https://www.mtggoldfish.com/articles/against-the-odds-red-black-minotaurs

Smiling as he looked up into those beady little eyes, Drakas retorted, “What do you mean?”

Expression hardened into steel as the hulking blue skinned warrior shook his shaggy head from side to side, Wargrim snarled, “You know what I mean, traitor," his voice booming like a thunder. "Who are you to give us commands? To put this girl in charge! I am Wargrim! Son of Dalbrak! King of Gilgathan! And Butcher of Cities! And I will have your head, you traitorous dog!”

But much to Drakas’ surprise, the giant did not move towards him, but simply stood there glowering down at him. It made Drakas wonder if this was all for show, meant to test his strength. Or perhaps Wargrim too wondered at the loyalty of his fellow warriors.

All eyes upon them as they faced off against each other in the streets, Drakas itched to draw the mace at his side, and put an end to this arrogant preening demon worshipper. But he too knew that a fight would likely cause his own forces to turn against each other in a chaotic slaughter. So as much as he despised the huge blue skinned warrior, he also needed the giant.

Releasing a heavy breath at the sacrifices he must make, he asked, “What would you have me do, Wargrim? Stay here and die? Barkan is dead, and I do what I must, so that we may all survive, and go home.”

The giant’s face twisted up into a rictus of rage, Wargrim spat into the ground at his feet. “He should never have trusted you, grey worm. I do not know how you defeated our master, but you will not leave this place alive. You do not have the favor of our Lord! You have doomed us all!” This change in tactic, causing quite a stir as whispers spread around him.

Knowing many who still believed in Lord Tazrael's power, Drakas' feared what would happen if they believed that Tazrael was not on their side. To not follow the will of demonlord was one thing. But to invoke his wrath?...

Lips peeled back into sneer as he tried to think quickly, he proclaimed, “how then was I able to defeat him? Do you believe anyone could have defeated the Champion of Lord Tazrael?! To best the God of Fear?" Arms outstretched, he continued, "I think not, and while we waste our time here, our enemies gather. Perhaps it is you that should fear the will of Tazrael.” He finished with a shake of his head, before he continued towards the gates. “Enough, I have no more words for you.”

His shoulders squared off just in case, with his mace close to hand, Drakas could sense the blue skinned giant’s hesitation, could feel his dark penetrating gaze upon him, when abruptly the thirty foot tall giant began to stride away. The ground rumbling underneath his footsteps as the Wargrim roared, “We shall see, greyskin. Brothers, we ready ourselves for war!”

Breath released in a harsh guttural sigh as he saw the blue skinned giant return to his position, Drakas felt every instinct tell him to go after the huge warrior, and put him down. Before he shook his head tiredly, his mind weary with exhaustion, and moved on towards the gates. The two orcs at his side, each exchanging looks of relief. Even as deluded as the giant was, Wargrim was a fearsome warrior, with a deadly reputation, and would likely have cost them many lives.

His gaze focused back on the red brick road that wound its way through the city, his nose was filled with the noxious stench of ripened corpses that still lingered in the breeze, and heard the demon laugh softly in his ear, “Those who follow my son, are fools. I have told him many times it is better to have those who serve him, join him willingingly. Remember this, warrior, and you shall live to see the end.”

Not in the slightest bit comforted by his words, Drakas shook his head again, when he reached the high stone archway of the city's gate, and called up to the goblin on duty in the rounded stone bastion. “Open the gates!”

Steel studded door swung outward with a loud creak, he felt a brief moment of panic at the possibility of what he might lose here, but at the same time, rage. Rage that what should have been a simple task, could lead to more bloodshed. The blood of his people, the blood of innocents, and blood of those that should never have been here in the first place. He also thought of Shureen who had spent her entire life working towards this moment, and Kirgin, a young goblin that had only ever known brutality.

