[i]It was a grey dawn that day, hanging above Maulakanth like an oppressive presence. He strode with purpose towards the Hand's Cave in the center of Orsinium. Today was the day. Maulakanth's new twinned blades were sheathed across his back, a gift from his smith-mother, freshly sharpened so that he might better cast down his father -- not in anger but in righteous challenge. Such was the way of the Orsimer. Only death could pay for power. All sorts of people gathered to watch his approach, flickering in and out of view at the edges of his vision. He saw other orcs, the inhabitants of Orsinium, but strange visitors too; the catfolk of the sands, armored knights from the heartlands and large, golden snake-people with twisted faces and long weapons... 

The skies parted and revealed Magnus, shielded by Masser and Secunda in a prophetic double eclipse. Tall, deep shadows were cast everywhere, and Maulakanth could hear the snake-people laugh and whisper. Somewhere, the voice of his mother rang. 

[color=8dc73f]"I give you these blades, Maulakanth, most powerful of my sons. Kill your father. Let Maulakanth the son die, and Maulakanth the Hand be born."[/color]

The plaza in front of the Hand's Cave had been turned into an enormous amphitheater for the occasion, its stands rising dozens of yards into the air. The place was packed to the brim and Maulakanth looked around him, soaking in the sight of tens of thousands of mortals, come to watch him ascend. Mauloch himself, a dark figure of blade-edges and smoke, looked down at him. Maulakanth returned his attention to his enemy, who came slowly walking towards him in full orcish plate, his face hidden behind a sculpted helmet depicting a snarling demon. 

[color=39b54a]"Narzul,"[/color] Maulakanth heard himself say and drew his swords, the grips familiar in his hands. [color=39b54a]"Father."[/color]

Narzul gro-Urgak, Hand of Mauloch, dipped his morning star and tower shield in response. [color=a2d39c]"Maulakanth. My son. Are you ready?"[/color]

[color=39b54a]"It's time, father. I am ready. Defend yourself."[/color]

Narzul swung his heavy morning star at Maulakanth, who raised his swords in defense. The morning star grew to a massive size and almost threatened to crush Maulakanth entirely, so the aspiring Hand cut through the orichalcum and stepped inside, through the ragged tear, into a tavern. Fog roiled along the floor and Maulakanth could hear the sound of hoofbeats and screaming outside. Maulakanth suddenly realized that he was on the floor, shaking and sweating, and a whole quiver worth of crossbow bolts protruded from his abdomen. Lurking above him was a Breton, covered from head to toe in ink, swirling around his skin like Herma-Mora's tentacles. 

Behind the Breton, the word [color=red]TRAITOR[/color] was spelled out in blood across the tavern wall. 

[color=gold]"Oh, is the almighty Maulakanth admitting us puny mortals are a threat?"[/color] he heard the Breton say. The voice seemed to be coming from all around him and the Breton bared his teeth into a vile grin. [color=gold]"Get yer shite together, lad. You've killed enough today. I have much more pressing shite to do than talk with a pathetic orc who needs his next fix. Is the almighty Maulakanth admitting us puny mortals are a threat?"[/color]

Maulakanth tried to speak. No words would come -- only a gurgle of blood. 

[color=gold]"Is the almighty Maulakanth admitting us puny mortals are a threat?"[/color]

The floorboards shattered beneath him and he fell into the darkness below, but the Breton specter didn't disappear. Instead, he filled Maulakanth's vision like a towering giant, his green eyes dripping with poison. 

[color=gold]"You heard the gentleman in the fancy armour, king's justice awaits our friend who clearly doesn't want any."[/color]

With all the strength he could muster, Maulakanth raised his arms, grasping for the Breton's throat. By Malacath, he would strangle the life out of this damn traitor and --[/i]

[hr]

Gasping for breath, Maulakanth awoke with a start. He blinked a few times to clear his eyes and raised his head to see where he was. It was dark, but he could see something resembling wooden boards above him. Something made a munching sound behind him. Groaning, he gingerly touched his abdomen, relieved to find the crossbow bolt missing and another smooth scar in its place. He tried to remember what had happened -- oh yes, the bar fight. The guards. And that [i]fucking Elkman.[/i] 

He sat up straight. Several horses were next to him, slowly chewing on their hay, and one of them turned its equine snout to look at him with dumb, empty eyes. He was on a cart in a stable, resting on a bed of several kinds of food. Maulakanth scoffed and clambered out of the cart, taking a second to stretch his limbs and roll his neck. He reached for his swords -- fortunately not left behind -- and slung them around his torso again. The familiar itch was still there, hungering for a strength potion, but he put that aside. Now that his body wasn't suffering from internal injuries he was a little more resilient to his addiction's siren call. 

As soon as Maulakanth stepped outside he knew where he was. Camlorn. He'd been to the city before, for something work-related, though he couldn't remember what it was anymore. The stable he'd just left was part of an inn that Maulakanth figured his so-called allies must be staying at. A thought occurred to him and he paused for a second. [i]They did not leave you behind,[/i] a voice in his mind told him. Whatever the Elkman's faults, he had apparently not insisted on surrendering Maulakanth to the city guard after all. Scoffing again, this time at himself, Maulakanth squared his shoulders. Several people on the street stared, their mouths gaping shamelessly. [color=39b54a]"What?"[/color] Maulakanth snapped, turned his back to them and stalked into the tavern. 

