Old grobgorch. Know Your ENT: A Horde Story Old Orc Glorious Death

And now the good news. While Santa Claus takes snow baths in our Haddan along a long snowy path, through the milky way and through clouds, through mountains and ravines, along roads and off-road, I got there with great difficulty Old Orc... He turned to Messengers of the Gods and went for a walk around Haddan , having previously left through Azil message to Forum.

Attention! It's time to unsubscribe about your cherished desires, open your feelings, wish everyone peace and good again!

Write, dear friends, because at least once a year one should hope for a miracle. You can repent of your sins, and i'm sure you will be noticed because among Messengers of the Gods now there is a wonderful kind girl who is trying this World change for the better, and each of us is a piece of this little The world... If everyone becomes even a little better, then the whole World Haddan a will be better!
We are very glad that in clan list our clan comes first. This is just the case when the lazy Old Orc saw us first and looked to us at the light.
Described this incident, our dear Khan:

**—By filling in everything required documents The orc decided not to wait for the weather by the sea and to walk around the most famous guilds and clans in the city, to meet and learn the latest news. First of all, I went to the Order of the Holy Inquisition and was very surprised to see empty corridors, cobwebs and some half-drunk young servant. Having asked him about the reasons for this desolation, the Orc heard that they had dispersed these idlers for a long time and the grief of the punishers as unnecessary, because they received a salary, but they did nothing, they tried - as they had to, but they sent everyone to hard labor. A sad smile lit up the elder's face for a moment, and with a strange feeling he rubbed his wrists ... once he had to fall under the rink of the Holy Inquisition ... assigned to an important case. Grinning to himself once more, he walked out of this damned place. And he went to the clan castles. Much has changed there too. Most of the halls were empty. However, in the rest, life was in full swing. As it turned out, many clans united, became denser and actively developing, preparing for tournaments and other adventures that were regularly held in this world. Before NG, all this fuss subsided a little, the inhabitants were patching up their armor, forging new swords, magicians learning new spells. Another part of the players was in the field, extracting resources for the winter and for future improvements to their castles. At the door of one of the halls, the Orc stopped. A silver emblem shone on it with a fiery halo - Hourglass! And behind them, a glow blazed like a phoenix rose from the ashes and spread its wings over the symbol of one of the oldest clans of this world. Opening the door, Orc was struck by the magnificence of the spectacle. At the far end of the hall, instead of one throne, there were three thrones. On one of them sat a very pretty girl, the other two were empty. The people were busy with business. Or just chatting. Or read and rehearse a New Year's performance.

After talking with me, he learned the news, treated himself to tea with raspberries and tasted a delicious cranberry pie, because in the bar Haddan a there are no such delicacies. Orc gladly agreed to stay with our kind clan for several days, while collect the cherished desires of residents Starograd... Moreover, we have something to do. We have rebuilt a huge Lockwhere there are different Towers, where you can walk endlessly, and even ride it, like a sleigh around Haddan at because the castle is floating.

After recent events, namely after the announcement of the next expansion - Warlords of Draenor, many of you may be discouraged. The reason for this was the introduction of the Iron Horde into the history of World of Warcraft. This, and a number of other events, led to the creation of several Hordes. There is the Old Horde, that is, the original Horde that invaded Azeroth from Draenor. There is also New Hordeor, if it is more convenient, Horde # 2, which led by Thrall freed the surviving orcs during the Second War, leading them to the shores of Kalimdor. Along the way, they recruited Tauren and Darkspear Trolls as allies, and eventually joined the Forsaken, Blood Elves and Goblins. This Horde still exists today and is an integral part of World of Warcraft. At the same time, there was a Dark Horde composed of Blackrock Orcs and was under the command of Warchief Rend Blackhand and his master Nefarian.

During his tenure as Warchief of the Horde (New Horde, to be exact), Garrosh Hellscream of the Blackrock Orcs and Dragonmaw Oracms joins the Horde. But at the same time, his frustration with other races of the Horde grew: the Goblins were too greedy, the Blood Elves were too mercantile, the Forsaken (Undead) were too loyal to Sylvanas, the Darkspear Trolls were also very loyal to their Ox, Jin, the Tauren ultimately were also linked to their code of honor, and even killing Bloodhoof Cairne did not help him to change the New Horde, which only led to further alienation from the Tauren clan leader Bane, son of Cairne.

This led Garrosh to deliberately unite the orcs of Blackrock Spire and the Dragonmaw orcs (and any other orcs who swore allegiance to him personally). And thus, what Garrosh called the True Horde was born. This Horde shared many things with the Horde that Thrall led, namely Orgrimmar, which became the headquarters of the True Horde. Garrosh claimed recognition from every Ordin who ever served during Thrall's reign. In the end, the two Hordes clashed and Garrosh's Horde found itself too limited in its forces, considering that the Alliance also wanted to destroy at least this Horde. But this is far from the end of the Horde and we will have to deal with it more than once.

When Garrosh Hellscream escaped his imprisonment with the help of a group of loyal followers (including Warlord Zela, who was the leader of the Dragonmaw clan), he appeared in order to travel to the past - his homeworld before it was destroyed by Ner`zhul. and its portals. And before it became apparent, we knew that Ner'zul's wife Rulkhan was still alive; Akama is not a hermit, but a proud draenei Vindicator; Gul'dan appears to be planning to contact the Burning Legion and drink Mannoroth's blood first. Of course, Garrosh decided to make sure that Grommash Hellscream did not drink the blood of Mannoroth and, instead, by collecting the skins of the Lords of the Underworld, as well as using Gul'dan to power the superweapon that warps time and space, Garrosh and Grommash created a completely new a kind of Horde - based not on the demonic magic of the Old Horde, and not on the "shamanism" of the orcs of the New Horde. It was the Horde, created by Hellscreams and their allies in the era of industrial development, and enveloped in metalwork, soot and black smoke.

However, one of the problems of the Iron Horde is that Garrosh was moved in time by none other than Kairoz, and this was clearly not easy for him. Many of Garrosh's allies decided to follow to the hideout he opened. These included the goblins and many orcs who were at least familiar with the devices that made up the True Horde's war machine. In addition, these allies had an infinite number of dragons. The presence of Zela and the Blackfuse Company (English carefully!) Implies that the infinite number of dragons that brought Garrosh's allies to Draenor allowed the Iron Horde to gain access to various technologies.

The Chernoplavs company managed to create the Depot and other structures (it is likely that it was they who had a hand in Blackrock). The Iron Horde is the spiritual successor of Garrosh's True Horde. They use the same technologies and have similar races (first of all, orcs with enslaved gronns, then ogres and selfish goblins, which provide technological development).

