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The first few years of his life were strange compared to life as a human on Earth. Orcish was a more aggressive language, reminiscent of how Russian or German sounded. He had to actively remind himself to try not to speak because whenever he tried, it didn't sound like anything recognizable. Then, once he was able to start saying words, he had to be mindful to not speak English. There was no telling how the orcs would react if he started speaking another language fluently.

By the time he was five, he'd mastered a good portion of Orcish. Speaking it almost as fluently as he once spoke English. He'd learned his mother's name was Murbol, and his father was Naguk. His name was Gurak. After learning Orcish, he was tasked with learning common, which, fortunately, was almost identical to English, which he was accustomed to in his previous life. He didn't use common frequently, but, with his decades-long life prior, the inherent knowledge made him pick it up rapidly.

Naguk came and lifted Gurak, he was a doting father. Behind closed doors, or as closed as an animal skin can be. He'd carry his son, talk to him constantly, and tell him of many adventures that Naguk himself had experienced. "One day, my son, you'll be a warrior like myself. I'm sorry that you were not born to a shaman or the chieftain. That you must be the son of Naguk. But know that I will always be proud of you, no matter what the shaman says when he uses the appraisal glass to see your skills and your future is decided. We only have one, we stole it from human adventurers decades ago, and when our shaman discovered its use, we've since used it as a holiday, to celebrate the future. Celebrating what you and the other children could represent for our people. It takes a considerable amount of mana to use, so he only uses it once a year, and then he, his assistants, and the chieftain decide what job best suits the child's inherent abilities." Naguk smiled though and kisses his son's forehead. Gurak felt strange but hugged his father firmly who chuckled. "Fear not little one. I will stand beside you. My son is destined to be a great warrior, I'm sure of it." Naguk's smile was big and toothy.

Early on the next morning, all the children were brought outside, their parents standing just a step or two behind their progeny, as the shaman came around, and inspected each of the children born to this clan. Each parent put their child forward and looked incredibly proud when the shaman spoke of their child and their blessings. One of his assistants walked behind him, writing all of this down on a stone tablet. Using a quill and ink to do so. Something like paper was likely uncommon in the world, especially amongst orcs.

However, when the shaman came to Murbol and Naguk's child. He stopped, looked quite concerned, then moved on to the next. He said nothing and made no indication that Gurak had any blessings at all. Leaving the family quite confused and concerned, especially Gurak himself. He thought he'd been given quite a few blessings, surely he wasn't betrayed, right? Gurak knew he had some blessings, he'd healed his mother's arm when she'd burned herself cooking, as well as healed his father's leg after a hunt, which had left a considerable wound. Naguk might never have walked again, if not for the healing power that Naguk possessed, and used that night.

After the ceremony, Murbol and Naguk were brought into the chieftain's hut, and Gurak wasn't far behind. The chieftain looked concerned but elated simultaneously. Whatever revelation he had, it was going to be a burden. He paced back and forth, before sitting and smiling at the pair. "Murbol, Naguk. I believe your son is destined for greatness, he has the most blessings we've seen of any orc in generations. Not in our known history has any orc seen more than three blessings. Those with three blessings were rare, but, we have a history of them. They went on to become great champions. Chieftains, shamans, or heroes of the orcish clans." He looks at the pair, both Murbol and Naguk looking excited. "Your son, he has five." The chieftain, whose name he would find out later, was 'Surgha' held up his hand, four fingers and thumb extended. "We have never in our history heard of a child with five blessings." He regards the two. "But, more than that....He has the blessing of the void."

Murbol and Naguk's faces, if they were able to go pale, went as pale as possible. Not that Gurak himself could tell much of the difference when looking at them. Murbol was the first to speak up.

"Are you sure Chieftain? The blessing of the void? The glass might be wrong!" She seemed to plead, Gurak himself, didn't understand the implication of it. Had he made a mistake in asking Agan for his blessing? He wondered to himself. The implication felt heavy and the fear in Gurak's mind was building.

The chieftain spoke up. "The shaman checked a second time and had his assistant look, to confirm it as well, just to be sure. Five blessings and one of them is definitely Void." Naguk and Murbol regarded their son and grinned, as big as he'd ever seen. Naguk picked up his son and hugged him, spinning in place, roaring happily. Gurak was even more confused, he spoke softly, as he looked at his father.

