Raruk and Gorik arrived at the Great Hall in due haste. Inside, they found Boruk and the other seasoned warriors gathered around a rge, round table made of bck stone, veined with silver.

  “Brother,” Raruk called out. “What’s happened?”

  “You’re finally here, Raruk,” Boruk answered, his tone edged with annoyance. “Are you done pying with that, creature?”

  “None of the sort,” Raruk replied curtly. “What’s the situation?”

  In response, Boruk id out a rge map of their territories across the table and traced his finger along the northern border.

  “Our scouts sent a rider through the night. They spotted a rge group of Oruks passing through here,” he said, pointing to a narrow pass between the Twinfang Mountains.

  “That’s already too close.”

  “Indeed. I estimate they’ll reach the Snowshade Forest in two nights’ time.”

  The warriors around the table snarled, baring their fangs and clenching their fists.

  “Those bastards! Do they think they can just hunt and steal from our nds?”

  “Have they forgotten who we are?”

  They all roared, all cmored, all except Raruk. He stood silent, cupping his chin as he studied the map.

  Boruk noticed and stepped closer. “What are you thinking, brother?”

  Raruk’s brows furrowed as he met his brother’s gaze. “It doesn’t make sense.”

  He pointed at the map again. “Gorik mentioned the scouts identified them as the Iron Tusk cn, right?"

  “Yeah, that’s right. They wore iron armor adorned with red tusks.”

  “Then that means they came from Ironcd Mountain,” Raruk said, tapping a mountainous region on the map. “The closest forest to their stronghold is Bckroot Hollow.”

  Boruk paused. This was why he trusted Raruk. Any other Oruk would already be rallying to strike. But Raruk was different, he observed, calcuted.

  He would look through all possibilities, study every angle.

  “If they just wanted to poach,” Raruk continued, “they could’ve gone to Bckroot Hollow. We don’t even have an outpost there.”

  “Maybe the Hollow’s been emptied of game?” asked Tharn one-eye, one of the older Oruks present.

  “No,” Raruk replied, firm and certain. “We hunted there just a few moons ago. There's still sign of beasts.”

  Boruk crossed his arms, nodding slowly. “You’re right. It doesn’t add up.”

  “Why travel towards a farther forest and risk getting spotted by enemy scouts?” Raruk said, voice low. “Unless…”

  He trailed off.

  Boruk leaned closer. “Unless what?”

  Raruk looked up, eyes narrowing. “Unless they wanted to be seen.”

  The room fell into a tense hush, the gathered Oruks stirring, growling in quiet arm.

  Raruk’s voice was low, but it cut like a bde. “They’re not here to hunt. They’re here to draw us out.”

  Boruk straightened, his eyes narrowing. “Why would they want that?”

  Raruk looked him dead in the eye.

  “They want us far from Dushkka'l.”

  The silence was instant—then shattered as Gorik growled, “You mean to say—”

  “Yes,” Raruk interrupted. “This is a decoy. A false warband sent into Snowshade to bait us into mustering our full strength and marching north. Meanwhile, the real strike force circles behind and heads to Dushkka'l.”

  Boruk stepped back from the map, his jaw clenched.

  “They pn to take our home.”

  “Indeed so, brother.” Raruk said, gncing over everyone.

  "Then, what should we do?" Inquired Gorik, his hand resting worryingly on his axe, "Even if we know they're aiming for Dushkka'l, we can't just---"

  "Yeah, we can't just let them have their way with our territories." Raruk interjected, "Other cns will see it as weakness, then they'll come swarming like flies on a carcass."

  Boruk smmed a fist on the bckstone table, sending a sharp crack echoing through the Great Hall.

  “Then we split our forces,” he growled. “Half to Snowshade to crush the decoys. The other half stays here, hidden in wait.”

  “No,” Raruk said firmly. “That’s what they want. A divided cn. Half our strength won’t be enough to repel an attack on our outpost if they come in force.”

  “But if we send all our warriors north,” Gorik countered, “Dushkka’l will be ripe for the taking.”

  Raruk turned, pacing slowly around the table. “We need to deceive them as they’ve tried to deceive us.”

