The morning fog blanketed the ground like a glimpse into the spirit realm, the eminent sense of danger hung over every slave carefully waiting to attack. Something was dreadfully wrong and Destin could sense it the moment he awoke. Silence, not even the crows watched Vertrock from above, nothing stirred. He jumped from fright once the orc’s horn sounded for all to rise and be at attention.

He hastily rose up to his feet looking for Goddar hoping to see if this fear was all in his head or if there indeed was something to fear. No luck, the fog caused him to only see a few feet in front of him. The slaves quickly rushed out to stand in their lines at attention before the orcs grew restless like they had in the past. The moisture from the fog made it difficult to tell if the beads of sweat on his forehead was his cold sweat from nervousness or only the weather.

This morning was different, and he knew it. The horn blew a second time, all the men stood at attention staring straight ahead, not budging an inch. Every morning it was the same routine, though this time the orcs materialized as they crossed the fog. The man next to Destin began breathing harder in nervousness causing Destin’s heart rate to rise dramatically almost pounding through his chest.

Destin knew he needed to quickly calm himself down to not bring any unnecessary attention to himself. He counted himself lucky. He was in the second row meaning there was a good chance of not being spotted. Still at this point, there was a good chance someone in his sector would be chosen either to be made an example of, or worse… He counted five orcs in all, each carried spears, his heart sank once he realized the tallest one in the middle was…

His eyes widened when he realized it was Druvairuk. Everything was confirmed, the hunch he felt was beyond correct and everything in Destin’s body told him to run. To his amazement he still held his ground but felt his legs slightly shaking in the mud. Closing his eyes for a moment he strived to move that fear to the back of his mind, hide it from the world if for anything a few minutes. Just enough to make it past this event, yet he didn’t know if he would last even that long.

Hearing the orcs footsteps sink in the mud with every step the sloshing growing closer to Destin he opened his eyes carefully watching from the corners of Druvairuk stepping towards him. He managed to conceal all feelings of fears outside of his mind, camouflaged from even the closest observer.

Druvairuk continued his pacing down the line of men. They were taught to stand four rows back and seven men across, and all in all there were about ten groups of men if Destin counted right. The captain stopped in his tracks, the tension so thick he was sure he could see it. He stood in front of a straggly man, who hunched over slightly with the mountainous orc towering over him. That was all Druvairuk needed. In an instant the slave collapsed to the ground, the pool of blood mixed with the puddle from the previous storm.

Destin was stunned, missing the movement of the captain who delivered the blow. The orcs statement was made. Yet he feared this was only the beginning. This was a regular occurrence, it was never at this magnitude. Something was wrong, something was thrown off the balance, and the orcs were on edge. Destin saw all the slaves stood wide eyed seeing their comrade’s corpse lifeless. One of the newer men began to tremor helplessly, looking around for any chance of solitude, but would get no such thing.

Observing with his eyes, Destin pleaded for him to stop moving, stop giving yourself away like that! He needed to stay in control or it was all over, but it was too late. The orc sensed the terror in the man peered over at the slave three rows over from him.

Without warning, the silence the man held, broke. He screamed with his whole body in pure terror. The eyes wide staring at death itself, the mouth adamant and open, his tattered face cadaverous accepting him in. Instantly, he broke into a stumbled sprint, parting the men behind him to move faster, though little seemed to help. The commander carnivorously roared, lunging the spear as if it was lighter than a feather between the line of slaves, impaling the human through the chest. Dead.

Not a word, not a muscle moved, everyone watched forward, completely disregarding what just took place. A drop of rain tapped Destin’s shoulder followed by one on his cheek, it slowly trickled down with the slightest itch though he didn’t even bother to flinch. They didn’t have a choice at this point. All they could do is face what was before them and survive. It felt like it was all up to chance in the end, which never was a comforting feeling.

Druvairuk snarled turning his back on the men walking away from his kill. Destin ran through his mind the innumerable situations on why the orcs carried such aggression. No orc has ever just killed two humans for no reason in recent memory. What could it be? Every time this happened he could not help but feel utterly helpless.

