Vengeance

Grim sat calmly in the Undercity Inn, trying to ignore the sounds of panic and chaos throughout the city. It had been an odd few days and he couldn't bring himself to empathise with the suffering of the Forsaken inhabitants. Could they even suffer? He did not know, and if he was honest with himself, he didn't much care. He had only met two Forsaken who didn't immediately cause a feeling of disgust and disquiet in him, and he still did not trust either of them. One had done nothing but help him throughout the time they had known each other, but Grim felt deep in his bones that this help was expected to be repayed somehow, and he was sure he wouldn't like how. The other Forsaken, quite simply, he felt sorry for. Despite her constant treacherousnes and bouts of mania she had shown rare moments of actual kindness to him. But still, the treacherousnes and mania meant he could not ever truly trust her.

He had come to the Undercity with his brother, to prepare for a quest. That his brother was willing to help him intrigued and worried him. He didn't actually like his brother, but he wanted to know him better and this quest seemed likely to kill two birds with a single stone.
They had come to the Undercity to prepare, but they had time for precious little preparation before anarchy had broken loose in the normally quiet city. Bombs had exploded, Forsaken had been killed. Worse than this, several of the Kor'Kron overseers had been killed. Grim had volunteered himself to help heal the Kor'Kron injured in the blasts but had studiously ignored the wounded Forsaken. He was unwilling to ask for the aid of the spirits to help these wretches.
His brother had stomped off to aid the surviving Kor'Kron restore order and left him. He had done all he could for the injured orcs and now was left in peace. He hadn't seen his brother for a couple of days now and was getting restless.
And so, he sat there, in the Inn, attempting to meditate amidst the chaos and anarchy.

A particularly piercing shriek rang out from the depths of the city, stirring Grim from his meditation. Sighing, he opened his eyes. In front of him was a small bat. He recognised it immediately - it was the creature that followed Igra around. He stared at it with irritation, he knew it wasn't a bat, he knew it was something more mysterious than that. The spirits had given him enough insight to realise that the bat was not all it seemed, but not enough insight to discover exactly what it was.
"What do you want bat-creature?" He asked.
The bat shrieked and flew at his face. Gritting his teeth Grim glared at it, it was being as annoying as it usually was. How Igra put up with it he didn't know.
The bat opened it's tiny mouth and a strange sound emanated forth, almost, but not quite sounding like words.
"MY TIME ON THIS WORLD IS SHORT ORC." The words appeared in Grim's mind, making him blink in surprise. The words had not been spoken and he had not thought them himself, they had just appeared in his mind.
"MEET ME IN THE RUINS ABOVE." There, more words, again imprinting themself on his brain.

Sighing, Grim stood up. "Fine." He grumbled.

Gathering his shield and new sword, he limped towards the nearest elevator.

Several minutes later he was above ground, shield slung on his back and hand on his sword-hilt, just in case. A figure approached him, ethereal and transluscent. He recognised it as the Soothsayer, the old and tricksy troll he had encountered several times, each time receiving a riddle of some sort from it.

"So, the bat is you is it Soothsayer?"

The troll-ghost whispered in reply, "Aye, my child. But that is not important now. I am dead and my time is short."

Grim grinned nastily, "Dead huh? Shame. What do you want then troll?"

"A great evil awakens, it is known as the Master and it plots and plans great harm. You must travel to the Thandol Span and stop him."

"Must I? And how do I do this?"

The troll-ghost sighed and held out it's hand, a small trollish totem sitting in it's palm. "Take this, it will summon me one last time if you should need me. Make him bleed and burn his blood."

Grim reached over and plucked the totem, pocketing it. Should he travel to the Thandol Span and trust this ghost? Should he refuse and stay, waiting for his brother?
Why did these things always happen to him? Frowning, he looked the troll-ghost dead in the eyes. "And why should I?"

The Soothsayer looked him straight back, "There are spirits in torment, will you let that happen?"

