Twisted Fate (Orc Destiny Volume I) (The Blood and Brotherhood Saga)
Read Twisted Fate (Orc Destiny Volume I) (The Blood and Brotherhood Saga) Online
Authors: Jeremy Laszlo
Orc Destiny Volume I
A Blood and Brotherhood Novel
By Jeremy Laszlo
© 2013 by Jeremy Laszlo.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced,
stored in a retrieval system in any form or by any means without the prior
written permission of the publisher.
All characters in this book are fictitious, and any
resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Clad in Shadow
(Poetry for a Burdened Soul)
The Blood and Brotherhood Saga
The Choosing
(Book One of the Blood and Brotherhood Saga)
The Chosen
(Book Two of the Blood and Brotherhood Saga)
The Changing
(Book Three of the Blood and Brotherhood Saga)
Crimson (Book 3.5
of the Blood and Brotherhood Saga)
The Contention (Book
Four of the Blood and Brotherhood Saga)
The Champions (Book
Five of the Blood and Brotherhood Saga)
The Crowned (Book
Six of the Blood and Brotherhood Saga)
Orc Destiny Trilogy
Twisted
Fate (Orc Destiny, Volume I)
Fallen
Crown (Orc Destiny, Volume II)
The Beyond Series
Beyond The Mask
(The Beyond Book One)
Beyond The Flesh
(The Beyond Book Two)
Beyond The Soul (The Beyond Book Three)
PROLOGUE
Many gods there were who gathered to create the world. Each
of them lent an equal gift of their own power, of their own life force, to
create all things living upon Thurr. This method of creation allowed them all
to remain equally powerful, working together to create perfection. Through eons
they watched their world grow and prosper.
Civilizations arose and their creations learned and thrived
upon the land that had been made for them. With expanding civilizations came
the discovery of neighbors. With that discovery came borders. With borders came
disputes and ultimately wars erupted from time to time upon the world that the
gods had made. Among all of their creations upon Thurr, the many races of man
held the gods enthralled. The creatures were but a speck in the shadow of the
gods who had breathed life into them, yet the many races of man never failed to
surprise their makers. So it was that men were to teach the gods who made them
many lessons.
All gods were equal, and being so, many concepts had never
occurred to them. The races of man, however, were not all equal. Some of the
races had higher intellect, others had more brawn and larger physical prowess,
but these differences occurred between different races and thus the gods
expected different cultures to arise to fit the needs of the peoples. What they
had not suspected came not in a physical form, but from within individuals of
individual races.
As time progressed, the gods stood in the heavens watching
the races of man, awed by the spectrum of concepts they had never before
postulated. Honor, trust, courage, fear, hope, loss, excitement, vanity, greed,
lust and ambition were just a few of the lessons gleaned by the gods from their
own creations. Above all, however, jealousy was learned by the gods.
Though none of the gods would outwardly show it, each had
become jealous of the races of man. Wanting to experience what man experienced
for themselves, the gods took council with their brethren. It was unanimously
decided that each of them would take the form of a mortal, walk among man and
learn firsthand all that they could from their mortal kin. They decided to
reconvene later to share all that they had discovered. Each of them was given
one lifetime among the many species of men. Thus they set their ethereal bodies
aside, wrapping themselves in the flesh of whatever race most inspired them. Leaving
the plane of immortals vacant, the gods came to roam Thurr, living among
mankind.
Eventually all the gods returned to their realm. Although
only moments in the time of gods had passed, it soon became evident that
something had gone amiss. A struggle for power had begun in the heavens. Fueled
by their newly learned jealousy and greed, the immortals began striking out at
one another with the only instruments they held against their own kind. They
used man.
Learning that with more followers ultimately came more
power, the gods began creating champions of mortals to spread their own
worship. In every major battle for thousands of years, it was those champions
that led the charge, but as always things were changing.
For all recorded history, battles have now waged upon Thurr
to one degree or another, but at long last the heavenly battle brought to
mortal soil approaches an apex. Those chosen among the races of mankind to be
blessed by the gods are becoming more and more powerful as the gods who control
them become more desperate.
With so much on the line for the many races of man, only a
few realize what it is that hangs in the balance. Even those races considered
primitive have begun to rise up with champions of their own, as the world faces
a war unlike anything ever seen before.
But with change comes questions. And with questions comes
knowledge. With knowledge comes truth, and with truth comes action.
It was dry and miserable as the sun sunk slowly to the horizon
over the dunes and sparse grasslands that extended away from camp. Flies
swarmed and bit Gnak’s bare back and shoulders, causing small bumps to rise
upon his blue-black flesh. Shrugging repeatedly, and whipping his head from
side to side, he attempted to fend them off while shoveling the last of his
meal into his waiting mouth with a spoon carved of human bone. In less than an
hour, when the light faded, the flies would abate and allow him to better
concentrate on what awaited. The anticipation was killing him.
Though just days away, a ceremony that would change his life
forever would begin, he had no time now for thinking of such distant events. For
Gnak life was about here and now. It was about survival. It was about cunning,
and hunting, and killing. As an Orc approaching Catunga, the ceremony that marked
him as an adult and established his rank among his people, Gnak knew his every
action was being watched. Those who performed Catunga with him sought his
weaknesses, and tonight’s hunt would be no different.