"Father, what does that mean? Am I in trouble?" The fear in his voice was easily noticed. Naguk laughed and shook his head.

"Of course not Gurak! The blessing of the void is a rare and special thing. Those with the void blessing are destined to change not only the lives of their people around them but of the whole world Gurak. You will change the world itself! I know this is confusing for you son, but it is a great blessing, a boon for not just our village but all orcs everywhere." Naguk smiled and spun his son again, before setting him back down onto his feet.

The chieftain continued. "Among his blessings are fire, which is expected, and lightning, because of his birth season. But also light, wind, then finally, void. What job should he take in the village? Well, we think that's up to him. Because of his unique blessings, he can become anything he wants to be. So we'll give him a bit of training in everything. Shaman, hunter, warrior, mage. Then let him decide which he prefers."

The chieftain spoke softly as he regarded the parents. He sighs softly. "I don't know who he will become. But, what I do know, is that we are celebrating this night. Regardless of his place in our village, your son heralds a new age for our kind, for us. This is worthy of celebration, and I intend on doing just that, not just the knowledge one of our kin will change the world." He nods to the shamans and urged them out the door to begin preparations for the feast. "During the feast, we'll announce it. He is the treasure of our clan, the future of our people!" Gurak felt a pit in his stomach. He couldn't have known that choosing void as a blessing was going to be such a big deal.

Gurak felt a sudden burden on his shoulders. What had he done when he asked for Agan's blessing? Was it so heavy? He shuddered as he thought about his future. For now, though, he was hoisted back onto his father's shoulder, and taken back out of the hut, his father Naguk roared, excitedly, and the tribe roared back, matching his enthusiasm. Some were still gathered outside, awaiting word on what was so secretive about the child's blessings. Word spread fast in such a small clan as theirs. Already the other parents were looking at him with scorn, the children with envy. He'd made a mess of this, and all he did was be born.

It was a pleasant night. Song, dance, the hunters had killed several larger beasts for the feast. All through the night the orc clan celebrated. His mother and father especially. A lot of the other orcs weren't keen at first, but after some time, the news settled and they realized what it could mean. Even if it wasn't their child at the forefront of orcish history, their kids could stand beside him. Sure, they wouldn't be the hero, but even aiding the hero of the orcs could carry significant weight for generations.

Gurak was sure tomorrow would be a busy day, in no small part because, starting tomorrow, was both his training and the barrage of other young orcs who wanted to either become his best friend or his lover. It was a burden no child should have to bear, especially one so young, but it was set upon him regardless of his wants.

When the dawn came, some of the orcs were still celebrating, most of them at least. Many of the children had already fallen asleep, Gurak among them. While most parents were busy creating the next generation of orcs, set to meet a world where an orc hero would shape the future.

Years passed, and Gurak was met with harsh training, the harshest of all from his father. In the blink of an eye, his father went from doting and carrying him on his shoulders to pushing Gurak to be stronger, faster, smarter, and more powerful than any other orc child in the clan. Gurak was pushed to be the best, and in most cases, it worked out. He got strong quickly, as orcs were prone to. But his memory of the world before gave him a significant advantage when it came to using magic. It seemed imagination, particularly, how one conceived the shape of the spell, affected its creation.

His skill was beyond what even his teachers were capable of. Sadly, none could instruct him in the use of void magic, it was long since lost to the orc clan's histories if it ever was a part of their history in the first place.

The chieftain even reached out to every other clan he knew of, asking them to do the same, seeking any who could aid young Gurak in harnessing and learning the void magic he possessed, alas, none came forward, no clan had any history of such magics in their remembered histories. Among the hundreds of clans, the thousands of orcs, none could help him. This was something he'd have to figure out on his own. Nonetheless, because of this, the word of his blessing spread, and as such, orcs from other tribes began to come and join the clan blessed with a void child. Their numbers grew slowly, but the small village slowly grew into a bustling orc city. But not just orcs, other races began hearing rumors of an orc child with the blessing of the void.

But the rest of the magical blessings, he picked most up easily with instruction. Fire magic came the easiest, as it was his racial element. Weaving fire and controlling it was almost like second nature to the young orc. He outclassed his master of fire magic within the first few weeks of training, eventually teaching the older orc how to harness fire with greater efficacy.

