At the thought of his brother, Qurrah felt his stomach tighten. He could hear Harruq talking with Aurelia, an elf he had befriended over the past few months. He was smitten, though he seemed oblivious as to how badly. Their talk was of small things, purposefully avoiding the conflicts of the prior day.

A pleasant smell teased his nostrils. His stomach rumbled noisily. Qurrah finally coughed and stirred, alerting the two to his awakening. Noticing the movements, Harruq trudged over, food in hand.

“Morning,” he said, handing him a plate full of sausage, lettuce, and buttered bread.

“Did you abduct a cook while I slept?” Qurrah asked.

“Courtesy of the elf,” Aurelia said, walking over. “And finally you’re awake. Hurry and eat.”

Qurrah took the plate and sampled a bit of sausage. The warm food stirred his stomach. He couldn’t remember when he had last eaten. He rammed food into his mouth, not caring about any sort of manners. Aurelia watched him, a small frown tugging at the corners of her mouth. Qurrah seemed pale and drained, his muscles almost non-existent as they clung to his bones. He looked like a pathetic caricature of his brother, one drained of warmth, joy, and trust.

But not strength. Aurelia knew well the strength the half-orc hid, powerful necromancy honed to a fearful precision at the hands of his master, Velixar. Both brothers were half-orc, half-elf, and that mixture seemed to have unlocked a strange reservoir of power for the two of them. Many elves had fallen to them in battle, overwhelmed by blade and magic.

“Careful there,” Aurelia said as Qurrah nearly choked on some lettuce. “I can make more if you’re hungry. I never expected you to out-eat your brother.”

A wave of her hand and the plate refilled. The brown sausage steamed as if just taken from a fire. Qurrah stared and shook his head.