Grim's frown deepened, sensing he had been outmanouevered. "Would I be a shaman if I did?"

"No child, you wou...." The troll-ghost's sentance was cut off by a roar of thunder, a dark rift opening behind it. The troll-ghost looked at Grim in panic, "It hunts me and it has found me!"
Tentacles burst forth from the rift, wrapping themselves around the Soothsayer and dragging him backwards, the rift closing around him.

Grim blinked, he hadn't even had time to be surprised.

"Tentacles, why does it always have to be tentacles?" Grim muttered, before turning and walking away.

The wind blasted past Grim's ears as he clung onto Snappy, his drake, for dear life. He hated flying.
The drake knew where it was taking him, he didn't have to guide it. Sooner rather than later it landed awkwardly inside Hammerfall. Grim let go and half fell from his saddle, waddling drunkenly. He really hated flying.
He stumbled back towards Snappy, pulling a key from his pocket. With the key he unlocked a cage attached to the drake's back. With a berserk shriek his war-bird Beaky burst from the cage, pecking madly at him.
"Easy boy! Easy! We're here now!"

Once Beaky had calmed down from his traumatic flight Grim saddled him and climbed on top, aiming the bird towards Hammerfall's front gate.
He spurred Beaky on and the bird strutted off, with Grim clutching on for dear life again. He hated flying, he also didn't like riding mounts on the ground much better.

Half an hour later the Thandol Span loomed ahead, Grim slowed Beaky down and the bird trotted onto the bridge.
Grim dismounted, slapping Beaky on the rump to send him skittering away squawking madly. Grim limped towards the broken portion of the Span.

The first thing he noticed was the sky. It was dark, darker than usual. The second thing he noticed was the rain. It had not been raining anywhere else in Arathi on his way here, so the fact that it was raining here at the Span was unusual.
The third and final thing he noticed was a familiar figure hovering in mid air over the break in the bridge.

Grim groaned inwardly, bats, mad dead trolls, tentacles and now this.

"Cain!" He shouted. "What are you doing here?"

The floating figure drifted towards him, settling gently on the bridge. "Run along little one. This is no business of yours."

Grim stared at Cain. He had long ago sworn an oath of vengeance, to slay this foul Forsaken for it's many and varied crimes, for hurting those he cared about.
Clearing his throat Grim spoke, "I will not be running Cain. I suppose I am here to stop you."
Cain looked at him, and Grim noticed how far the Forsaken had deteriorated since he had last seen him. Thick green veins pulsed disgustlingly underneath its skin, dark, purple sparks spat from where it's eyes had once been.
Cain spoke, his voice cracking, "You? I see you, I know you. Disgusting alien pig-creature. This world was better before your foul kind came here."

"Yes, it probably was, but, my kind are here now, and here we will stay." Grim replied.

Thunder broke the sky, lightning spat down and the rain became heavier. From the darkness above shapes appeared, ghostly shapes wielding old and rusty weapons. Grim supposed these were the spirits in torment the Soothsayer had warned him of.

Grim drew his new sword and unslung his shield, holding it in a guard position in front of him. He crouched low, into a fighting stance. Cain saw this, recognisd Grim's intent and drew his own sword. "Let us see how you fight then orc." Cain spat.

It felt good to hold a sword again, it had been too long since his last blades had shattered. He had reforged them into a set of claws, but he had never gotten used to that fighting style. But, with a sword in his hand once again, he grinned, this was a fight he felt comfortable in.
Still, Grim mused, it was never good to underestimate an opponent. He had no idea if Cain could use the sword he held, but common sense dictated that not even Cain was mad enough to clash blade-to-blade with an orc if he didn't have some skill with it.

Grim lunged forwards, almost lazily, trying to gauge Cain's ability to fight. Cain parried easily, span around quicker than Grim expected and lunged right back in a savage stab. Cain's sword made contact, piercing Grim's chest armour and gauging a shallow wound.
"Damn." thought Grim, "Seems he can fight."

