to be angry and vengeful. Besides, the baron also cultivated a deep hatred towards the orcs, more specifically the Bloodhand Tribe as they have taken away many of his comrades and friends over the years.

And if one took a deep look into the faces of all the other soldiers in the village none of their faces showed something different. They all shared these thoughts. Everybody had lost friends or family to the raids of the cruelest of orc tribes near the border.

Faust sat behind Schenk on his big destrier warhorse and held onto him as they rode through the night as a group of six. Schenk, Faust, the old Vitus, and three more soldiers accompanied them as they set off from the village and back onto the plastered streets in the direction of Vostrum castle.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

3 days later, Earldom of Vostrim, Rhodusium, Argorus Residence

The dukedom of Argorus was ruled by the family of the same name. Its patriarch, Lucius Argorus, a tall man with long black hair, tied behind his head, stood at a long table with a map of the entire dukedom on it. It was divided into 5 areas. Earldoms.

One of said Earldoms was called Vostrim. And its Earl, Lucius's son, Alexander stood on the other side of the table, both hands on the map, looking at the very south of his realm where one could see Vostrim Castle and Poplia marked on the map.

A red line crossed out Poplia. Behind Alexander, who was a youthful man with an athletic body clothed in a scarlet robe, stood a sweating Istvan. He rode as fast as possible to bring the news to Schenk's overlord, the earl of Vostrum, Alexander Argoros.

Said man had a deep frown on his face. "Eradicated…" he mumbled.

"An army of the Bloodhand Tribe…" he then brings his fist down on the table with force. His father, a broad-shouldered veteran and famous general also had a complicated facial expression at the grave news.

"Son, this matter isn't so easily resolved. We can't muster the resources to attack the orc tribes on their own territory… not with a civil war looming over us. Tiberius, that son of a bitch, hasn't made our life easier at all, he really holds a grudge over Antioch…" he sighed, yet a grin forming on his face.

Nearly a decade ago Tiberius Epicrotia lost to him in a dispute over the richest trade city in the kingdom. Antioch. It was a city on the very east of the kingdom, where the Dukedoms of Epicrotia and Argorus bordered the sea.

The city had been an independent republic before internal strife dissolved it. Both dukes contested for the rule over the city, but the old king, Aurelius the Wise, had given the city to his old friend and Marshall, Lucius Argorus. This had been the catalyst for the falling out between the former allied dukes.

The north of the kingdom featured another Dukedom west of Epicrotia, the Dukedom of Lagetaria. Another powerful Dukedom that allied itself to Epicrotia in the conflict through marriage. Both dukedoms are tight allies.