Adam froze in front of the training grounds of the war council, his wide eyes locked on the titanic Gate. How and where was it connected?
An orc warrior wrenched the chain cuffed around his wrists, growling. "Move, human!"
Adam stumbled, dragged into a jog between dummies and armored guards until he entered the building. After crossing a short corridor, one of the warriors behind him kicked the back of his knees. As soon as his knees hit the ground, the warrior's thick fingers found the back of the skull, forcing his gaze to a throne of blades and bones.
Strong fingers clutched the rusty pommel and the beast skull forming the armrests. The figure leaned forward, his features concealed by a brown leather hood. He noted ten more thrones occupied by warriors beside it. They glared back at him, their brows arched and their tusks glinting over their dismissive grins. Behind them, shamans sat on their chairs, hundreds of red eyes curved beneath their hoods.