Now, after a heap of text, we suggest you summarize:

• Old Horde - a group of orcs who drank the blood of Mannoroth and were united by Warchief Blackhand, and then Warchief Orgrim Doomhammer. Their goal was to destroy Azeroth. Secretly controlled by Gould'an's Shadow Council. This orc army nearly conquered the Eastern Kingdoms, but was betrayed by Guld'an, who, in his search for absolute power, betrayed them and was destroyed by demons in the Tomb of Sargeras.
  • Horde of Draenor - a group of surviving followers of the Old Horde, as well as the orcs who remained on Draenor due to the fact that Gul'dan trusted them, or they were too insidious for Blackhand. This Horde was destroyed when Ner'zhul used magical artifacts to open several portals to avoid Draenor's slow death, destroying it in the process. Many orcs chose to flee to Azeroth instead of sharing this fate with Gromm Hellscream.
• New Horde - was created over twenty years later by Thrall, son of Draka (be careful, English!) and Durotan, an orc raised by Aedals Blackmoore (be careful, English!) to become a gladiator and ultimately lead an army of orcs to help Blackmore conquer the human kingdoms in Azeroth. Instead, Thrall fled, reuniting with the orc heroes Orgrim Doomhammer and Gromm Hellscream, and began freeing the orcs imprisoned in the Eastern Kingdoms' camps. After the death of Doomhammer, the old orc proclaimed Thrall the Leader of his people. Thus, the New Horde is a direct descendant of the Old Horde. While the Old Horde was ruled by the Council of Shadows and Gul'dan, and corrupted by the magic of warlocks, the New Horde was more "shamanistic" even before Thrall met the trolls of the Darkspear and tauren Cairne Bloodhoof. These individuals have joined the New Horde, helping to complete their reincarnation from the legacy of the Old Horde. Ultimately, the New Horde completely rejected the Burning Legion, which went so far as to fight at the top of Mount Hyjal.
  • Dark Horde - served as a competitor to the New Horde. Founded by Rend (English carefully!) And Mame Blackhand, sons of the first Chieftain of the Old Horde, this horde consisted of members of the Blackfang Oskal clan, the Blackhand, and the Dragonmaw ( most of of the Dragonmaw clan, at that time, remained in Grim Batol), and served the Black Dragon in the war with the Dark Iron Dwarves and Ragnaros for control of Blackrock Mountain. Black Summit ogres, Smolderthorn trolls, and other servants of Rend and Meim were all members of the Dark Horde, and when Nefarian came to Blackrock he took control of the Dark Horde. Mame Blackhand died in battle with the Dark Iron clan. After Rend's death and Nefarian's defeat, Eitrigg and his son Ariok (be careful, English!) Will defeat their former clan and thus the Blackrock Orcs will join Garrosh Hellscream's New Horde, which will later be called the True Horde.
• True Horde- created by Garrosh Hellscream from equal parts of the Dark Horde (members of the Oskal Blackfang and Blackhand clan), the New Horde (any orcs who have sworn to serve Garrosh faithfully) and previously independent orcs such as the Orcs from the Dragonmaw clan of the Dusk Highlands (distinct from those orcs of the Dragonmaw clan who remained loyal to Rand Blackhand or those who remained in Outland and served Illidan), as well as some friendly goblins. It is difficult to pinpoint exactly when the New Horde ended and the True Horde began. Notable members of the True Horde, such as Garrosh and Nazgrim, were "one foot" in the Old Horde, and, as in the case of Nazgrim, might not even realize they were joining a completely new organization. The main difference between the True Horde and the Old Horde was the xenophobia of Garrosh's True Horde, its willingness to use dark "shamanism" to force or punish spirits and elementals to obey.
• Finally, Iron Horde- created by Garrosh and his allies, but led not by Garrosh, but by Grommash Hellscream. This Draenor version suggests that these orcs were the first to drink the blood of the demons and enslave the orcs of the Old Horde. This version under the government of Grommash arose thanks to the influence of Garrosh, who renounced blood and unleashed the paramilitary force of Mannoroth's industrial war machine, destroying it and entering the era of Orcish conquest.

Rain is coming. The grab gro-Dash paused, enjoying the sensation of droplets falling onto his wrinkled face. Once upon a time in his youth, cold showers plagued the orc, and now it may be the last rain of his life. Grab gro-Dash has aged. In the past, a wonderful warrior and hunter, he was now no good. The joints ached frequently, and a burning pain sometimes appeared behind the sternum - evidence that the orc's heart was worn out. And shortness of breath appeared when swinging even a one-handed sword, not to mention a heavier weapon. Grab gro-Dash was not expelled from the tribe. He left when the time came. The once black hair has turned completely white, as if dusted with snow. And the green skin has taken on a grayish tint. And several teeth fell out. Only the protruding fangs were the same as in youth. He did not take things. Gone, what was. He only took his faithful sword, a gift from his blacksmith brother. Why does he need things? Not needed now. Let the young warriors disassemble and learn to fight. The rain ended and Grab gro-Dash sat down on the ground, waiting for what he was looking for now. What he was looking for was not something that could be touched or sold. It is not sold or bought. He sought a glorious death. - Not that! It's not that! - grumbled Grab gro-Dash. Two days have passed since he was in search of, but not found, a glorious death. The orc was afraid that one fine moment the heart would simply stop beating, and death would be inglorious. But, as luck would have it, there was no one suitable to give him a glorious death. Some young idlers passed by, imagining themselves as adventurers. Grab gro-Dash knew such people well: they didn't really learn how to fight, but still there, give them glory. And wealth to boot. And they will not survive, they will fall from the first draugr or bandit. And the lone mage stomped past. From under a long robe with a hood, you can't see who he is, but judging by his height, he is an Altmer. His spells are strong, once he travels alone. Grab gro-Dash would not even ask him. Dying of spells? No, this is an inglorious death. It remains to wait. The legionnaires who were leading the captured Nord passed by. "Most likely from the Stormcloaks!" - decided Grab gro-Dash. But they don't give a damn about the old orc looking for a glorious death. - This does not concern you! - shouted one of the legionnaires. And they left, leading the slouched Nord with his hands tied behind his back. And Grab gro-Dash was waiting for his glorious death. But no one seemed to give a damn. Even the Thalmor, who stared at him with slanted eyes, but did not ask anything, but simply walked past, surprising the orc with their discipline. Days turned into nights. The sun hid behind the clouds, which generously poured these lands with rain, and the glorious death did not want to overtake the old orc. Only once did he hope to see the rebels. Nords are strong warriors. They can give a glorious death. - What do you want, orc? one of the Stormcloaks asked. - I'm looking for a glorious death! - answered Grab gro-Dash. - Nice ... What? - asked the Nord. The others burst out laughing. - Death! - explained the orc. - I want someone to defeat me in a real battle, giving a glorious death! The laughter died down. The nords looked at each other, and the interlocutor just twisted his finger at his temple. Then they left. The pain behind the breastbone bothered Grab gro-Dasha more and more often. An inglorious death awaits him. Oh, inglorious! But what is it? As if Malacath himself took pity on the orc. It was such an enemy that was walking along the road. Strong, self-confident Nord. Would he twist his finger to his temple like a rebel? But it was worth the risk. - Come here! - shouted Grab gro-Dash. But it did not work out in a commanding tone. Rather pleading. And the Nord didn't pretend to be deaf, to the joy of the old orc. - What do you want? - he asked. Grab gro-Dash could see it. Yes, he was not mistaken. The man looked about forty. A scar crossed his face. Typical nord with wheat-colored long hair and beard. And it is noticeable that he does not wear a two-handed sword for beauty. But the eyes ... Grab gro-Dash will remember them until his glorious death, those blue eyes in which anything is reflected, but not cowardice and evil. - I'm looking for a glorious death! the orc replied. - Nice ... What? the stranger asked. "Here you go! Now he will twirl his finger at his temple! " - thought Grab gro-Dash. - Death! - explained the orc. - I have lived a glorious life, and now I am looking for the same death! The stranger pondered. He knew a thing or two about the orcish way of life. Happened to visit Dushnik-Yale somehow. And his green-skinned friend, the blacksmith from Markarth, said something. But this was the first time he had seen an orc asking for a glorious death. Gorza didn’t tell about it. He did not ask, although he wondered why there were no old people in Dusnik Yale. It turns out that they all go in search of a glorious death. It's scary to imagine how many of them died without waiting for her. - Good! - agreed the nord. - I will give you a glorious death! Tears welled up in the eyes of Graba gro-Dasha. Tears of happiness. And the gray-green face lit up with a smile that people think is ugly. Grab gro-Dash was not mistaken when he called this man. This Nord is a skilled warrior, although he was inferior to an orc his age. Swords rattled, and men's cries were heard. The orc, despite seeking a glorious death, was not going to succumb to this warrior. And he did not think to yield. And he won, breaking through the chest of the old orc. The hornbeam gro-Dash fell. Blood flowed from the wound to the ground, but despite everything, a smile lit up the wrinkled face of the orc. - So that I fought like that in your age! he heard from the Nord. These words were like a balm to the soul. The sun did not warm the orc now. He felt his limbs freeze. But his face lit up with a smile until his body went limp and his eyes closed. He deserved his glorious death.

