Rhatheth, Daggerfall,

Three Minutes Earlier.

A few orcs from Ragelock's tribe patrolled the village's perimeter alongside Rhatheth's orcs while engaging in animated chatter. The groups argued over whether the outcome of the negotiations would be war or not, and how large the potential conflict could get. The orcs' boisterous arguments were unceremoniously cut short, however, by a massive explosion that echoed out from the village's center.

Rhatheth's orcs paled as they collectively turned to see a massive column of smoke rise from the village center. Frantic shouts exploded throughout the village as the orcs made to rush to the village center.

Schlick! Schlick!

However, it was this exact moment that dozens of orcs cried out in pain and disbelief as they were either ran through or decapitated by their Ragelock brothers. One such orc spun around and glared at the Ragelock tribesman who had backstabbed him.

"Why!? What are you doing!?" The injured orc questioned with reluctant rage burning in his eyes. Although they had suspected this meeting might be a trap, they never thought it would be their fellow orcs who would betray them.

The Ragelock tribesman did not say a word in reply. He brandished his ax above his head and struck at the injured orc. The injured orc cried out and hastily crossed his arms over his head.

Thud!

The ax heavily impacted against the orc's arms. The injured orc's right arm was cut clean off while the blade buried itself halfway through the left. The orc, already accepting its demise, glared at the traitor with red eyes. "You'll pay for this!"

BAM!

The injured orc suddenly kicked out, and successfully drove his foot into the traitor's stomach. The traitor blanched and doubled over as the air was knocked out of his lungs. The injured orc, rather than use the opportunity to escape, fished out a skullbone horn from his belt. He weakly placed the horn against his lips and heavily blew on it.

Vrwoooo!

The horn blared across the village, powerful, mournful and powered by an unrelenting rage. As if answering the call of this one horn, several horns wailed over the village, sending a message only the Rhatheth orcs understood.

The orc who started the call let out a weak, triumphant grin as he watched the traitor rush at him with reddened, rage-filled eyes. He laughed as the traitor's ax descended on his head. "See You Soon!"

Crack!

"Schcuck!" The traitor cursed as he pulled out his ax from the crushed skull. He glared at the village, wondering what the message was. He could not shake off the feeling that something was wrong. The Rhatheth orc's first instinct when ambushed was not to fight back in anger but buy enough time to blow that bugle. If he did not know better, he would have thought the orc was expecting the ambush and was given clear instructions on what to do.

Unfortunately for him, it turned out the traitor's instincts were on point.

Within the village, the Rhatheth orcs were initially running toward the village center to check for the cause of the explosion. However, they all stopped immediately the horns sounded. The Rhatheth orcs cast unwilling, guilt-filled gazes toward the village center, but then formed small groups of three to five and charged out of the village. These groups slaughtered their way out of the village, not even hesitating when faced with the Ragelock clan members.

Unfortunately for the Ragelock clan, most of their clan members were hidden in an elephant grass field a few hundred meters from the village. This had been the 'agreement' with Rhatheth, as 'insurance' against a possible dwarven ambush. Of course, recent events proved this to be false. These Ragelock 'insurance' was the true ambush force.

In the original plan, the Ragelock members in the village would gain the ire of the Rhatheth clan members through their betrayal. The prideful and angry nature of orcs would force the Rhateth clan to seek out and battle the Ragelock clan to the death as well as seek to protect their chief. This would buy enough time for the Ragelock clan hidden in the bushes to surround the village and wipe them out.

But what was this!? The Rhateth were not following the script! In perhaps the most cowardly event in all of orcish history, the Rhatheh clan members abandoned both their leader and their revenge, to flee the town. By the time the Ragelock clan reached the village, the Rhatheth clan members had not only broken out of the village, but further scattered into the wind and ran in every which direction.

What was worse, all the boars had been slaughtered by the Rhateth before they ran, forcing any would-be search party to conduct the search on foot. The Ragelock clan was enraged by these despicable methods and frantically chased down the escaping orcs.

The Rhatheth orcs were not the only ones to experience the distaste of betrayal. Among the dwarven guards, those from Nuxvar suddenly stabbed Rudega's personal guards amongst the commotion. The attacks were so quick and ruthless that the massacre was over in less than a few dozen seconds. The Nuxvar dwarfs, after committing this murder, packed up their things and marched to the city center.

Strangely, the Ragelock clan members pretended not to see the bloodstained dwarfs, almost like they had come to some form of prior agreement. The Ragelock clan members who did not join the chase followed the dwarfs to the city center. They gathered at the intersections leading to the center, with the dwarfs in front of the orcs and closely monitored the smoke, patiently awaiting the results.

Their timing proved to be perfect as the dust from the explosion cleared to reveal the current situation. Surprisingly, it was not as the orcs had expected. The bombs thrown by Mokern and Ungund had indeed caused massive damage, a fact attested by Durst's missing arm and Rudega's missing ear and the large cavity in both warrior's stomach.

Strangely, however, both men were somehow still alive, holding on to life through sheer stubborn will. The most shocking sight, however, was not that these two warriors were still among the world of the living, but that they were both held in Ragnaf's arms. Ragnaf had Durst slung over his left shoulder, and carried Rudega like a sack under his right arm.

Mokern and Undung were safely tucked away in their little mana shield, while the orc shaman, Guvern lay in a pool of green blood on the ground. The poor shaman had been Renark's first target. It was the bloodlust leaked when Renark cut down the shaman that triggered Durst and bought enough time to dodge the first blow.

