Grim V

    "Today was a good day." Grim rubbed his aching shoulders, sitting around a fire.

    "When will you start teaching me to fight with a sword?" Kruzz raised his tusks. "I can't use a staff with two hands, so I thought a sword would be more natural.
    "Yes and no." Dax threw another log into the crackling fire, sparks flying past the trees of the near forest into the night air,. "A sword would be more natural for your one hand, but you would get too accustomed to a certain style of fighting. You would get set in your ways and wouldn't evolve if it felt too comfortable. It is my intention to prepare you for any situation and make you work for it. I believe challenging you is the right path for you to grow into your potential."
    "What our wordsmith is saying is that you never know when you have to fight and what weapon will be at hand. I've been in battles where I stormed into the fight with an axe and ended up with two swords. It's good to know how to fight with different weapons and especially how to fight against them as well."
    Grim emptied his waterskin, wishing it were ale instead of water. A memory of pain tingled along a scar on his shoulder. Most things could be used as a weapon if the situation called for it. A piece of a shattered clay pot had given him that scar right before he killed the mother wielding it. Right before he turned to her broodlings. He could still smell the smoke in the air, feel the sting of it in his eyes.
    "Grim?" Kruzz tilted his head and looked at him as if he were drunk. "You alright?"
    "Fine. I'm fine. Was just thinking about stuff better forgotten." Grim shook himself, scratching the still tingling scar.
    "You looked like you were far far away. Wait! What was that?" Dax turned and peered into the darkness.
    "I don't hear..."
    "Shh!" Grim quieted Kruzz to listen.
    He did not make a grab for his weapon yet. He only tried to hear what Dax had heard. It was possible that the know-it-all had better instincts when it came to this. He had spent years with the Elves after all.
    The fire crackled as all else was silent. Grim remained as still as Dax, a sharp glance at Kruzz told him to do the same. Another crack shot through the night, but it didn't come from their fire. It must have been a branch off in the woods.
    The three of them had set up their fire a bit further away form the rest of the settlement. Grim and Dax had taken charge of Kruzz's training and they liked to keep to themselves. Now they were on their own and didn't know what was coming their way.
    It could just be an animal or it could be a band of humans. Silently, Grim removed a short blade form his boot, the leather grip was smooth and comfortable in his hand, better than the rough grain of the wooden sword they had been practicing with, which he placed his other hand on. Dax already had his fingers curled around his staff and Kruzz was following suit.
    A rustling of leaves made Grim tense. There could be no mistake. Something was out there. Dax didn't hesitate and slid from the light of  their circle into the dark woods without a sound.
    More snapping of twigs and rustling of leaves meant whoever or whatever it was, was coming closer. Grim turned to have the fire behind him, to not be blinded. There was a shape coming into the gloomy light. It was huge, too big to be a human and definitely not an animal.
    It was an Orc. Grim's muscles relaxed a bit, but he held on to his dagger, just to be safe. It was a really big Orc.
    "Ho!" The Orc said and raised his giant hands. "By my mother's teats! You're Orcs."
    "So we are." Grim grunted. "Who are you? Where are you from?"
    "Name's Brock! Brogdah Clan! This the Turak settlement?"
    "Yes, it is." Dax appeared behind Brock, leaning against a tree.
    "Whoa. Where'd you come from?"
    "Just being cautious. There is a conflagration in the making."
    "Cautious? Conflagration?" Brock seemed to be tasting the words as he made the sounds for them nice and slow.
    "He means he was being safe. There's war afoot." Grim had been spending too much time with Dax. Not too long ago he would have looked just as dumbstruck as Brock.
    "Ah, okay. That's why I'm here actually, my Elder sent me. Gwarr is done with raiding. He wants to gather a horde and show the humans what we Orcs are made of."
    Kruzz leaned forward, brow furrowed. "What happened? Why would he stop raiding?"
    "Humans lead a cavalry charge against us and trampled many grunts to the ground. He's no longer out for revenge on behalf of the Griklog Clan and what happened in the mountains. Now it's more personal."
    "The Brogdah Clan was defeated?"
    "We had to retreat. Gwarr did't like it, but he said it was the best tactical decision. I would have kept on fighting, but Gwarr ordered us back, leaving some of the wounded behind." Brock balled his fists. "Now, I want revenge for my brothers more than ever."
    "But what does it mean for us?" Kruzz asked looking from Grim to Dax. "How will gathering a horde effect us?"
    Dax scratched the back of his head. "Gwarr will send messengers to all the clans and every Elder will have to decide if they will send their grunts to his aid or not. It will be like in the Great War against the Elves. There will no longer be a question of what this conflict with the humans will bring. If our Elder says we must aid him then that's what we'll have to do. Every one of us."
    Grim scowled and put his blade back into his boot. War. He knew it had been coming, but now it was closer than ever. He did not envy Worg's position as Elder, but was glad that it was not his own choice to make.
    He still remembered the screaming and the fear from so long ago. If it were up to him, he would not return to that life, but if he was ordered to go to war. Then so be it.
    At least, that's what he was telling himself.