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Abstract (spoiler possible):

An old hermit orc named Grobgorh has lived in exile for many years. Suddenly, a man with a little girl who escaped from the Inquisition invades his life. To help them, the old orc will have to travel a difficult path, gain companions and face the nightmare of his past. He finally had a chance to change something ... or at least get revenge.

[collapse]

Autumn has long reigned in nature. At the foot of the Northern Mountains, where the settlements of people ended, severe cold was already coming - the harbingers of a severe prolonged winter.

The autumn wind never ceased to disturb the trees, which sadly lost their yellowed leaves. Gusts of wind picked up the leaves that had torn off the mother's branches and carried them away, and then, as if having played enough, as if accidentally dropped them to the ground. Some leaves fell into the rivulet, which flowed from the mountains, and already continued its way along its course.

On its rocky shore stood a proud deer with stately branchy antlers. He came to drink cold water, and looked around to see if there was any danger nearby. Making sure that nothing threatened him, the deer lowered his head to the water and closed his eyes.

Suddenly something disturbed him, he started and became alert. A rustle was heard in the bushes behind him. He turned around, sniffed and smelled something that frightened him. He prepared to run, but it was too late. An arrow fired with a whistle hit him right in the throat.

The deer fell to one side. He wheezed loudly and blood poured from his mouth. But he immediately got up - instinct forced him to save himself, despite the fact that it was in vain. He hobbled along the coast and collapsed again.

Life had not yet left him, he lay and heard heavy footsteps approaching. His wheezing gradually subsided. With one eye he gazed into the gray, cloudy sky. But this sky was covered by the huge silhouette of his killer - this is the last thing he saw. A beautiful, noble animal, which became a victim of a hunter, expired.

The hunter was not a human, but an orc. He was tall and slightly hunched over, and his skin was dark green. He was dressed in some kind of rags, and dirty gray rags hung from a huge knobby head. This orc was old.

Pulling an arrow from the victim's throat, he loaded the heavy carcass of a deer onto his shoulders and headed to his den. For many years he lived in these places as a hermit, which is strange. Orcs, as you know, live in tribes.

The old orc made it to his quarters. It was a small cave, but there was room for both a couch and a fire. This was his home, which he had long considered family.

Dusk was falling. The orc lit a fire and began to butcher their prey. Orcs can eat raw meat, but this one always preferred to roast it well. Remembering that he had forgotten to check the traps and traps he had placed in the area, the orc postponed cooking and, taking his bulky bow and quiver of arrows, just in case, left the cave.

He climbed a low hill and looked around the area drowning in a ravine - hillocks, ravines, copses. And then mountains rose, some kind of clumsy, like a heap of giant stones. They were the North Mountains, low and old as the world itself.

The orc became wary when, unexpectedly for himself, he saw smoke rising from a shallow ravine into the starry sky freed from clouds by the night. There was little smoke, it apparently came from a small fire.

A strange phenomenon. Nobody stays in these places overnight. There are no roads here, and human hunters are afraid to wander here. We need to check what is there. And the orc went to where the smoke was coming from.

It really was a fire. The orc crept through the darkness, hiding behind tree trunks. Finally he got close enough to see everything. A man was sitting by the fire, apparently unarmed. What could he be doing here? Next to him was something tightly wrapped in furs. The orc looked closer and saw a small face. What is this? Human child? What madness it is to meddle in here without any weapons, and even with a small child! It means that something forced this person to do this.

Somewhere in the distance, a wolf howl was heard. The man by the fire was trembling, but not from the cold, but from fear. They won't live until morning. Wild beasts will deal with them, or ... worse.

The orc doesn't care about people. Especially since then, as the inhabitants of one of the nearest settlements tried to kill him. I don't care what becomes of this person and child. They can get him into trouble, and he doesn't need them. Any other orc would have already finished off this little man and, perhaps, would have devoured the child, but he will not do this. He'll just leave.

The orc cautiously took a few steps back and stepped on a branch. The man by the fire heard a crack and jumped up, taking out a short blade hidden in his bosom.

- Who is there?! He shouted. - Show yourself!

He was very scared. The orc quietly walked away.

In his cave, he ate fried venison and fell fast asleep on a couch made of skins. Confused, he forgot about the traps and traps.

Before morning came, he was awakened by a cry. The orc immediately realized that someone had fallen into a bear trap, which he set near the entrance to his cave.

Jumping out, he froze not so much from surprise as from confusion. The same man got into the trap with his left foot. He lay on the ground, writhed and groaned in pain, holding his leg. And the child sat next to him and calmly looked around.

The man saw the orc and cried out. He pulled out his blade and began to swing it.

- Don't come near! Don't touch us! Go away, freak!

The orc looked at him, not knowing what to do. And the child looked calmly at the orc. Finally the orc decided to approach and took a step.

- Get out! I will kill! The man shouted, trying to get up.

- Calm down! The orc suddenly growled. - I will help.

The man froze.

- What? He whispered. - Do you know how to speak humanly?

"Yes," the orc nodded and pointed to the blade. - Take it away.

- Won't you kill us?

The man removed the blade. He was afraid and realized that he was in a hopeless position. It remained only to trust this terrible creature. And he groaned:

- Help, please.

The orc approached and with his hands, which had not yet left the force, opened the trap.

“Damn, I can't walk,” the man said, examining the bloody leg.

