The handwriting is a disaster, smeared in excrement and mucus, it makes one dizzy to gaze upon and whatever you do, don’t smell the parchment. It is delivered from one damned soul to another until it reaches a demon of proper stature.

Overlords of Hell,

Fuck you. I deserve better than this. I was a fine person, not deserving to be trapped in this burnt corpse of a dead baby with wings.

As you thought might happen, the orc Blood Whisperer summoned me to look over his grandson while he travels with the Dwarven King. I had no idea they were headed south and I have no head for tracking, so some weeks were lost.

The little orcling is learning from a swordsmaster, the First Knight of Marsui. He is some killer who oversees the Judicial Dueling in the city. The High King has sent an outcast to be the orc princeling’s guide. The outcast is son of Helson the Berserk and appears to have much of the same berserker blood in his veins while people watch and then he becomes strangely lucid when he feels that none are paying attention. Berserkers who can stop to take survey of the land around them are dangerous things.

At night they both take lessons with a human sorcerer to hone their will and perception.

The politics of the city, the High King and the Guilders is intense. Will the Berserker King attempt to take the High Throne while the High King is in the south? Will the human Queen lay siege to the Guilders for access to their treasure vaults? I’m not sure I care.

This little orc experiment is moving along at a brisk pace. The boy watches Marsui life go by, with none of the brutality that he witnessed in the Broken Mountains. The city’s no picnic, to be sure. The Queen proclaimed that all religions are welcome in her city, so more and more refugees arrive every day. Some even worship some of your infernal lot. But even the most brutal scene in a human alley is no more than an every day occurrence to one who has lived with an orc horde.

The Lord of Darkness and Blood wishes me to serve this boy and so serve him I shall.

But dammit, I deserve better than this.

(unsigned)