A commotion erupted in the city of Grunthree as every guard near Bruger and General Okurnion gathered inside the building. Others, stationed further away, heard the horn's call and received orders verbally to remain vigilant in their current positions, ready for further instructions. Without needing explicit details, they understood how to respond.
Each guard in Grunthree wore either light or heavy armor, depending on their rank. While the armor designs varied, they all wore silver armor, a distinctive feature known to every citizen of the city. The majority of the citizens lived in poverty, teetering on the brink of starvation. A few among the wealthy class, however, were able to pay homage to the new king, Azuk. These wealthy orcs continued to lead luxurious lives, growing even richer amidst the rising poverty. Despite the stark divide between rich and poor, both groups heard the horn's call, equally clueless about the reason for the heightened alert.
"Do you hear that? It's time to move!" one orc guard said to another, prompting them both to grab their weapons and leave their seats in a bar. They left without paying their tab, a routine the barkeep had grown accustomed to. He knew better than to confront them, his only concern being that they enjoyed his mead enough not to destroy his establishment, as life was already difficult.
"I wonder what's happening," the barkeep whispered to himself.
The barkeep continued to clean his few wooden cups, trying to ignore the sounds of the horns. He still had two customers, and, above all else, they seemed to have coins. He didn't want to risk them seeing him idle. Once he finished cleaning the last cup, he walked over to their table, moving slowly to avoid seeming too pushy.
"Another round? Or perhaps you would like something to eat?" he asked.
"This mead tastes awful, but it's the best I've had around here. Hmm... sure, why not, I'll take another," the young man said.
"You really like that nasty stuff? Blah... yeah, I'll take another apple juice, please!" said the young woman.
"Right away!" the orc barkeep replied before walking off.
They sat at a table in the far corner of the bar, near a wooden beam. The man wore a black long-sleeved shirt and black pants. His shiny, silvery breastplate and pauldrons made him stand out, and the only other parts of his armor that didn't shine as brightly were his vambraces and greaves. His face was hidden by the shade of a black hood, but his light blonde hair was visible. The young woman, on the other hand, wore no breastplate or pauldrons. Instead, she wore a beautiful blue dress that allowed for mobility, with light vambraces and greaves for added protection. She also wore a gray hood.
"It seems they had other matters to attend to. I'm afraid we'll have to interrogate some other poor souls," the man said.
"What a pain. I hope this is the city so we can finally head home," she muttered.
"I hope so too. But if he isn't here, we'll have to keep searching until we find him. That means searching through that forest."
The young woman's hair matched the same shade of blonde as the young man's, and her face was also hidden, though someone could make out their pale skin from the shadows.
"Here you two go, a mead and an apple juice for the young lady," the barkeep said, placing the drinks on the table.
"Thank you very much. Here is for our tab," the man said, tossing a coin pouch onto the table.
"Ah! No, sir, I can't accept this. It is way beyond the tab!" the barkeep exclaimed, noticing the lump of coins in the pouch.
"You're right, huh? How about this: in exchange for whatever is in this pouch, you tell us a little something about this town. If it's worth my time, I'll let you keep it."
The barkeep, nervously sweating, then stared into the hood of the young man. "He's an elf!" he thought, noticing his two pointed ears.
—
The city of Grunthree had two distinct town centers. The city's centers were actually around the town hall, the tallest building with three floors, designed like a medieval church to inspire awe. On one side of the entrance was a large garden, and on the other side was a well called the Common Man's Well. These areas constituted the two town centers and were always bustling with people. Despite the city's depressive state, many still came to these places seeking peace and comfort. Both the well and the garden were well-maintained and trimmed daily, as the town hall was Bruger's "castle," and the garden symbolized his wealth and status. The well was filled with clean drinking water, and the bricks around it were neatly kept. The beautiful design of the brick floor attracted daily crowds. However, the people at the well were now forced out of the center.
At the top of the town hall stood a man holding a giant horn, which he blew for the last time, signaling the end by blowing it twice in a row. The horn's sound was loud and reminiscent of a war signal. Guards gathered within the center of the well, while many others formed a giant circle around the area, keeping the crowds at bay. The people outside the circle asked questions about why the guards had organized in this manner. All the people and guards present were of the Orc race.
