I have been advised by King Tyril, whom I now believe deserves my respect, he is not the childish moron I first believed him to be, to write down my experience as it happens. So, from this point on, for the sake of my sanity and to be able to accurately tell my story, I will be writing down my experiences as they happen, or rather as soon as they have finished, to prevent any misunderstandings of the events that had happened. I was also advised to give up my pursuit of ridding myself of this curse, I do not know if the advice was given to me for my well being or that of my damn brothers.
My apologies, I am, as I have the habit of doing, getting ahead of myself. When I last left off, I had just arrived at whitewater on my way to the Scar to "request" an audience with my brother, Grodak. But, I could not allow myself to appear in front of him looking the way I did so I was going to stop in Whitewater and buy a new set of clothes, armor included as mine was torn and in disarray.
When I arrived, I was greeted at the gates by the guards, something that would not seem unusual normally but what bothered me was the question they asked. They asked me if I was there to see their king, Tyril the boy king, to accept the job he had posted about. I was ready to decline but then they mentioned another orc had already appeared and accepted the request.
I requested some time to make myself presentable before meeting with their king, to which they graciously obliged. I left their company and quickly sought out some new fabrics and leather armor. Once equipped with appropriate attire, I asked for the guard to lead the way.
Thank the Gods I did not try to find it on my own as the city was like a maze, no doubt set up to confuse any enemy forces that tried to invade. The guard, I am assuming he grew up on these streets, navigated them with ease, never wavering from his path. He led me to the gates of the castle and spoke briefly with another soldier who allowed us entry.
Before I knew it, I was face to face with King Tyril himself, his hair white, eyes red, and he wore plain clothes. I felt it would be rude to not bow and show respect to someone who has a higher status than I but the idea of bowing my head to him, someone I saw as below me, almost caused me to strike him down just for the sake that I could.
Then he spoke, his voice calm and showing maturity past his apparent age. "Another orc?" His lips twitched into an amused smile that disappeared as quickly as it appeared.
"So," he said with, what I can only assume was boredom, "have you come to accept the request like the other orc?"
I scoffed at him, irritated that he was wasting so much of my time. I did not care for any request he had to offer, I only wished to see the jackass of a brother that had abandoned me to my fate and hurled me out of my clan as if I had used magic in front of him. Tyril, whom I must admit is wiser beyond his years, leaned forward in his polished throne and smiled. He obviously was amused by me though he tried to not let it show.
"Are you here, in an audience with the King of Whitewater, for another reason?" Try as he might, he could not hide the sense of amusement he felt from his voice. "Perhaps, you are looking for your clan leader and hope to find him here."
It was not a question and I felt the need to correct him. "I have no clan leader, nor do I belong to any such clans."
"Ah, I see." He said as he leaned back in his throne, a dasari, or perhaps pyroniam for I always get them confused, appeared beside him. Tyril seemed to acknowledge his presence but nothing else so I ignored him as well. "So you are clanless? And, for the sake of not repeating myself, you have yet to answer my question."
"I seek my brother, Grodak." I spoke my brother's name with venom hidden behind my tone. "I was told you may know of his location so that I may speak to him."
Tyril seemed to ponder for a moment before raising a hand towards the dasari, motioning for him to lean closer. The dasari bent down and they appeared to talk in hushed tones before Tyril's attention turned back to me.
"I do know where he is," Tyril seemed almost too excited as he shifted uncontrollably in his seat, "but first, I must test you."
"Test?" I felt a strange sense of hatred at the word, the previous test being the cause of all my misfortune. "Why must I be tested and in what way?"
Without answering, Tyril pressed something on the arm of his throne and the sound of a latch releasing rang out. Four dogs, their fur almost transparent white, red eyes, and enlarged fangs and claws moved from behind the throne and stood ready to attack me. I had to bite my tongue to keep from laughing out loud at how ridiculous this situation was.
I unsheathed Oathkeeper and charged forward, cutting down two of the dogs before leaping back in order to dodge the third and fourth. As I landed on the ground, I sent my shadow to take care of one, quickly chopping its head off and leapt forward driving the point of my sword into the mouth of the fourth and final dog, skewering it. The animal stood still for a moment before toppling over, the weight almost taking my sword with it.
