Two hours before dawn.
The air crackled with anticipation as the tribe gathered in the center. Warriors clutched their bone and stone spears, axes, and bows.
Behind them lumbered a handful of orcs acting as escorts, tasked with hauling supplies – food, water, and spare weapons.
"What's he doin' here?" a gruff orc voice boomed, gesturing towards a figure approaching. All eyes turned to see Azrakar pushing his way to the front, with only a hide of some creature wrapped around his waist and another on his shoulders. He didn't have any weapons on him as he wasn't allowed to carry them in the first place.
"An outsider has no place in the big hunt" another orc warrior bellowed, his voice dripping with disdain, his fellow orcs echoed his example, Throwing insults at Azrakar, primarily focusing on his weak body and lack of combat skills.
In a tribal culture where strength means everything being weak was a sin.
Azrakar clenched his fists, and endured their insults, repeating to himself, 'Hold it Azrakar don't reply just keep walking, don't waste this chance.'
The barrage of insults continued, a relentless torrent, until…
"Enough!" A powerful voice boomed through the gathering, silencing everyone instantly. All eyes darted towards the source of the command, and the orcs bowed their heads in deference.
"Azrakar is here by my command," Chief Korgath declared, his imposing stature demanding respect. "Is there anyone here who has another saying on this?"
This perhaps was a simple question, but everyone present knows the hidden meaning of this. If anyone has anything to say then that means that they are challenging the Chief's word. And the consequence for that is a duel to the death.
Silence descended upon the gathering. No one dared utter a sound. Every orc harbored a secret ambition to claim the Chieftain's position, but they knew they needed to prove their strength first.
Chief Korgath, is a seasoned warrior honed by countless battles and he possesses an extraordinary strength. A strength that allowed him to claim the title of the longest-reigning Chieftain of the Stonehand Clan.
Witnessing the orcs cowering like scared little goblins, Azrakar's eyes sparkled with a hidden desire. 'This be the strength I seek.'
All Azrakar wanted was absolute strength. A strength that lets him do whatever he wants, a strength that will make every orc bow their head in respect and fear. A strength that can basically tell everyone to shut up.
'Hmm?...I kinda like that,' Azrakar mused, lost in his thoughts until the Chief's voice jolted him back to reality.
"Azrakar, report to the escort commander. He's expectin' ya,"
Azrakar acknowledged the order with a curt nod and turned to leave. But before he could take two steps, Chief Korgath reached out, grabbing his head and yanking him back.
Azrakar wasn't surprised by this since the Chief did it many times in the past and he got used to it.
'Heheh' he chuckled inwardly, for Azrakar, Chief Korgath was the closest thing to a father figure in his life.
"Never forget, Azrakar," the Chief rumbled, "Watch and learn"
"Me will, Chief," Azrakar replied.
Released from the Chief's grip, Azrakar retreated to the back of the gathering. Chief Korgath stood tall, his gaze sweeping over the assembled warriors and hunters.
"Orcs of the Stonehand Clan!" he bellowed, his voice resonating across the gathering. "As is tradition, our prey migrates close to our borders each year. Their meat, bones, and hides are what keep us alive in this forsaken land"
Pausing and scanning their faces, Chief Korgath noticed that his hidden message was well understood by everyone.
'If we fail the big hunt, we will suffer'
For that reason, Chief Korgath wanted to try something new this time, something to urge the orc hunters in front of him to try a little harder.
"In this hunt," he declared, his voice thick with power, "I, Chief Korgath of the Stonehand Clan, will grant the title of Warlord to the orc who bags the largest prey!"
"!!!" Instantly every orc widened his eyes in shock, and that shock was just for a second before quickly replaced by a thunderous eruption of cheers as the orcs roared their Chieftain's name.
Even Azrakar, positioned at the back with the escorts, couldn't help but feel a jolt of surprise. A dangerous notion began to fester in his mind. 'Warlord...acquiring that position would solve all me problems within the clan.'
BOOOO!!
His train of thought was interrupted by the blare of a horn, signaling the commencement of the hunt.
…
The Stonehand tribe resided at the gateway to the golden plains. To their left stretched the vast expanse of the Endlance plains, while to their right loomed a series of what's known as the Misty Mountain— a realm of unknown and difficult-to-traverse paths.