The circle of guards had an opening on one side that led directly to one of the two entrances of the town hall. From the entrance walked out a man whose presence weighed heavily on every soul there; no one felt at ease. Bruger, with both hands behind him, walked slowly down the steps from the entrance until he reached the center. Behind him followed Okurnion and four other Orcs.
One of the captives was a young boy, no older than 9, while the other two were young women in their twenties. The last captive was a man who appeared to be around 40 years old. As the people gathered around, gasps filled the air, drawing more onlookers to the scene. Conversations and whispers buzzed among the crowd, as they all too well understood the gravity of the situation. The crowd knew that the two women were innocent, and that the boy was the most innocent of them all. However, the man was a member of the warriors who had once protected the people of Grunthree before their power was usurped.
Okurnion guided the four captives by chains, and when they reached the foot of the steps, he made them kneel down. Bruger responded by raising both of his arms, smiling, and closing his eyes. This gesture puzzled many in the crowd, leading to utter silence. Not a single sound could be heard. Any sudden noise could lead to imprisonment or even the death penalty. Women with newborns or children would have avoided the area, knowing they couldn't control their children's sounds. As the bitter silence lingered, Bruger breathed in heavily, trying to savor the moment.
"What a wonderful day..." he said aloud, though his inner thoughts were serious and focused. Bruger had expected an arrow to come flying towards him, but none did. He realized that they were not dealing with Org or his comrades, as he had suspected. A quick glance at Okurnion conveyed that Bruger had been mistaken.
"No matter," he whispered under his breath. "Here, my people of Grunthree, there are a few evildoers on the loose. They have tarnished my name, defied my authority, and killed my guards. Until they are found, every day I will execute four people. Starting today, we begin with these four. These are four innocent lives that do not deserve to die. However, until these culprits are found, I will not stop. Random people will be selected after them. I truly hope it's none of you. Your only clue is that they are outsiders. Do everything in your power to find these impostors, or risk being next on the chopping block."
Bruger's voice carried greater authority and grace as he spoke. After his last sentence, a swing from Okurnion's sword cleaved through flesh and bone, decapitating one of the women.
The gathered crowd watched in horror and fear, convinced that only by appeasing the mad Bruger could they feel safe. Some screamed in terror, while others stood frozen, unable to act. The surviving woman panicked, witnessing the brutal demise of her companion. She pleaded and screamed for help from the onlookers, but no one lifted a finger to assist her. In a grim moment of realization, her own head was swiftly removed, leaving her lifeless body to collapse to the ground.
The Orc man met a different fate. A blunt sword was driven through his lower back and out through his stomach, ensuring a slow and agonizing death, beyond even the reach of advanced healing magic.
"Now, the best for last!" Bruger declared, finally turning to face his victims.
The young boy, who had never harmed anyone in his short life, stared into the eyes of the infamous monster, Bruger Frathgar. It was a gaze of cruelty and pure evil.
Takagi watched from a distance, struggling to contain his revulsion at the gruesome scene unfolding before him. He had never imagined such sickening cruelty could be displayed so openly. Next to him, Shelur stood, a mix of anger and sorrow, leaning more towards anger. Hanz and Muk, standing beside them, sensed something terrible was happening but couldn't see clearly from their position at the back of the crowd. They wished they were taller, judging by their attempts to jump and see, but if they had witnessed the horror, they would have regretted their wish.
"Okurnion, this little one is mine!" Bruger declared, giving a smug smile as he took out a small knife. "Have you ever seen someone get skinned alive, boy? Get ready; today, you get a front-row seat!" he said, his tone dripping with malice.
The small boy could only cower in despair and fear.
"Enough!" a loud whisper rang out, though it was not loud enough to reach most ears. It carried a deep anger.
Shelur swiftly climbed atop a wooden structure and drew her bow, aiming quickly and flawlessly. She pulled the string taut, ensuring both power and accuracy, before releasing the arrow with a slight sound.
"...keep your eyes open, boy. I've got..." Bruger's words were cut short as he noticed the arrow hurtling towards him. He deftly caught it just before it struck his head, a display of skill that elicited a wicked smile from him.
"You see that, Okurnion? That's how we draw out our enemies!" he exclaimed, his smile growing wider.