Bloodlines

Part 1

The sun was high overhead as the Orcish tribe gathered around the old chieftain who walked forward appearing atop a ridge overlooking the outer edges of the swamp-lands. Snow had dusted the grounds of this area, which gave way to the forests and mountain range. This was the outskirts of the Orcish lands; the orcs kept to themselves here. The swamp lands were where they resided, untouched by the outside influence of the other beings that lived throughout the lands. The chieftain had seen many battles, but standing with him was a much younger Orc; this orc's head was shaved except for the center, which hung behind him tied off by a leather strap. His black hair was wavy but softer than most other Orcs. On his shoulder sat a hawk whose talons gripped his studded leather shoulder pad. Beneath the studded leather armor the young orc wore, he was firm yet needed to be fully grown.

The chieftain's hand rose above his head, and the Orcish tribe roared to life. They clanged their weapons together and cried as if ready to enter a great battle. "Quiet!" The chieftain yelled back at the crowd. The tribe of a few dozen male Orcish warriors in the swamp quieted, as did their various harems of female Orcs.

Orcish males frequently battled over the females, so there was always a distinct amount of more females than males, usually about twice as many females. The chieftain was the oldest and most battle-hardened of this Orcish tribe. He had a long scar along his cheek and across his eye. He stood there with this young Orcish male; he motioned for the young male to come forward and stand next to him atop the ridge he had brought the tribe to.

The orc with soft hair felt nervous, but he was pushed from behind roughly. The two female orcs, the chieftain and his U'Lien, looked at him sternly. They were both considered to be beautiful by orcs. The U'Lien reached for their daggers and growled at the orc with soft hair.

The young orc walked forward as he inhaled deep and slowly. The crunch of the snow underneath his bare feet. He looked down at the tribe; as he did this, a murmur of grunts and hushed speech could be heard. The young orc raised his double-sided battle ax above his head and in a primal yell.

He cried out, "I AM CARTH! Son of Orcs! I must go; I must see my place among Orcs!" Carth yelled this to the tribe as his hawk flapped its wings and screeched. The tribe yelled back at him while they beat their shields and chests. Carth turned back to face the chieftain and saw that he was holding a sack made of cloth that smelled funny to the young orc.

The chieftain handed the sack to Carth, "Eat only this. No drink." the old orc said to the younger orc. He reached out, grabbed the sack, and looked inside. Within the cloth sack was black moss and other fungus. The younger orc grunted in acknowledgment. The young orc knew it was tradition to only eat creeping black moss and other fungi.

Carth began to walk away from the ridge that overlooked the settlement that was the home of the Orcs; as he did this, he whistled, and his hawk soared into the sky. This was their territory; it was their swamp lands. But Carth was now to be a warrior, and he must leave on a vision quest.

As his feet quickly paced through the swamp, he had made it out of sight of his tribe when the ground began to shake. Following this, there was the sound of rock crumbling and trees falling, and then, off in the distance, a great plume of smoke could be seen rising into the air. The young orc stood steadfast while the swamp beneath him quivered and trembled. Carth looked up, watching his hawk circling him, knowing something was wrong. Carth had swayed with the Earth but remained standing and watched as the smoke rose above a large mountain. He began to walk toward the smoke, knowing it was a sign from the great sky chieftain that his vision quest would take him to that mountain. Carth's faithful hawk flew above him, keeping a watchful eye on his master.

Carth traveled quickly over the next few days. He only ate the black moss and fungus he had been given. He never rested; it was customary to do this when going on a vision quest. He walked by streams that were almost ready to freeze over as he had climbed further into the mountain range. He had been tempted to drink from them as he had alredy travelled through the swamp-lands into the forest and now was climbing the mountains before him. He never quenched his thirst, he knew that he must prove his tsrength to be seen as worthy to the tribe. Carth continuously watched the horizon and saw that the smoke always billowed out of the top of the great mountain, his destination. As he made his way ever closer, he began to notice that the colors of the things he saw would trail along the edges of his vision. He briefly looked up while whistling, and his hawk suddenly descended towards him. As he watched the hawk descend, he saw that the hawk lived up to its name. The dark feathered bird landed on his right arm, which had a long sleeve and glove made of leather. The hawk's mighty wings hit and beat against the orc's face slightly. The hawk screeched and then took off again after hearing a second whistle; the night hawk pushed off the orc's arm, spread its mighty wings, and flew ever higher until it circled above its master again. Carth watched as his large bird companion that helped him hunt and was his til death soarded upward.