  The gathered warriors listened, breaths low, tension coiling.

  “We pretend to take the bait,” Raruk said. “Let them believe we’re marching north. Instead, we'll send a small force north to meet the enemy, set up false camps, light fires in the woods, have scouts run visible patrols through the pass. Make it convincing.”

  Boruk’s eyes lit with understanding. “Meanwhile, the real warband lies in wait near Dushkka’l.”

  Raruk nodded. “Exactly. We’ll turn their trick back on them. And when their main force comes to take our home…”

  “…we crush them,” finished Boruk, a savage grin forming.

  He then gnced over to Gorik, "You'll take 20 warriors with you, and meet the enemy head on. You don't need to beat them, you just need to stall them."

  "But we can beat them, Raruk!" We'll take their heads back to Dushkka'l!" protested Gorik.

  "No," Raruk stood firm, "we cannot afford to lose any warriors, stay inside the outpost and stall them, once we defeat their main force, we'll reinforce you."

  Boruk cpped Gorik on the shoulder, the weight of command heavy in his grip. “You’ll do it, brother. Hold the line. Make noise, light the fires, and let them think we've fallen for their trap.”

  Gorik’s jaw tightened. He wasn’t used to restraint. “And when they press us hard?”

  “Then press back, just enough to keep them guessing,” Raruk said. “But no heroics. We need you alive more than we need their skulls.”

  "And you dare call yourselves Oruks?!"

  A voice resounded inside the Hall.

  Tharn snarled as he smmed the butt of his axe on the ground, "This is not our way, where is the honour in this?!"

  Raruk turned toward Tharn, his expression cool, and unreadable. The old warrior’s single eye burned with fury, and his tusks bared in contempt.

  “There is no honor,” Tharn growled, “in hiding like rats behind walls, spinning lies like cowards. The Iron Tusk should be met head-on and crushed! That is the Oruk way!”

  The room stirred again, several of the warriors nodding, others uncertain. It was a challenge—direct, public, and heavy with the weight of tradition.

  But Raruk did not flinch.

  “No,” he said quietly. “We cannot afford honour, not right now. If we get stuck in our way, we'll lose.”

  “You dare—”

  “I dare survive,” Raruk snapped, his voice rising, cutting through the cmor. “And if survival means ying a trap, then so be it. If it means thinking like our enemies—outwitting them instead of blindly charging to our deaths—then that is the way forward.”

  He stepped closer to Tharn, nose to nose, voice low and firm. “Or do you still cling to your ‘honor’ while our enemies cim our nds? Our home?”

  Tharn’s jaw clenched. He was old, proud, but not stupid. He knew Raruk’s words carried truth. Slowly, reluctantly, he stepped back.

  “Watch your tongue, boy,” he muttered. “Wisdom and cowardice often share a mask.”

  Raruk didn’t answer. He turned to the others.

  “We are Warwulf. We fight with fury, but not without wit. We are wolves, not cattle. We do not throw ourselves into traps like mindless beasts. We spring them.”

  Boruk stepped forward then, his voice echoing through the hall.

  “You’ve heard him. This is the pn. We will make them believe we are fools. And then we will make them pay for it.”

  A rumble of approval surged through the chamber. Even Tharn gave a begrudging grunt.

  Gorik stepped to Raruk’s side. “I’ll take the scouts to the pass. They’ll see our fires burning by dusk.”

  Raruk gave him a slight nod, and a firm hand on the shoulder. “Good. Be quick. And make sure you’re seen.”

  As the warriors dispersed, the Great Hall began to empty. Only Boruk and Raruk remained, staring at the map once more.

  “You’ve done well, brother,” Boruk said at st.

  Raruk didn’t look up. “No. I just remembered what we once forgot.”

  Boruk studied him. “And what’s that?”

  “That survival,” Raruk said softly, “is the only true honor left to a dying world.”

  "Should we at least send a rider to father?" Asked Boruk.

  Raruk paused, he stared into the fire, deep in thought. "No, there would be no need of that, the battle will be over before the rider even reaches father."

  Outside, the war horns began to sound. The trap was being id.

  And the Warwulf Cn would be ready.

  “Let’s see who out thinks who.”