For Destin he suddenly had the revelation as to what the anger was. Inspection! His heart jumped up pounding through his chest. He was glad the rain fell and hid his cold sweat. An inspection hasn’t happened for around eight months, though he recalled the last one as if it happened just the day before. The commanders searched and inspected the premise for anything and everything to call to order.

In the end, the orcs would practically torture a select few from each campsite to ensure no chance of escape was possible or planned from anyone. If selected, you were never seen again.

Rain began to fall consistently blanketing the entire field dismissing the fog around them. The movement of the orcs became almost impossible to follow. In the distance the five began to move towards the slave standing at attention a group over from Destin. The anticipation of what their fate was almost would drive a man mad. The orc’s armor rang with every tap of the rain on the blackened metal.

They halted in their tracks looking around at the humans wearily standing in the pouring rain. The orcs breath showed through each breath they took. Studying the human’s closely he would inspect them from head to toe seeming to read exactly what they were thinking. He grabbed a man by the jaw, the man practically collapsing in terror. The orc took his thumb and with his finger nail cut across his forehead, the man trembled in pain, yet still stood his ground.

Two orcs walked up grabbing the man pulling him away from the group as the man began to shout from his lungs, “Wait! Wait!! No!” That was all he could get out before the blow to the head from the first orc silenced him, he was dragged away to be taken to the fortress.

Destin vaguely remembered the fortress at the front of Vertrock. He entered the front gates when he was brought in. The maze of hallways made it difficult to follow once he exited the great hall. He knew it was built by the orcs from the workmanship, but the orcs had occupied it for so long all traces of that lifetime were almost lost. The towers were what he feared, recalling the screams he heard from the victims being tortured while he passed through.

No sign of Goddar anywhere, which was promising to Destin. This meant that odds are he was in the back of the pack and was not going to get selected. Veterans had a slim chance of being selected mainly due to the orcs recollected them over the months seeing they were so few. This slightly put his heart at ease for the moment.

Two more men were dragged away from two more orcs. Being smart they made not a sound, but it wouldn’t make much difference seeing their fate sealed in the fortress. Destin pieced together the clues. Knowing they were going to be questioned. Why? Did someone discover their plan of escape and turn Goddar and him in? It seemed unlikely but what else was there?

Footsteps slowly grew in sound but Destin paid no attention to it. Hoping, praying they would continue walking on by. Druvairuk stood towering over Destin who only starred past him into the distance. Why did he stop here? Unless, there was a chance… Goddar turned him in! His eyes immediately grew wider beyond his control. He couldn’t trust anyone, but he trusted Goddar, the dwarf who had been here longer than anyone. He hunted for the orcs and would turn the men in, that had to be it. It's why he wasn’t in formation.

The tug on his arm caused him to rise into a sudden panic as he was being dragged away from two more orcs who had approached without Destin noticing. Unfathomable shock jolted his body filled with a rage unlike any he had felt before. Fight back would not help, whatever his fate was now was not the time to fight. He would need to strategize this correctly and carefully. Being dragged away, regardless of his fate, he vowed to himself silently, “I am going to kill Goddar!”

Dragged into the fortress Destin was maneuvered around the inner workings until he was brought to a spiral staircase. The onyx stone walls twisted upward, he could only assume that this was the tower he constantly observed from the outside, but of the five towers he was unsure which one specifically he was being led up.

A long flight of stairs carried him into a wide hallway, doors populating the sides. The orcs held their grips on Destin as the doorway at the end of the halls guarded by two orcs. The doors slammed open which revealed a number of prison cells. Looked as if to be a waiting room for the slaves, he assumed, that was confirmed when a scream echoed in the room above him.

The orcs opened the cell door, forcing Destin in and swiftly left to return to their posts. Destin had a quick look around hoping by some chance of a way to escape. The interrogation was coming but he was unsure of when. Destin rested his arms resting on the bars contemplating the next few moments of his life as screams echoed from the human being interrogated. He counted only two others in the cells around him, realizing he had less time than previously estimated.