“You won't be able to do it for long, or never at all — it’s shattered,” said the orc. - Why did you come? These are wild places, not for humans.

- Gods, this is the end! - moaned the man, but then gathered his strength and turned to the orc, who was waiting for an answer. “I’m Alvin, and this is Yasmina, my daughter. We are lost.

The baby all this time looked at the orc with curiosity.

“You're an orc, aren't you? - Alvin asked, and he nodded in response. - Do you have a name?

- There is. Grobgorch.

- We need to get to the nearest settlement. We disappeared without your help, ”Alvin said after Grobgorch washed his wound with some foul-smelling decoction and tied it tightly with rags.

The orc brought them to his cave, they warmed themselves by the fire and ate venison.

- You will help? The man asked.

Grobgorch was silent in response. He did not want to get close to people and did not want to take responsibility for the life of this person and his child.

- Is the nearest village far from here? Alvin asked again.

“Day of the journey,” the orc replied.

- You see, I can't go! Or do you intend to leave me?

- No! Grobgorh growled.

- We can't stay here!

The orc was silent and looked at the baby, who, as if spellbound, stared at the flames. Strange child, during all this time she did not make a sound and was not afraid of anything.

“She can't speak,” said Alvin, as if guessing his thoughts. - But she understands everything. Very smart for such a baby. Was that your trap?

Grobgorch nodded.

- So, you are also to blame for the fact that now I can not walk.

The orc glared at the man.

“Sorry,” Alvin said. - Hell! I ... I don't know what to do. We're in big trouble. I beg you help!

“It's a day's journey to the people, two or three with you,” said Grobgorh. - It will be difficult and dangerous.

- But we have no other choice! - Alvin screamed desperately.

The orc gave him a thoughtful look, then looked at the baby. Yasmina also suddenly looked at him and smiled.

“Okay,” he muttered reluctantly. - Rest today. Let's go tomorrow at dawn.

In the evening Grobgorh bandaged Alvin's leg, attaching two even pieces of wood to secure it, and wrapped it tightly with a hide. Alvin, enduring hellish pain, could still step on left leg... Grobgorh handed him a stick, and with its help he could somehow move. The orc prepared the meat for the journey, filled a waterskin with water and took out his old rusty ax from under the couch.

They set out the next morning. Grobgorh carried Yasmina in his arms, and Alvin slowly waddled after him. They left very close when Alvin asked to stop and rest. The orc reluctantly agreed.

They had to take frequent breaks. They walked in silence all the time. Alvin saw that the orc was angry and was afraid of him. They had gone less in a day than Grobgorch had expected.

- Too slow. Three more days, if so, ”he growled gloomily as they stopped for the night.

Grobgorh was cooking something on the fire, and Alvin sat with Yasmina and stroked her head. The baby looked at him with pitying eyes.

- Have you always lived alone? Alvin asked the orc. - Where are your relatives, your family?

“Orcs don't have families,” Grobgorch replied. - The orcs have a tribe.

- And where is your tribe?

The orc glanced angrily at the man and replied:

- I have no tribe. Always alone.

- And no relatives?

- There were. Father, brother, son are dead.

- Sorry, I ... You probably don't want to talk.

But Grobgorh's expression softened.

- Does the person want to know? You can ask, - he said with some sadness.

- If you had a son, then you also had a wife?

- No. Orcs have no wives. Orcs don't treat their women like humans.

- How do you feel about them? Really interesting, never heard of orc women.

- The female has no right to anything. She may not even have a name. A female cannot belong to an orc, she belongs to a tribe. If an orc desires a female, he must prove his strength and must fight other orcs who also desire her. When the orc takes possession of the female and she carries the belly from him, he takes care of her. If a female is born, the orc leaves her, if the son - takes himself and raises a warrior out of him. This is how all orcs live. And I lived like that.

- So, after all, you lived with the tribe? But did something happen?

But Grobgorch did not answer. He offered Alvin his disgusting-smelling broth.

- And I will not die from this orc drink?

- Drink! The orc insisted. - Will give you strength.

- More likely to give poisoning. Fu, what a disgusting thing! - Alvin winced.

Grobgorch put the cup to his lips. This slurry tasted even worse than the smell. Taking a sip, Alvin could hardly restrain his gagging.

“That's rubbish,” he moaned.

Grobgorch finished the rest, snorted and said:

- Now sleep. I guard.

Yasmina quickly fell asleep, clinging to Alvin, who for a long time could not close his eyes. After a whole day's journey, he had almost no strength left, and his leg hurt terribly, and he knew one thing - he could not go further. Is it over? The last hope was in this orc, whom he feared, but who had to blindly believe. Who knows, maybe tomorrow he will lead them to other orcs who will devour them - him and little Yasmina. Poor baby! He must save her. But how? He was practically helpless. All that remained was to rely on Grobgorh. You need to believe only in the good. This strange orc is not like his kind, he will not kill them. And with these thoughts Alvin fell asleep.

Deep in the night he was awakened by a wolf howl. The predators approached the place of their halt, but did not dare to come closer - Grobgorh frightened them off with a dull growl.

Alvin looked into the darkness - several pairs of wolf eyes were shining there. He thought that surrounded by dangerous predators will not fall asleep anymore, but fatigue took its toll He soon fell asleep again.

In the morning, Alvin could not step on his feet at all. She was terribly ill and swollen all over. Grobgorh had to carry it, throwing it over his right shoulder, and in his left hand to hold Yasmina. Thus, they walked for quite a long time and moved much faster. But the path became more difficult - all the ravines and windbreaks. And the old orc began to get tired.

Going out to the forest edge, Grobgorh stopped to rest. A stream flowed in a ravine nearby, and the orc decided to go down there to get water. Already rising from the ravine, he suddenly caught a scent that disturbed him. He sniffed, sucking in air through wide nostrils.

It smells like a bear. Not good. The beast is somewhere nearby. Grobgorch hurried to the edge.

Alvin was saying something to Yasmine, and the girl was listening attentively. Approaching them, Grobgorh shouted:

- Need to leave! It's dangerous here!

And right there on the left, with a loud crash, a wall of thickets opened, a huge brown bear and rushed at Alvin and Yasmina. The orc rushed to cut him, but did not have time.

Alvin rose, covering Yasmin with his body and drawing his blade, which he knew would not help.

The hefty predator knocked him down and bit into his right shoulder. There was a crunch of bones. Then the bear threw its prey aside with a blow of its paw and was ready to attack again to tear it apart. He stood up to his full height on his hind legs, wishing with all his might to fall on the defenseless and bleeding man. But a strong blow unexpectedly knocked him down. The beast, obviously, was dumbfounded that someone dared to fight him.

Wasting no time, Grobgorh lunged at the bear with his bare hands. Two ferocious creatures grappled in combat, tossing and turning on the ground and growling loudly.

The orc strained all its forces, preventing the enemy from gaining the upper hand, and was afraid of his mouth. Several times, bear teeth clicked in front of his face and near his throat. The bear crushed him under him, but, deftly dodging, Grobgorh managed to get out of the predator's embrace and climbed onto his back. With two hands, he caught his throat, trying to strangle him. The orc growled and with the last of his strength squeezed the throat of the enemy. The bear got even more furious and threw him off himself on the ground.

