Chapter 5: The City of Grunthree

"Apples! Get some fresh apples!" An orc street vendor screamed in the street. The once bustling and joyful street had now fallen silent, devoid of the laughter and business that once defined it.

Not a soul on the now desolate street turned their head toward the fruit vendor. This was a common occurrence, but no vendor dared risk not being able to feed their families. The rising incidents of theft and hunger-related deaths plagued the city.

"I'll take one," said a man in a standard guard uniform, carrying a sword and a smug smile. The vendor sensed trouble.

"Give me 20 of the red ones and 30 of the green," the guard demanded.

"But that's my entire stock of apples, sir," the vendor nervously protested.

"Yeah? I don't remember asking ya! Haha!" The guard laughed callously.

"We already endure your exorbitant taxes; we don't need you taking our supplies without paying!" The vendor, summoning courage, retorted.

Enraged, the guard approached the vendor, grabbing him by the shirt. "How dare you speak up like that when you know the punishment for such a crime! Unacceptable!" The guard drew his sword, repeatedly striking the vendor with a wicked smile and rabid laughter.

"Father!" A young orc boy cried, dropping a bag of oranges and running toward the guard. Witnesses dropped to their knees, fighting over oranges. Some began stealing the vendor's remaining goods.

The guard dropped the lifeless vendor and observed as the boy cried on his knees. "Take this as a lesson for disobedience! Your king Azuk bestowed mercy, allowing you to live under the watch of our great Bruger. Obey, or all will be judged for the mistakes of one another!" The guard shouted, then callously walked away with the stolen apples.

The boy, in tears, watched as his father's lifeless body lay there, and everything for sale was stolen. "Why?" he thought, but there was no answer in the harsh reality of the world he lived in. Suddenly, he was trampled by a horde of people rushing to steal the remaining goods.

—

In the dawn chill, a neatly groomed Takagi rose early after the battle with the dark imp. He picked up a small wooden plank with "300" carved on it, signaling the day, and crossed out the previous "299." After dressing, he woke Hanz, who slept in a separate tent. Both had agreed to the early wake-up. They left the tent quietly, navigating through the thick morning fog to exit the small village.

"You look much better without that messy hair," Hanz commented.

"Shhh, someone will hear us!" Takagi whispered back.

The mist provided perfect cover, but the morning silence was so profound that even a snapped branch could wake a heavy sleeper. All but a few orcs slept at night, and those who didn't maintained a night watch. Fortunately, at that hour, the night watch took a nap.

"They must be sleeping on the job, or they would've heard your big mouth!" Takagi joked to Hanz.

As the orcs slept, one remained vigilant. Shelur, the chief's daughter, observed them passing through the mist toward the city of Grunthree. Unaccustomed to sleeping on the job, she found their sneaking odd. Realizing their destination, panic set in, and she sheathed her bow and raised her hood. Watching them from a tree, she muttered, "Those idiots, what do they think they're doing?"

Despite Takagi's keen senses, dulled by drowsiness, he could have detected Shelur trailing them. However, his exhaustion hindered his awareness.

The walk to Grunthree from the forest was brief, taking an hour or two. Shelur, a skilled warrior taught by her chief father, knew the importance of observing and collecting information about a foe. In this moment, she recognized Takagi's sharp hearing, evidenced by the fresh wound on her left shoulder.

"More walking," Hanz exclaimed, followed by a gasp.

"Hanz, if we're entering enemy territory, we need a plan."

"What… I thought you already had a plan!"

"Not necessarily… but I have an idea."

"Okay, what did you have in mind?"

"We go in and kick his ass."

"WHAT! That's your idea!?" Hanz replied in disbelief.

"You know, obviously, we gather intelligence—find out where he is and what he does daily."

"You're going to get us killed, Takagi," Hanz gasped.

"Don't worry; I'm just joking. We need to be fully prepared before kicking anybody's ass," Takagi stated, laughing.

"Wow, so this is what the outside of the forest looks like! I nearly forgot what a plain looks like," Takagi exclaimed in awe.

Upon reaching the forest's edge, steps away from leaving the thick and bountiful forest, they faced the possibility of never returning. Before gazing further outside, Takagi smiled at his 'starter zone,' as he called it, and turned around. The edge was evident, trees forming a visible separation between the forest and the plains. In the distance, the small city of Grunthree awaited, but first, they had to traverse a couple of kilometers of farmland.

Entering the city gates proved easy; the walls were run down, and minimal guards were on duty, still asleep. Takagi and Hanz slipped through a destroyed wall. Both wore clothing gifted by the chief, but Takagi had a turban to conceal his horns.

"Something happened to this place. It didn't used to look like this," Hanz remarked, observing the rundown city.

Awake and wandering, the city's people lacked life and smiles. As Takagi and Hanz walked through a street, people stared and then looked away, devoid of the expected social exchanges.

"This place is... sad," Takagi said.

"This used to be a place I loved visiting because of the friendly people. Now its... its friendliness has been stolen," Hanz said, reminiscing about his home and clenching his staff harder.

"You know, I thought the first town I would visit would've been much more lively than this. Something a little more like the video games I played," Takagi mused.

"Are you okay?" Hanz spoke from behind Takagi.

Turning around, Takagi saw Hanz addressing a small, skinny orc boy, several years younger than Hanz. The boy lay on the floor, covered by an old potato sack, looking dirty and emitting a horrid smell. Reacting slowly, the boy opened and closed his eyes lazily. Hanz rummaged through his pouch, pushing aside items from the small village within the forest, and pulled out a decent chunk of bread. He extended his arm towards the boy.

"Here, you look like you need this more than I do," Hanz said with a smile.

Takagi knew Hanz was being generous outwardly, but internally, he burned with rage. The boy perhaps showed Hanz what he could have been if he never met Takagi.

"Th… thanks," the boy said quietly, then swiftly took the bread and scarfed it down. After finishing, he raised a knife, daring anyone to come and take his food. When he put the knife down, he grabbed his throat, signaling he was choking. Hanz quickly provided water, and the boy chugged it, looking both ways before putting the knife down.

"You shouldn't have to be eating your food that fast, kid," Takagi said, squatting down in front of the boy.

"It's my food!" he brashly replied.

"What's the matter with this ungrateful brat?" hissed Takagi.

Takagi lightly grabbed the boy's head, causing mild pain, lifting him out of his makeshift blanket and staring at him annoyed. The boy began swinging his small knife violently, eyes closed, and screaming a child's battle cry.

"Um, just let him go, Takagi," Hanz nervously said.

"Yeah, it's just he doesn't have manners. Didn't anyone ever teach you proper manners!" Takagi shouted at the boy.