A harrowing scream rang out again. Destin glanced around the room, trying to discover the source of the scream with how close it seemed to sound. A man across from Destin sat in the corner. “Why? Why are we even here? Not like we know anything.” The man demeaningly protested. “Congrats, you made it to your last day. A sentence given to us for merely existing!”

Destin ignored him while he continued to think of the possible means of escape. The chance of picking the locks looked promising but the fact that once he opened the door to be greeted by the orcs guarding it, he would be in trouble. Would his abilities as a Highborn be enough to confront orcs? Difficult to say, especially with not knowing how powerful a fatal blow would need to be, let alone just disarming it.

The sudden outburst of the scream was suddenly silenced. Whoever was up there, was gone from this world. A blessing really considering this wretched prison encaged them until their final day. Destin wasn’t prepared to be the next person to be questioned. Knowing if worse comes to worse he would retaliate, which he would fight to the death! Whether it be ten orcs or a hundred, he would fight until he received his final blow, ending his life.

The ground from under Destin shook from beneath him for a moment almost causing him to lose his balance. He held onto the rails until the tremors ceased. He looked over at the other man in the cell, “What was that?” He wondered.

“Earthquake, what else? Think before you ask the obvious questions.” The slave said condescendingly.

In all his time here Destin had never felt any such rumble. There was something peculiar about it but inside these four walls behind the cell, he was unable to investigate it further. The only thing he could assume was it being indeed an earthquake seeing as they were in the center of a mountain range in Perdition.

The door swung open with three orcs moved into the hallway being lead by Druvairuk walking down to the end where the final three slaves waited. They stopped at the cell doorways and observed the two waiting to be taken. Destin moved to the back wall of the cell he was in giving as much distance possible while Druvairuk decided the next slaves fate. He then signaled to the other two which celled to open as they moved to unlock Destin’s door. It opened and in a moment Destin was dragged out of his cell.

The blood left his face, he turned paler than a fresh coat of winter snow. Destin tensed up in absolute fear realizing this was his end, his vision becoming disfigured. The screams flooded his mind, imagining all the pain the last subject of the torturer put him through, the pain he was about to embrace. No amount of power possessed could save him from his fate.

The orcs moved him across the hallway and were about out the door when a man quietly laughed, “Knew it would be you. Nice knowing ya kid!” he snarkily acknowledged. Everyone stopped. Druvairuk snarled a vociferous growl seeming to almost rumble the walls themselves. Suddenly the fear of a cowardly slave filled the entire room as the footsteps of a single orc were heard approaching his cell.

Druvairuk braced the slave’s cell door and with a sudden pull managed to unhinge the cell door with ease. The man let out a final scream, the iron cell door was rushed towards the slave until it collided with him against the wall, pinning him in the corner. The orc grabbed the man’s throat, his screams extinguished before his throat was torn out. Leaving the cell door in its place, the man slowly died. Druvairuk walked past the orcs not speaking a single word as the remainder of the blood dripped from his hand.

Catching a glimpse of the sun rays peering into the window onto the stone stairs Destin accurately estimated that he was in the east tower of the fortress seeing as it was still morning in Vertrock.

He closely monitored his surroundings but when he entered the chamber Destin was surprised with how it was laid out. He almost expected a wall of devices used to create extreme pain, tools to open, break, burn, but this was far from the case. All that lied in the middle of the room was a bloody chair, and a table with a few minor tools scattered across. There goblin stood in the middle of the room with a devilish slimy grin across his face, welcoming new prey into the room.

The orange glow of the creatures eyes stared into Destin’s soul as if to observe exactly what would crack his mind into the madness. It's gray skin moist to the touch, the goblin gently grabbing Destin’s arm to lead him further into the room. “Leave us!” his raucous voice commanded. The orcs immediately turned to leave the room, door closing behind them.

The fact that goblins were here with the orcs caught Destin off guard the most out of the situation. In the year of his occupancy this was the first time that he was seeing such a creature at this camp. The goblin gestured him with malicious intent to have a seat with a grievous grin which caused the fear to become real for him.

