Avalon

Avalon—Sanctuary of the Heroic Spirits.

Hidden deep within the Spine of the World, this heaven-sent land lies within the massive mountain range at the northernmost edge of the entire Faerun Continent.

Stretching from the Sea of Floating Ice all the way east to the Great Ice Sea, it spans the entirety of the northern reaches of Faerun. No one knows the true scale of the Spine of the World; since ancient times, no one has ever managed to cross it. Many speculate about what lies beyond: some say crossing the range leads to the realm of the gods, while others claim there is nothing there but endless void, for it is the edge of the world.

People know very little about the Spine of the World, save that the air is thin, the cold is bone-chilling, and few forms of life can survive there.

Guided by the spirits of the ancestors, the Prophet Garul discovered Avalon within this forbidden zone. It possesses distinct seasons, grasslands, rivers, lakes, and forests. It is hard to imagine such a place exists deep within the Spine of the World.

The orcs of Avalon have lived and multiplied here for thousands of years. While the land is home to many ferocious beasts, there are no other intelligent life forms besides the orcs. To Solam, Avalon appears to be a massive basin deep within the mountain range, though the specifics remain a mystery—everything is merely a guess based on the knowledge from his past life.

When the orcs first arrived, their situation was dire in the extreme; every clan was reduced to a group of the elderly, the weak, the sick, and the disabled. The Bloodaxe, Blackpeak, and Frostblade clans had lost all their men in battle, leaving only women and infants in swaddling clothes. Thus, although these three clans have always enjoyed a lofty status in Avalon, they are not actually large tribes.

Take the Bloodaxe Clan, where Solam resides: after thousands of years of recuperation, its population has only just exceeded 2,000. Of course, this is also determined by the low birth rate of the Avalon orcs—one must know that orcs in the outside world are notoriously prolific.

Perhaps it is true that the land shapes the people; the orcs of Avalon are taller and stronger than their external kin, lacking the chaos and bloodlust of their cousins. However, their fertility is truly lackluster. Take Solam's second uncle, Trick, who stands before him: he has been married for nearly ten years and still has no children.

In truth, this is the norm in Avalon. It is rare to find someone like the old chieftain who could sire three children. That is why the old man is considered a legend—not only can he fight, but he can also reproduce.

Second Uncle Trick is the clan's head hunter. This title wasn't bestowed by his father; in orc society, such things aren't handed out. If you lack the skill, no one will pay you any mind, even if your father is the chieftain or the prophet. Thus, Trick's ability is universally acknowledged. He is the clan's premier hunter, and in terms of hunting craft, he is far superior to Solam's eldest uncle. Of course, fighting is a different matter; Solam's eldest uncle, Karut, is the strongest warrior in the tribe besides the old man.

Trick isn't particularly tall for an orc, but his eyes are as sharp and piercing as a falcon's. His muscles aren't as brutish as those of other warriors, but their tautness makes one think of a black panther hunting in the forest, ready to explode into action at any moment. Add to that the three scars on his face, and he looks like someone not to be trifled with.

Solam and Krum stand before Trick, both feeling a bit nervous. There is no helping it; this second uncle has never been one for expressions, possessing a serious and earnest personality. It isn't just children like Solam who feel this way; even the other adults in the clan are reserved in front of Trick, fearing a scolding.

Trick looks at the two youngsters, his gaze remaining sharp, though he feels a bit of inner frustration. Krum is one thing—he can be treated however, as his parents don't care and he can be drilled to the bone. But Solam...

Yesterday, when Granny Karom heard Solam was going hunting, she ran to his father's place and threw a massive tantrum. Had she not been restrained by others, the seemingly kind old lady would have drawn her heavy flail and had a real brawl with the old man. Don't let her age fool you; she is older than the old man, but her ferocity makes even him shudder. It wasn't until Solam promised repeatedly that he would be careful and run away the moment he encountered danger that the old lady finally calmed down.

The old lady only left after making Trick promise repeatedly that he would protect Solam's safety. However, the look she gave him as she left still makes Trick's scalp tingle. He dares to swear to the spirits of Avalon that if Solam were truly injured, the old lady would absolutely smash that heavy flail—weighing dozens of pounds—right onto him. The sight of his own wife and sister-in-law looking at him with red-rimmed eyes while giving their instructions also makes him exceptionally nervous; if any accident were to happen, he would never know a day of peace again.

"Hoo." Trick casts aside his distracting thoughts. It is what it is; what else can he do but teach? Besides, like his father, he doesn't believe his little nephew is as frail as he appears.

