Hey guys, just a quick note here before this chapter begins. As you can see, this is only part one to this chapter and it is shorter than what I normally do, this is because, as I have said in the past, I cannot dedicate much time to writing at the moment. I am trying to get out chapters in a quick succession but I refuse to sacrifice quality for quantity. Please bare with me, I will be trying to get out more chapters this month, no promises, and I do appreciate all of you who have taken the time out of your day to read this. The ending to this trilogy may be far off in the future, the ttrpg campaign this story is based on has been on pause for the better part of the past year and a half (reasoning for it is that we can't seem to get any of the players on at the same time) and so I am discussing with the DM (dungeon master) what the ending will look like as we feel that it may not be able to be concluded for a long time. This means that there may be two endings to this series, one being of mine and my DMs design and the other being that of the player's design. Enjoy the story and if something's don't line up, just blame it on the fact that I have been writing this for the past three or four months off and on again.
(P.S. for those who are wondering, my DM is the source himself, Jarada, yes he sort of inserted himself but all DMs are Gods in their games)
Cassandra
Cassandra cursed as her sword twirled through the air and landed on the stones with a loud clattering sound. She had thought she was getting better at holding her sword but every now and again brief glimpses of that monster flash through her mind and her hand begins to tremble. Fear had gripped her heart and brought her to her knees begging to be let free and that same fear now plagues her mind day and night.
Will I ever be free from these waking horrors? Cassandra thought as she knelt down and clutched her sword's hilt. No. I don't think I ever will be. I may die while constantly in fear of his return, but I refuse to allow my fears to carry me into the future and control my actions.
Cassandra lifted the sword up and with one swift downward stroke, cut the dummy in half. For the first time since Grall's death, Cassandra felt like her old self. Smiling to herself, Cassandra sheathed her sword and turned towards her room.
Something caught Cassandra's eye and she stared for a moment at the steps leading to her room. She thought she had seen a girl sitting there watching her, but no one was around. Shaking her head as if to rid herself of an unpleasant memory, Cassandra stepped forward, making sure to give the spot she saw Her a wide berth.
Sakurako
Sakurako watched as Cassandra walked past her, her mouth gaped. Has Cassandra finally seen her? Was she becoming more like her old self? Questions raced through Sakurako's mind but stopped as she noticed tears falling to the ground as Cassandra wept.
Grodak
Grodak cursed Imp under his breath, swearing to commit unspeakable atrocities towards him the next time they met. Grunting his annoyance, Grodak reached out to touch the shadow world only to find a power greater than his own preventing him.
"… guess I'll just have to beat everything to death with my bare hands." Grodak didn't speak to anyone in particular, he spoke only to break the silence that he found himself in. Heaving a heavy sigh, he begrudgingly started forward, his eyes scanning the area.
As he walked, hours passed, he encountered no resistance from the inhabitants, not even the slightest peep came from them. Anytime Grodak thought he caught sight of a demon in the distance, it quickly disappeared.
"I don't like this." He said as he kicked a nearby rock sending it flying through the air and splashing into a pool of magma some yards away. Grodak, angered by this blatant sign of what he could only assume was an ambush, yelled into the air. "If you wish for battle, then come face me you miserable piles of-" Grodaks voice trailed off as he heard what sounded like moans coming from the magma he had kicked the rock into earlier.
Smiling, Grodak turned and approached the pool, expecting to find a lava demon or something equally terrifying, what he didn't expect to find was Tyril half submerged into the lava pit, his only saving grace was the rock that had landed mere inches from Tyrils head. Tyril had clung to the rock as magma splashed onto his body, burning through his clothes and skin.
If this was any other man, Grodak would have sworn he was dead, yet he had seen Tyril survive worse. Reaching his arm into the pit, Grodak grabbed Tyrils arm that clung to the rock and dragged both him and the rock out of the pit. Everything below Tyrils waist was gone, taken by the heat of the magma, yet he made no sounds indicating pain or discomfort.
To Grodak, these were signs of a dying man and at this moment, he wholeheartedly believed that Tyril was about to breathe his last. "Damn." Grodak's voice came out barely even a whisper as he allowed his body to fall back onto the ground. "I'm sorry old friend, I should have come sooner."
Grodak sat for a moment pondering what to do next. He feared returning to the mortal realm and telling Queen Villinae about Tyrils death, the thought of what she could do to him caused shivers to run up and down his spine.
"Damnit." Grodak growled, pushing himself into a standing position. "I am not going to fear a single unarmed poorly trained woman. I wouldn't be able to call myself an orc or even a warrior if I allowed myself to become fearful of her."
Grodak looked down at Tyril's dying body, ready to lift him and carry him out of literal hell when he noticed, Tyrils legs had somehow grown back, he wasn't completely regenerated, but his legs above the kneecaps had regained their form.