“Welcome, and have a seat.” He gazed over noticing the blood splattered across the chair and floor. “Oh, how impolite of me, here let me cover that for you!” He gasped draping a ragged cloth over the chair. “I usually have more time to prepare for my work, but you know people keep waltzing on in unexceptionally!” His voice was raspy, cricked, yet smooth moving. He gestured out his clammy hands, his dagger like nails as long as his fingers themselves.

A scraggly cloth dusted the blood soaked seat Destin was about to sit in. The rag did little to change the cleanliness of the chair, but it was more the gesture behind it. Destin ignored it walking by and sitting on the chair. He wouldn’t dare fight the goblin’s wishes, it would merely make his time worse, sooner. Right now he needed to find a way to stall to hope to solve a way out of this. Studying the room only allowed for more despair. It was a near empty room minus the small table of tools.

“I don’t know what you’ve heard, but from what I can tell it's all good things.” He then tied down Destin’s hands and feet to the bolted down chair. “Now, you’re not in trouble which is probably why you have that much more of a reason to fear.” He raised his fillet knife with it's long, skinny, rusty blade. “I mean don’t get me wrong, if you know anything, then this will to go quicker, but most of all, this is mainly just fun for me.”

Destin finally decided to chime in, “Then why torture anyone?”

His maniacal laugh sounded through the chamber as he rushed over face to face with Destin, his crooked nose pressing against him. “It has nothing to do with a statement, it has everything to do with me!”

His blade scathed across Destin’s forehead at his hairline, lightly cutting him at first. He squinted from the pain as he felt a slight drop of blood trickle down his face. The goblin observed the tolerance of pain and smiled. “I do feel bad, won’t lie. A young kid, barely in adulthood, whole life ahead of him. I do feel bad. You seem to have such high aspirations and to cut them short gives me a great honor.”

“Glad to oblige.” Destin felt to read just how secure the restraints were. If it were chains and a lock that would be one thing though rope presented a new challenge.

The goblin pulled out a jagged dagger from it's sheath on his side as he inspected Destin’s full body for weak points and possibilities of hidden items. “Oh, hiding something are we?” he snarled moving the knife to the chain around Destin’s neck, it slowly rising revealing his father’s ring.

Destin’s heartbeat tripled in pace, his blood beginning to boil at an alarming rate, but he couldn’t lose his cool outwardly. This was a mental game all around, and to show any signs of weakness was accepting death. The magic within him bellowed inside, building up beyond his control fighting with all his might to keep it suppressed.

"Huh, well a good find indeed. I’ll admit I am proud you were able to keep an item like this for so long! I may have underestimated you.” The goblin boasted with a croaking laugh under his breath. He rubbed his hands together in anticipation of what fun was to come. “Before I start though, is there any information you wish to divulge? Anything I deem useful will bring your death that much more quickly.”

Nothing particularly came to mind for Destin, even if he did have something he wouldn’t dare share it. He thought he knew Goddar well enough yet the event of today quickly proved otherwise. Yet, at this point it would be tempting to improvise facts to speed things up, but he would never stoop so low as to drag others down with him.

In that moment Destin realized he didn’t need to drag others down with him. He only needed to stall long enough for the ropes to be cut. If he was correct in his assumption, he would be able to cut each rope slowly and obscurely enough to go unnoticed at which time he could then fight back properly. He needed to time this right, too soon and it would possibly pass as giving out information for the sake of giving it out.

“Eh, very well. You may have nothing yet, and that is fine. You will!” He positioned the knife just under the right shoulder. “How about a game? Should a credible statement arise I will reduce your sentence here by five minutes!”

He began to slowly stab into Destin’s shoulder as he let out a scream in pain. “Now usually most last an hour, some maybe two, though that is rare. Humans are such pathetic beings, I’ll be honest! For claiming such high supremacy over all the land you really are quite weak.” He twisted the blade slightly before pulling the blade out. “How about it?”

