Epilogue: Starry starry night

As they walked back through the passageway following the trail of blood, Short-arse trailed behind. She had found a book hidden in the far corner before they left written in the unintelligible scrawl of an Orc hand. The front was simply labelled, ‘Skabnozez book – sekrit – and off (dat meens yu!)’

“Anything interesting in there?” asked Trogdar.

“Not much,” replied Short-arse, “just some rubbish about how to be in 2 places at once and which is the best mushroom to eat whilst summoning creatures. Perhaps the Wizard would like it!”

“I would!” replied the Wizard.

The three other warriors laughed at this, the first time they had shared a joke together.

“My Gods, here’s something interesting,” said Short-arse, pausing at a particular page, “it mentions the Grunsson axe and the Star of the Dawn; the thing that was mentioned in the scroll on my Lord’s corpse. It seems the shaman traded the axe for the star – he must know where the axe is!”

“Traded it?” asked Jandyr. “Who to?”

“It says Kaos boys...” said Short-arse, the implications dawning on them all. “It also mentions they each have a key, maybe it’s locked in a chest somewhere?”

“Dunno,” said Trogdar, “but there’s only one way to find out.”

They had returned to the Tomb chamber. At the far end of the tomb was a large trap door which had been left opened. The trail of blood led downwards.

“Shall we have a rest lads?” asked Trogdar “and, er, lass. Don’t know about you, but I’m knackered.”

“Are you sure it’s safe?” asked Jandyr.

“I imagine so,” replied Short-arse, “Greenskin filth do not usually stick around without a leader.”

“What do you reckon Wiz..?” asked Trogdar, turning round and stopping mid-sentence as he saw the Wizard propped up against the tomb, fast asleep.

“Guess we’re sleeping here then,” said Trogdar, taking off his bear skin robe to make a rudimentary bed.

“I shall be honoured to sleep at the feet of my forebears,” said Short-arse, hunkering down at the base of the tomb.

“I shall keep watch,” said Jandyr, “I do not tire in the same manner as men and Dwarfs.”

Short-arse looked up at the Elf but did not argue, today had been tiring in more ways than one and she could use the rest. As she lay there, her eyes sagging and head dropping, she mumbled under her breath, “maybe I should have buried him..?”

“Would’ve been nice...” said the ghost of Ungrun quietly.