Laruhk gazed up from where he knelt. "There can be no doubt. These are the footprints of Orcs."
Kargen looked around, scanning the distant trees for any signs of activity. "We must be in their tribal area, but I see no sign of them other than those prints. How old are they?"
"Perhaps a day, no more."
"Then this must be their hunting grounds."
"What do we do?" asked Laruhk. "Turn around?"
"No, we will continue, but we must cease hunting. At least until we make contact with our fellow tribe."
"We have no idea which tribe that might be. Could my sister not give us some guidance? Would not the Ancestors know?"
"We can not keep pestering the Ancestors," said Kargen, "or they will refuse to answer the call when we need them most. It is up to us to find our brothers and sisters."
"And if they should prove hostile?"
"When have Orcs ever been hostile to each other? We have enough trouble with Humans. We do not need to find fault with each other."
"Wise words, my friend," said Laruhk, "but should we, at least, take precautions?"
"What would you suggest?"
"Let me put hunters to the front and sides. That way, it will lessen the likelihood of being surprised."
"You are thinking like a leader, Laruhk. Perhaps one day you shall be chieftain?"
"I am content to be a hunter," his friend replied.
Kargen grinned. "So be it. Now, be off with you, hunter, and get your people into place."
"Yes, my chieftain." Laruhk ran off at a sprint, eager to begin his new task.
"He is enthusiastic," noted Shaluhk.
"What is this now? Praise for your brother? Are you feeling well?"
"I am fine. I am just trying to be more thankful for what we have."
"And what has brought forth these feelings?"
"Simply the situation we find ourselves in."
"How so?" Kargen asked.
"It is clear that very shortly, we shall be encountering another tribe. The question, of course, is what that means. Will we continue to be the Orcs of the Red Hand? Or will we be absorbed into another?"
"Why would you think that?"
"I have taken stock of our situation these past few ten-days," she said, "as I know you have. The truth is the very tradition that has named our tribe is dead."
"I am not sure I follow."
"Our tribe dyes their hands red for battle to signify the magic of fire, and yet we no longer have a master of flame."
"It is a development I have not given much thought to," said Kargen, "but now that you mention it, I see what you mean. The loss of Artoch is felt deeply."
"So what do we do?"
"That is for the tribe to decide." He fell silent, but then a smile crept over his face.
"Tell me, bondmate," said Shaluhk, "what is it that pleases you so?"
"You."
"I am flattered, of course, but I know how your mind works. You are thinking of something else."
"I am," he admitted. "It occurs to me Artoch passed on his knowledge before his untimely death."
Shaluhk cast her gaze at the tribe as they walked past. "To whom?"
"To Athgar!"
"But he is a Human."
"True, yet he is also a member of this tribe. As such, who is to say that he could not train others?"
"Very true," agreed Shaluhk, "but he is not with us at present."
"Also true. Still, I am confident we will soon be reunited. We did not come all this way for nothing."
Agar rushed past them, his wooden axe held high, a primal scream erupting from his mouth.
"He is eager," said Kargen.
"Yes," agreed Shaluhk. "He takes after my brother."
"Is that such a bad thing?"
"No, I suppose not. There are worse Orcs he could imitate."
A call from the north drew their attention, then Durgash appeared, pushing his way past the advancing tribe.
"What is it, Durgash?" asked Kargen.
"We have encountered another tribe," the hunter revealed. "You must come at once."
"Very well. Lead the way."
Kargen and Shaluhk followed him northward. Upon contact, the rest of the tribe had halted and were now sitting at rest while their chieftain sought permission to cross tribal lands.
Laruhk waited for them, staring northward to where an unknown Orc stood with shield and spear, dried mud smeared on his face, no doubt to mark him as a hunter.
"I do not recognize the tribe," said Kargen.
"I do," said Shaluhk. "He is a member of the Stone Crushers. The shield identifies him as such."
Kargen focused on the lone Orc. The shield was rounded, as was the custom amongst their race, its front displaying a picture of a stone spear tip.
"Come, bondmate. It is time we talked with our cousins."
"Take care of Agar," said Shaluhk, turning to her brother. "He is around here somewhere."
They approached cautiously, not through fear, but through respect. Kargen bowed his head. "Greetings, Cousin. I am Kargen, Chieftain of the Orcs of the Red Hand."
"Greetings, Kargen of the Red Hand," the Orc replied. "I am Karag, hunter of the Stone Crushers. Do you come in peace?"
"Yes. We have fled our home due to danger."
"What type of danger?"
"The worst of all, Humans."
"I understand your plight. Our people came here for the same reason, though that was generations ago. What is it you wish?"
"Only to live in peace and harmony with our fellow Orcs."
"You have the gift of speech," said Karag, "but it is my chieftain, Zahruhl, with whom you must speak. Only he can allow passage through our lands."
"Then lead the way, Karag, and we shall lay our case before him."
Karag bowed, then turned, leading them deeper into the woods.
The village of Khasrahk was similar in layout to Ord-Kurgad but with one big difference; the walls here were made of solid stone as were the buildings therein.
"Their shamans wield the magic of the earth," noted Shaluhk as they passed the entrance.
"Yes," agreed Kargen. "It reminds me of the legends of the ancient Orc cities. It is said that they, too, were made of stone."
"Despite the stone, they are still our cousins."
A small crowd had gathered to witness their arrival. An elderly Orc, wearing cloth of grey, moved closer. "Welcome,"