His face a grim mask of determination, he watched the gap widen gradually, showing a rugged brown landscape, covered in huge stone pillars, craggy boulders, patches of green vegetation, and a glittering army of minotaur warriors in silver armor that shone in the sunlight. Large banners fluttering atop the breeze, he saw the familiar dark sapphire eyes on its field of light blue, and left the city walls behind him. It was time to see if these Honor Blades had any honor.

There between the walls, and the city, he slowly approached three heavily muscled minotaurs in their golden armor, their horns painted to match their brilliant chest plates, and greatswords strapped to their backs.

Yorin, his darkly tanned green face covered in sweat, coming up alongside Drakas as he spoke softly, “I fear they do not wish to speak, my lord.”

Staring at the battle hardened minotaurs beneath those helmets that were cut around their curling horns, Drakas could sense their hatred, contempt, and disgust, and thought too that this was a pointless endeavor. But at the same time as his gaze took in sight of Raltier's city walls, he thought he saw Shureen, and knew then that he had no choice.

Back stiff as strode forward to meet the trio of Honor Blades, he noticed that the first one, carried a long grey beard on his chin, dark blue eyes, and a deep scar across his left cheek. He also looked to be much older, and held a considering expression on his face.

Gazes locked together as he stopped just short of them, he could feel the wind whip up dust around him, feel heat of the four suns at his back, and spoke, “I am Drakas.”

The simple words slipped easily from his tongue as the lead minotaur nodded his head, “I am Light Storm, and I ask you this. By what right have you invaded my lands, slaughtered my people, and dared to call for this meeting?”

Left cheek twitching at the barely contained anger in his voice, Drakas turned his attention to the minotaur warriors on either side, and realized that one was clutching his greatsword in hand, his fingers bone white, and his bright green eyes burning with hatred. “Where is my brother?! Where is Grey Eyes?!”

Unable to help but stiffen at the mention of the name, Drakas remembered the dining room hall where Barkan had slain the young minotaur lord, and felt a cold chill inside. So this was his brother Iron-Heart?

Head already shaking from side to side, Drakas replied, “I fear that he is dead, killed by my former master. Know that his death has been avenged, and that all those that remain here with me, desire peace, not war.”

“Peace?!” Spat the warrior, “You monsters murdered my people! Killed my brother! And now you seek peace! By the Light I should cut you down, you miserable dog.”

Greatsword snatched up from his shoulders, Drakas began to fear that the truth may not have been a mistake, but instead of drawing his mace, he held out his arms. “It is the truth. The dark one that led us here is dead. It was he that desired this war.”

His lips pulled back into sneer, Iron-Heart advanced forward, greatsword moving in, when Light Storm held up his arm. “Let him speak.”

Body literally shaking with rage, Iron-Heart’s face twisted up into a dark scowl. “What is there to hear?! This foul beast has all but admitted to murdering my brother! I say we burn them all! Let them all be cleansed in the burning purity of light!”

Drakas, his gaze locked onto the much older minotaur’s stern blue eyes, began to wonder if there may be hope after all. But what else could he do to prove that he was no longer an enemy. Surrender? No, that would mean risking everything on the justice of the minotaurs. Whereas a battle here, and now could mean certain defeat for them. His only hope was the evacuation of the city. He just needed to gain more time for her. But how?

His shoulders slumped forward as he drifted back into his own memories, he spoke softly, “Years ago, when I was but a young ogrekan. My people lived in peace and harmony with the land. We were happy. But then our home was attacked. Burned to the ground by dark ones who murdered my family. And for many years now, I have felt the sting of their whip, seen my people forced into servitude, and taught the ways of war. We were given no choice, no hope, no way to free ourselves, till last night when I slew Barkan.” He pointed his finger back at his three demon blades that suddenly shifted unconformably. “They too have the same story as me. All we wish now is return home.”

With a snarl, Iron-Heart bellowed, “Lies! Die! Beast of hell!” His greatsword flashing for Drakas’ skull.