Several of his allies were seated at a table, having a muted conversation over some food and drink. Maulakanth could see Kiralla, Brynn, Faruq, Gaela -- ah, and there was Cedric. With a grim look on his face, Maulakanth approached the table and cleared his throat, his tusks bared in a grimace. [color=39b54a]"Cedric. Outside. I want to talk."[/color]


The Elkman was rather occupied with the others and somehow failed to notice Maulakanth's approach, perhaps naively assuming he wouldn't have been rising up from the wagon for quite some time. The Reachman looked up at the orc with weary eyes, not quite trusting the orc's intent. On the plus side, his language wasn't confrontational. Maybe this wouldn't end up in murder. Letting out a long sigh, Cedric rose up from the table. [color=gold]"Excuse me, friends, it would seem I am wanted. If I don't come back, please make sure he's not saving me corpse for a snack."[/color]

Grabbing his bow and gesturing for Maulakanth to lead the way, Cedric followed him out of the inn, where they stood some way from the entrance, but well in sight of any passerby. Cedric eyed Maulakanth suspiciously. [color=gold]"Before you say anything, just be aware if yer fingers touch steel, I'll stick you with an arrow in a place you won't be getting up from. This ain't a threat, it's simply me covering me own arse in case you have more than words on the mind. Other than that, if this is about the shite that went down at the inn, I was right pissed and wanted to distance myself from a man who slaughtered guards. Ain't personal, I just want to get the gobshite lordling home safe and sound without having half of fookin' High Rock crawlin' up me arse."[/color] Cedric said, watching Maulakanth carefully. He wasn't about to tiptoe with the orc, the words had to be said, but Maulakanth already proven himself to be a bit wild and unpredictable. [color=gold]"Contrary to what you might think, I'd rather you, me, and all the fookin' gang get to part ways in one piece, and bluntly, I ain't got one sodding clue of how trustworthy you are around [I]people[/I], lad. First town we stumble across, a bar fight turns into bloodshed. You were right to defend yerself, but I hope you realize I tried to save yer ass when I threw that tankard at the fookin' guard. He was going to aerate yer brain, unfortunately, I couldn't save the rest of you. Now, unless I misread your intention, I hope that clears the air somewhat, because I'd rather not have to sleep up in a tree with one eye open in case you want to gut me."[/color]  

Maulakanth listened silently as Cedric spoke and, while his nostrils flared and he clenched his fists, he kept his cool. He still didn't care for the Breton's authoritative tone and various perceived insults to his person. But... were Cedric's words false? Maulakanth, proud as he was, couldn't find it within himself to say yes to that question. He [i]had[/i] been egregious when he drew his swords and started cutting down angry townsfolk and guards. [color=39b54a]"You are right, much as I hate to say it. It will not happen again. From now on, I will keep my blades sheathed until someone else draws blood first. That said,"[/color] Maulakanth spat grudgingly and jabbed an accusing finger at Cedric, [color=39b54a]"if you throw me to the dogs again, boy, I will make it my life's sole endeavor to find you and put you in the ground. Am I clear?"[/color]

The Elkman blinked slowly. Maulakanth admitting that Cedric was right and that he made a mistake? Now this was something of a surprise and high on the list of events Cedric had considered highly improbable, somewhere under being crowned king and above discovering an undiscovered vault of treasure from the first elves. The finger jab and singular threat, however, were much more in line with what he expected. [color=gold]"Well, seems to me if you aren't going to butcher guardsmen, then the opportunity for me to throw you to the dogs has diminished considerably. I'm pullin' yer ear, I promise I'll stick by you moving forward, even if everything turns into utter daedra piss before our very eyes. Seems to me we're supposed to be working together to overcome our mutual problem, and we've been rather disappointing on that front, the each of us. So,"[/color] Cedric said, placing the arrow back in its quiver to show lack of harmful intent, [color=gold]"You were the bigger man, in both meanings of the term, and came to me to square the shite away without ripping me head off, and for that, I thank you and feel like a manky shiteheel for not putting more faith in you. Shall we put this unfortunate chapter behind us?"[/color] he asked, offering a hand.

The orc stared at the offered hand. Maulakanth's jaw worked and his fingers balled themselves into fists, relaxed, and balled again. He couldn't remember the last time he had shaken someone's hand, and part of him still deeply resented Cedric for what he had done. A full ten seconds went by before Maulakanth finally reached out to the Breton and grabbed his hand in a firm grip, shook it decisively, and let it go quickly. Cedric's apologetic tone was what finally convinced him to bury the hatchet. [color=39b54a]"Very well, Elkman. All is forgiven. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have... something I need to do,"[/color] Maulakanth said, grumbling, and walked away with a certain urgency in his step, down the high street. He knew there was an alchemist's shop nearby whose workstation he could use. Gaela could have helped him, of course, but Maulakanth hoped his allies would forget his addiction and he was loath to bring it up again. It was a weakness. Maulakanth did not like his weaknesses.