Loyal to the Light

Seizing a New Chance

Once more, Hagra woke with a pounding headache. He covered his face with his hands and grumbled under his breath, deciding that bad things only came after good ones, and that this at least made life worth living. And then he wondered what he was thinking. And then he got up.

Around him, other orcs drowsed or snored, their dreams holding the hangovers at bay until they awoke. Hagra staggered, putting out his hand to the wall to keep himself upright, and realized something was wrong. Ronk was not there. He was staring at an empty place beside him, the ground was cold, and Ronk was gone. "Eh?" Hagra dropped to his knees, patting the soil as his mind worked to figure out what had happened. "'E was 'ere last night, I'm sure...." But beyond Ronk being at his side during the feast, he could make out nothing else that would give him a clue.

Pushing to his feet again, Hagra found himself just in time for the Captain coming through and waking everybody up. However this time, it wasn't because the Bright Lord was going to give them a new test, but so they could get started on training. Grizeek the Flayer, Hagra's Captain, was pacing back and forth in the training area, his whip out and flicking from side to side. "Alright, you maggots!" He roared as soon as they were all present. "Bright Lord's decided you lot need to learn somethin' more about fightin' than y'do now. We've gathered our best fighters in 'ere," he gestured to a line of orcs and ologs on the opposite side of the training grounds, "an' your job is to do yer best to beat 'em!"

Most of the orcs around Hagra shouted with anticipation, their instincts already burning to give battle. Hagra himself, meantime, was noting the absence of both his friend and the Bright Lord. His attention was yanked back when the Captains present began urging the orcs forward towards their new opponents.

The training was brutal; several orcs died and most were left with serious injuries. Hagra was one of the few who got off with lighter wounds: his stomach was bleeding from a bad slice and he had several cuts along his arms and upper body. But he was able to walk and that was something. The Captains let those who did the best take a break after training and that was something more. With the other orcs he went to the grog barrels and they patched up their injuries and talked about the training. Hagra's mind, however, was elsewhere. Ronk was still not back and he hadn't seen the Bright Lord anywhere since last night.

"So," he asked one of the others, a lithe fellow named Griklûz with no less than three scars over his left eye, "if the Bright Lord sees some of us doin' better'n the others, what'd'ya think he'd do?"

He got a mild glare from the orc, who was still drinking his grog. Griklûz put down his cup and swallowed before replying. "An' how'd you suppose I'd know? Boss's a Tark, not an uruk. He'd be more predictable if 'e was, but he's not, so what do you want me t'say about it?" He went back to drinking.

But one of the others was also intrigued by Hagra's question. He now spoke up. "Yeah, 'e's right. What would the Boss do if he saw someone 'e liked?"

"Put 'im at the 'ead of 'is army, I reckon." Said Stakrak, an uruk from Hagra's company. He bore a shield and a spear, even now, and they seemed to weigh nothing in his hands. His thick voice droned on. "Maybe 'e'd let 'im eat at 'is table, or somethin'. Be a right good time."

Hagra jeered. "As if! Bright Lord has bigger plans an' better rewards for us than that. Besides, I was wonderin' what he'd do now." He glanced back at the Captains, who were yelling at those who had failed their test. "Y'see, one of us disappeared last night, an' I haven't seen the Bright Lord since."

The others leaned in closer to hear him. Griklûz shook his head remorsefully. "Sounds like the Bright Lord decided to off 'im personal, if you ask me. I 'eard he does that to some orcs 'e don't like. Chucks their bodies in the forest, he does, for the beasts to devour. No witnesses."