I quickly pulled my sword free of the animal's flesh, the sounds of metal scraping bone ranged loud and clear throughout the throne room. Without a second thought, I flicked my sword splattering blood and viscus on the floors and walls before carefully wiping the blade off.
"Did I pass your "test"?" I asked, not bothering to look up as I finished wiping the blade down. I'll be honest, I expected anger, sorrow, or at least some yelling, instead I received applause and laughter from the king.
I looked up, expecting to see a deranged young man in place of the young king but only found what I had seen prior. Tyril sat on his throne laughing and clapping his hands as he exclaimed to the dasari. "He killed them by himself. All four of them."
"I see that, my lord," the dasari said in a satisfied tone, "he will be someone we can rely on."
Tyril frowned at being called a lord and waved his hand. "Impartis, stop it with the whole lord thing. I hate it when people treat me as if I am special just because I wear a crown."
The dasari, Impartis, opened his mouth to speak but I cut him off. "Are you going to tell me where my brother is now?"
Tyril raised an eyebrow before pointing a single finger behind me. I turned to look and as if they had choreographed the scene, Grodak walked in. He looked just how I remember him, maybe a bit thinner around the waist but his black hair, blue eyes, and over pronounced underbite that all the females loved. All six foot eight of this muscled monster that had thrown his own younger brother out of the Scar stood in front of me.
"Hey, Tyril, I need to…." Grodaks words trailed off as he noticed me. A look of shock came over him, then sorrow, before quickly turning into anger. "Grall."
"Brother." I said, my hands trembled at the sight of him. I wanted to unsheathe the sword at my waist, the very same sword he had made for me when I first became clan leader, and plunge it into his gut, ripping him open and bathing in his blood. I steadied myself, I was here not for his blood, not for vengeance, but to rid myself of the curse our father had thrusted onto me.
It didn't take long for me to calm myself down, but when I went to speak, I was quickly silenced. Grodak, of all people, threw a punch when I wasn't expecting it and caught the left side of my face, sending me sprawling to the ground like some weak human. It didn't hurt, I doubt it was meant to cause me physical pain, it did, however, hurt my pride.
Standing back up, I squared my shoulders and looked Grodak in the eyes, daring him to do it again. Whether my brother was too scared to or he just thought I wasn't worth it, I do not know, as he left shortly after. Anger and rage that had been building up since my clan abandoned me and threw me into the wilderness came to the surface and I was about to follow and show him that I am not as weak as he presumes but was stopped by a hand on my shoulder.
Tyril, the boy king, was standing next to me, his hand resting on my shoulder. "Now that you have found your brother," he said, giving my shoulder a slight squeeze, "why don't we sit down and have a talk."
I tried to argue and say that I must follow him but Tyril, being wiser than I, forced me into a corner. "Your anger, whether it is justified or not, will not help you with whatever you seek from your brother. Now, sit and let's talk. I want to hear all about your reasons for finding your brother."
He was right, so I sat and talked to him, explaining what had transpired in the Scar, how I was banished for something that was so minor, my journey to the Vaadrea woods where I met my wife, Leah, her death and later my son's death, and finally ended with my hopes of Grodak being able to take this curse away from me.
As I spoke, I noticed Tyril mirroring my emotions, as though he had once lived through similar situations. I was perplexed, at first, as I had not expected someone, let alone a human, to sympathize with me.
"I think I understand." Tyril said after a moment of silence where I fought to control my emotions. "I know how it feels to lose the only person you ever trusted and loved but you cannot take it out on others."
He paused for a moment and I took the opportunity to interject. "I am not taking it out on others," I said, hurrying my words along as I felt I had already taken up much of Tyril's time, "I only wish to rid myself of this… curse."
"Where you may see it as a curse," Tyril spoke softly, once more showing wisdom beyond his years, "but others, such as your brother, may see it as a gift. One that cannot and should not be passed on to someone who is not ready for such obligations."
Tyril paused, allowing me a moment to absorb what he had said before continuing. "I have met many from your clan, the Red Tusk, and only one has ever had an ability similar to yours, though he would never use it the same way you did today."