Grim stalked forwards slowly, shield held out and sword ready. He stabbed at Cain again, quicker this time. Cain parried and moved to make a counter-stroke, but Grim was ready for this and slammed his shield forwards, catching Cain in the face, sending foul viscous green blood splattering everywhere.
Cain stumbled backwards, his face a ruin. "You do not fight fair orc. Was that not dishonourable?" he growled through his broken mouth.
Grim didn't bother replying, concentrating on the fight instead.
Cain stood upright, sword outstretched and spoke again, "Two can play at that game orc.", and with that Cain threw a small capsule onto the ground in front of Grim. Thick, dark smoke burst forth, obscuring Grim's vision and causing him to cough.
Blinded temporarily, Grim span around, sword scything through the smoke in an attempt to keep Cain away from him.
Sharp pain erupted from Grim's leg as the smoke disippated, Cain had taken advantage of the confusion and lanced his swordblade deep into Grim's leg. Snarling, Grim stumbled from the smoke, testing his wounded leg. It would hold, for now.

The two combatants faced each other, the rain coming down harder than ever, causing Grim's spilled blood to dilute, running into rivulets to the ground below him.
Despite the pain, despite the rain and the blood Grim smiled, he stretched out his arms and looked to the sky, the rain splashing into his face. He looked back at Cain, still smiling. "See Cain? The elements bless me here, I fight with their approval."
With that Grim rushed forwards, calling out a request to the elements. The wind howled suddenly, and Grim was in front of Cain instantly, causing the Forsaken to look horrified at the speed at which Grim closed in on him. Grim slashed with his sword, forcing the Forsaken to the edge of the bridge.
He had Cain trapped now, and raised his sword to land the killing blow and end this fight when Cain darted forwards, catching Grim a glancing blow on the forehead and causing him to stumble backwards.
The rain quickly diluted Grim's blood, enabling him to see. Cain had not pressed his advantage further and instead was crouched pathetically, pressing against the Span's railing.
Cain looked up at him and spoke in a thin, pathetic voice. "Perhaps we can make a deal orc? There is no need for such violence!"
Growling, Grim limped forwards. "No deal Cain. No deals with you, just... vengeance."

The Forsaken cackled madly, lunging fowards again at speed, a small dagger outstretched. The dagger cracked into Grim's chainmail, the force of its blow turned aside, and instead of causing injury just scored a bright line across the dark iron chains.
Grim backhanded Cain away with his sword hand, sending the Forsaken to the floor. Cain raised his hands in a plea, "A deal orc! A deal!"
"No. Deals." came Grim's reply and he slashed downwards, severing Cain's sword hand.

The Forsaken shrieked, more foul green blood splurting everywhere. He crawled away, dropping more capsules to the floor before scuttling to the very edge of the broken Span.
The capsules released a noxious green gas, causing Grim to choke and his eyes to water.
Grim held his breath and strode through the gas cloud, emerging to see Cain again, standing on the edge of the Span.
"I am not as disarmed as you may think orc!" the Forsaken shrieked, putting a vial to his lips and drinking deeply from it.
With that, Cain changed. The wounded and bleeding Forsaken bulged, muscles cracking, skin splitting and... growing. In front of Grim now stood a male naga, or the approximation of one anyway. The transformation was not perfect, blood gushed from the figure's mouth, a rattling sound came from within it. Whatever Cain had ingested had not worked perfectly.
The naga-Cain sprung forwards on it's muscular tail, arms slamming towards Grim. He ducked, hit his shield-rim into the ground and sheltered behind it, the naga-Cain's blows cracking into the shield, forcing Grim backwards but causing no injury.
Grim stabbed his sword out around the side of his shield, catching the naga-Cain in the tail, drawing more blood.
The naga-Cain screeched and changed again... More bones cracked, more skin split and bled and a large insect creature now stood in front of Grim. It slashed it's sharp, chitinous arms at Grim again, making contact with the shield and knocking Grim backwards.
Grim fell, aiming his fall away from the insect-Cain, he rolled and stood up again, sword raised. He had left his shield behind. "So be it." thought Grim.
Roaring now, he surged forwards slashing upwards to catch the insect-Cain in the mouth. His blade sliced into it's mandibles and it scuttled backwards, the sword stuck.
The insect-Cain changed, more agonising sounds came from it as it transformed, and in front of Grim stood Cain again, bleeding heavier and swaying on his feet.
Cain giggled, a strange sound after the roars and screams of the past few minutes, "We are both disarmed now orc." he said, pointing at Grim's sword and shield discarded on the floor.
"A shaman is never disarmed Cain." was Grim's reply. He grinned hugely again, pointing at Cain's bleeding form, "Burn Cain, burn" he spoke. The elements heard him, and flames erupted around Cain's feet, his foul green blood catching light instantly.
The burning figure roared and flailed, stumbling further towards the edge of the Span.
Grim limped forwards and kicked the burning creature from the bridge, watching in satisfaction as it plummeted to the rocks and water below.