Rising from his position upon the ground he straightened the
necklace around his neck, reminding those who watched him of the many boars and
bears he had brought down. Grinning a wicked grin, he flashed his large, tusk-like
teeth as his silver eyes flashed in the failing light. Bending to retrieve his
crude sword, he shoved it in his belt before flexing his muscles in a feigned
stretch. Sure his watchers were thoroughly reminded, Gnak strode to his tent
with his shoulders back and head held high. Being proud, with a strong family
name, he knew few among his clan were his rival. Even his home spoke of his
strength.
With a base of stacked stones and poles thrust down into the
sand, his tent was one of the more impressive in the camp. It was covered
entirely in the hides and skins of those greatest among the beasts he
slaughtered. He remembered every kill down to the breaths he took. Such
victories were to be savored.
There were those who had tents that were grander, though. His
own father had one such tent. A few other elders in the camp had great
sprawling domiciles as well, but the only one Gnak refused to admire was just
paces away. It belonged to Korx, his rival from the time they could crawl. Shaking
the thoughts from his head, Gnak tried not to recall the broken bones, swollen
eyes, and bloodied faces they had exchanged over the years. There was no time
for distraction. There was only hunting and Catunga.
Snatching the spear from beside the flap of his tent Gnak
peered across his small camp to see who else prepared to collect game for the
feast. Just as he suspected, all who would enter the ceremony with him had come
out to provide for their clan. Like him, most of his clan mates carried spears
with a short sword in reserve. But not Korx. He instead preferred two short
swords. It showed he was not afraid to get close to the beasts he killed, and
most would agree that it was a proud act, and one deserving of respect. Most. Not
all.
Turning to watch the last sliver of the sun slip into the
beyond, Gnak turned and looked off to the foothills of the mountains to the
north. Tonight he would seek out an enormous beast. Tonight he would kill that
which would bring respect to him and his father. Tonight he would show them
that he had what it took to be a captain.
Grinning again, Gnak jogged out beyond the edge of the camp.
Setting his sights on a point in the distance, he leveled his breathing and
leaned forward as he gained speed. Digging his toes into the sand with every
stride he rushed towards his destination, the sharp, dry blades of desert grass
slicing at his scarred legs to little effect. He had been the first to leave
the camp this night, but he knew nearly four dozen would be hunting the same
grounds as he in the hours to come. Redoubling his speed, he moved as fast as
his massive legs would carry him. He needed to find the most magnificent beast.
His elders and his clan would expect no less. He would not disappoint them.
Little more than an hour into the night and more than a dozen
miles later, Gnak broke free from the sand to set his feet upon more solid
ground. Here the sandy grass turned to hills of brush and rock. Only a handful
of miles ahead, the base of the mountains began. Raising his chin into the cool
breeze that flowed down from the mountain he sniffed hungrily, the air rushing
into and out of the two slits for nostrils that adorned his face. With no sign
or scent catching his attention, he turned briefly to witness as dozens of
forms raced through the darkness behind him. It was one thing, looking out for
the beasts he was hunting. But it was entirely another knowing that the others
of his own clan were just as likely to be hunting him. After all, there was no
shame in eliminating your competition. It was more or less the primary means
for promotion in the Orcish hierarchy.
Gnak silently dared them to come, he was raised to have no
fear or compassion, and would show them neither. How much more glorious would
the return from the hunt be if he brought with him not only a magnificent
beast, but also the tusks of those who wished to gain position by his death? Turning
again, he began to run once more into the night with a wolfish grin upon his
purple lips.
Another half an hour, and he rushed past the first trees
that marked the edge of the base of the mountains. From here on he knew it
would be slower going, forced to climb uphill against both gravity and the
breeze. But even so, he would not back down from the challenge. In fact, he
intended to climb higher than he would normally hunt, for there were stories
that said only the strongest of his prey could survive higher up.
Catunga began in three nights. So no matter what prey he
found, he would need to return to camp with it in time to skin it, and have it
prepared for the feast. Most large game needed a full day and night to roast
upon a spit, cutting a full third off of the time he had. No, he needed to bag
his trophy tonight and return to camp, even if it meant staying up the entire
day that followed.
His deadline set, Gnak turned towards the largest trail that
climbed the mountain. If he planned to climb higher than the rest he needed an
easy approach to remain ahead of them. Besides, it was more than likely that
only a few would dare venture as high as he. If any at all.
Reaching the trail he once again increased his pace, finding
the well beaten path much easier to traverse. It was only an hour into his
climb that he heard the roar from below. He recognized the sound instantly, and
knew it to be one of the great brown bears that inhabited the mountain’s wooded
slopes. By the pitch he guessed it to be a smaller bear, perhaps a yearling or
slightly older. Any bear was a prize to be had, but he was glad his brethren
were so easily satisfied. With so little ambition, those such as the bear’s
slayer were not likely to pose a threat in the days to come.
Climbing higher and higher it was near the middle of the
night, with the twin moons of Thurr, one blue and one red, directly above, that
he saw the first immense track. Reaching down he placed both of his hands
inside the impression in the soil, his fingers spread to their full extent. He
did not even touch the edges of the track with both hands within it. At nearly nine
feet tall, with broad shoulders and massive arms, Gnak was not small for an Orc
by any means. His hands were large, even for an Orc and yet the track in the
damp soil before him proved from a beast that would dwarf him by half.
Looking up the mountain side it was evident where the beast
had passed, its tracks obvious in the damp soil. Gnak could not be certain if
it was good or bad that he would be able to track the creature so easily. If
he
could track it, so could the others, and he would not want to find himself
pinned between the beast and those who wished him harm. There was little choice
in the matter, however, as this was precisely the type of creature he had
sought. He knew, without even making a conscious decision, that he would track
the creature back to its den if he needed to.