Home to the two half-orcs was in the older, mostly abandoned southern district of Veldaren. Those with wealth had drifted northeast, closer to the castle and away from the busy streets and markets. When King Vaelor had ordered all trade to come in through the western gate, and not the south, it had been the final nail in the district's coffin. The homeless, hungry, and destitute flooded the rows of abandoned buildings, clawing them away from their legal owners with their very presence, or sometimes their murders.
Harruq and Qurrah played that game well. They had grown up on the streets of Veldaren and fought for every scrap of food they’d eaten. They had punched and kicked for every soft, dry bed. Then, one day, they finally killed.
“A fine home is any home that's yours,” Harruq said as he forced back a couple planks sealing a window. “Ain't that right, Qurrah?”
“Whatever you say.”
Once the window was unblocked, the two climbed in. They lived in what had once been a large shed. The door was still boarded shut, but the window, well...
For two such as they, windows worked as well as doors.
They sat diagonally of each other so they had room to stretch their legs. Harruq unhooked his belt and placed his swords in a corner, brushing their hilts against his fingertips.
“I want to learn how to use them,” he said. “Think anyone will teach me?”
Qurrah laughed. “You'll find plenty who’ll teach you how to die by one,” he said. “I'm not sure about the other way around.”
Harruq shrugged. His mind kept replaying the fight with the orc. Untrained and unprepared, he had still won. What could he accomplish with training? How many might fear him if he had skill to match his strength and steel to match his anger?
“I know of a way,” Qurrah said, pulling at one of many loose strands of his robes. “A way for you to practice. You saw what I did with that dead body.”
Harruq nodded, disturbed by the hungry look in Qurrah’s eyes.
“I did,” he said, “and it scared the abyss out of me.”
Qurrah dismissed this with a wave of his hand. “With exposure comes understanding. I am always in control, so don’t fear what I do. But I must learn, Harruq. I have no school, no teacher, nothing but scattered memories of my wretched master when I was nine. Nevertheless, death... death has a way of teaching us things. I can sense its power so clearly in its presence. I need it. You must give it to me.”
Harruq crossed his arms and stared into the corner.
“People die every day here,” he said. “Shall I find their bodies and bring them to you?”
“For now,” Qurrah said. “Yes. If the death is fresh, the power should still linger.”
Harruq reached out, grabbed his brother's wrist, and clasped his hands in his.
“I won’t like it,” he said. “But I’ll do it for you.”
“We are better than them,” Qurrah said, standing so he could look through the cracks of the boards across the broken door. “Stronger. Life is for those who take it. I need you to understand this, brother. Together, we can become something great.”
“Like what?” Harruq asked. “What can we become?”
Qurrah's eyes twinkled, but he said not a word.
Guard captain Antonil marched through the street, leading fifty of his men marching in perfect union. His face was a portrait of stoic calm, but it was all a lie. His heart was troubled and he had not a soul to tell why. He held a proclamation of King Vaelor to the entire nation of Neldar. He had argued as best he could, but his words meant little. When Antonil asked that someone else deliver the proclamation, a frown had crossed the king’s smooth face and he had slammed his lotioned hand against a table.
“It will mean more coming from you!” the king had shouted. “They will know the seriousness of my order. I will not be flooded with spies, treated like a mere peasant, and then insulted by such blatant snubbing of my humble call for aid. Let them know I am king, my dear Antonil. Make sure they know.”
Antonil halted at the center of Veldaren where the four main roads of the city interconnected and a large marble fountain towered over all. Not bothering to call for silence or attention, he unrolled the scroll and shouted its edict. Because of his rank, the troops in attendance, and the overall respect given to the man who had engineered the city’s successful defense only days before, he was quickly given a respectful silence.
“By order of the King, all elves are to be removed from Neldar lands. They shall not travel within our cities, live in our settlements, or trade with our people. They are banned in all possible sense of the word. They have abandoned us, so let us abandon them. These are the words of your King, Edwin Vaelor, and may they never be forgotten.”
Antonil closed the scroll and then nodded for his soldiers to return to their post. Holding in a curse, he headed to the royal stables. He needed to speak with Dieredon and personally break the terrible news.
Qurrah smirked as the guard captain hurried away.
“Elves banned,” he said to his brother. “Amusing, though unnecessary. Only handfuls live within these walls, and they are just diplomats and messengers. Our king is a spiteful, paranoid one.”
“Not my king,” Harruq muttered loud as he dared. He meant to say more but stopped as another man neared the fountain. He was large, well-muscled, and scratching at a long beard that stretched down to his belt. In a massive voice, he shouted to the mulling throngs.
“The royal guard is in need of able-bodied men to help rebuild the walls of the city,” he shouted. “The work will be hard, but we offer a threepence of copper a day. Come to the castle and ask for Alvrik.”
He repeated the message three more times and then wandered back north.
“A threepence,” Harruq said. “We could eat well for weeks.”
“The king must be desperate for workers,” Qurrah said. He raised an eyebrow at his brother. “I take it you're interested?”
“I'm strong enough for whatever they want from me,” Harruq insisted.
“We have no need for money.” Qurrah reminded him. “We take what we need. We always have.”
“My days are spent in boredom and you know it,” Harruq said. “How long will they offer that much coin?”
Qurrah popped his neck, wincing as he did. “So be it,” he conceded. “Take the work…if they'll take you.”
This put a bit of a damper on Harruq's enthusiasm.
“Course they will,” he muttered, his frown betraying the confidence in his voice. “Why wouldn't they?”