The Story of Orin the Traitor

[Harrowed]

The Story of Orin the Traitor

Creak … creak … creak … creak … crash.

The wooden door crashed open, a frantic man bursting into the room.

“You have to run, they are almost here.” The boy, just old enough to be called a man in these hard times, was rain soaked but fire could be seen shining in his eyes.

“I will not run, my time has come’, an old woman voice, ‘and I have one last service to perform.”

“The Legates will kill you, they will torture and kill you! You know that, how can you stay here knowing that?” The young man voice was thick with panic and fear.

Creak … creak … creak …

The woman rose from her rocking chair. Her clenched walking stick made a sharp tapping noise as she approached the man. “Leave, before they catch you. I will be fine. These Shadow worshipper will do what I want them to.” She turned away from the man and returned to her chair, and settled in with a sigh.

The man shook his head at the woman, “Fool”; he hissed under his breath and rushed from the home out into the pouring rain.

The old women eyed the open door and wet floor with distain, ‘Doesn’t matter now, not much time left.’ She resumed her rocking with a sigh.

Creak … creak … creak … creak … creak … creak …

She looked up towards the door her eyes narrowed against a flash of lightning. When the flash subsided a large hulking form was filling the doorway.

“Seer’, the form spoke with a bestial voice, ‘why would you return here? To the village of your birth, you should have known it was watched.” The hulk shifted and moved into the room. It could be clearly seen as an Oruk, stooped down from its full height.

The old woman rose from her chair, “Why do you ask, Orin? Is your mission not simply to kill me, why speak to me?”

“I have chased you across Erenland and I will have an answer from you,’ the Oruk paused and then continued his voice laced with confusion, ‘Why did I say that, what have you done?”

“I’ve done nothing, except a sorcery. A sorcery that prevents speaking lies.”

With the same confused tone, “Why, you have used magic before to elude me. Why would you do that? What could it protect you from?”

“Simple, it protects me from lies. That is what I require protection from here, not you or your demon. Summon it from the house across the way, I sense it’s urge to feed on my flesh.”

Orin, the confusion more pronounced on its face, carefully turned towards the door. “Grandithina, to me.” Out of the storm a wolf slunk into the room, a low growl in its throat as the creature spoke.

“Kill her, she is dangerous. Kill her’, the Astirax paused and glared at the old woman, ‘a truth compulsion. Die!” The wolf leaped towards the old woman, teeth bared and trailing foam. With a roar Orin grabbed the wolf by the collar and threw it against the doorframe. CRASH. The wolf slammed into the wall and collapsed to the floor whimpering.

“I tell you when to kill Grandithina, you decide nothing! Now stay there or I’ll stomp you flat.”

The old woman laughed, “Ouch, did that hurt Astirax,’ more laughter, ‘ask him Orin. Ask a question, he cannot lie here.”

Orin turned towards the wolf, “Interesting, you may be of use before you die old woman. Grandithina, why did this old woman elude me at the river crossing? How did she escape?”

“She escaped because I warned her.” The wolf closed its jaws with a snap.

“What! Why did you do that,’ the wolf whimpered and started to crawl towards the door, ‘Stay there or I’ll throw you through one of these walls. Answer me!” Orin grabbed the hilt of his Vardatch and rattled the sword menacingly.

The wolf glared at the old woman, “Another legate paid me. He wanted the glory from capturing the Seer.” Orin roared and drew the Vardatch. With a swift motion he hacked the head from the wolf and turned back towards the woman, the wicked blade dripping blood across the floor. Growling as he spoke, “You’ll die for this old woman.”

“Nothing is stopping you from killing me. Just remember that no one can tell a lie here. My enchantment was strong enough that your demon told you what she knew you would kill her for. So kill me. “ The old woman stepped towards Orin her arms spread wide.

Orin glared at the approaching woman, “Fine, then. Die for the Shadow!” Jabbing with the dripping Vardatch Orin ran the jagged blade through the old woman until the hilt stopped at her chest. The old woman gasped and then moaned as the blade shredded her insides. Fighting for breath she looked up at Orin, their faces only inches apart.

Blood foamed out of her mouth as she fought against death to gasp, “Remember, only truths …’, with a quick motion that belayed the weakness in her voice she slapped a withered hand against Orin’s cheek and held it there as she spoke one final word.

“See”

Orin’s vision exploded. The old woman and home disappeared as shifting images formed. First, shapeless colors then the colors started to form into images. Orin could see the Black Tower and surrounding it legions upon legions of Oruks, Orcs, Trolls, and Giants. An endless sea of the Shadow’s Armies. Somehow he knew that Izrador himself had summoned them to the Tower, to witness his final victory over his enemies. Orin heart sung to see the Black Tower and the Shadow victorious. The tower started to shake and rumble while a faint glow from the black stones grew to a brightness that hurt Orin’s eyes to see. With a flash the light increased and grew out from the tower. Orin could see the light spreading over the gathered ranks and, with horror, watched as the light killed everything that it touched with its rays. Orc and Giant alike collapsed dead to the ashen ground. Orin somehow knew it was because his armies were no longer needed. The Shadow had been victorious, why did he need an army?

Orin found himself back in the house and collapsed to the floor with a crash. Groaning he sat up and looked around the room. The old woman was dead. He stared at her. She had shown him a truth; Izrador did not care for his armies. He would dispose of them, as soon they were not needed. None of the promised slaves, glory, or riches. It was all lies.

Orin slid his Vardatch from the old woman’s body. He stared at her for several moments then turned and walked out into the storm.

Orin the Traitor
6th Level Warrior / 3rd Level Wildlander
Seer Heroic Path

By Harrowed