Typically, spells were cast by imagining what you wanted to create. Orcs weren't the most imaginative, however, so their spells were typically imagining a ball, or stone, of the specific energy, which was effective, of course, but inefficient. When other small tweaks could increase the efficiency. By showing his mentor to imagine an arrow, rather than a simple ball, the fire spell took on a piercing effect, that once inside of the target, could, with practice, pierce most metal armor.

Next came lightning, it was a little trickier, but he took to it easily enough. Harnessing an electric charge between his hands and releasing it was easy enough. But it didn't have quite the oomph he wanted, that's when he changed his perspective and taught his mentor something new as well. Rather than harnessing the limited electricity inherent in himself, he showed his mentor how to manipulate the energy around them, and call lightning down from the skies, such a tactic was sure to surprise most enemies. This new tweak allowed him to utilize not only his power but the very nature of the magic itself. Magnifying the power of the spell immensely.

The third type of magic for him to learn was light, unbeknownst to his mentor though, he'd long since figured out how to use it as a child. Using the light element was closer to second nature than lightning had been. Likely because he chose it first, and the goddess Byasa took a liking to him. His adept use of it was unexpected, the shaman who had appraised him was his mentor in this particular element, and he had no trouble showing his proficiency with it. Even going so far as to show the shaman new methods of healing, rather than just hammering a wound with mending, he illustrated the reasoning for weaving instead, using the healing magic to stitch up a wound. Using light to suture the wound, rather than forcing it to close. Not just closing it, and stopping blood loss, but in many cases, the recipient of said healing effects were quicker recovery or no loss of use of the wounded limb. This revolutionized healing among the orc clans.

He then showed the shaman something he'd never considered, the ability to wield light as a weapon. Rather than just healing. One could use light to fashion a weapon, in this case, an arrow, and hurl it. Rather than just mending wounds, if one were to take the light energy and fold it on itself repeatedly, it could be used to create objects. Such a spell was unheard of until now, and it changed much. Light magic had only been known as healing magic, and nothing more. Healers, Clerics, and Shamans were considered important to most races. To create combat magic from light was wholly foreign to not just orcs, but any beings in this world. This change to magic theory was spread throughout the orc clans, and their unrefined, almost clumsy use of magic began to evolve.

Finally, was wind, this was the hardest for him to use for some reason. Wind magic was finicky, a breeze would rarely conjure when called. Oft it did as much harm to Gurak as the target itself. Gurak felt a challenge he hadn't known before with this element. He couldn't be sure if this was the goddess testing him to see if he truly deserved her gift, or if he was just incompetent with the element in general.

Regardless, he did not progress far with wind magic. Much to the disappointment of his mentor and the orcs who had surrounded him, learning magic with him, and adapting their spells to match his unique twist. The other children desperately sought his approval and friendship, but sadly, Gurak felt their admiration was because of his future and what it could do for them, rather than a true desire to be his friend. Gurak didn't begrudge them, they simply wanted to be part of the change that was in store for the future of orc kind. But knowing it wasn't truly a wish to be his friend, soured him on the attempts made to befriend him.

The biggest contribution he'd instilled in the other orcs though, rather than just hurling orbs of elemental energy, was the refinement of existing magic. Now instead of a 'ball' of energy, they formed arrows, spears, and even blades of elemental energy that were thrown through the air, with greater accuracy and now condensed, greater explosive energy upon impact. Orcs had begun to advance, their magical prowess jumping leaps and bounds ahead. With enough time, their skill with magic might even be considered to rival that of humans or elves.

While this didn't change the orc's position in the hierarchy of the world, it certainly caused a few heads in the magic community to take cautious note. Orcs were developing new magic, powerful magic, that went against current norms and history. The portents of this were troubling to the races that considered themselves 'civilized' in comparison. A rapid power shift was approaching, and many mages were not keen on the idea of their discoveries and position being challenged, by least of all....orcs.

Though, such things wouldn't come to light for years, if even in this lifetime, right?

After many years of intense training, honing, and refining, Gurak's arcane abilities were renowned among orcs. He was heralded as the orc champion when in his clan's gatherings, possibly a future shaman of not just his clan, but a leader who could bring together the disjointed clans, a warlord leading a war band. There was only one such story in the clans, long, long ago, a female orc named Maz'ora, her strength, her wisdom, her peerless skill in battle and magic led to the orcs becoming considered a 'sentient' race among the more civilized. Because of her, orcs were no longer killed on sight. They were still regarded fearfully, but her ability with blade, magic, and words, led the other races to regard her as an equal and as such, her people.

