Chapter 6: The Path of Revenge

Grommash and I walk along the winding road, the forest gradually thinning out. The birds sing their morning songs, and the scent of pine fills the air. I decide it's time to share more of my plan with him.

"My goal," I begin, keeping my voice steady, "is to get revenge against my family and the Spider Queen."

Grommash glances at me, his interest piqued. "Revenge? What did they do to you?"

I hesitate, not wanting to reveal too much. "They wronged me in ways I can't forgive. The Spider Queen... she rules with cruelty. My family... they are part of her web. They need to be taken down."

Grommash nods thoughtfully. "I understand. Revenge is a powerful motivator. I'll help you, Morren, whatever it takes."

We continue our journey in silence, the weight of my words hanging between us. Eventually, the wooded path opens up, revealing the village of Raventhorne. The village is larger than we expected, with a horse stable at the front for adventurers to store their steeds. Behind the stable are many huts and buildings, including a blacksmith's forge, a small marketplace, and several modest homes.

As we enter the village, the locals give us wary, passive-aggressive glances, especially directed at Grommash. His presence as an orc makes them uneasy. Ignoring their stares, we make our way through the village, asking around for the informant, Luthor.

The search leads us to the local tavern, a bustling establishment with a weathered wooden sign swinging in the breeze. Inside, the air is thick with the smell of ale and the sound of raucous laughter. The tavern is dimly lit, with wooden tables scattered about and a bar stretching across one wall. In one corner, a small squabble breaks out, but no one seems to pay much attention.

I spot Luthor at the bar, drinking and observing the scene with a detached interest. He is a tall man, bald, with a tattoo of a raven on his neck. We approach him cautiously.

"Luthor?" I ask, my voice low but firm.

He turns, his gaze sharp. "Who's asking?"

"My name is Morren," I introduce myself, leaning in closer to him. "And I've heard you're the man to go to for information."

Luthor's eyes flicker down to where my hand trails up his thigh in a suggestive manner. I lean in even closer, my cleavage tantalizingly close to his face.

"We need information," I continue, my voice low and seductive. "And I'm sure we can come to some… arrangement."

Luthor hesitates, his resolve wavering under my persuasive tactics. Finally, with a reluctant nod, he agrees. "Alright. What do you need to know?"

"I want to know how to take down the Spider Queen and her followers," I say, my tone still dripping with allure. "Specifically, the Gani family."

Grommash remains silent, his presence alone a testament to his support.

Luthor's eyes narrow. "That's a tall order. The Spider Queen is not someone you take down easily. But I do have information that could help. Not here, though. Meet me behind the tavern at midnight. It's sensitive information."

I agree, and we leave Luthor, finding a table to sit down and have some drinks while we wait. The ale flows freely, and Grommash and I settle into a long conversation.

"Never been much of an ale person," I admit, taking a cautious sip from my mug. The bitter taste makes me grimace.

Grommash chuckles. "It's an acquired taste. Some of the brews we had back in my clan were strong enough to knock you out with just a whiff."

I laugh, the sound surprising even myself. "Sounds like a challenge."

As the conversation continues, I start to feel the effects of the ale. My words begin to slur, and I can sense Grommash watching me with a mix of amusement and concern.

"You alright, Morren?" he asks.

"Yeah, yeah," I reply, waving a hand dismissively. "Just... haven't had ale in a while. It's... strong."

But the ale loosens my tongue more than I intended. Before I realize it, I'm recounting my past, my voice thick with emotion. "My family... they were cruel. The Spider Queen, she... she was worse. I was just a child, and they... they did things. Hurt me. Used me."

My mind drifts back to the dark, dank alcove where I grew up, surrounded by the twisted shadows of the Underdark.

I remember the jeers, beatings and taunts of my family, the way they mocked me for being different, for having a light side within me. They ridiculed me for my two sides, for the uncontrollable dark side that I struggled to keep contained.

In one particularly vivid memory, I find myself cowering in a corner of our alcove, tears streaming down my face and pain coursing through me as my family looms over me like dark specters. They sneer, kick and laugh, their words like poison-tipped arrows that pierce my heart.

"You're nothing but a weakling," they taunt, their voices dripping with contempt. "A disgrace to our kind. No one will ever fear or respect you, Morren. You're destined to be a failure."

The pain of their words cuts deep, leaving scars that never truly heal.

Grommash's face hardens, his eyes filled with anguish and a growing hatred for those who wronged me. "Morren, I'm so sorry. No one should have to endure that. I swear, I'll follow you on this path of revenge to the end."

Tears blur my vision, and I wipe them away hastily. "Thank you, Grommash. It means a lot."

Realizing I'm making a scene, Grommash quickly says, "We should go. This meeting feels off, and we don't want to draw any more attention."

In my drunken state, I stubbornly refuse to leave. "I'm fine here."

Grommash sighs and gets up from his seat, grabbing me and throwing me over his shoulder as if I were a child. "Sorry, princess, but we're leaving."

I demand he put me down, but he defies my orders, carrying me out of the tavern. As we pass through the room, I see the few remaining patrons, some still drinking, others passed out.

We find a spot in the alleyway behind the tavern to wait for Luthor. I sit down, my back against the tavern wall, trying to sober up. The cool night air helps clear my mind, and I look at Grommash with a mix of gratitude and embarrassment.

"I'm sorry for what happened in there," I say softly. "I probably shouldn't have told you all that."

Grommash sits beside me, his large frame a comforting presence. "It's okay, Morren. You needed to get it out. And I'm glad you trust me enough to share."

We talk quietly for a few more minutes until Luthor finally appears, flanked by three dark-hooded figures. I stand up, sensing the danger.

"We've been set up," I hiss to Grommash.

We turn to run, but more figures block the other end of the alley. Grommash reaches for his hammer, doubt flickering in his eyes. Before he can draw it, an arrow strikes him in the waist. He looks down, shocked at the sight of his blood.

"No! Grommash!" I scream, my voice echoing through the alley. I trace the trajectory of the arrow, spotting an archer atop a nearby building. Panic floods me, and I turn back just in time to see a dagger hilt coming straight for my head. The pain is sharp and immediate, and everything goes dark as I collapse to the ground, helpless.