I looked into Tyril's red eyes in puzzlement, confused as to how he had met even a single orc of my tribe outside the battlefield. "Who? My father?"
Tyril laughed boisterously, slapping his knee as he wiped tears from his eyes. "I did meet your father," he said once he was able to compose himself, "though it was only on the battlefield."
"How?" I questioned, he couldn't be old enough to have met my father when he came to reclaim this land for the orcs, yet a part of me doubted that.
"I am much older than I appear," he said simply, "now enough of that. If you are willing to accept my advice, then try to get along with your brother. If he knows of a way to transfer this curse, as you call it, then he would be more willing to help you if he knew you had remorse over what happened between the two of you."
I opened my mouth to speak, ready to shoot the idea of helping my brother down but was immediately interrupted, the words dying on my lips. "Adian?" Tyril said as he looked past me, his expression changing back into the same expression he had when I arrived. "What's wrong, my friend?"
I turned and followed Tyril's line of sight and saw, standing in the doorway, a human with light brown hair and blue eyes, his skin that weird dark color humans get when they spend too much time in the sun. Beside the human stood a black panther and white wolf, both of whom seemed to not care for anyone in the room save for their master, whom I am assuming is the human, Adrian.
"Oh." Adrian said as he realized I was also in the room. "Am I interrupting anything?"
With a low sigh, I stood and walked towards the door, answering his question along the way. "No, I was just leaving." As I came to the door, I turned back to Tyril and bowed my head in appreciation. "Thank you for the advice, Tyril."
With this, I took my leave and asked a guard to guide me to my brother and, after some back and forth, I was brought to a blacksmith workshop. Of course he would be here. Whenever Grodak and I had arguments in the past, he would bury himself in his forge in order to drown out his thoughts. Usually, I would leave him to it, but then again, usually I had too much on my plate to find time to talk to him.
It didn't take much to get his attention, I just threw a piece of scrap metal onto whatever it was he was working on. I knew this would piss him off but it would also get him to notice me. As soon as the scrap metal touched the anvil Grodak spun to face me, his face taking on a red hue.
"What do you think you are doing?" Grodak shouted, spittle flew out of his mouth hitting me in the face. "It's bad enough you destroyed what little happiness I had, now you want to destroy one of my crafts."
Initially, I grew angry at him over the accusation that I "destroyed his happiness" when he was the one who abandoned me, but I kept my composure. I knew that if I let him anger me in this way, I would only say something that I would regret in the end.
"We need to talk." I said, it wasn't what I wanted to say, but it was all I could say without possibly damaging our relationship even further.
Grodak drew his arm back, as if he was ready to strike me again, I did not move, I did not flinch or whimper, I just stood there staring into his eyes. In truth, I wanted him to swing at me, to throw a punch so that I could teach him that I was not as weak as he so desperately wanted me to be, but the hit never came. Instead, his arms just fell to his side and he looked away from me.
"Fine." He said after a moment of silence, his voice echoing that of a defeated warrior. "If you want to talk, then talk."
"I want you to take this 'gift' away from me." I said bluntly, my voice sounding unsure even in my ears.
Grodak seemed to not hear my tone as he burst into laughter. "Take it away from you?" He said between laughing fits which pissed me off more, but I was resolute in my way and he would not push me to do anything I would regret. "If I could do that, don't you think I would have done so when I banished you from the Scar. No, I cannot, nor would I ever, take your gift away from you."
"What are you talking about?" I exclaimed in anger, I was at the breaking point, but I still held on to my sense of reasoning. "Father gifted me with this ability, so he must have taught you, the original heir, how to take it away."
Grodak stared at me for a long moment, his eyes burrowing deep into me, before he spoke again. "No. Father did not 'gift' you that ability, he had no such power to do so. That ability chooses who it wants to be wielded by and it chose you."
Before I could reply, the human and dasari from before, Adrian and Impartis, came into the blacksmiths and started rambling on about something, their voices overlapping each other as they tried to speak over the other. Grodak, already angered by my presence, could not contain himself as he stormed off and out of Whitewater. As I write this, I am following behind at a slow pace, trying to give him time to calm down and collect his thoughts before we continue our conversation.