Her soul shall twist the many strands of fate,

Bringing to her those who love and hate.

-prophecy of the duskbringer

4978 A.D. Spring...

Burka never knew his parents. But what he remembered before the ring of pain came was his name, accompanied by a warm embrace that instilled a sense of security.

The ring around his neck was cold and made him tired.

He tried to take it off while he heard the jingling of small pieces of metal colliding, large beings laughed and shoved him into a small place.

He stayed there for a while.

Food was a mush slop, it was not tasty but it brought him some strength so he ate it anyway.

The small place he was in started moving.

He listened while he lay curled up, and watched through gaps of his small space.

Slowly he made sense of what was said.

Many days passed.

Burka tracked the cycles of the sun and the movements of the moons.

One large blue moon and a smaller red one chased each other across the sky when it was dark, Burka made little stories to himself as to why they raced across the sky, he grunted in hilarity at his own jokes as he made them, it helped the time pass.

One evening he heard a story of the moons not of his making when the large one called Lamki and the fat one called Greelim were eating around the hot hungry thing, the fire they called it.

The moons were called the twin sisters, Rai the little red sister, full of life and love and passion. Shar the elder, wise and logical in her movements.

The two sisters were once mortals who fell in love with the sun, and abandoning their duties in the realm of mortals chased him into the heavens. Their dereliction of duty brought upon the world catastrophe, and as punishment a boundary was set between them and their goal, forever they raced, trying to catch up and win his affection and notice, but cursed in their arrogance to never reach, only reflecting his light.

Burka wondered what this love was, was it yummy? It must have been good if the twins chased it so. His stomach growled at the thought.

Over the course of time, Burka learned many things through his senses.

He learned that the little pieces of metal that jingled were highly valued by these beings called humans.

He further learned the language of humans until he understood most if not all that was said.

He learned that the strong ruled and magic equaled strength when the merchant convoy was attacked by bandits, and Greelim blasted them to ash with a magical staff he carried.

Burka made sure to always follow Greelims' instructions carefully after that, being ash didn’t seem much fun.

By the time half a year had passed he learned all these things.

His master's arrived at a big place, they waited in front of, then passed very big things called walls, the noise level went up, a lot.

Burka held his hands over his ears, they hurt, their sensitivity abused by the din, gradually he adapted and listened once more. The smell didn’t get much better though.

He shuffled around attempting to relieve his stiff muscles, already he was cramped inside the cage, his growth outstripping his allotted space.

Burka relished his relative freedom when the cage was opened and he was allowed to exit into a large space filled with many humans.

There were others of his kind here too, most being led in a line towards the back of a wooden platform that held a yelling man.

Burka was shoved into line and forced to slowly shuffle forward.

Once he reached the front of the line a man who sat writing there asked his master Greelim

"registered name and clan".

Burka's master fumbled with some papers and swore.

"Only got a clan name, Burka".

The man with a feather in his hand peered at Burka, seeing an orc child, humanoid but with an orc’s typical ash grey skin, wearing but a ragged loincloth.

As the feather man examined Burka he noticed an odd permutation, the orc child had thin green colorings that ran along and further defined his musculature.

"Call him Jade" He snorted as he scribbled down a note. "NEXT!"

Jade was sold that day to the highest bidder, a man with strangely colorful clothes who stood out from the crowd.

Some towering men came and grabbed Jade by the back of his neck. Jade knew not to struggle, it would bring only pain.

After master Greelim and the colorful man each did something with his collar Burka was taken and thrown into a large cage on the back of a cart.

Stumbling from the force of the throw, he fell against others of his kind, their eyes dull and limbs slack as they lay on the floor and against the sides of the cage.

He attempted to question several of them about their destination but received only short, uninterested grunts. Bored, he watched as the six-legged chirika were harnessed to the wagon.

Shortly they departed the open square passing slowly through crowds of humans and calgaree going their ways.

Boola's mooed as they were lead into smelly buildings, their long hair touching the ground.

Zugzugs squealed and grunted as they searched for scraps, and suks barked behind walls or in alleys.

There was so much going on that was interesting for Jade to watch. And the people! There were so many of them, and not one was the same!

Burka’s curiosity as to their destination was fulfilled in time as they crossed a bridge, then some more walls, upon which the swarms of people quickly faded away.

They slowly approached a large building set on a slight hill before stopping at a set of black gates. A grinding of metal sounded and the gates in front of them slowly swung open. They had passed a much larger set of gates a short time ago that were far more impressive, but they had only opened for a glittering carriage, not for them, Jade was not sure why they had to travel further for these gates, they must be special.

The wagon passed through a garden of flowers encircled by a small orchard and arrived at some huts that were hidden from view of the gate.

Distracted by the beautiful flowers and plants that he had not seen before Jade was startled when the door slammed open.

"On yer feet trash!" yelled a man with a stout belly and yellowed teeth. A sour, pungent odor drifted over and assaulted Jade's nose.

"Haplow, where you at? You had best g-"

"I am here, master Creety" replied an aged Orc as he appeared right behind the man called Creety.

Burka rubbed his eyes with his little fists, he could have sworn the orc was not there a second ago.

"Podos's teeth, don't sneak up on me like that you maggot" Creety punctuated his words with a punch, slamming his fist solidly into Haplow's face and knocking him to the ground.

"Take care of the new slaves for me, I'm a going drinking with me mates." With that Creety sauntered off, taking an occasional swig from a battered old flask.

Jade jumped down from the carriage and walked up to Haplow.

"Why did you let yourself get hit?" he asked, tilting his head in confusion.

Haplow grinned while brushing his white hair from his face.

"Well aren't you an observant little runt. I’ll tell you why, that man has a belly full of hate, drawing his ire is never a good idea. If I had blocked, dodged, or firmed my stance he would have hurt himself in one way or another, and in his eyes he would have lost to an orc slave. So instead of a blow he would have sought far meaner and pettier forms for his revenge.

Tell me runt, which situation would you prefer?".

Jade thought about it for a moment, referencing his slender life experience before replying.

"A blade from the front is better than 3 from the shadow".

This brought an approving chuckle from the old orc.

"I can tell we will get along better than those broken ones" Haplow grimaced as he waved to the other Orcs that had been in the cage with Burka.

They were slowly exiting and heading to the huts, their shoulders slumped and footsteps heavy.

"An Orc must find honor in living these days, for we have precious little else."

Haplow’s eyes clouded over for a moment before he shook his head and ruffled Jades messy hair.

"Come, little runt, let's get some hot food in you."

Jade followed the old orc back to the huts, running to keep up with his long strides.

"How old are you Haplow?" asked Jade as he stared at the abundance of white in the old orc’s braided beard.

"Thirty-four this spring." Haplow looked at Jade and grinned, fully baring his large canines.

"I have maybe three or four years left in this world little runt, our kind were not made with time in mind. But I have lived, and loved, and lost in my years. Which is more than most orcs can say. I will not regret my passing when it comes…”

“All that remains now is passing my wisdom on to the next generation. A job that is not new to me, but one that I think I will relish with you. What are you called young one? for you will not be a runt for long."

"Jade, Burka Jade" Jade replied as he followed the elder orc into the welcome light and warmth of the hut.