Anyone who dared to venture deep inside would never be heard from him again, and today, Chief Korgath's hunting party was entering it, thankfully for Azrakar and the other orc, their destination was just on the borders since even Chief Korgath with all of his might and experience dared not venture too far.
Step. Step.
"Halt!" Korgath barked, raising a hand to signal the party to stop. The unmistakable sound of approaching footsteps had pierced the tense silence.
"Chief, me found the herd," two orcs—scouts— reported, approaching Korgath. Their expressions betrayed their excitement.
"Well done. Same location as usual?" he inquired.
The scouts exchanged a glance before confirming, "Same spot, Chief. However, this is a different herd this time around."
"What do you mean? Explain," Korgath demanded, a furrow etching his brow.
The two scouts glanced at each other nervously before explaining "Chief, it's the Alpha herd. We spotted the Alpha Bison."
"!!!" Korgath's eyes widened in surprise. A guttural growl escaped his throat as he unconsciously clutched his left shoulder. "He's back," he muttered, his yellow eyes flickering with a dangerous glint. "This time, he won't escape me."
He pivoted towards his hunting party and bellowed,"Stonehand! From this moment we're not in a hunt anymore"
"..." A hush fell over the orcs as they absorbed their Chieftain's words. His voice echoed through the mountains, reaching even Azrakar at the back of the escort party.
Korgath continued, his voice heavy with purpose, "This is a battle! A chance for vengeance after thirty long years. A chance to slay the Alpha Bison!"
"!!!" The muscles of every orc tensed as the gravity of the situation sank in. The hunt had transformed into a battle, and the Alpha Bison was the target of their vengeance.
Without further delay, Chief Korgath issued the order to resume their advance. Since the herd frequented the same location each year, the initial hunting strategy remained unchanged – at least for the regular Bison charger. As for the Alpha, Chief Korgath will handle him personally.
However, the orcs harbored their own ambitions. In their eyes, the Alpha was the most coveted prize. Slaying it would guarantee the Warlord position, and perhaps even more. The Stonehand Clan held a deep-seated grudge against the Alpha. If someone, besides the Chief, managed to slay the beast, they could potentially claim a greater reward, some even fantasizing about usurping the Chieftain's position.
…
Navigating the narrow, winding paths of the Misty Mountains proved arduous for the orcs' bulky physiques. They were forced to advance in a single file, sometimes even sideways, a cumbersome and frustrating process. Azrakar, however, due to his smaller stature, navigated the treacherous path with relative ease.
The path ends at a wide plateau located between two mountains, exiting the path Korgath immediately led the party left, and after a few minutes of marching, they reached the entrance of a descending valley.
Korgath cast a glance at Grimgar, the orc on his right, and issued a directive, "Proceed as planned. Stay sharp and quiet, the Alpha herd is nearby."
Nodding in understanding Grimgar and a few selected orcs at his command immediately went to prepare the scene for the herd, all this Valley was the only wide path for the Bison chargers to enter the golden plains, making it the ideal location to lay a trap.
Azrakar and the escorts were positioned on the cliffs overlooking the valley, while half the warriors followed Chief Korgath down into the valley itself.
Preparations for the hunt commenced swiftly. Azrakar was tasked with distributing stone spears – five to ten each – to the warriors stationed along the cliffside. And oh boy! There were a lot of warriors.
'Sigh…Endure it Azrakar you're here to learn, don't waste this chance' he kept reminding himself. Each time he presented a spear to a warrior, it would be snatched away with disdainful remarks about a weak outsider not being worthy of touching their weapons.
Azrakar found it stupid, it was literally his job for the time being, Yet as always most orcs are stupid and the only language they understand is a fist to the face—if you can do it that is.
Meanwhile, Chief Korgath and his warriors toiled away, diligently blocking the path with boulders and sharpened logs.
It took more than two hours of preparation, especially with blocking the path, with the valley being relatively wide, and Korgath wanted to hunt as many Bions as possible, however, his primary focus was always on the Alpha.
As soon as he thought of him, a signal came from one of the scouts. Before they could decipher the message, they felt it.
Quack. Quack.
A cacophony of quacks echoed through the valley, followed by the earth trembling beneath their feet. An unmistakable sound filled the air: the thunderous pounding of hooves.
"He's here," Korgath growled, tightening his grip on his spear. "To your positions, NOW!"