If one could attain this level of competence, surely others could as well. It was after her, that orcs' began to trade, fight alongside and join otherwise civilized races in the world. Adventurers, mages, rogues, druids, not quite heroes, but heroes to their people, these orcs blazed the trail they could walk today. No one knew if Maz'ora had been blessed with Void magic, which was lost in the histories, but her name lived on for centuries after.

Gurak was certain to do something similar. His clan was sure of it.

As was customary in orcish society, children were seen as adults when their tusks came in. For most children, this was around the time humans hit puberty. Their voices deepen, hair growing in new places, and other...normal changes in their demeanor and bodies. Gurak was no different. He grew into a strong young man, his tusks came in just after his thirteenth birthday. The custom of his people was, when you were of age, you'd go on a hunt alone. This wasn't always the case, there were special exceptions. Naturally, Gurak was one such individual, rather than go on a hunt, he was tasked with joining an orcish party to investigate a dungeon that had appeared. Such things weren't uncommon, but they didn't usually show up near an orcish clan's village either.

Days before Gurak was to join the other, older, experienced orcish warriors and shaman, his father took him out for a hunt, not as a rite of passage, but to speak to him in a more private setting. They had managed to take down a boar earlier that day and camped out in the woods together. Miles from their village.

As the boar roasted on the fire, the meat glistened in the firelight and the strong scent of boar filled the air. His father, sitting beside him spoke up. "Gurak, I'm sorry if I was hard on you these last few years."

He rumbled out. Grey streaks here and there started to show in his once dark hair. Naguk was starting to look like an elder. "I wanted to make sure you would be prepared for the world. We orcs aren't seen as civilized, we're considered savages by most other races. So, I need you to be stronger, smarter....better than we are. I don't want them to treat you as lesser, they will anyway, and I can do nothing to stop them." He looks at his son, the fire's light making his features appear to shift, even though nothing about him changed.

"So I did the only thing I could. If I can't make them better, more understanding, at least I can make you strong enough to endure it. Strong enough to stand up to them. Strong enough to show them, you are not a savage, their treatment of us, is what is savage. Because we do not worship their gods, we do not live in their houses, and we are seen as lesser. You will show them though Gurak. You will make them see our strength, you will be our hero, our champion, you will be the orc who changes the world."

Gurak felt a hint of blush on his face, embarrassment at his father's words, but also the understanding of what his future looked like. After a few minutes of eating quietly, Naguk spoke up once more. "I should also warn you about dungeons. They are....strange occurrences in our world. Every so often, one will appear, without warning, but always within a few miles distance of a settlement. Many believe this to be a sign that a god has blessed a particular place or people. Which god, and why, we've never known. But such things are common. A few dungeons are cleared within the first month. Most are cleared within the first year of their appearance, though there are a few that have existed for decades and never been cleared. You know when it's been completely cleared, because when it has been, the whole dungeon disappears, as quickly as it appeared. Leaving the heroes, and any who had yet to finish the dungeon unaffected. Those who defeated it are left with whatever treasure they claimed. You were to hunt on your own this week. But I asked the chieftain to allow you to join the incursion into the dungeon that appeared not too far from here. I feel in my heart that you are meant to be a part of that group. Its appearance coincides with your tusks coming in is too coincidental, so I've asked for special permission for you."

Naguk regarded his son carefully, he reached out and placed one hand on the younger orc's shoulder. "There is a lot to learn about dungeons, so I shall share what I know." The older orc still sitting beside Gurak and started to speak. "Firstly, dungeons are not a natural occurrence. They are sent by the gods. They always appear within a few miles of a town, village, city, or other such. They appear close to a place of civilization. But not so close as to potentially cause harm to it. Dungeons exist until they are cleared. Some have been around for centuries and have never been conquered. If you fail to conquer a dungeon, well... it's because you died. Once you go in, the only way out is to clear the dungeon. That's why not all of them are cleared. It's believed that the older a dungeon is, the tougher it is. But we have no basis to prove this. That's why we feel secure sending you with seasoned warriors to clear this one. We'd send a party anyway, but, we think you'll learn a lot from real-world experience."