Grobgorch jumped to his feet and rushed to his ax, which he set, leaning against a tree, as he went to the stream. The bear follows him.

And now the orc grabs the ax. He knows, another second of delay - and the end. Therefore, not seeing the beast, he hits at random in a reversal. He put the rest of his strength into this blow and accompanied it with a furious cry. The ax overtook something hard, but pierced. The bear's carcass, devoid of half its skull, fell to the ground.

Exhausted, Grobgorh fell to one knee, leaning on a bloody ax. Breathing heavily, he looked around.

Yasmina cried over Alvin, who was lying on the ground, who, apparently trying to crawl, turned over on his stomach. The orc came over and turned his body over.

Alvin was bleeding. His right shoulder was horribly twisted, and intestines were falling out of deep wounds on his stomach - this was where the blow of a bear's paw with huge claws fell.

Alvin was conscious, his eyes seemed to see nothing in front of him and stared intently into the approaching nothingness, and his chest was heaving convulsively, and every breath was an unbearable pain.

Grobgorch raised his head. Alvin suddenly glared at him and put his left hand on his shoulder.

“I'll tell you the truth,” he spoke with difficulty and quite quietly. - Yasmina is not my daughter, I stole her ... But wait, listen to me before you judge. I saved her from the clutches of the Inquisition.

Grobgorch heard something about the Inquisition, about people in red cloaks who kill sorcerers. Alvin continued:

- I could not do otherwise, there would be a terrible life in eternal fetters. She has a gift, a magical gift, ”the dying man looked at Yasmina affectionately. “They have been following us for several months. You have to help.

“I’ll take her to the humans,” said the orc.

- No! She needs to go to Yanderfell ...

– Ancient city elves, already in ruins. Why go there?

“There’s a refuge for people like her.

- Far away and too dangerous. I'll take it to people and that's it.

“They can get to her. I gave my life for her ... Is it in vain? Swear to take her to Yanderfell!

Grobgorch was silent.

- Swear! Please! - Alvin screamed and painfully grabbed the orc's shoulder.

Grobgorch shook his head.

Alvin wanted to say something else, but his eyes rolled back, he uttered only a wheeze - and died.

Two horsemen rode unhurriedly along an abandoned path that led to the Alkhgor mountain pass. The riders wore red cloaks, each wearing a sheathed sword at the waist.

“It's getting pretty cold,” said one of them, who looked younger.

The second, looking older and more experienced, with a weathered face and gray hair on the temples, was silent, thinking about something. But the young man obviously wanted to talk:

- Damn, exactly a week ago we hit the trail of this bastard and since then - nothing. I think you should have searched those villages. It is very likely that they are being hidden.

“I doubt it,” the second drawled thoughtfully. - Locals don't like strangers. And besides, he does not intend to sit out here, but he must have thought of crossing the mountains, so we are heading to the pass.

“Gilbert, do you really think they have a hideout over there?

- The conclusion suggests itself. This is not the first time they have tried to hide from us in the north. I personally suggested that the Grand Inquisitor arrange a sortie there. But he, apparently, does not care about this. Times are changing, Frederick. The Inquisition begins to care about politics, and we began to turn a blind eye to such "minor" problems. One day it will come out sideways to us, mark my word.

- Hey, Gilbert, look! - Frederick jumped on the stirrups. Who is there, right on the road!

Indeed, in front, about four hundred paces from them, a large silhouette appeared.

“Let's see who it is,” Gilbert said, and took up his sword. - No nonsense, Frederic!

And the riders started their horses at a gallop.

Grobgorh was alert when he saw the horsemen galloping towards him. He knew that he was risking going out on the highway. But he also knew from experience that humans, unlike orcs, are more judicious and do not always kill right away.

Gilbert and Frederick overtook him with drawn swords and began to circle around, carefully examining him. Their faces flashed with surprise when they saw a child in the hands of the orc, the very girl they were looking for.

- Where did you get this child, orc ?! Gilbert asked menacingly, pointing his sword at Grobgorh.

- She was with another person. They got lost. I led them to a human dwelling. That man is dead - the bear lifted.

- You're lying! Frederick hissed. - You killed him!

“I didn't kill. I saw him die. I carry a child to people.

“He seems to be telling the truth,” Gilbert said judiciously. - He walked along the highway to the south, to human settlements, and the orcs live to the north. Plus, he didn't try to escape when he saw us.

- If this is true, - Frederic turned to the orc, - then you can safely give the girl to us. We'll take care of her. After all, this is what you wanted - to take her to a safe place, right? How unusual and noble for an orc ...

Grobgorh was looking closely at these two people and his red cloaks aroused fears in him.

- Come on? Gilbert removed his sword and held out his hands to it. - Give it to me.

- The Inquisition ?! Grobgorch hugged Yasmina to him.

- Yes, we are the Knights of the Order of the Inquisition! Frederick announced almost solemnly. - If you don’t voluntarily give up the child, you will die!

“We won't hurt her,” Gilbert said calmly. “It will just grow under strict supervision. I swear we don’t mock children, much less take their lives. I see you are a clever orc. Why do you need such a burden?

Grobgorch could not decide. Even if he survived the fight with these knights, what next? It is dangerous to enter a human settlement - people in red cloaks can also prowl there. Go to Yanderfell? But this is too dangerous, besides, winter is already on the doorstep. Both the girl and he himself may die. Therefore, he decided to trust the words of these people and give it to Yasmin.

He had already passed the girl to Gilbert - the baby did not want to go to the knight's arms and stubbornly resisted - when suddenly an arrow whistled and hit the side of Frederick's horse. The horse reared up and collapsed, crushing its rider. They were shooting from the right, from a dense grove.

- Is this an ambush, you goddamn son of a bitch ?! Cried Gilbert, drawing his sword.

- No! I did not know! - shouted Grobgorh, stepping back.

The second arrow hit Gilbert in the thigh, breaking through the plate of armor, and the third knocked his horse down, but the knight managed to jump off.

Recognizing the orc arrows, Grobgorh rushed to the left, through the heather, into the ravine, and then into the forest. And six orcs ran out of the grove. Three of them rushed in pursuit of Grobgorch, the rest went to the knights.

Gilbert struggled to his feet, and Frederick desperately tried to get out from under the dead horse that crushed his leg.

One of the orcs was larger than the others, his skin was paler, and his face was unusually ugly, even for an orc. In his hand was a sword with a curved, serrated blade. He single-handedly attacked Gilbert, the other two remained on the sidelines.

The knight parried with difficulty two powerful blows, backing away, but the third was brought down on him with such force that Gilbert fell to the ground, and the sword flew out of his hands.

He knew it was the end. And desperately covering himself with his hand, he expected the last fatal blow. But the orc dropped his weapon, bent down to the knight and grabbed his throat with his right hand. He lifted it up and Gilbert felt his feet lifted off the ground.

The orc strangled him with a death grip. The creature's eyes glittered, and a semblance of a smile appeared on its thick, ugly lips.