Drillohiem
Drillohiem dodged to the right as Wreags sword buried itself into the ground where he once stood. Drillohiem quickly launched himself forward, attacking Wreags left flank, hoping that he could land a blow. Wreag easily knocked Oathkeeper to the side, sending shockwaves up Drillohiem's arms. Fighting Wreag was different from fighting the other orcs. He had no openings, no glowing dots, and the line he used as a guide only moved away from Wreag.
Drillohiem had tried to follow the line at the start of the battle, but quickly realized that the line was only motioning for him to run away. Wreag had never told him of such an occurrence, but Drillohiem knew what it meant. He was no match for Wreag.
Wreag was faster, stronger, and had years of experience that Drillohiem lacked. Yet, Drillohiem refused to lose. He refused to admit defeat and flee with his tail between his legs. This may be a training session to those on the outside, but to Drillohiem, this was something he would lay his life down for.
Jumping back a few feet, Drillohiem eyed Wreag, watching his movements and preparing his next attack. He didn't have much more to give, this battle had already lasted several hours and Drillohiem found himself weak and exhausted. This would be his last attack, if it didn't connect, his life would be forfeited.
As he began to accept his defeat and inevitable death, the line shifted. Drillohiem's first thought was that Wreag was about to attack and had already begun to follow the line, but then he noticed it. A small glowing dot at the center of Wreags back glowed faintly in the suffocating darkness, but just as quickly as it had appeared, it disappeared and the line changed directions.
Damn it. Drillohiem thought as he continued to follow the line. I acted too quickly and he noticed.
Wreag took three long strides and appeared in front of Drillohiem, his sword moving through the air aiming for his head. The line took a sharp dip and Drillohiem followed suit, sliding under Wreags legs and coming up behind him. Wreag tried to turn around, but it was already too late.
The dot from earlier now glowed brighter than before and Drillohiem didn't hesitate to attack. He plunged his sword into the middle of Wreags back, eliciting a howl of pain from Wreag. Wreag fell to the ground, clutching the exit wound.
Drillohiem held the sword in place for a moment as he tried to catch his breath. After a moment, Drillohiem tried to remove the blade from Wreags body, but it refused to move. Worry began to set in, if he cannot free his father's sword, this could turn out bad for him, especially if the other shadow orcs decided to join the fight. Out of all the battles he had ever experienced, this was already by far the toughest he had ever had, and if they joined in, even if he managed to free Oathkeeper, he feared he wouldn't be able to win.
Not wanting to waste time, Drillohiem plunged the sword deeper into Wreags back, then, with as much strength as he could muster, Drillohiem ripped Oathkeeper's blade from Wreags shadowy body. Drillohiem quickly gathered himself and readied for another attack that never came.
Drillohiem eyed the onlookers, already searching for the perfect path to carve through them. He wouldn't allow himself to let down his guard as he stood over Wreag. He had decided, if he was to fall today, he would make sure he would give them something to remember him by.
"That's enough." A voice behind Drillohiem said.
Drillohiem winced, he knew that voice and if he is behind him, then that means he has lost. Slowly, he lowered his sword and turned to face Wreag who appeared to be unarmed and fine. Resigned to death, Drillohiem threw Oathkeeper onto the ground at Wreags feet.
"It's my loss." Drillohiem said as he kneeled down ready to accept his death.
The entire plane remained silent for a long moment as Drillohiem continued to kneel on the ground staring into Wreags eyes. No one moved or spoke a word and tension began to build.
"Your loss?" Wreag asked, finally breaking the silence. "I do believe you are wrong, Drillohiem, Tallengar's successor."
Wreag bent down and picked up Oathkeeper, handing it to a confused Drillohiem. "On the contrary," Wreag spoke softly for the first time since Drillohiem's training had began, "you not only passed the test, but exceeded my expectations and showed a great deal of orcish pride."
Drillohiem bowed his head quickly to hide his eyes. He had rarely been given such words of praise from anyone, let alone an orc who saw him as a taint in their proud bloodline. The praise Wreag had given him had surprised Drillohiem and he found himself overcome with emotions.
"Come now, Drillohiem." Wreag said in a fatherly voice, one used to tease small children. "Are those tears I see?"
"Your eyesight must be failing you, Wreag." Drillohiem quipped back as he wiped the tears from his eyes. "My eyes are as dry as a dwarven forge."
Wreag let out a loud burst of laughter and patted Drillohiem on the back. "Come," he said as he motioned to Oathkeeper, "take up your sword and let's celebrate your passing of the final test."
Loud cheers could be heard all around as the shadow orcs piled into the great halls talking about the battle that had just taken place between the Talengar of old and new. For eons to come, the battle of the two Gods who represent Talengar would be told to all who would listen, eventually even making its way to the mortal plane.