The Forgotten Chieftain's Wife Prologue
"What do you think this stranger has come for," voiced Durotan, turning towards his friend riding on his wolf.
Shrugging, Orgrim Doomhammer said "I don't know."
Thoughtful, Durotan mused "Well for this strange orc to travel so far north under a parley to speak to the Frostwolf Clan it must be important."
Durotan was a huge orc with brown skin, two yellowed tusks jutting upwards from his lower jaw. Well muscled which was the result of strict training he experienced over the course of his life. Two thick braids hung down on either side of his ears the remaining black length braided or flowing freely. His ears were pointed, pierced wearing jewelry of bones and beads. His eyes were clear and brown. At the moment they were filled with intrigue.
Durotan, his father the clan Chieftain, Garad, his mother the Lorekeeper Geyah, Orgrim Doomhammer, and other selected members of the Frostwolves had been out hunting when a rider found them. He'd carried urgent news that a mysterious orc had arrived to speak to the Frostwolves under a parley. The very mention of a parley was already interesting enough for how rare an occurrence it was. The fact this stranger had not one, but two slaves in his company. Also, he along with one of his slaves was green instead of brown like all orcs.
Durotan was eager to return to the village to satisfy the growing curiosity with his own eyes wanting answers to the lingering questions in his mind.
The hunting party returned to Frostfire Ridge their ancestral home. Most of the clan was gathered in its heart exactly where they headed. At its base was a chair known as the Stone Seat. A spot reserved of great honor for every leader originating from this particular clan for generations.
Dusk had fallen when the group finally reached the village. A roaring fire blazed in the communal pit with each member of the tribe surrounding it. Following the sight of them the crowd parted immediately allowing them to see the one that had come creating such unease under a parley.
And he was sitting in the Stone Seat.
In the flickering light of the fire Durotan saw the stranger, and one of the two females on either side of him was crouched carrying a heavy metal about her throat, was indeed the color of moss as the rider had described. She looked like an orc, but, at the same time, was not.
The male was hunched in his cloak and clothing his beard grey. The newcomer leaned on a staff adorned with bone and skulls similar to the ones attached on his cloak. Symbols had been carved on it ones repeated around the opening to the stranger's cowl. His eyes gleamed with a glowing green luminescence of their own.
While these two were unique they weren't what actually caught Durotan's interest. Unlike the first female who carried obvious traces to being an orc the second held absolutely none whatsoever.
Similar to her counterpart she wore a huge binding piece of metal around her neck making sure she was unable to flee. Adding to the weight the connecting chain hanging appeared extremely heavy. But despite it all the slave sat, kneeling regal and straight refusing to be cowed. Her spine was erect, her demeanor calm. She might be in chains, but she's far from being tamed nor broken. Cuts and bruises covered the majority of her skin showing the treatment laid upon her both old and new by this orc and probably many others hands. Leaving numerous scars that would never fade away. She was lean, skinny, and bony looking like she hadn't had a decent meal in many moons. She was bleeding here and there with nasty, festering sores on her skin where the manacles had rubbed. What was considered clothing among orc kind was stained and torn. Speaking of skin it wasn't like anything he'd ever seen before in his life. It was as white as snow. Her long hair, black as the darkest of nights deep in winter, was tangled and dirt smeared her body.
If it weren't for her outward appearance Durotan would be fooled into believing she wasn't a slave at all.
Her head bent forward the long strands of her hair falling around her face Durotan failed to get a clear glimpse. That all changed in an instant.
As if she could sense his attention the slave raised her head their eyes connecting immediately.
Usually the eyes belonging to a slave resembled dull nearly dead of all signs of life accepting their fate. Hers were nothing of the sort.
The most striking crystal blue he'd set eyes on Durotan saw nothing but fierceness he didn't expect to find. He thought he spotted a touch apprehension and fear in her gaze only to have it completely overshadowed by the pure defiance and pride radiating at him.
In this very moment nothing was ever going to be the same ever again after this single meeting. Everything he knew is about to change forevermore.
Authors Note: So…how am I doing so far? ;)