Naguk smiles. "Now, the best part, the treasure." The older orc chuckles and grins. "A dungeon's treasure vault is also believed to be hand-picked by the gods. They place unique gifts inside. The most important part is, there is a time limit. Once that door opens, you only have a few moments. By most guesses, it's about a minute from the moment someone walks past the threshold. Anything you aren't holding in your hands when time runs out becomes ethereal and lost."

Naguk continued "Mana crysts are the most common, and are condensed mana, beasts can't use magic like we can, so while they absorb mana as we do, it becomes a physical object inside of them, obviously the older and stronger a beast, the more refined and powerful the mana cryst. They have multiple uses, from enchanting items to supplementing magic. Next, we have tomes and scrolls. Tomes are special because reading the book grants you a powerful and unique skill. You won't know what skill, until you read it, unfortunately, but, be assured, it's something distinctly potent. Scrolls are similar, in that, they can be read and teach you a powerful, unique spell, which can be considered S+ in power. To give an example. We typically only use F or E-rank spells, Shamans, bastions of knowledge and magical power, will probably only ever see their magical abilities reach B rank. The grandest wizards in the world, elves and humans, often attain A or even S rank and are considered the most powerful mages. For anyone to attain an S+ spell, would be significant beyond words."

Naguk thought for a moment, then spoke once more. "Lastly, there are unique treasures. Swords, shields, armor, rings, necklaces, all that stuff. Because they are found in dungeons, they are....especially unique. Most come with multiple enchantments, two minimum, four at most. But these are unique because they chose their bearer. Not just anyone can pick them up. As such, they aren't considered desirable items, since only a small handful of people are typically allowed to use them. As to what the specifics are for each piece, it's unknown. Is the item sentient, or do the gods select those who are worthy? We have no way of knowing. But that's all I know about dungeons. I've never actually been in one myself. I've focused on hunting, adventuring was never really in my blood."

Naguk smiles softly. "I'm sorry for putting so much on you. You are just a child, my child." He says as he looks back into the fire. "I wanted to be the kind of father, my father wasn't. I hope you don't grow up to hate me, for putting so much on you." Something in Naguk's eyes made Gurak think that his grandfather wasn't a good person. Abuse wasn't really common, at least, not in Gurak's village, but, he couldn't be sure about the history of orcs as a whole.

Gurak looked at his father and gently shook his head. "I don't. I could never." He says softly. "I know I am young, but I feel wiser beyond my years. When I need an idea, it comes to me like lightning striking a tree. When my path gets confusing and dark, a light suddenly comes and illuminates where I need to go." He smiles softly. "The love of you and mother is the fire in my heart I could never thank you enough for, and keeps me warm no matter how cold. You are a wonderful father."

He smiles gently toward his father, and Naguk, in a moment of weakness, lets a tear streak down his face, before he wipes it away. Before Naguk can say anything, however, Gurak came over and hugged his father firmly. "I love you, and I thank you for all you have done and continue to do for me. I know my future will be hard, so I want to enjoy this time with you and mother, I want these moments to last for as long as possible. I don't know the future, but I know it won't always be easy, so I thank you for being hard, for giving me the strength today, I will need tomorrow, and every day after."

Naguk hugged his son firmly and let a few more tears slip before he patted his son on the back. "Just please be careful. Dungeons are dangerous, and the beasts within can cause significant harm. Your limits may be tested in a way you've never known before." He pats Gurak's back softly before he leans back and smiles at his son. Young Gurak's face was covered in tears, his red hair, unkempt and messy, much like his father's. Seeing his son's face made the older orc smile and laugh softly. "Now, get some sleep, we'll head back to camp tomorrow morning, with our catch and then you'll need to rest up for the upcoming adventure into the dungeon.

Eventually, the day came. Gurak was geared up with leather armor made for a young man of his size, a pair of handaxes his parents had made for him for his first hunt, which had now become his first sojourn into a dungeon. Armed with these, and four companions, all older and more experienced in warfare. A warrior wielding a greatsword, a shaman's assistant, a rogue with dual daggers, and a ranger wielding a bow, but he also kept a short sword sheathed at his hip. The five of them walked to the entrance, where several adventurers were already gathered. Each group waited a few minutes before entering the gateway as a group. Each disappears after walking past the threshold. None of the adventurers gathered seemed to pay the orcs much mind.

