Surgehammer

Bahri Oshannus waited on the seawall, watching the horizon. Nahla found him there and told him their father had planned to refuse Portia Nyr when she asked for help hunting Praetoria's secret but never returned from that meeting.

Brother and sister stood in the salt wind, held each other, and bled tears.

They left at first light from their family's coral castle, riding the chop of the Colossus Ocean. Near the headlands, they met the jade-skinned orcs of the Duratuk Nation. The standoff nearly turned to blows until the orcs spat Jicarilla the Rime's name in disgust.

Weapons lowered. Oaths were traded. They marched together.

Bahri brings close work. His warhammer hunts weak points in the line, slipping through combat's confusion to crush soft targets. He moves on a typhoon of seawater, dropping in to strike before surging back to wash rot from an ally's wound. His water magic mends split plates and failing joints until armor sets and holds.

Even with the jade orcs beside them, the sea answers Jicarilla first. The tide turns cold and strange. Bahri feels it in his hammer's weight.

Two marid and a borrowed line of orcs won't be enough.