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“We’re free hunters who have walked this land for centuries. Fighting the Dah’Khasses almost took away the most important part of us — our freedom. Besides me, there are few in the tribes who know its true value.”

Hadjar could name at least one other orc who did. Her name was

Purling Song. By the High Heavens, she really did make the best rabbit stew Hadjar had ever eaten. By some strange coincidence... or maybe not a coincidence, she was also the wife of one of the two warriors the orc’s prophetic dream had chosen.

According to the fairy tales, Helmer always kept his word, if he wanted to…

Hadjar looked at his ring.

“The Lord of Nightmares doesn’t always give people nightmares, does he? Sometimes, he sends them dreams... or prophecies.”

The old orc looked up from the flames and turned to Hadjar. His eyes lit up with something that Hadjar, even after he became a Lord, would not want to encounter.

“One day, little hunter, you’ll learn that a mind without wisdom is like a blade without
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