Founder

In the heart of a forest near a small human settlement, beneath the gentle glow of the moonlight, Naiara found her solace, seated upon the earth with only the rustling of leaves as her company. Where shadows danced with the whispering leaves, an orc stumbled upon a mysterious figure, a human female. 

With her eyes shut and her feet elegantly crossed, Naiara exuded an aura of serenity, as though she were communing with the very essence of the forest itself. 

Bathed in the moon's soft glow, her presence commanding yet enigmatic. At that moment, the orc's primal instincts urged him to satisfy his hunger, yet a newfound sense of rationality restrained his movements, compelling him to pause and contemplate his actions. The orc, after a moment of careful consideration, came to a stark realization: what he initially perceived as prey was, in fact, a predator cleverly disguised as such. Aware of the imminent danger, he understood that any attempt to attack would result in his swift demise. The orc realized that there was more to the world than just survival.

Having come to this realization, the orc wisely chose to abandon the idea of preying on what he had initially mistaken for easy quarry. Instead, he resolved to seek sustenance elsewhere, knowing that survival often required discernment and strategic decision-making.

Just as the orc chief was preparing to depart, a sudden voice pierced the silence of the forest. "Leaving orc chief?" startled, he turned to see the young girl, With a single eye now open, "oh my, where is all that bloodlust from a moment ago?" she addressed him directly, her voice carrying an otherworldly weight that froze him in his tracks.

"Don't be shy, come closer to me," Naiara beckoned to him with an air of calm authority.

The orc primal instincts urged him to approach the young girl cautiously, wary of her human lineage. Yet, to his surprise, she showed no signs of hostility. Instead, her demeanor exuded a sense of calmness and acceptance, as if she could sense the essence of his being beyond his monstrous exterior.

With a cautious step forward, the orc hesitated.

Naiara marveled, "Oh my, despite being a sentient species, it seems you understand the human tongue, even in this early state, orc chief."

The orc couldn't help but feel enthralled by the young human female. He was drawn to her like a magnet. She was captivating, with long golden hair and blue pupils that shimmered in the darkness.

As he fell in admiration for the human female, with each step he drew himself closer to her. Soon, he was so close that he could feel the roaring presence she exuded.

"Kneel," Naiara commanded, her voice carrying authority. As the orc fell thunderously to its knees, he felt a strange mix of awe and fear coursing through him.

"Good boy," Naiara said with a hint of amusement, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

"I am from a land far from now, from a future that is both certain and uncertain," she said to the orc. "Do you want to hear my story, child?"

The orc, frightened, nodded his head to affirm his desire to hear her story.

"Good!" She exclaimed.

The orc drew a deep breath, his senses alert to every word uttered in the human tongue. While he couldn't articulate his thoughts in their language, he remained keenly attentive, knowing that the ability to speak the human tongue was a rare gift bestowed upon only the most advanced creatures, such as the revered dryads, elves, and dwarves. Even among the dragonoids, mastering this skill took centuries, a testament to its rarity and significance in the world.

Despite his inability to speak the human tongue, the orc remained attentive, eager to understand Naiara's story through her gestures and expressions.

"In the vast expanse of time, past, present, and future are threads woven intricately together, each influencing the other in ways both profound and subtle. Our actions in the past reverberate through time, shaping the course of events to come. But therein lies a dilemma—a mistake, if you will. In my era, your master and I erred gravely, setting in motion events that led to calamity. And now, as I stand before you, I realize the futility of undoing what has been done. We cannot repair the fracture in time's tapestry, no matter how desperately we may wish it so. Yet, despite this grim truth, I hold onto a glimmer of hope—a hope that by guiding the past, we may yet chart a different course, one that steers clear of the impending disaster. But even if we succeed in altering the past, we cannot erase the scars of the future. They will remain, a reminder of the choices we made and the consequences they wrought." Naiara's words carried the weight of eons, a testament to the complexities of time and the burden of knowledge.

"When the time comes, I'll come back to see you again, my big friend," she said to the orc as she slowly began to fade away into golden dust carried away by the wind.

"So you are awake, feeble one," Naiara said to the orc chief, her voice carrying a tone of condescension and superiority.

The orc chief's eyes widened as he recognized Naiara's voice echoing through the now illuminated void. With a mix of surprise and defiance, he responded, "Feeble? You dare to address me with such disrespect, Naiara?"

His words hung heavy in the air, challenging her authority even in this mysterious realm.

"You know my name?" Naiara asked him, surprised.

The orc chief nodded solemnly. "Your name echoes through the winds of fate, Naiara. It's a name whispered in hushed tones, carrying tales of power and destiny."

"Who told you that?" Naiara asked him, her curiosity piqued.

The orc chief hesitated before responding, "It was you my lady,"

Naiara fell to the floor squirming, overcome by a strange sensation. "That does sound like something I would say," she thought, her mind reeling with the implications of the orc chief's words.

The orc chief found himself in a room that seemed plucked from the pages of a fantasy tale. Elaborate carvings adorned the walls, depicting mythical creatures in fierce battles against valiant warriors. Each stroke of the artist's chisel told a story of heroism and sacrifice, bringing the legends of old to life within the confines of the chamber.

Sunlight filtered through the canopy outside, casting a warm, golden glow over the polished wooden floor. The air was infused with the scent of pine and earth, carrying whispers of adventure and mystery. The room itself seemed to pulse with an ancient energy, as if it held the secrets of the forest within its very walls.

Through the window, the orc chief glimpsed the sprawling expanse of the forest below, a vast sea of green stretching as far as the eye could see. Tall trees swayed gently in the breeze, their leaves rustling like a symphony of whispers. It was as if he had been transported to a hidden sanctuary nestled among the branches, a place where the boundaries between reality and legend blurred and time stood still.

As he took in the sights and sounds of his surroundings, the orc chief couldn't help but feel a sense of wonder and awe. Here, in this magical haven, he felt a connection to something greater than himself—a connection to the ancient spirits of the forest and the stories of old that echoed through its halls. And in that moment, he knew that he was part of something truly extraordinary, just like naiara had foretold.

Intrigued by his newfound insights, the orc chief's gaze pierced through the room's shadows, his eyes ablaze with determination. "Where can I find your leader?" he demanded of Naiara, his voice resonating with a newfound sense of purpose.

Naiara regarded the orc chief with a measured expression, her eyes betraying a hint of curiosity at his sudden request. "The leader is not available at the moment," she replied, her voice calm yet tinged with a note of caution. "But I can convey your message to him. What is it that you seek?"

The orc chief hesitated for a moment, his mind racing as he weighed his options. "Tell him that I wish to discuss matters of great importance," he finally said, choosing his words carefully. "Matters that concern the fate of our people and the future of this land."

Naiara nodded solemnly, her gaze unwavering. "I will relay your message to the leader," she promised. "But be warned, he is not easily swayed by outsiders. You will need to present a compelling argument if you wish to gain his audience."

With that, she turned to leave the room, her footsteps echoing softly against the wooden floor. The orc chief watched her go, his thoughts swirling with uncertainty and determination. Whatever lay ahead, he knew that he must seize this opportunity to make his voice heard—to shape the course of events and forge a path towards a better future for his people, knowing that if naiara was around the image of ragard's severed head must have all been a construct of his mind.