Grodak
Grodak stood alone inside the empty tower that had once belonged to Grall. The silence pressed against him like a weight. For the first time since banishing his brother, doubt gnawed at the back of his mind.
Was I too hasty?
It was far too late to change anything, yet the thought lingered—unwanted, persistent.
Imp appeared beside him in a sudden puff of displaced air, looking agitated.
"Grodak," Imp said quickly, "where is Grall?"
Grodak exhaled sharply. He had enough burdens already—he did not need Imp dragging Grall back into his thoughts.
"I'm not his keeper," Grodak growled. "Why would I know where he is?"
Imp stepped back. He had seen Grodak angry before, but this was different—colder, sharper, close to lethal. Still, he pressed on.
"I need to speak with him. He took something from my tower last time he was there—something dangerous—and I must retrieve it before it ends up in the wrong hands."
Grodak's jaw clenched. No matter where he went or who he spoke to, Grall's shadow followed.
"I do not know where he is," Grodak said, venom thick in his voice. "But he is not in Whitewater. Nor will he ever be again."
Imp flinched at the words. It felt like a blade was being held against his throat. But he continued.
"What happened between you two?"
Grodak finally let out a long, exhausted sigh—one that had been building since the day he left Xierma behind in the fog. He motioned for Imp to sit.
"Imp. Sit. I will tell you what happened… over tea."
---
Grall — The Shadow World
Grall lay on the cold black stone of the Shadow World, his chest rising and falling with ragged breaths. In the material world, perhaps a day had passed. But here? Centuries—maybe longer. Time stretched endlessly, all of it used to sharpen his body and soul under the merciless tutelage of Wreag.
Wreag—the mightiest orc to ever exist. The orc who once fought hundreds of casarns alone and lived. If there was anyone who could forge Grall into something stronger than himself, it was Wreag.
"Is that all you've got, Grall?" Wreag bellowed. The other orcs surrounding Grall stepped back at the sound. "All these years—yet you've barely improved. Do you want strength, or do you want to die forgotten on a battlefield while your brother takes all the glory?"
Hatred flickered in Grall's black-shadowed eyes. He pushed himself off the ground until he hovered in the front-leaning-rest position.
"I'm not giving up," Grall hissed. Every muscle screamed, and thanks to Wreag's orders, the Shadow World no longer mended his wounds. "I will never quit."
Wreag's lips twitched. "Good. Continue."
Hours later, Grall lay bruised and broken, clutching a black orb against his chest. His mind drifted back to the mission that had led him to steal it.
---
Flashback — Milindar's Hideout
It was the morning after the orcs had reached Whitewater, the same day Grodak departed to seek the stone archway. Grall's spies reported that they had found Milindar's hidden base. Not wanting to burden Grodak—who needed to walk his own path—Grall contacted Imp.
"I need your help infiltrating Milindar's hideout," Grall said through the stone.
Imp teleported into Grall's tower immediately. "Why?"
"To kill him," Grall answered bluntly. "And prevent war."
"But what if he seeks peace?" Imp asked. "What if something controlled him?"
Grall grew irritated. "He destroyed Whitewater. He allied with necromancers. He killed Tyril."
"All true," Imp said, "but what if he wasn't acting of his own free will?"
"Then eliminating him removes a puppet and a threat."
Imp fell silent for a moment, then nodded. "I'll go with you. You infiltrate. I'll speak with him."
"So you're going to talk to the enemy?"
"Is he the enemy," Imp countered, "or just a pawn?"
Grall refused to argue further. "Fine. But if he's a threat... I will kill him."
A magic circle flared beneath them. A heartbeat later, they stood before a towering fortress, dark clouds suffocating the sky.
Imp vanished to speak with Milindar. Grall slipped inside, placing a void bomb on a support pillar. It would erase the entire structure—and Milindar with it.
"What are you doing?" Imp's voice came from behind him.
"You think he has good in him," Grall said, not turning. "I don't. This ends threats before they grow worse."
The bomb had already activated—unstoppable.
Imp exhaled. "I knew you'd do this. So I told Milindar to leave."