Frederick watched with horror. He heard Gilbert's wheezing, saw his body fluttering convulsively, and then there was a crunch of cervical vertebrae. Gilbert stopped moving, his body limp. The orc threw the knight he had killed to the ground.

- Bastard! Cried Frederick. - I will kill you, you filthy creature!

The orc, seeing that the knight could not free his leg from under the horse's carcass, laughed loudly and disgustingly.

Boom whistle. The horrible laughter of the orc was interrupted. But he was alive, an arrow tore off his left ear. The other two collapsed dead. One got an arrow in the throat, and the other in the eye.

The huge orc, having lost his ear, covered his head with his hand, which was immediately hit by a new arrow. He roared and ran away.

Two slender figures were approaching Frederick.

Grobgorch knew that he could not escape the pursuit. He was already exhausted, and his pursuers, three young orcs, could continue the pursuit all day.

He heard their stomping, their breathing; they overtook him. The two orcs rushed forward, overtaking him to surround him, and Grobgorh was forced to stop. Clutching Yasmina to his chest, he looked down at the orcs surrounding him. One with a spear came in from behind, the second with a strong club in his hands walked towards Grobgorh head to head. The third, aiming with a bow, suddenly shouted:

- Stop! We don't have to kill him. You just need to take the human child!

In this orc Grobgorch recognized his brother's son.

- Morrig! - he called his name.

Morrig lowered his bow and stepped closer.

“Give the human child back, and no one will touch you,” he said.

- You? Raise your hand on me ?! Grobgorh growled.

- I - no, but they - yes.

And the one with the cudgel grinned disgustingly.

- Why do you need this child?

- Gurnak had a dream in which you and this child were. This means that the Bloody God requires sacrifice. Why don't you want to give the child away? Why did he surrender to you?

Hearing these words, the orc behind him struck Grobgorh with the spear shaft. He was outraged that Kharga, his leader, was called a henchman.

- We'll take the child. Tomorrow is Red Moon night, the sacrifice must be made, ”Morrig said.

- I will not let it! Grobgorh barked, and a moment later roared in pain as the orc stuck a spear in his side from behind.

Grobgorch fell to one knee, and immediately a club fell on his head. He fell to the ground, his eyes darkened, but he did not lose consciousness and did not let Yasmina out of his weakened hands, but Morrig tore her away.

Grobgorch tried to understand. Blood was pouring from a split forehead and a hole in the side.

- Let's kill him! - an orc with a spear prepared to pierce Grobgorh with his weapon.

- No! - shouted Morrig. “He's an orc, he was one of us. We'll keep him alive.

The orc with the club snorted in displeasure, but said nothing.

“We're leaving,” Morrig said, and the three of them walked away.

Yasmina wept and tried in vain to free herself from Morrig's arms.

Grobgorh watched their trail and gritted his teeth in frustration and impotence. Then everything suddenly became cloudy, and he prostrated on the ground.

Frederick looked at his saviors, who pulled him out from under the dead horse. Tall, slender, beautiful, with pointed ears - elves. They looked very young, like a boy and a girl, but they were probably already under a hundred years old, or even more.

Just a knight saw horrible death his friend, he himself was close to the end and was now confused, not fully believing in his salvation.

- What, and no thanks, man? The elf squinted unpleasantly.

“Yes, I'm… grateful,” Frederick murmured. “But where the hell are you from here?

- Did you think the elves only do what they sit in their Protected Forest? The elf chuckled and shook his long black hair.

“My name is Alari,” the blonde elf introduced herself. - And this is Erevin. Here we carry our service to Fanvarion, the Lord of the Protected Forest, namely, we observe the border of the orc territories.

- Here? So far from the boundaries of your forest? - Frederic was surprised.

“People have not seen the orcs as a serious threat for a long time, and therefore we, the elves, took upon ourselves this business, although no one asked us. Orcs from time immemorial, even before the appearance of people, were our sworn enemies. And their last invasion was stopped by our forces. If it were not for the army of the protected forest, all human kingdoms would be confused.

“What interests me is what the knight of the Inquisition has forgotten here,” Erevin said.

- My name is Frederick. We were looking for a child with magical abilities kidnapped from the Inquisition and found it. But that orc fled with him, and my friend was killed. What was that creature?

“This pale-skinned orc is called Turaz,” replied Alari. “He is the son of Chief Kharg.

- I will chop off the head of this freak, whoever he is!

“I advise you to give up this venture and go home,” Erevin said. - We must go too, Alari, we need to report what happened.

- Wait, - said the elf, - we do not know everything. What was this orc who ran away with the child?

“According to him, he led the girl and her abductor to the people, but he died,” the knight replied. - And this orc, apparently, is not on friendly terms with his relatives.

“A hermit or an exile,” the elf explained. - I propose to follow his trail.

“They probably caught up with him and killed him,” Erevin said.

- If they killed, then they took the child. One way or another, we will find ourselves on the trail of these orcs and, perhaps, we will be able to catch up with them.

- Why did they need a child? Frederick asked.

- For sacrifice. I do not want to condemn the child to this terrible fate. I will go after them.

“This is fucking reckless! Erevin exclaimed. - Don't be silly, Alari!

“I'm going too,” said Frederick. - I want to save the baby and get even with that creature.

“You see, I’m not alone, Erevin.

“Okay,” the elf said. - Just for you, Alari, I will do it.

- Then let's not waste time.

Frederick took one last look at Gilbert's dead body, gripped the hilt of his sword and hurried after the elves.

When they found Grobgorh, he had already regained consciousness. He sat with his back against a tree, his hand pressed against the bleeding wound in his left side.

Frederick and Erevin held their hands on the hilt of their swords, approaching the wounded orc.

“He's not dangerous,” Alari said and leaned over to Grobgorh. - Do not be afraid, we will help.

The old orc looked at her indifferently.

- Why should we help him? Erevin winced in disgust.

- Because he can pursue the same goals as we do. Isn't that right, orc? Do you want to save the child?

Grobgorch nodded.

The elf took out a small bag, from which she poured a bluish powder into her palm.

“Show the wound,” she said.

When Grobgorch removed his hand from the wound, she pressed her hand with the powder to it. The orc gritted his teeth in searing pain.

“It will help,” Alari said. - What is your name?

- Grobgorch.

- Do you know the orcs of this tribe?

- It was my tribe. I was expelled. Long.

- For what?

Grobgorch did not answer.

- Tell us everything and we will help. We're going to kill them.