Surely, if it were not for that momentary leak, Durst would have been the one laying on the ground. This was a testament to how well Renark had hidden his bloodlust this entire time.

The man of the hour, Renark Ragelock glared at the orc opposing his final charge with disgust and rage. "Get out of my way!"

"Make Me Traitorous Cur!" Grovitch cursed as he brandished his ax and glared at Renark while positioning himself between Renark and Ragnaf. Grovitch looked over his shoulder and roared at Ragnaf. "What are you waiting for!? Run!"

"But!" Ragnaf shouted as he looked worriedly at Grovitch then surrounding orcs. If he left, there was no way Grovitch would survive this situation.

"Don't worry about me," Grovitch soothed the young orc. "I might not be as smart as Durst, but I'm definitely just as strong as him. These punks can't take me down." He cast a gaze at the orcs and dwarfs surrounding the village. "Listen, Durst's tactics bought us a small window. Don't waste it!"

"Hehe, don't shout at the child, Grovitch," an old, haunting, weak voice joked.

Renark paled and whirled around in shock to see the supposedly dead Guvern Dreamstone seated upright on the ground. Despite the fact there were two bowl-sized holes in his chest, the old shaman looked as healthy as ever, eyes sharp, piercing and filled with vitality.

"Impossible!" Renark shouted as he stared at the old man. "This can't be! You're dead!" Renark's shock and fear were understandable. The core of his plan hinged on this old man's death! He had personally punched out the old man's heart and lungs, so he was confident of the old man's demise! Not even the orcs' impressive regeneration abilities could heal a wound of that magnitude so quickly. So, how should he explain the phenomenon before him? Wait, now that he thought about it...

"Hahahahaha!" Renark burst out in laughter as he recalled a particular phenomenon. [Overdraw] or as it was known amongst the common folk, 'A life that had been pulled taut like a bow.' This phenomenon occurred when some factors coincided at the end of a person's life. It allowed them to pull together their entire lifeforce for one final attack or action. The most telling sign of this phenomenon was the fact that its user would, for a moment, adopt a strangely healthy appearance, sometimes even getting younger. However, once a minute had elapsed, or the attack had been used, the user would immediately pass away.

It was a rare skill that was deadly when it caught the enemy unawares. However, since Renark knew what it could do, he had no reason to be so cautious. All he had to do was be on guard for the next minute. Oh, wait, make that fifty seconds, and this dangerous bag of bones would collapse all on his own.

"Hehe, Ragelock," Guvern snarled. "I hope you've prepared yourself for the consequences." Dense, green mana swirled around the shaman's right hand as he pointed his palm at Renark.

The traitor's eyes hardened, and he immediately braced himself for the incoming attack. 'Hmph! I still have that! It can at least block one attack.'

To the shock of everyone present, a malicious grin spread on Guvern's face as his palm suddenly swiveled to Ragnaf. "Run! You fool!" Guvern ordered as a mandala suddenly appeared underneath Ragnaf's feet.

Ragnaf's eyes went wide as a torrential amount of power flooded into his bones and muscles. He did not know what had happened, but he understood the severity of Guvern's sacrifice. The orc nodded and immediately charged out of the village center.

"No!" Renark roared in rage as he realized he had been fooled by the old man. He made to chase after the fleeing Ragnaf, but the hated Grovitch blocked his path with a shit-eating grin.

"You're not going anywhere!" Grovitch roared as he clashed against Renark's ax.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

The earth trembled as these colossal men battled, each angrier than the other. Renark pressed the injured Grovitch with numerous fast-paced attacks, angrily forcing the orc to succumb to his injuries. Grovitch for his part played the role of a powerful bulwark. He was steady and strong, weathering Renark's attacks with both ax and body.

"Stop that bastard!" Seeing he would not be able to catch up in a short amount of time, Renark called out to men.

Surprisingly, Ragnaf did not hesitate even as he faced the onrushing enemies. He sprinted at full speed until he was only a few meters away from the closest enemy. At which point, he stomped on the ground, buckled his knees... then jumped!

"WHAT!?"

The Ragelock clan members gawked in shocked as Ragnaf sailed over their heads. The young champion's leap took him several meters behind the army, in a feat of athleticism that did not belong to someone as heavy as an orc.

Ragnaf landed on the ground with a loud thud then took off running out of the village. Some of the Ragelock clan members immediately gave chase, but an even greater number remained as if waiting for something else.

Renark watched Ragnaf's escape with a complicated expression. He turned to the injured Grovitch and said, "Incredible. To think you would willingly throw your life away for that weakling."

"I won't let you insult Durst," Grovitch spat. "That orc is stronger and smarter than you, and I combined. He's only stuck in this small town 'cause he's not interested in ruling."

"And that's exactly why I said he's weak," Renark spat in disgust. He did not wait for Grovitch's reply but instead turned to Guvern. Uncharacteristically, he bowed his head and said, "I will not apologize, Guvern Dreamstone. My ambition does not allow me to remain in a small town."

Guvern smiled and shook his head. "The future belongs to the young. Forgive this old man for stepping in." With those words, the shaman shut his eyes and breathed his last.

Renark turned to Grovitch and let out a loud sigh. "Put down your ax Grovitch. You have completed your mission. You'll lose your life if you fight any longer..."