Grall spun on him. "You what? You warned the enemy—traitor!"
"Correction," Imp said as he tapped his staff. "I warned him of your plan."
The world distorted—and they were back in Imp's tower. Before Grall could move, another tap sent him hurtling to Whitewater. But in that last moment, Grall's eyes had caught something on the desk—
A black orb. A god orb.
The instant he arrived home, Grall called out: "Fluffles!"
The soft footsteps answered.
"There is a black orb in Imp's tower. Retrieve it."
A content purr confirmed the order.
---
Back in the Shadow World
Wreag's roar jarred Grall back to the present.
"Are you done resting? Up! We continue."
Grall forced himself to stand. The pain had dulled, but the fire in him had not.
He trained.
---
Battle — Milindar's Death
"Sounds good to me," Grodak said, sword raised.
Milindar and Grodak stared each other down. The war around them faded. Nothing mattered except this moment.
Milindar moved first—two thunderous steps and a downward strike. Grodak surged forward.
A single cry.
A spray of blood.
A body collapsing.
Grodak stood over Milindar's impaled corpse, a fresh wound across his own chest. He raised his head to the sky and roared—a victory that shook the battlefield.
The orcs answered with roars of their own, pushing the undead lines back.
---
Grall & Adrian vs. Death
Grall knelt beside Adrian, both struggling for breath.
"Are you done?" the God of Death asked, voice cold as winter stone.
They had tried everything—every tactic, every strike—but none had touched him.
Grall leaned close. "Adrian… I'll take him to the Shadow World. Once—"
In an instant, the God stood before them, lifting both by the throat.
"Take me to another realm?" he chuckled. "We can't have that."
Their vision blurred—and shifted. The God dropped them.
Grall blinked. Something felt horribly wrong. His body—smaller, weaker—and his vision was different. Adrian stared at him in shock.
Their bodies had been switched.
"You should feel the Shadow World calling to you," Grall said urgently. "Use it. Send him there."
Adrian searched for the connection. Grall raised Adrian's sword to defend him.
A scream tore the air.
Grall turned—
Adrian's legs were gone. Severed cleanly.
"What did you do?!" Grall roared.
He tried to shadow step—but collapsed. His legs were gone too, cut to the pelvis.
The God laughed. "I didn't do anything. You did. Your little 'connection' works both ways."
Grall dragged himself to Adrian's side.
"I'll let one of you live," the God said cheerfully. "The other goes to the void. No spirit realm. Just oblivion."
Grall turned to Adrian—his first, his only friend.
"Adrian…" Grall smiled through tears. "Kill me."
"What? No!"
"This is what I want. To see my wife again."
He wrapped Adrian's fingers around Oathkeeper.
A final smile.
Then he rammed the blade through his own throat.
---
Adrian
No. Not again.
Adrian found himself back in his own body—holding Oathkeeper—staring down at Grall's lifeless form.
He screamed. Tears streamed down his face.
He charged the God. His blade struck harmlessly. A gesture sent him flying. Again he charged. Again he was thrown. His sword shattered.
He fell to his knees—broken.
A hand grabbed his shoulder.
A familiar voice called out.
Adrian raised his eyes.
---
Grodak Arrives
After the battle, Grodak clasped hands with the leader of the Shadow Elders.
"I am Grodak, chieftain of the United Orc Tribes, king of Whitewater."
The elder's presence radiated ancient power.
"I am Wreag. Talengar's chosen… your brother needs you."
Wreag vanished.
Grodak quickly used Imp's stone.
"Find Grall. Now."
Seconds later—darkness.
He saw Adrian kneeling, unresponsive. Grodak placed a hand on his shoulder—nothing. Adrian only stared ahead.
Grodak followed his gaze.
Grall's corpse lay impaled on Adrian's sword.
Before Grodak could speak, a chilling laugh echoed.
"The big brother arrives too late," the voice taunted. "Beautiful."
Grodak unsheathed his blade, searching. His senses swirled.
"Show yourself!"
"Oh? You want to fight what you cannot even perceive?"