The orc frowned at Alari, then at Erevin and Frederic, and spoke:

“It was good life in our tribe many years ago. Then the leader was Bagud, a wise orc and a mighty warrior. We worshiped spirits and lived peacefully. I had a brother Barrug and a son Targal. But then two strangers came from behind the mountains - Kharg and the shaman Gurnak. Their entire tribe perished, and Bagud accepted them into our tribe, but soon paid for it. Kharg challenged him, killed him and became the leader. Kharg is a bad leader, he is cruel and bloodthirsty. And Gurnak began to say that it was foolish to worship spirits, because there is a powerful Krushannarak, the Bloody God, and only orcs should serve him and make sacrifices. Many wanted to expel Kharg and Gurnak, but only my brother dared to challenge the leader. Barrug fell in battle. I wanted revenge, but I was afraid, I knew that Kharg was stronger. Seeing my fear, Targal, my son, stopped respecting me and decided to take revenge himself. Before my eyes, Kharg crushed his skull. After that, Kharg and his supporters, who became more and more, began to see me as an enemy, and I was expelled. And Morrig, the son of Barrug, was small, and Harg raised him himself along with his son Zutar. And now Morrig serves Kharg and doesn't even think about revenge.

- And you haven't tried to get revenge all this time? Frederick asked.

- No. I thought a lot and knew that it would not work. Not in a fair fight, not in any other way. Kharg is powerful, now the whole tribe serves him and the shaman Gurnak. But I still doubt my right to revenge. According to Orcish law, Harg is right. He was challenged, and he defended his place as leader.

- But there is something above any laws there. This creature killed your family, and his son killed my friend. Therefore, I believe they deserve to die at our hands. Come with us and I promise we will kill them.

- You're all crazy! Erevin threw up his hands. “Have you thought what to do if we run into the entire Orc tribe? No, this feat is too tough for us.

“A day's journey to the temple over the Dragon's Abyss, where they offer sacrifices,” Alari said. - We still have a chance to catch up with them.

“Rather, we have a chance to die senselessly.

- It's not pointless. If you don’t want to come with us, I don’t ask you, Erevin.

- Yes, I do not want to go, and I do not want you to go. And why are you so eager to save this child?

- You know! - Alari suddenly screamed, and her beautiful eyes flashed angrily. - Do you know why! I can't sleep well after what happened, and we couldn't do anything. But you do not understand, you hate humans, as well as orcs!

Erevin was silent, making a stone face.

- What is this about? Frederick asked worriedly.

“Where do you think the orcs took the sacrifices, which should be exclusively human children, as this Krushannarak demands? They took babies from one human village. And people gave up their children with horror so that the orcs would not destroy the entire settlement. We knew about this and asked to do something, but our management did not care. We are here just in case, in time to anticipate a new invasion of the orcs, and such "trifles" do not bother anyone. I wrote a message to Vladyka Fanvarion himself, but he did not give an answer. And then the desperate people refused to pay this terrible tribute, and the orcs massacred the entire village. And if there is now hope of saving one life of an innocent child, I cannot stand aside. And you, knight of the Inquisition, why are you going for this? To complete the task, return the girl to where she was stolen from in an attempt to save her from a bad fate? If we succeed, I swear I won't let you do it.

“I swear she won't go back to the Inquisition prison,” Frederick promised.

- And you, orc? - the elf turned to Grobgorh. - What drives you?

- I'm sorry for the child, and I want her to live.

With that, the orc stood up. He felt a surge of strength and was confident that he was ready to challenge his most terrible enemy. And he really wanted to save this little girl's life. Over the course of his long life, the old orc realized one thing: everyone deserves a life, until he proved otherwise.

They overtook them in the early morning, when it was still dark. The four orcs stopped to rest by the fire. They were Zutar, Morrig and the two orcs who, along with Morrig, took Yasmina from Grobgorh.

The knight, orc and elves hid behind the trees.

“Excellent,” Frederic whispered, carefully drawing his sword, “there are only four of them. We'll deal with them quickly.

“I don’t see the girl,” said Alari.

“Surely they are hiding it securely.

The elves put arrows on the bows, Grobgorh grabbed the ax.

- Well, go ahead, - the knight breathed. - Kill these three as you like, and leave the son of the leader to me.

They came out of hiding. The orcs immediately noticed them, but before one of them had time to grab his club, Erevin's arrow hit him in the forehead.

The elf pulled the bowstring for another shot.

- Alari, shoot! He shouted.

But the elf hesitated.

“They don’t have a child,” she said in confusion.

Frederic rushed to Zutar. The one-eared orc managed to grab his crooked sword and threw the knight back with a powerful blow.

Grobgorch was in no hurry to attack either.

“It's a trap,” he realized.

Zutar grinned mockingly, and behind him a wall of thickets parted, and there appeared three orcs.

Grobgorh and the elves looked around. On the right and left, more orcs emerged from the darkness, and there were many of them.

- But how? Erevin wondered.

“Krushannarak showed you to me in a dream,” came an eerie, as if from hell itself, chilling voice.

Out of the darkness emerged a hideous-looking creature with a pale skin streaked with black veins, hung with beads of bones, leaning on a crooked staff with a pommel in the form of a skull with horns and fangs. It was the ancient shaman Gurnak. Nobody knew how old he was and how life was kept in him, but there was something unnatural in this.

“It looks like this is the end,” said Frederic, recovering from the blow of Turaz.

They were surrounded. But Erevin was not going to give up, he sharply shot an arrow at the shaman. But Gurnak managed to wave his hand and the arrow, changing its trajectory, flew up somewhere. The shaman did not like this trick.

“Bring me the head of that sharp-eared man,” he ordered Zutar.

The son of the chief single-handedly moved towards the elf. Grobgorch, Frederick and Alari rushed to cut him. Gurnak pointed his staff at them, and the skull's eye sockets lit up with a green flame. All three felt as if the space around them was distorted, everything turned upside down, and the earth disappeared from under their feet. The elf, the orc and the man fell to the ground, and roots crawled out of the ground and, like snakes, coiled around them. It was impossible to escape.

Erevin, throwing his bow and drawing his sword, grappled with Turaz. The clever elf dodged the attacks of the chief's son, but all his attacks were unsuccessful. The huge orc was surprisingly very fast and managed to beat off sharp and accurate blows.

In a new attack, the elf, taking great risks, opened up and, when his blow was parried, he did not have time to either block or walk away. A serrated sword slashed at him obliquely from shoulder to waist. Erevin did not even cry out and fell silently. Turaz, laughing, lifted him by the hair. The elf was still alive, he met Alari's gaze.

- Erevin! She cried desperately.

At that moment, an orc sword slashed at his neck. Thuraz raised the elf's head above him with open glazed eyes. All the orcs growled in joy at this death.

Turaz threw Erevin's head at the feet of Gurnak. The shaman chuckled and kicked her aside.

- Let's kill the rest! - the son of the leader growled.

“No,” said Gurnak. “Leave them alive to me for now. I promise, when I suck all the juices out of them, you can do whatever you want with them. Come on, your father is already waiting for us at the altar.

And, having said these words, he threw some kind of gray pollen on the rooted Alari, Grobgorch and Frederick. After inhaling it, all three passed out.

When Grobgorh woke up, he realized that he was tied to a stone pillar in an old orc temple. Once his tribe sacrificed here to animal spirits. But when Kharg became the leader, the idols of the spirits were destroyed and in the center of the temple they erected an altar with a stone sculpture of a skull, the same as on the staff of Gurnak.

To the left of Grobgorh Alari, and to the right of Frederick are also tied in the same way. They were at the very edge of the abyss, Grobgorh could even look into it and saw at the very bottom the skeleton of a huge dragon. Therefore, the abyss was called Draconic.