He picked up his sword and shield, slinging the shield over his back but holding the sword still, almost tenderly, admiring it.
"You did not have a name before." Grim said to the sword, not feeling in the least bit foolish for doing so, "But now you do, now you are named Vengeance."

Sheathing his sword, Grim looked upwards again, at the spirits circling overhead in the rain.
One detached itself from the others, and floated to the Span. Grim recognised this ghost, it was Pynke, the arrogant little goblin who had called himself a General.
The ghostly goblin bowed extravagently at Grim.
"I tank you, for your effortz in zavink us. Now, ve avait your command zir orc."

"My command?"

"You now muzt tell uz what to do, vhere to go. Many of uz vish for you to releaze them to their afterlife."

"Then go, all who wish to return to their honoured rest, do so."

"But zir orc, not all do, I for vone vish to ztay, az do my zeven friendz here." The goblin gestured around himself.

"What seven friends? You are the only one here."

"Oh no zir orc, I have zeven friends here. They are called Jaelen, Jaelen, Jaelen, Jaelen, Jaelen, Jaelen und Jaelen."

Grim sighed, he had little patience for gibbering goblin ghosts. "Fine. But I do not understand why you would sacrifice your honoured death for a return to life in dishonour."

"You vould not understand zir orc. But my death vas not an honourable vone, I vas alone und zenzeless, avay from my ancestors. Life is better zan zat."

"Right... Well, you can stay I suppose, but I would take an oath fro..." Grim's wounded leg buckled and he fell to his knees. "Dammit..."

"Let me help you zir orc." the goblin floated towards Grim, hands outstretched. "Do you have any bandages zir orc?"

Grim fumbled through his belt pouch, pulling out a roll of thick bandages, wordlessly passing them to the goblin.

"Zank you." the goblin's ethereal hands clutched the bandages with no trouble, wrapping them tightly around Grim's injured leg. "Zat vill do for now, but you should zee a healer proper."

"Thank you goblin." Grim said, pulling himself slowly back to his feet.
"If you wish to return to the world then I will take an oath from you all. An oath to commit now evil and to do no wrongs. Break this oath and I will find you and send you screaming back to the afterlife. Understand?"

"Ah yez zir orc, ve all agree and ve have all svorn to zis oath. But you now muzt cloze ze rift for ze other zpirits, or zey vill not be able to return."

"How do I do that then?"

The goblin shrugged, "Perhapz just ask it nicely?"

Grim stared at the goblin in annoyance before turning the the other spirits, still circling overhead. "Go back! Piss off!" he shouted.
The ghosts faded from view, leaving just the goblin behind, looking less ethereal now.

"Zere iz much in zis vorld I vould like to zee zir orc, and now I vill leave you zo I can zee it!"

The goblin saluted and began to march off the Span, towards Arathi, an air of self-importance almost emanating from it.

"A healer. I must find a healer." Grim thought, limping after the departing goblin. "But before I find a healer... I have to find Beaky."