A hand touched his shoulder.
Grodak spun—
Grall stood before him.
But not Grall as he had been.
A shadow of him.
---
Grall — The Edge of the Void
Grall fell endlessly into darkness. He knew he should resist—but he wanted to surrender. One word lingered on his lips.
Then—
"Grall," sang a voice like music. "Open your eyes, my love."
Leah stood before him—radiant, gentle.
"Leah?" he whispered. "Is it truly you?"
"Yes, my love," she said, embracing him. "But this is not your time. This is the edge of the void—the place of reincarnation."
Grall tightened his hold. "I chose death to be with you."
"And I choose to send you back," she whispered. "You still belong with the living."
Grall smiled softly. She was right.
He belonged with his people.
---
Shadow Grall
"Don't worry, brother," boomed a voice. "We've got this."
Shadow Grall stepped forward—an army of Shadow Elders behind him.
"No…" the God's voice trembled. "Impossible. How did you get here?"
Shadow Grall lifted a golden rune-carved trinket.
"Not even death keeps me from a good fight."
The Shadow Elders charged. Shadow Grall extended his hand—Oathkeeper materializing within it. One clean strike ended the God instantly.
Grall turned to Grodak and Adrian.
He smiled.
He knew he would be happy where he was now.
Grodak
Grodak stood amidst the settling dust of battle with his sword raised, staring down Milindar. The chaos around them faded until only the two remained in Grodak's world—predator and prey, each waiting for the other to make the fatal mistake.
Milindar moved first.
He lunged forward with two thunderous steps, his blade carving a brutal downward arc. Grodak slipped inside the swing and drove his sword upward.
There was a spray of blood.
A strangled cry.
A body collapsing.
Grodak, chest newly opened by a shallow cut, stood over Milindar's impaled corpse. He lifted his head to the heavens and unleashed a triumphant roar that shook the battlefield.
His army answered with a dozen roars of their own, pushing the undead back with renewed fury.
---
Grall
Grall knelt beside Adrian, both gasping for breath. Across from them, the God of Death stood untouched, calm, almost bored.
"Are you done?" he asked, voice cold and perfectly controlled.
They had tried everything—synchronized strikes, feints, pincer attacks, even assaults from above and below using Grall's shadows—but they hadn't forced the god to move a single step.
Grall leaned in close, whispering, "Adrian… I'm going to take him into the Shadow World and once—"
But he never finished.
The god appeared in front of them in an instant, his hands gripping their throats like they weighed nothing.
"Take me into another realm?" he said with a low laugh. "We can't have that."
Grall's vision blurred. A moment later he found himself on the ground—only something was wrong. The world looked different. He felt different.
He turned toward Adrian… and froze.
He was looking at his own face.
The God of Death had switched their bodies.
Grall forced himself upright, legs trembling under Adrian's unfamiliar weight and human weakness. "Listen," he said quickly. "You should feel a pull—a connection to every plane. That's the Shadow World. Use it to send him there."
Adrian nodded shakily and focused.
Grall stepped forward, ready to defend him—
A scream cut the air.
Grall turned just in time to see Adrian—now in Grall's body—collapse as both legs vanished, severed by unseen force.
Grall spun toward the God of Death, rage blinding him.
"What did you do to him?!"
He tried to Shadow Step—fifteen feet in an instant—but agony exploded through him. His legs were gone too. Up to the pelvis.
The god laughed—a chilling, delighted sound.
"I didn't do anything," he said. "You did this to yourselves."
Grall dragged himself across the ground toward Adrian, refusing to let the god see him break.
The god's voice cooed from above.
"Let's play a game. One of you may live. The other goes to the void. No afterlife. No Shadow World. No rebirth."
A pause.
"Kill each other for my entertainment."
Grall looked at Adrian—his closest friend, his brother in all but blood—and made his choice.
"Adrian," he whispered with a trembling smile, "kill me."
"What? No—no, I'm not doing that!"
"I want this," Grall insisted, tears streaking his stolen face. "I want to see my wife again. This is my choice."