Gurak had no idea how this all worked, and besides the short explanation his father gave him at the campfire, he had no idea what to expect. So when it came to their turn, he stuck close to the other orcs and passed the threshold with them. Behind him, the gateway disappeared as did the other adventurers. Leaving only a stone wall, the group that had gone in before them just moments before was nowhere to be seen. He looked to the others and one of them spoke up, the shaman's assistant. "Each group enters the dungeon, but none of us can interact with each other. It's a race, so to speak. The first to reach the treasure vault is the only group that gets the treasure. Each is probably similar in appearance, but I honestly don't know. This is my first dungeon as well. All we know for sure, is we want to be first there. Stay close, stay low, and stay quiet."

The dungeon was dark and smelled wet and moldy. There were sounds from up ahead, the clatter of bone, soft, barely audible growls, and scraping of metal on stone. Last of all though, was a deep thump every so often. Something big was deep inside.

Gurak kept his eyes forward in the low light, and the group moved along. They encounter a few challenges throughout the dungeon. Some skeletons in disheveled armor, other beasts not native to the forest, like mushroom creatures, strangely colored wolves, and even a fairy, who was very intent on killing them. Thankfully the party was skilled in working together, Gurak wasn't, but that was alright, as he was in the back, primarily observing and learning. Mostly, he focused on healing his allies. Between him and the shaman, wounds were negligible, and they made rapid progress. Each of his companions knew what to do, and most importantly, when to do it. The mana crysts were small, and of little value, but the party gathered them all the same.

Before the young orc had managed to understand the layout of the dungeon. They had found a large ornate door. The others came close and crouched down. The warrior speaking softly. "We're here. This is the boss room, I'm sure of it. Not sure what we'll face, but we can all hear the thumps. Stay back if you can, only take a shot if you see a safe opening. I'm not going to bury any of you today." He put his hand in front of him, and the other orcs, one by one put their hand with him, till only Gurak was left, he looks at them, and they grin and nod, he put his hand in after everyone else, the clenched fists and let out a roar that surprised Gurak, given how quiet they had been up to this point.

The door was pushed open, and it creaked loudly, as they passed the doorway, it pulled closed behind them with a loud thud and clank, the room was circular, and in the center was a creature that looked humanoid, but taller, taller than the orcs even, almost twice their height when it stood from its position in its knees. Around the room torches suddenly lit up, illuminating the room. Giving them a good view of the creature. It was a cyclops, a...lady cyclops at that, as was evident by the beast's pronounced chest. The others spread out, cyclopses had a narrow field of vision, and most of the battle experienced group knew that. The first to speak was the warrior as he moved around. "Surround, keep out of its vision, strike from behind when able, legs first, then go for the kill." The rogue and Gurak were the first to move while the ranger kept its attention, firing arrows at the cyclops, hitting it in the chest and arms.

It kept focused on the ranger with her rapid arrow volleys. While distracted, Gurak and the rogue each came up behind a leg, the loud steps shaking the ground when they got near. Both used their blades to cut as deep as they could manage into the beast's legs. Gurak was shy of doing significant damage, but the rogue's cuts were effective, it howled angrily and dropped to one leg. That's when the shaman and warrior moved in. The shaman's fire magic meant to sear the beast's face, trying to burn out its ability to see, while the warrior lept into the air, bringing down his greatsword to cleave the beast's skull.

Either bad luck, or the beast anticipated it, because one hand covered its face mitigating the fire magic, and a swing of its offhand, backhanded the warrior back against the wall, where he clattered in his armor, and slumped to the ground.

Gurak saw this and knowing the warrior was the leader, saw that no one else was taking charge. The ranger stopped and looked heartbroken, the Shaman was too afraid to move and the rogue couldn't fight the beast solo, so he lept back to hide among the shadows. The party had ground to a halt without the warrior to give orders. Gurak saw a moment, a flash of inspiration, that twinkle of light on the path, this was his moment.

So he spoke up, he wasn't the leader, but the others were used to the warrior's commands, without someone taking charge they seemed unable to act. "Ranger!" Gurak shouted, making her snap out of her stupor, eyes leaving the slumped form of the warrior and turning to look at the child they'd brought along.

Gurak shouted again "Keep on the move, keep its attention. Shaman, prepare a burst of light magic, go for brighter over power, we want it to be like the sun in here. Fire it at the ranger's feet. Give her a warning, so she has time to protect herself, the cyclop's will focus on her. Rogue, you go for its other leg, and I'll heal the warrior." Each stopped and looked at the younger orc, the rogue was about to protest. Gurak was a child and had no leadership experience, he had no right to assume command, but before he could voice protest, a shout of warning followed by a burst of light filled the room as the ranger and shaman took his command in stride. The cyclops reared back and roared in anger, its vision in the low light greatly affected by the sudden burst of light.

