Tuldilla kept his head down low as his father Moredliv was delivered before him by carriage. The whole tribe got to their knees as the carriage passed through the village. One of Moredliv's generals pulled Tuldilla aside, taking him into Moredliv's tent. Using his axe, he shattered the lock closing Moredliv's great chest. As he opened it, to Tuldilla's surprise, there were no riches...No weapons, or plunder, or paintings. Only scrolls, carefully organized into many parts. The General turned to Tuldilla. "Within these pages lie the history of Moredliv. Before we rode into battle, he told me that these scrolls we're to only remain in his family lineage." Tuldilla nodded. He knew he was not born of the Orcs, but of a race of humans from distant plains. Most likley, Moredliv or possibly Nergui would recieve them. "Which is why he will be giving the scrolls...To you." Tuldilla looked up with a look of shock. He didn't know much of his father's history: Nobody did, really, but he knew that his past was extremely secretive and quiet. "Me?", Tuldilla gasped.
Moredliv's General nodded, "The throne is split between you and Nergui, but he seemed to have far more trust with the tribe for you...He said that if anyone could lead the Orcs to greatness, it was you." Moredliv's General bowed, Tuldilla returning the bow, as he exited the tent, to a horrific sight. It appeared that Nergui and his followers were stealing Moredliv's possessions. His cattle, weapons, treasures. Magdolna wrestled with one of them in order to try and get them to stop. "You can't do this! Where is the honor, the responsibility!" The young Orcish woman actually was getting the upper hand, tackling the soldier and pulling out her dagger. However, from behind Nergui grabbed her hair. "Moredliv is dead...As is his legacy." Nergui threw Magdolna into the dirt. Tuldilla's face filled with rage as he pulled out his axe. "NERGUI!"
Nergui turned around smiling. "Seems you're not a fool after all...You know that one tribe cannot be ruled by two monarchs." Tuldilla spat into the dirt, pulling out his axe. Nergui unsheathed his, getting his shield ready. Tuldilla called for Attiath to get his shield. Attiath whispered into his ear, "Be careful brother...The fate of the tribe is in your hands." Tuldilla nodded before swallowing. The tribe gathered around to witness the two battling warriors, clad in their lammelar armor and steel helmets. They circled one another, grunting and panting. The air was thick with tension. Finally, the two raced towards each other. Nergui slammed his shield into Tuldilla's chin, knocking him to the ground. Tuldilla struggled to get up, as Nergui laughed. Tuldilla, with a roar of rage, swiped the shield at Nergui's legs. Nergui swiftly dodged the attack, kicking Tuldilla and slamming his axe heavily on Tuldilla's shield. He fell back under the force of the blow. Nergui laughed, throwing his shield like the braggart he was. As Tuldilla swung with the axe, Nergui grabbed his hand, he twisted it back , the snapping of tendons was heard in unison with Tuldilla's screams of pain. he then threw him to the ground, Tuldilla's mouth filled with blood. He raised his axe, preparing to strike, when suddenly a thwip noise was heard. Nergui screamed out in pain, as an arrow hit his leg. Negui looked back to see it was Attiath who had fired it.
"Bastard! You're fate will be the same as his!" Nergui began to slowly, limpingly walk towards Attiath, but slowly, half the village came to Attiath and Tuldilla's aide. The other half stood beside Nergui. "So I see," laughed Nergui. "This is the fate of our tribes, the fate of Tuldilla's favorite son. To divide the tribe, to destroy it's great unification. Good luck with your empire, only the strong aspire to such feats. The weak die off into the dusts of the plains. I promise you, nobody will remember your name when your bones have turned to dust. You will be remembered as the enemy, the destruction...Of the Orcs."
Tuldilla's face filled with rage, he took a step forward. Nergui stopped him. "You will have your revenge someday...But you are not strong enough...Your legions not large enough. He is wrong...There will come a day when nations bow before you, before the Orcs. Your name will be remembered brother...Your legacy will outlive the fate of the land in which we stand...But don't cut it short in a fit of rage." Tuldilla nodded, motioning the tribe to follow him. His general brought his horse to him, but Tuldilla shook his head. "I will be taking the carriage..." Tuldilla grabbed the scrolls as he walked towards the horse drawn carriage. It was about time he learned how much he was his father's son. As he sat inside the darkness and concealment of the carriage, he opened the scroll, and began to read...
To be continued...
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