He guided Adrian's hand—his own hand holding Oathkeeper—to his throat.
"Brother," Grall whispered, smiling through his tears, "thank you."
He drove the blade through his own neck.
---
Adrian
Adrian's world shattered.
He found himself abruptly back in his own body, staring helplessly at Grall's corpse—impaled by Oathkeeper, his blood pooling around him. The sound that tore from Adrian's throat was neither word nor scream, but something deeper—pure grief.
"You monster," Adrian snarled as he charged the god. "You took my brother from me!"
His blade struck the god's head—and shattered. The god flicked a wrist and sent Adrian tumbling like a ragdoll.
Adrian rose again, trembling, exhausted, anguished. He took a step—fell to one knee—yet still he crawled forward.
A strong hand gripped his shoulder. A voice tried to speak.
Adrian couldn't hear.
He couldn't see anything except Grall's body.
---
Grodak
The undead fell quickly after Milindar's death. The Shadow Elders and Imp's tower arrived just in time to sweep the remnants away. When it was done, Grodak approached the leader of the Shadow Elders and extended his hand.
"I am Grodak," he declared. "Chieftain of the United Orc Tribes. King of Whitewater."
The elder took his hand. His voice rumbled like it vibrated through the stones themselves.
"I am Wreag. It is an honor, Talengar's Chosen."
Grodak's eyes widened. The Wreag—the greatest orc in every childhood story he and Grall ever listened to—stood before him.
But Wreag's form was already fading.
"You should not linger," he warned. "Your brother needs your help."
He vanished.
Grodak wasted no time. He pulled out the stone Imp had given him.
"Imp—track Grall. Now."
"As long as he's not in the Shadow World—I can. Give me a minute."
"Hurry!"
Moments later Grodak appeared in a pitch-black realm. Adrian knelt before him, shattered, unreachable. Grodak knelt, speaking gently, but Adrian didn't react. His gaze was fixed forward—unmoving.
Grodak followed it—and froze.
Grall's lifeless body lay on the ground.
Before Grodak could speak, a voice echoed through the darkness, drenched in cruel delight.
"Isn't it beautiful? The older brother rushes in to save the younger… but arrives far too late."
Grodak roared and raised his sword, but every direction was empty. His senses twisted. Nothing made sense.
"SHOW YOURSELF!" he bellowed.
A hand gripped his shoulder.
Grodak spun—only to find Grall standing there.
But not Grall.
A twisted, shadowed reflection of him, made from grief and death and something older.
---
Grall
Grall fell endlessly through blackness. For the first time, he didn't fight it. He wanted the void to take him. To end everything.
Then—
"Grall."
A voice like a warm song.
"Open your eyes, my love."
He opened them.
And Leah stood before him.
His wife. His heart.
As beautiful as the day he lost her.
"Leah…" His voice broke as he reached out, touching her cheek with a trembling hand. Tears poured freely as he embraced her. "Is it really you?"
"Yes," she whispered, stroking his back. "But you cannot stay."
"I chose death to be with you," Grall whispered desperately. "I don't care what comes next."
She gently pulled away, looking into his eyes with heartbreaking tenderness.
"My love… this is the edge of the void. Where souls pass on to be reborn. You do not belong here yet."
Grall closed his eyes, inhaled slowly, then embraced her once more.
He knew she was right.
He had to go back.
His people still needed him.
---
A surge of shadow ripped across the dark battlefield.
Shadow Grall stepped forward, releasing Grodak's shoulder. Behind him, the entire Shadow World followed—thousands of orc spirits, the eldritch forces Grall had forged, and the elders themselves.
The god's laughter vanished—replaced by fear.
"No… no, this is impossible! HOW did you get here?!"
Shadow Grall lifted a golden trinket inscribed with runes—the key.
"Not even death can keep me from this party."
He raised his hand.
Oathkeeper materialized.
With a single sweeping strike, Shadow Grall cut through the God of Death, ending him instantly.
He turned to Grodak and Adrian, smiling warmly.
He had chosen his place.
And he was finally at peace.