He looked down at his wound monitoring how serious it was. “Unfortunately, I don’t know anything!” Destin needed to act fast though, if he was going for more serious hits then the ability to survive quickly diminished. He focused on the ropes around his wrists and ankles until a small stream of light appeared. It slowly cut into the ropes to not bring awareness to the burning smell. Preciseness was everything and the more time he wasted the less of a chance he had making it to the end of the day.

He slowly sliced the blade on his upper arm with two crossing cuts. “Now that is unfortunate indeed.” Turning around he started to returned to his table to select another tool.

With his back turned Destin quickly attempted to heal himself enough to stop the bleeding but not enough to make the goblin suspicious. A dim light illuminated around the wound on the shoulder stopping the bleeding. The goblin faced Destin narrowly avoiding the glimpse of magic.

The creature glided over to his tray of gadgets and knives contemplating which one to use, “Hm, too jagged, too quick to bleed out. Something nice and slow.” He schemed picking up a thin blade with a devilish smile, his eyes lighting up with excitement. Looking over at Destin he showed the source of his new pain, “Good enough?”

Hesitant to show any fear or resistance Destin dared not to give any reaction of any kind to anyone. Needing to stall he had to come up with something rather quick, any kind of information that was believable to continue questioning. At the same time too quick to divulge information had an opportunity of being suspicious Destin believed.

“Honestly the knife can work wonders with my subjects. If it does for whatever reason prove ineffective though we can always change it to breaking some bones.” He cackled lifting a hammer into the air, “Let's start with a lost finger and see where that gets us.”

This sick minded freak was downright serious. Destin decided to quickly object, “Wait, wait! You promise a quicker death if I talk correct?!” he was beginning to look fearful, anything to believe he had some information. Even with the bands of the rope continuing to be cut he still didn’t like the idea of more pain especially broken bones. “I have information, just please no more!”

The goblin perked up rather giddy sliding over to Destin his hands resting on the boys shoulders. “Make it quick then. Longer you take, the longer the inevitable.”

He knew that was true. Half of the band was sliced, just a little longer. “Goddar, the dwarf who has been here for decades. Plans an escape in the following month. Him and five other men.” He added the random men in hoping the numbers would help the call for more detail. “He has found a weakness in this fortress and will exploit it with the explosives to escape.”

“A dwarf?” He stepped back in disbelief a confused look flooding his face. “You really have a fool faith in that race if you believe they can do such a thing. Furthermore, no one has nor ever will escape Vertrock.”

Little longer, few more seconds needed. “He grew up in these mines before the orcs captured it. You really think he doesn’t know the in and outs of the place?” Destin debated. It was working for the moment, it was odd how to witness the goblin was reacting to the knowledge of Goddar, Destin figured he knew he was already the mole of the camp, but possibly not.

“You lie croul!” He challenged his face becoming sharp with anger, “There is no way a single dwarf could thwart the entire prison of Vertrock!”

Destin smiled confidently realizing the bands of rope were almost cleanly cut, “Then why are you showing doubt in your eyes.” The goblin took a step back, eyes widened at the accusation, “You will never harm another here!” Pausing a second the final strands being sliced cleanly through, “You will never harm another life ever!”

The bands split, Destin stood tall with his eyes emitting white with pure energy. The goblin’s feet were picked up from under him while he tried to find his footing again. Destin rose his hand higher into the air, the goblin continuing to rise. “What is this!” He exclaimed in shock.

The goblin was thrown back against the wall with Destin thrusting his hand forward the force knocking the wind out of the vile creature. He stepped closer to the pinned goblin, “Vertrock will fall, and you along with the other vile excuse for creatures will never see the light of day again!”

Destin raised his hand as an orb of light encased the knife that was going to be used on him instead hovered over to them resting over the Goblin’s heart. He watch glaring at the goblin in full control of its final moments, “I am a High Borne, one of the last in this world, and I will not be silenced by something as insignificant as a goblin. You have taken your last life.”

The goblin was petrified, Destin assumed in his lifetime he had never seen a High Borne to his knowledge, let alone even assumed magic was real. Still, in its final moments he cracked a smile and looking Destin in the eyes spat in his face, “You may be a High Borne but you will nev…” Instantly he was cut off, the knife penetrated his heart. His head drooped over as he collapsed on the ground.