Gurak rushed to the warrior's side, and he focused on healing. He could detect several broken ribs and some internal bleeding. Gurak focused on his light magic, not just stitching any external cuts, but using it to penetrate the orc's skin and set the bones, mend them, then weave the tissue and bone together as it was meant to be. The warriors breathing went from ragged, to slow and deep, stable. The others kept the Cyclops distracted, both legs of the beast carved up now, blood oozing from the wounds on the back of the cyclop's legs, pooling at the beast's feet now.

Seeing the beast start to recover, Gurak had done all he could for the warrior, so he turned his attention. The cyclops had its ability to see inhibited and this was his only chance. He rushed forward, unsheathing his two axes, he knew he couldn't sink the blades deep enough to matter, the cyclop's skin was too hard and thick, but if he distracted the beast just a little longer. He focused on his axes and tried to use wind magic to give them the best trajectory before he threw both, a faint glint of wind magic surrounding them, in an attempt to sharpen their impact. Then with a pair of thunks into cyclop's arms, both axes found purchase and split the skin, not enough to do any significant harm, but certainly to piss off the cyclop's who roared angrily!

This was the moment he was waiting for, with the arms wounded, and the beast enraged, that roar was the opening he needed.

Gurak changed tactics and focused his magic now. Both hands form the magic ball between them, then refine it. Rather than a clunky ball of energy, it shrank, tightened, and sharpened at the tip. Imagining an arrow and the magic taking that form. He then let it loose, the cyclops vision still impaired by the flash of light earlier and the wounds inflicted. "Raging flame, a blessing of Aethos, condense and reduce my foe to ash! Ignition Arrow!" He shouted triumphantly.

The arrow of flame launched, sparks of flame trailing behind it, and pierced the target, the cyclop's eye. Once inside, the magic released its shape, and a burst of fire magic ignited within the eye sealing the beast's fate. Gurak had learned through training that naming a spell, gave it greater power and potency. Since he'd come up with this shape and the unique attribute of it detonating once it had pierced the target, the name felt appropriate. This was his spell, crafted by himself, and it was the first time anyone other than his magic mentors had seen him use it. The incantation was of his own making and increased the power even more. This was true for all races of course, not simply orcs, so it was entirely possible other races had similar magic at their disposal, he'd have to be mindful.

The cyclops fell forward with a dull groan and a loud, room-shaking thud. The beast began to sizzle and pop, its corpse melting away slowly. Though Gurak was more focused on something else, rather than the cyclop's body dissipating. From its corpse came a mana cryst, larger than any they'd seen before, it took the appearance of the cyclop's eye, signifying it was a more potent version, or perhaps unique in some way.

Energy swirled around the group, golden sparks illuminating them as they grew in experience, their abilities increasing, and knowledge expanding.

Before Gurak a small window appeared, semi-translucent in appearance and with the words 'Level up!' He'd never experienced such a strange sensation but immediately understood the implications. It was a status window, much like video games he'd played in his youth, and this was his own. He didn't spend any of the accumulated points, or select any skills, instead preferring to consider his options before doing something irreversible. So he closed the window, with the intent of exploring this new aspect of the world. He could see the Shaman and the Warrior had similar windows appeared in front of them, but they were too far away to read.

The warrior stood up after a few breaths and looked around the room, shocked by the outcome, he was sure he was dead, he'd felt the ribs break and likely his lung being punctured, he was certain. They gathered in the center of the room as he caught his breath. "What happened?" He asked, and the rogue was the first to reply.

"Gurak took command when you went down. He came up with a strategy as soon as you hit the ground, if it wasn't for his quick thinking, I dunno if we'd be alive, you definitely wouldn't be." He stated simply to the armor-clad orc. The rogue punched the warrior square in the chest, where the orc's body had been healed, there was still the obvious dent in the armor where the cyclops had struck the potentially fatal blow.

The warrior nodded. "So he is responsible?" The warrior then laughs. "Truly, Gurak, you are meant to lead us, aren't you? You had a plan as soon as you saw this beast, didn't you? Speak plain and true."

