Twisted Fate (Orc Destiny Volume I) (The Blood and Brotherhood Saga) Read online

  Twisted Fate

  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.

  Books by Jeremy Laszlo

  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)

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  About the Author

  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.

  CHAPTER ONE

  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 t
o 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.

  Without fear he altered course and began climbing once again through the darkness, away from the trail and into the ever thickening forest upon the mountain slopes. Here were mostly pines and ferns, interlaced with various vines and a smattering of mushrooms. The beast’s trail blazing through the undergrowth was easy enough to follow, and as such Gnak felt he was making good time.

  Sniffing the air as he climbed, it was only an hour later when he picked up the distinct scent of the beast. Even by its smell it was monstrous, its odor reeking of decaying flesh, urine, and feces. Looking up through the canopy he located the stars he needed to mark his location, before his attention was broken from his calculations of his distance from camp. His head snapping down as he heard a branch crack with a snick, he slowed to a stop to listen as the sound was followed then by a rustling. Ahead, not far, was movement. It was slow and deliberate. Another branch snapped. Gnak sprang into action.

  Ducking off the trail of prints and stench he followed, he quietly crept through the undergrowth, carefully selecting every footfall. Creeping, he sought to flank the creature and land a killing blow with one quick strike between the ribs. Following the ever moving sound he climbed slowly up and around his target, following it into a dense copse of firs. Ducking from shadow to shadow beneath the moons he crept on, growing nearer and nearer to the sounds ahead. It was not until he broke free of the dense trees into the clearing beyond that he realized his mistake.

  CHAPTER TWO

  His movements had been anticipated. His foe awaited him. And now there was nothing to do but act and react. Springing into action, Gnak ducked the thrown spear and sprang forward into a roll. As he came to his feet, another spear lanced out of the shadows, slashing through his bicep, the impact turning him and shoving his balance off center. Still he did not retaliate. Instead he bent his knees, lowering his center of gravity, and turned to watch them close the distance, assuring himself there were not more lurking in the shadows. Cowards.

  Flexing his muscles taut, it was finally time to fight. Swinging his spear overhead in a great arc as if it were a sword or club, he relaxed his grip and let the handle slide through his grasp until he held the butt end. Then tightening his grip, he swung yet another arc, lashing out with his arm at the last moment as if brandishing a whip. With perfect accuracy he slashed the forehead and scalp of the nearest foe, sending the charging Orc down upon his back, blood pouring down its face. Without hesitation, Gnak sprang upon his clansman and as he landed he drove the spear down through his opponent’s throat, watching the blood spurt and pool around the wound as it widened. Pinning the thrashing and gu
rgling attacker to the ground, he sprang away from the flailing limbs, leaving his spear behind. There remained yet another attacker and Gnak was prepared for him. But by all apparent sounds the secondary threat had decided to flee rather than fight. Gnak could not allow a coward to live among his clan, and as such he gave chase to the sounds of his enemy’s retreat.

  It was only a mile further up the mountain when he knew he neared the other who had sought to remove him from the Catunga ceremony. He could smell the scent of her sweat, though found himself surprised that his second attacker had been a female. All Orcs were soldiers, and all Orcs were trained to fight from birth, but females rarely openly fought males, as males were bigger and stronger. Instead, females gained station by those she bred. Gnak assumed that this particular female had bred, or intended to breed the Orc he had just killed. The thought made him grin, as he broke through a line of trees to realize that the sounds ahead had stopped abruptly. So too did he stop.

  A great roar sounded from just paces ahead, as a humongous beast reared back on its hind legs, caught by surprise. So close was his female attacker to the ancient bear that froth from the corners of the beast’s mouth rained down on her as the roar continued. She stood frozen for an instant, and Gnak knew that it was all the time she had before the beast even attacked. But when it did, he had not expected what he saw.