Destin followed in exhaustion for the exertion he displayed. He had done it. He was free from the likes of that creature, but the battle ahead was far more dangerous. Goddar did state he was horrendously terrible with his stealth but at this point it would need to be his main ally.

He continued to heal his body without draining too much energy. Destin took the time to blockade the door best he could with the table. He armed himself with the best suited dagger he could find. The light flowed through his body as each cut and finger nail grew back into its proper state. “What to do? What to do?” He gazed around the room observing all possible outcomes spotting a window.

He rushed over to the window looking out only to observe no perch to even climb on. He was far above any roof, and hundreds of feet up in the air. Any jump would certainly be his last. His mouth dropped when he looked at the mountain. “What the?” he spurted out seeing the mountainside crumbed the mine entrances destroyed and smoking, forever covered by large boulders. Was that the earthquake he felt?

He down into the field where the tent were seeing hundreds upon hundreds of men rushing and fleeing for their lives. What type of calamity had he missed while in the fortress? Orcs hunted each man slicing through them with their swords. An bloody massacre.

A sudden explosion sounded from the other side of the doorway. Unsure what the cause was he prepared himself for the worse drawing his knife out. He closed his eyes, beginning to breathe slowly and rhythmically. The only scenario that seemed practical enough for survival at this point was fighting the orcs out of the fortress. He would need to open the double doors in front of him, and face whatever caused the explosion. He opened his eyes the light revealing his source of power, raising his hand in the air, multiple knives began to gleam with a white light surrounding them as they rose into the air above Destin.

He had to watch himself with the strain magic carried. A budge on the door was heard and when it didn’t immediately open a more aggressive hit followed. Anticipating the breaching of the door he braced himself for the worst. Assuming three or four orcs max. The door again was slammed, then again as the table slid slightly cracking under the pressure. Suddenly a distinct knock was heard at the door. Destin was completely caught off guard by the unexpected gesture.

A budge on the door was heard, when it didn’t immediately open a more aggressive hit followed. An inhumain scream rang out and was instantly silenced. A few moments passed until a distinct knock was heard at the door. Destin was perplexed by the unexpected gesture. He continued to hold his ground waiting.

The door discentigrated instantly as dust created a cloud in the doorway. Destin thrusted his hand forward as a knife flew into the dust from his command. “Wait!” a familiar voice pleaded.

Immediately his voice was recognized, Destin pulled back the knives, collapsing them to the ground and returning to normal. The dust dissipated as Goddar stood trembling the hilt of his hammer receiving the blow of the knife fully penetrating almost taking out his eye on the other side. He opened one eye observing the blade next to his face. “Oye, Gods be praised that you are a weak lil’ Highborn! You can’t even properly kill me!”

Destin couldn’t believe his eyes seeing Goddar standing there though he had seen better days from the looks of it. He felt as though Goddar was apart of a great battle, seeing how bruised and battered he was, the clear number of cuts populating his skin. “What happened to you?”

“In short?” He stepped behind the doorway and reaching to the side pulled around the slain orc. “It was hard fought, but a promise is a promise and I’m here!” Goddar looked to his right to see the goblin face down on the ground, “Though I’ll admit lad, it looks like you don’t even need me to help you escape.” He let out a hearty laugh.

“You’re serious?”

Destin could tell Goddar was annoyed that he questioned him, “Yes! I’d rather not say how many may be dead or dying but that's not the point. We’ve got a front gate to open and we don't have much time to be sitting pretty!”

Destin was ashamed at the assumption he had of not trusting Goddar from the moment he was dragged away. He firmly gripped the dagger in his hand with the anger encircling him. In the end, he slowly cracked a smile with a quiet laugh while he lifted his head to look at the dwarf, “But why did you come out of your way to save me Goddar? You had a much better chance of survival without risking to save me.”

“Lad, you don’t get it. A promise is a promise and I’d be damned by the Gods themselves if I didn’t keep my part. You have a destiny much larger than any prison camp can provide and it's time for you to prove it!”