Chapter 8 – Part 1

HOME IS WHERE THE HEART IS BROKEN

Dawn on the 13th of Zarantyr, the first wall of Blood Crescent

“Feh!” snorted the orc, squinting at the rising sun. “Dancing Orphan, you coming up here?” A blur and a soft thump, and the warforged was standing next to him.

“Get below, Mechan,” Iron Orphan said, flexing his arms. Like Mechan, Orphan spoke in orc, a language that he had learned rapidly. “Your strong axe and sharp eyes served Tharashk well this night.”

“Mechan rests his eyes from the hard light,” the orc said. “But you call, hard light or no, Mechan comes!” The orc spat over the wall onto the hard ground of the Wastes. “Don’t want to give those gnolls the glory.”

“Feh!” Orphan said, doing a passable imitation of an orc snort. “What glory can a gnoll find?”

“Heh, ‘find’!” laughed the orc. He high-fived the warforged, and Orphan managed not to stagger backwards.

As the orc went below, the warforged flexed and watched the sunrise. The colors slowly came alive on the ground, and he considered the turn of events that had brought him to this place.