Page 40 of Storms & Sacrifice
That sounds awfully convenient, but I’m not a writer. And speaking of convenient, Khazak and his men have just shown up, the escaped orc among them. The two tribe leaders stare each other down. Tark’han is the first to break eye contact, looking down at Riktal’s corpse with a smirk and forcing Khazak to look down too. The sight of his best friend and second-in-command’s body fills Khazak with so much rage that you’d think he belonged to the other tribe. He turns his stare to Vakesh as he draws his sword, and with a shout, another battle begins.
With Khazak’s troops, things seem more evenly matched, which I’m not sure makes sense, but I’m too invested in the story at this point to care. While they battle on the outskirts, Khazak charges toward Vakesh and Tark’han in the center, grabbing Riktal’s discarded sword with his free hand on the way. Now dual-wielding, he crosses swords with Vakesh first, the smaller orc reluctantly forced to defend himself. Lucky for him, his brother comes up on Khazak’s back. The Proudhunter leader uses his second sword to deflect the attack but is forced to move unless he wants to be trapped between the two.
The three of them dance like this for a while, Khazak and Tark’han on the attack while Vakesh stays largely defensive. All the while, the two orcs are yelling, shouting at Vakesh, who continues to look torn between the two. I swear I think I saw the guy’s heart break after a particularly vicious sounding line from his brother. So far, Khazak has been holding his own against the two pretty well, but I can see it starting to wear on him.
With a well-timed swipe, Tark’han manages to knock the sword from Khazak’s off hand. Seeing an opportunity, Vakesh strikes at Khazak’s other hand, disarming him completely. In the confusion, Tark’han rushes in with a well-placed kick to Khazak’s stomach, sending the orc tumbling to the ground at Vakesh’s feet. Sure of his defeat, Khazak can only look up at his former lover’s face in disgust, waiting forhis death.
Vakesh stands over the prone Khazak, sword arm pulled back. The pose is one of a practiced warrior, ready to strike, but his face... His face is justbroken. Tark’han comes up behind his brother, hand on his shoulder as he speaks into his ear. I already know what he’s saying.Do it. Kill him and prove yourself.He’s so smug, so sure of himself.
Which is why he looks so shocked when he finds his brother’s sword driven through his stomach.
“Oh shit,” I actually sayout loud.
Tark’han falls to the ground, blood already pouring from his mouth. He looks up, cursing his brother’s betrayal with his final words. Vakesh drops to his knees as the life drains from his brother’s face, looking even more broken than he did before. Khazak stands, unsure if he should approach or run. The battling around them draws to a close with many of the Ragebloods retreating in the face of their leader’s sudden demise (even though this is their camp). Though they are the victors, the Proudhunter tribe looks unsure of whether or not to celebrate, all eyes drawn to their leader and his (former?) slave.
Vakesh finally stands, though is unable to lift his head to look Khazak in the face. The two speak, stiffly at first, though slowly they begin to warm to each other.
“Vakesh is explaining the truth of what transpired, about both Riktal’s and Tark’han’s plans,” Sir translates. “Khazak is mournful of his friend’s passing but also angry with him for putting himself, Vakesh, and the rest of the tribe in danger.”
Then stage-Khazak says something that has Vakesh meeting his eyes in an instant, anger flashing across his features for a second before he says anythingin return.
“He wants to release Vakesh,” Khazak whispers. “But in response, Vakesh is questioning if he really wants to give up aftereverythingthey have been throughtogether.”
I don’t need a translator for what happens next. Vakesh closes the distance between them and pulls Khazak in for a kiss. As the fog rolls in one final time, the audience breaks into applause. Once it dissipates, the full cast of the play can be seen on the arena floor, including the bear who I watch morph back into the shape of an orc.I forgot druids can do that. The group take a bow as the crowd gives them a standing ovation, one I have no choice but to join as my former chair stands himself.Honestly? Great show. Wouldsee again.
With the play done, people start to make their way out of the arena. Following right behind Ragnar and Nylan, we re-enter the arena’s lobby beneath the stands. Khazak again pulls us to the side once we can get free ofthe crowd.
“There is someone I wish to speak to before we head home,” Khazakexplains.
“Well, this has been areallyfun weekend, but we have work tomorrow,” Ragnar tells us as we split up for the evening.
“I miss sleeping in a real bed,” Nylan complains as he hugs me goodbye. “See ya, David. Goodbye, sir.”
As the two of them make their exit, Khazak leads me down a hall to a wooden door, knocking twice. A familiar orc woman opens the door, one of the two who seem to run this place. I spot her counterpart standing in the room behind her.
“Khazak!” She looks happy to see us and steps to the side, waving us in.
“Curator Brightdrum, I wanted to congratulate you and your sister on another successful festival.” Khazak smiles at them both warmly.
“Please, Khazak, we have known you your entire life.” The second orc crosses the room to meet us. “We are just Agra and Ti’gat.”
“And you know we cannot take all the credit,” the first orc continues. “The whole city works very hard to make this festival happen every year.”Everyone around here is so humble.“Tell me, did you happen to see the new panel we added to the Hall’s walls?”
“Yes, we did. It is truly an honor.” He puts his fist across his chest and bows. “Do you not agree, David?”
“Yes, it’s an honor,” I try not to say too stiffly.
I get a small laugh at my response. “You know, we were not sure you were gonna make it after you lost your match. Glad to see we were wrong.”
“He is nothing if not resilient,” Khazak clasps my shoulder, and I try not to roll my eyes.
“That certainly—” Agra pauses at the sound of a cat meowing, all four of us turning our heads up to the rafters to see the cat in question poking out from a hole in the wall above the rafters.The hell?
“Spirits be damned,” Agra mutters before turning to her sister. “Some of the actors are having issues removing their makeupglamours.”
“We better get over there,” Ti’gat says with a sigh before standing. “I hope you both had a wonderful festival.” She looks at me thoughtfully, clearly wanting aresponse.
“It’s been a lot of fun.Reallyinteresting.” It wasn’t anything like I could have expected, that’s for sure. “Is it a lot of work cleaning up afterall this?”