"Now, you will follow me to learn how to hunt. I have only two requirements: first, keep everything I tell you firmly in your hearts; second, be extremely, extremely careful. No matter what, never let your guard down." As he speaks, he points to the three scars on his face. "This is the price of letting one's guard down. I got off easy; at least I didn't lose my life." He proceeds to recount the origin of the scars: "I was young then, hunting in the great forest with a few other hunters from the clan. We encountered an Alpine Snow Leopard and spent an entire day chasing it until we shot it to the ground. I was careless, thinking that since the leopard was wounded and had been chased for a day, it had no strength left to resist. I didn't pay much attention, but the beast was actually playing dead. I got too close, and as a result, I nearly lost my life."

One must understand that hunting is not a social dinner; it allows for no mistakes. Furthermore, Avalon is not exactly paradise. Before the orcs arrived, many other creatures lived here, and few are easy to deal with. Every year, hunters are lost to the hunt. Caution is never a mistake.

Solam and the others aren't just learning hunting techniques; they are also learning how to identify poisonous plants and how to avoid crossing paths with dangerous creatures. It is true that orcs are warlike, but when hunting, one naturally seeks out easy prey. Orcs are not smart, but they aren't truly stupid either. Going out of one's way to hunt ferocious beasts isn't hunting—it's suicide.

In Avalon, the winter winds and snow are quite formidable. During that time, hunting becomes vital for the nomadic orcs. Since they cannot graze, the beasts they hunt become a crucial source of food. Therefore, every male orc must learn to hunt; it is a combat skill, and more importantly, a life skill.

And so, Solam and the others began following Trick to learn the hunt. From then on, the clansmen could see them every day, carrying massive battle-axes and running after their second uncle. Sometimes they would bring back small game like rabbits or squirrels, but more often than not, they returned in a disheveled state. However, the others grew accustomed to it; everyone had gone through the same thing.

Come to think of it, Solam had strong opinions about having to carry his battle-axe every day. Picking it up was fine, but using it for combat was a joke—the thing weighed at least eighty pounds. Just carrying it made him pant, let alone fighting; it was a complete burden. Most of his disheveled states were caused by being dragged down by this wretched axe. Yet, the old man wouldn't allow him to leave it behind, claiming that a weapon is a warrior's second life, and asking if anyone could be unfamiliar with their own second life.

So, although Solam thought this was complete nonsense, it was useless to argue. He had to carry it, treating it as weighted training.

Two years later.

Winter arrived in Avalon. Shortly after the season began, heavy snow blanketed the entire land. Beasts that stayed in the mountains during the summer migrated down with the arrival of the snow. Alpine Goats, Snow Deer, and Giant Strength Deer, usually rarely seen, all ran into the forests at the foot of the mountains to forage. Naturally, the ferocious carnivores that lived above the snow line also descended into the forests to spend the winter. Thus, the danger level of the forest rose by several notches in winter.

The Frost-Free Valley is a valley on the eastern side of Avalon. Because the cliffs on both sides protect it from wind and snow, the Bloodaxe Clan comes here every winter to ensure their livestock can survive the brutal season in this sheltered harbor.

In the tent area of the chieftain's family, the sky was just beginning to brighten. Trick was rubbing his hands together, pacing back and forth in circles, looking at his tent with a nervous and anxious expression. One must know that the second son of the chieftain was born with a "poker face"—he was always expressionless, which made everyone else fear him. Seeing any other expression on his face was a pipe dream. But at this moment, no one cared about that. The old man and Karut were also standing outside the tent, looking on nervously and glancing toward the outside from time to time.

From within the tent came the occasional pained cry of a woman, accompanied by the comforting and encouraging voices of other women, while women carrying hot water moved in and out.

"They're here, they're here!" Suddenly, the voice of Aunt Solari came from the side, and she was seen supporting Granny Karom as they hurried over.

"How is it? Has the baby been born?" Granny Karom asked Karut, who had come to greet them, without even a preamble.

"Not yet. She's been screaming, but it just won't come out," Trick replied hurriedly, then asked nervously, "Will something go wrong?" He didn't even give his eldest brother a chance to speak, though Karut was in no mood to mind at this moment; he, too, looked at Granny Karom with anxiety.

"What could go wrong? It just means the child is growing strong and is having a hard time coming out. It's fine, I'll go in and take a look." Granny Karom offered a few words of comfort before she and Aunt Solari entered the tent.

Hearing Granny Karom's words, Trick seemed somewhat pacified, yet he continued to watch the tent nervously. His eldest brother patted him on the shoulder: "It's fine. Granny is here. Zaira will be fine, and the child will be fine too."