Orras looked at the digital monitor in his office with a strange mixture of pride and horror. It was hard to say which he felt stronger. On one hand, he could hardly argue with the results. Deadbone had delivered an attack the highborn could not ignore, and the weapons with the specially made bullets Orras provided had done their job beautifully. 

Orras looked at the large digital monitor in his office with a strange mixture of pride and horror. It was hard to say which one he felt stronger. On one hand, he could hardly argue with the results. Deadbone had delivered an attack the highborn could not ignore, and the weapons with the specially made bullets Orras provided had done their job beautifully. 

And yet, seeing the destruction and death of so many, even if they were the cursed royal knights, weighed on him more than he expected. He had killed before many times, most often for territory and to protect what was his, but this felt different.

“Things went well,” said Mr. Tol, his voice echoing inside the cave walls. 

“It’s certainly a start,” conceded Deadbone, standing by his side as they watched the same thing on the largest rock wall, projected by one of Tol’s flying contraptions. 

They were all at one of Orras’ secret offices, a small hollowed-out cave deep within the mountains. As an exile, he no longer had access to his former clan’s holdings, but his family had many spots no one knew about. They had dug them during the war and used them when needed to conceal things from the other families. They had now become Orras’ main storage areas for his new weapons, filled with wooden crates full of his signature guns and bullets.

Orras was still unnerved by Deadbone knowing about them, and showing up unannounced during his attack to oversee things from here. Whenever those big green eyes lingered on him too long, it felt as if he could see into his very soul and knew how wretched it was. Not that he could boast to be any better, after all, this whole enterprise was his idea.

“It’s a shame about Taniwha though,” said Tol.

“Not at all, she got what she wanted in the end. I had expected her to cause a bit more destruction first, but I think they got the message.” 

“And what message was that?” asked Orras, angrier than he meant to sound.

Deadbone turned around to face him, his face seemingly devoid of emotion. “That we exist. That we will not stand for things as they are.”

“You’re expecting them to react with fear, but what if they retaliate with everything they’ve got now?” demanded Orras.

“Then we kill as many more as we need,” said Deadbone simply, and Orras shuddered. It was clear Deadbone felt nothing.

“I wouldn’t worry about it too much, Orras,” said Tol reassuringly. “Right now, they don’t even know what hit them. What they assumed was a bunch of unruly houseless vagrants has now become a well-armed unified group against them.”

Mr. Tol clicked a button on his wrist, and the projector divided into six smaller and separate live feeds of the aftermath of their attack on the wall. Half of Skye Street was in ruins, the fires now doused, but you could see the damage was done through the smoke. Their forces had managed to reach as far as the Council building, where the knights held their ground with the help of the dragon Chief. They dispersed then, but not without blowing up the front of the building. 

“We have scarred them," said Deadbone, sounding almost amused.

“Oh, yes,” said Tol. “They were attacked in the heart of their own territory, where they felt safest, and were shown their greatest defense force was not prepared for it.”

“You said I expected them to be afraid, Orras…do you think they are not?”

Orras felt the weight of his armor and helmet more than ever, and privately he wondered how far he would have to go. He had no problem killing the Council members, their insult to him was reason enough, but this felt more like they were going to war. Orras had been just a child when the great conflict with the humans was ending; he only saw a small part of it, but he remembered the many funerals and grief of his kin. 

“I also have to commend you for the armor you made her,” added Deadbone.

“What is it to you?”

“Oh, I’m simply admiring the craftsmanship. She would have died today if not for your good work. I am grateful to you, Master Warlock.”

“Sherr’Yand’Rull was a friend…I did my best work for her,” said Orras, honestly.

“Like your father did for hers,” said Deadbone.

Orras looked at him suspiciously, “how do you know that?”

“I know everything there is to know about the people that interest me. You do, and so does her.”

“I know she is a Royal Knight, but she’s not like the rest of them,” said Orras cautiously, it was hard to read the man, or what his interest in her might be.

“Are you concerned about her?” Deadbone asked, and for once, his lips curved slightly into a smile. “I would have thought you lumped her with the rest of them after your exile.”

“...that was not her fault,” said Orras, and truthfully, he had mixed feelings when it came to his old friend, yet surprisingly, he felt the need to defend her now.

“Well, I have a personal matter to settle with her, but you don’t have to worry about that. You’ve already done your part for this endeavor quite nicely,” said Deadbone, holding up one of Orras custom-made bullets. Armor piercing, with the tip made of the same special magic-infused stones he had discovered. 

It had seemed only natural to Orras that the only way to get through the magical defenses of the knights was with some of their own. He had concealed the stones from the council after his meeting with them, collapsing the tunnels they knew about while continuing to search for them over the years. It cost him his exile, but he was not going to give up the first true hope of magic for his people just because they were threatened by it. 

“These are quite magnificent,” continued Deadbone, “you gave us a way to hurt them.” 

Orras said nothing, he seemed to want to provoke him more than praise him. “I suppose it is a lot to process,” said Deadbone, reading his expression. “It must have felt better when you didn’t have to get your own hands dirty. You just made the guns and put them out there for others to do it for you. Felt less personal I bet, like you didn’t have a part in it…but you certainly can’t shake that responsibility now, can you Orras?”

Deadbone's face remained mostly expressionless, but his eyes always betrayed what he felt, and he saw the mocking in them. Orras felt his temple vein pulse, and his eyes darted towards his staff, holding the same big blue rock he had found first. One thought and he could send a bolt of lightning into this monster’s face.

“I wouldn't if I were you,” said Deadbone, guessing his intentions. “I know it sounds harsh, but friends often have to be.”

Deadbone paced around the room, looking at Orras’ collection of weapons as he talked. “Everyone wants things to change, but no one wants to do what it takes to make it happen. And I understand that, who would want to bear the guilt of having killed others, good or bad, even if it is to make things better?”

He stopped by a small display case of several swords Orras had crafted, gingerly picking one by the blade itself. “But if no one does, and all other options are exhausted, then things stay the same. So we have to become monsters…so that others don’t have to.”

In an instant, he crushed the sword's blade in his hand as if it were paper, a sick screeching sound echoing from the metal scraping against something even harder. Orras gaped, those had been made of strong steel, sharp enough to cut through other metals, yet Deadbone didn't have the least bit of damage on his hand. He had thought the stunt with the bullet before had been a trick for dramatic effect, but this was real. 

“You might not get a spot at the top of the mountain when this is over Orras, but thanks to your sacrifice, others will be able to climb it. That’s quite a gift you’re giving them…so don’t feel bad.”

“You’re no elf, and that was not magic,” said Orras, overcoming his surprise and fear. “What in the hell of the great forge are you, creature?”

“Same thing you are now, one of the new monsters that will tear down the old ones.”