Gurak looked at the warrior, nerves getting the better of the young man and he was unable to maintain eye contact but then nodded. "Y-yeah....Cyclops have a narrow field of vision that much is obvious, but they also don't have good vision in the light, that's why the candles are in here, in low light. A flash of bright light temporarily blinded her while she was reeling, I healed you, and then loosed a fire arrow that luckily pierced her eye while she tried to readjust to the low light. I couldn't have done it without the others though. They distracted her long enough to heal you up. It's like you said, I'm not burying anyone today. I was only following your orders."

The warrior watched Gurak and burst out laughing. "True, true, very good on you lad." The warrior walked into the center of the room where the cyclops had been, he picked up the mana cryst and handed it to Gurak. "You earned this. Do any of you challenge?" He looked at the other members of the group. No one spoke up, so apparently no one else sought to lay claim to the prize. "This is a boss cryst, it's stronger than normal. It's naturally a rank higher than a beast of the normal type. Since you struck the final blow, you are entitled to it. Put it in your pouch." The warrior smiled and clapped the younger man on the shoulder, almost knocking Gurak to the ground.

After a few moments, a door on one side of the circular room opened up, a golden glow coming from it. The party roared excitedly and rushed towards it. No other adventurers were seen, in rare cases, he'd heard that parties would sometimes kill the boss close to the same time, and see each other in the treasury. Such an occurrence made the young orc concerned, he'd hate to fight over something like that inside of the treasury. The doorway lead to gold and magical treasure, which was very appealing to the young orc.

The others were the first inside. Gurak was last to follow them, amidst chests of gold, rings, necklaces, bracelets, and various things. The others grabbed things they liked or simply wanted. Some, when grabbed, didn't move. The warrior was especially eager to take a greatsword that looked rather fancy, but it refused to budge. The orc grunted. "Damned deity-blessed weapons, they choose who wields them, and no other. Truly a boon to those who wield them, but an absolute pain in the ass if they don't choose you."

Gurak went about gathering up some gold, filling his pouches. Just enough to weigh them down a good amount, before he started looking at other things, he found a strange shield with two sides to it, as it could slip over one's arm, he attempted to lift it and it came up easily. They were silver and shiny, likely some enchantment upon them, but there was no way to know in the middle of gathering these precious treasures. The warrior snorts at Gurak and laughs. "Of course it picked you." He chuckles and continued to grab anything that let him pick it up.

Gurak's attention was then pulled to an axe, strange in shape, and large in size. Easily bigger than himself. He reached out and took hold of it. It resisted a moment, but he felt it relent and suddenly, it was weightless in his hands. He looks at it, admiring it for a few moments before he felt a buzz in the air. The warrior spoke up. "We're running outta time, grab the last few things you want, the dungeon is closing."

Gurak, not wanting to waste this opportunity started grabbing anything he could as well, now he understood why the others were rushing, he had forgotten there was a time limit. Soon Gurak had necklaces around his neck and rings on almost every finger. Some fit easily, others, were just loose on his fingers, he found, changed the size to match his finger's size, likely magical.

Then, slowly, it all started to fade and within a few moments the dungeon was gone, anything not in his hands phased out of existence. Around them shouts and roars of anger filled the air as the other parties realized they'd failed to reach the treasury before some other group. Which group was easily surmised, as the orcs were decked out in quite a bit of gold and enchanted treasure.

Gurak cheered, but he cheered alone, the other orcs were watching the other adventure parties, and the others regarded the orcs with contempt. Some start to lift their weapons and look quite angry.

"Gods damned orcs...stealing our treasure. We earned that! Hows about you give that up and we let you leave in one piece, sounds fair, doesn't it green skin?" One of the elves shouted in common, a disgusted sneer on his face. Then others approached the orcs, taking up arms as well, regarding the orcs not as heroes, or champions of the dungeon. But as thieves, savages who stole what was rightfully theirs.

It was at this moment that Gurak realized, he'd regarded the other races as friends, but they saw him as an enemy. The humans, elves, and dwarves saw him as little more than the same as the monster they had just defeated in the dungeon. It was the first time in this new life he'd felt fear well up inside of him, and this fight wasn't over. The other parties came rushing at him and his group of orc champions, intent on taking everything they'd earned, because these civilized races thought they were the only ones deserving of precious treasures, and no words would sway them, nor stay their rapidly approaching blades.