The whole tribe has gathered here. Orcs sat around the temple. Gurnak stood near the altar and muttered either spells or prayers to his Bloody God. And on the altar itself lay Yasmina. She was sleeping peacefully, apparently under the influence of some kind of drug.

Dusk was already falling. Everyone was waiting for the night when the Red Moon would rise.

Grobgorh saw Kharg. As huge and pale-skinned as his son, the leader approached the altar. He should be old, like Grobgorch, but he didn't look like that. Furious power still resided in this scarred, mighty body. Grobgorh was sure that the dark magic of Gurnak supported the forces in Kharga, as well as life in the flabby, withered body of the shaman himself.

When Kharg approached the altar, Gurnak stopped his muttering and addressed the entire tribe:

- Before the Red Moon appears in the sky, the eye of Krushannarak, and the sacrifice is made, any orc has the right to challenge the leader. If he wins, his reign will be blessed with the great Krushannarak!

The entire tribe seethed, the orcs whispered to each other, but no one dared to challenge Kharg.

- I challenge! - Someone's voice was suddenly distributed.

Everyone fell silent. There was silence. Everyone tried to understand who dared to utter these words.

Kharg turned to Grobgorh.

- It's you? He chuckled.

- Yes! I, Grobgorch, son of Uzug, challenge you to a fair fight, leader!

- He will kill you! - shouted Alari.

“That's right,” said Frederic. “This is our last chance, albeit a tiny one.

Harg gave Grobgorch a scornful look and said:

“You were banished, and I have the right to refuse to fight you. But if you want to die, I will do you this favor. I, Kharg, son of Erhag, accept your challenge!

Two orcs approached Grobgorh and untied him. By law, they had to fight without weapons.

Grobgorh and Kharg faced each other. The tribe's orcs roared and beat drums.

“You should have challenged me long ago and died with dignity, but you preferred exile as a pitiful coward,” said the leader. - I remember the frightened eyes of your son before he died. I remember how he screamed when I killed him.

These words pissed off Grobgorh, and he attacked first.

They grappled, and Grobgorh immediately sensed the superior strength of his enemy. He could feel his own bones cracking from Kharg's blows. Knowing that he could not withstand a fist fight, Grobgorh tried to knock down the enemy. But he had an advantage in both height and weight. Having made a grab, Kharg threw Grobgorh over himself and, not allowing him to stand on his feet, rushed at him, pressed him to the ground and rested his elbow on his throat.

Grobgorh was not at a loss and gave the leader a hard hit on the temple. For a moment, Kharg's mind was blurred. Taking advantage of this, Grobgorh broke free from under him and tried to attack from behind. The mighty Kharg immediately stood up to his full height, lifting Grobgorh on his back and threw him over his head to the ground, then stepped on his chest, grabbed his left arm, pulling it up, and fell on it with his whole mass, arching in back side... There was a crackling sound. Grobgorch screamed. The broken bone, tearing the skin, crawled out.

Harg let him go.

- Get up! He snapped. - Get up and fight, weakling!

You can't win with one hand. There is no other way out. And Grobgorh rose to his death. Harg lunged at him.

The first two blows were in the face, tritium in the stomach, and again in the face. And then Grobgorch fell. Harg sat on top of him and began to shower with blows, simply pinning his head to the ground. Soon the chief stopped and lifted Grobgorch by the throat.

- Still breathing, carrion ?! Harg growled and squeezed Grobgorh's throat.

It seemed like it was the end. However, the old orc with his surviving hand suddenly grabbed hold of Kharga's huge, strongly protruding Adam's apple, squeezed it with a crunch ... and pulled it out.

There was an eerie wheeze, blood gushing from the hole in Kharg's throat and mouth. He let go of Grobgorch and fell to his knees. He tried to breathe, but only choked on his own blood. With one hand, he grabbed his throat, and with the other he tried to reach his killer in his death throes. Trying to crawl on his knees, he fell face down to the ground and died.

Such was the end of the invincible leader Kharga.

Everyone froze. Morrig stepped out of the numb crowd and announced:

“Grobgorch is now our leader! Kharg is killed in a fair fight!

- Grobgorch! Grobgorch! - there were exclamations, which were followed by many orcs.

- Free the man and the elf! Grobgorh ordered.

They hurried to carry out his order. He himself, limping, went to the altar, where Yasmina was already awakening from a witchcraft dream. Gurnak blocked the way for the new leader.

“There will be no more casualties,” Grobgorh said.

“You cannot refuse Krushannarak's sacrifice, otherwise he will punish us all,” the shaman hissed.

- Tell your Bloody God that he will manage. Now get out, dog!

Gurnak dropped his staff and extended his long, crooked arms forward. Sparks burst from his ugly black fingers, and then thin red lightning bolts erupted and struck Grobgorh. Burning pain paralyzed the whole body; lightning stung and hampered movement.

Suddenly there was a loud cry from behind Gurnak. It was Yasmina. Nobody saw, but everyone felt how some invisible force hit the shaman in the back. Gurnak stood on his feet and, turning, fired lightning bolts at Yasmina. But his magic met an insurmountable obstacle on its way. The lightning rebounded and struck in the opposite direction with even greater force. Gurnak flew at the feet of Grobgorh, who grabbed him and dragged him to the abyss.

- No! No! The shaman screeched, desperately trying to break free.

In a moment, he flew down with a wild cry.

- Watch out! - heard Grobgorh someone cry.

He turned and saw how Zutar, knocking down who was trying to stop him, Morrig, rushed at him with a raised sword.

Frederick stood in the way of Kharg's son. Their swords crossed. The blows rained down from both sides. Zutar pressed forward, and it seemed that he was about to crush the knight. The battle suddenly stopped - having contrived, Frederic pierced his enemy with a sword.

- I said I would kill! He shouted.

But at the same instant Zutar thrust his sword into the knight's chest. Frederick staggered back and fell. And Zutar remained on his feet and tried to pull the knight's sword out of his body.

Alari, in two leaps, was next to him and stabbed a short blade into his throat. Zutar wheezed and collapsed dead. The elf rushed to the bleeding Frederick, but he was already dead.

Grobgorch sat on the edge of the abyss, leaning on a large boulder. The stars began to twinkle in the clear sky and the Red Moon shone.

Alari took Yasmina in her arms and walked over to him. The girl held out her hands to the orc, and the elf sat her on his lap.

“Take her to Yanderfell,” Grobgorh said quietly. - Promise.

He was breathing heavily. Strength was leaving him.

“I promise,” said the elf.

Yasmina pressed against Grobgorh one last time, and Alari took her in her arms.

- Goodbye, Grobgorh.

He just nodded back and closed his eyes.

The crowd of orcs parted before the elf, and she went away, taking with her the rescued child.

Grobgorh sat and thought that since Yasmina was saved, then Alvin, Erevin and Frederick did not die in vain, and he would not die in vain. For many years he lived in exile, and now he was dying as a leader.

Glancing at the starry sky for the last time, Old Grobgorh gave up his spirit.