   

Rud III

    Rud wiped his hands on his trouser leg, damp earth rubbing into the cloth. The three graves in front of him now held four bodies and a key. Swindon and Podd had wanted to bring Adam back to camp on the night that Rud had saved them, but he had known that there would be too many questions.
    The questions had come anyway and Bron had paid the price for asking them. For now, Rud kept Bron's demise a secret, letting the rumor spread that he was sick and didn't want to be disturbed. Not even Swindon and Podd knew the truth.
    Rud couldn't help wondering if Bron had been right to worry about the spring and the water's effects. Had he overreacted by killing him? No. It had to be done. Bron would have gotten in the way. He would have had the authority to seal off the spring and let no one near it if he thought it was a danger to others.
    It was no danger though, Rud knew. It was water sent from the Gods that would give every man the strength and vitality they needed to fight the Orcs. Rud was sure of it, just as he knew that he was the one who would have to spread the Gods' gift.
    Boots scraping the ground of the path to the spring pulled Rud from his thoughts. Swindon and Podd appeared as if from the rock itself. The twilight of dawn making the entrance to the path even more difficult to spot.
    They were both carrying a barrel on their shoulder, the added strength of the spring water making it an easy task. "Two barrels filled with the finest water there ever was." Podd placed his barrel on the grave his brother was sharing with a key and one of the men they had first found in the cavern.
    "So, where should we hide them." Swindon put his barrel down as well and turned, undoing his trousers laces. "I think it should be close enough to camp for us to be able to refill our flasks when we need to, but disguised so they aren't easy to find. In a bush or something like that." He said while taking a piss on one of the other graves.
    "Actually, we won't be hiding them. We'll be exchanging them with the current water barrels of the camp." Rud smiled.
    Podd's jaw dropped and Swindon turned back to them, spraying Podd's boots. "Watch where you point that thing or I'll cut it off!" Podd's hand moved toward his blade in an instant, white knuckles clenched around its grip.
    "Calm down!" Swindon said as he pulled his pants up and laced them shut. "What do you mean, Rud? You want everyone to drink from the spring?"
    Rud was still eyeing Podd with his flushed cheeks. Had Bron been right to worry? Yes. But it had to be done. "We need more men like us, Swindon. Men who can be cut down and keep on fighting. The conflict with the Orcs is getting worse. Soon it will be a full-blown war. This is only the beginning of what needs to be done for us to be victorious."
    Podd still had his hand on his weapon, but his fingers were starting to relax. "I can see the benefit in that, but what about the Captain?"
    "He's sick. Everyone will have had some water before he's back on his feet and when he has a drink himself he'll be as good as new and will see why we need to use the spring to our advantage." The lie came with ease.
    Swindon pondered this for a moment, but nodded his assent in the end. The three of them went back to camp and made sure that the two barrels were lined up to be used as the day's drinking water. They had agreed to let the spring water spread through camp naturally without anyone making a connection to them immediately. Once everyone or almost everyone had taken a sip, then Rud would inform them of what it was they were drinking.
    As the camp stirred and slowly came to life in the morning light, Swindon and Podd went to the training grounds to keep at their regular routine. The lack of a good night's sleep was nothing to them after having had their fill of the spring's water.
    Rud was making his way through camp as he noticed some heated activity near the mine's entrance. His heart pounded in his chest. Bron had been discovered, it couldn't be anything else, he was certain. Rud retraced his steps mentally to be sure there were no clues leading to his guilt.
    With a calm he did not feel, he made his way to Bron's office. Hushed words were spoken between the guards on duty. They didn't seem to know what to do. At Rud's arrival he saw fear in one man's eyes and relief in the other. A spare glance let him see the door of the office, it was open and was marked by dried blood.
    The fearful guard turned away, not making further eye contact with Rud, while the other cleared his throat to speak, but couldn't utter a word. Rud made a show of seeing the door and widening his eyes in shock. "What happened here?"
    The relieved guard finally managed to speak. "We don't know. There's a lot of blood. It's everywhere. We found the office like this at first light and didn't know what to do. The door was open and there was so much blood."
    "Is Captain Bron alright?" Rud hoped his concern sounded genuine, although the guards seemed so flustered they probably wouldn't realize he was faking it.
    "I don't know. He's not there and we haven't been able to find him anywhere else in camp. He's gone."
    "Gone?"