Free Birth of a Mortal God by Armand Viljoen

chieftain’s head?”
    “Oh, that wasn’t me,” said his brother pointing to the severed head.
    “Chief led us to death. I save tribe,” said the captive.
    “I do not know the customs among Mu’lorgarr, but among us Ur’akgarr, harming your chieftain is punishable by death.”
    “My life for tribe. Happy sacrifice,” replied the man with a smile.
    “What is your name?”
    “To’nul.”
    “Stand, To’nul.”
    The man did as he was told, clearly confused, having expected to be executed.
    “G’nar, give him your axe,” said Asteroth as he retrieved his own. His red painted warleader complied without question, replacing the severed head with his own blood-soaked axe. “To’nul of Tribe Mu’lor, you have murdered your own chieftain, a crime which can not be pardoned. However, in doing so, you have saved your tribe from annihilation. An act of a warrior. I give you the title of Nor’wak. You will be forever remembered as the saviour of Tribe Mu’lor. Now come and experience a warrior’s death.”
    To’nul smiled, his eyes brimming with tears before he bellowed a war cry and charged. Asteroth waited for the first strike, stepping forward and left as the axe came down. He kicked hard with his right leg, pivoting on his left foot, causing To’nul’s axe to barely miss him while he beheaded him from behind in a spinning motion. It was executed so fast that most did not understand what they had seen.
    G’nar admired his brother’s skill. Though the subjugated tribes denied it, there are many of them who doubted Asteroth’s heritage. But it was displays such as this that were turning more and more of them into true believers.
    “Give all the warriors burials and make sure all the Mu’lorgarr know of Nor’wak To’nul’s sacrifice.” G’nar affirmed the order before Asteroth bellowed, “My brothers, we have won!” The statement was met with a roar of pride and happiness.
    “I’ll signal the women and children to come. Everyone will go about their usual tasks of breaking down the village. Gods know we’ve done it enough times to be experts,” said G’nar as he picked up his axe.
    “Only one more to go, brother. Soon we will be united.”
    His brother’s smile faded. “The next is Tribe U’nor.”
    Asteroth understood his concern. Tribe U’nor was legendary among the yog’murgarr. It was said that during the Time of Proving, they sent fifty warriors to each tribe, each group of U’norgarr killed so many of the opposing warriors that all the tribes admitted defeat within a week. They then isolated themselves on the top of the Viper Valley, killing any who dared come near their fortifications. They were also the only yog’murgarr who knew how to work with Black Stone, building their village from the very bosom of the Viper Mountains.
    “I have an idea on how to handle them.”
    “I know that look. I’m not going to like this idea, am I?”
    Asteroth smirked. “Probably not.”
    “All right, let me hear this plan.”
    “Well, I was thinking of flying into their village and being impressive.”
    “Fly into their village and be impressive. That’s your plan?” he said before running his hand over his face.
    “Well, the stories all say they respect strength. We are now more than fifty-thousand strong. Perhaps I can convince them to join us.”
    “And if they don’t feel very hospitable? Those same stories speak of the horrible things they do to those who come near their black walls, never mind fly into their village. You think they’ll just let you go? Like you said, our army is now more than fifty-thousand strong; we don’t need to convince them of anything.”
    Asteroth shook his head. “Not only do they have the higher ground, they also have black stone walls. My little trick of tossing a rock at them won’t be nearly as effective. We could take their village, but it will cost us dearly. I’d rather risk my life and save thousands of others. Remember the Spawn of the Black god