The Last Primal

At first, Aiden simply ignored what the old man was blabbering about. However, his attention was grabbed when he suddenly mentioned a 'Grotto', a special place that is further beyond the tribe's grounds… That may be the place he was actually hoping to find!

With his attention now grabbed, Aiden turned to look at the old orc, who kept grinning at him with his hideous, wrinkled dark grey face, sitting on the ground next to him. Forcing to return his sudden kindness, Aiden smiled back, giving his best, friendliest smile he could muster.

"[Goblin] Please tell me more about this Grotto, this 'Sanctum' you just mentioned. Just as you guessed, that is indeed my destination, the reason I came here." 

The old man pumped his skinny right arm in the air triumphantly upon hearing the confirmation to his conjectures from the goblin.

"[Goblin] Haha, I knew it! I knew someone of your caliber wouldn't come to this useless tribe's last-ditch effort to survive! These bastards are doomed, I tell ya, doomed! They can't accept the fact that the main horde has pretty much given up on them, and just sent them on this mission to die out!" As he spoke, his expression soured and as he turned towards the tribe's direction, he spat spitefully on the ground. 

"Ptooey!" Then, he turned back and looked mostly in front of himself, to the ground as he continued with a much gloomier tone. "[Goblin] You know, this tribe used to be different. WE used to be different. Not this barbaric, savage, brainless mob of monsters that has no more place in the world of the living, but way back…"

The old orc let out a sigh, as he continued to be lost in his own gaze, probably reminiscing about a much brighter past.

"[Goblin] What happened?" The goblin's inquiring voice came from next to the old man.

Hearing the question, the old man let out another long-winded breath of air and continued to dazedly gaze into the large bonfire still crackling proudly.

After a short while, he opened his mouth and in his raspy, aged voice, he was about to recount a tale that, at least for some small bits, Aiden already had a small insight, thanks to the absorbed orc's memories. Looking at the old man, an idea popped into Aiden's mind.

"[Goblin] Well… It's not an easy tale, and my goblin dialect might not be good enough to tell the story correctly…" He sighed, getting increasingly lost in his memories.

However, the next words, surprised him enough to pull him back from his reverie.

"[Goblin] Tell me the story in your original, Orc language. I want to listen to your story in your own tongue, in your original telling."

Turning away from the bonfire, the old man gave an incredulous, doubting look to the goblin.

"[Goblin] Are you sure, little guy? I know you are much smarter than the average, but to listen to it in orcish…"

Aiden gave a friendly, kind smile and instead of answering, he silently nodded, motioning for the old man not to worry and start recounting his tale. Meanwhile, inwardly, he was focusing already, his focus was on the old man's every word. Previously he noticed that the language of the orcs was either too simplistic or held too many similarities to the already analyzed languages, as the progress was relatively fast. With some luck, he would be able to listen to the old man's tale, and by the end, would be able to join in as well… 

Even if not, getting the language unlocked in his system, and being able to understand this growling, throaty language would be incredibly beneficial to him for his current mission.

The old man sized up the small goblin one more time before he finally acquiesced. In the end, it didn't matter if the little goblin would understand him or not, the matter of fact was, that by telling his story, he was hoping to let out his emotions. He felt guilty for all that happened, he knew that what happened was his fault, his greediness, his stupidity was what caused his tribe to fall. He made them pack up and leave the safety of their mountain, to join this demonic horde to create an idealistic world and a space for their own.

It was a foolish dream, a fruitless hope that was destined for failure. He was sure of it now. This world, this dark, cruel, unforgiving place held no place for their kind.

Taking in a large gasp of fresh air, the old man slowly exhaled it, whilst he collected his thoughts.

Eventually, as he was lost gazing at the bonfire, he opened his mouth and began to recount the tale, in his raspy voice. Compared to before, his words were alien, seemingly unintelligent to Aiden. The old man, agreeing to his request, was speaking in Orcish.

"[Orc] Thwarg, uiog rouy mnjraghanhst warghthasg raga…" 

His words sounding nothing more than throaty gurgles, without anything coherent for Aiden's ears to pick up. Still, his system immediately kicked in, calming Aiden's increasing agitation that it was rapidly processing the language.

At first, the old shaman stopped after some small sections and looked at the goblin if he was still following along. Seeing his apt attention as he was focusing on his every word reassured the old man, and soon he was completely lost in recounting his own tale. 

Just as Aiden was expecting, the system picked up the pace, and the progress made leaps and bounds, rapidly closing on the 100% mark.

Eventually, the progress reached completion, and just like back in the goblin's the text changed and was informing Aiden of the creation of the desired language skill.

Just like with the analysis, even the skill creation only took a fraction of the usually required time. Aiden wasn't certain if this was a result of the similarities with some of his already known languages, or if the system just got better, or if there was anything else in play… Regardless of what the cause was, the fact was that whilst the Old Orc was still seemingly deep in recounting his tale, he got the necessary skill to be able to understand and converse with yet another species.

Minutes passed, and seemingly unbeknownst to the old man, Aiden was finally prompted by a familiar bell-like sound ringing inside his mind, informing him of a new message. A message that told him that he now possesses the very much appreciated skill: [Language: Orc]. 

A small smirk began to creep up on his face as he read the message. He now gained the ability to understand and even discourse with the orcs, giving him a potentially very powerful tool to tackle any upcoming situation now and in the future!

The old shaman also noticed the sudden smirk creeping up on the goblin's face. Not sure what could have caused it, he stopped in his tracks, and asked out, forgetting to switch back to the [Goblin] dialect.

"[Orc] Hey, what's so funny goblin? Mind telling me?"

As soon as he spoke, he realized he talked in his own language, and that the small guy would probably not understand him at all. He was about to correct himself and translate it to the goblin's language when to his shock and surprise, the little guy opened his mouth and spoke in clear, and perfect Orcish.

"[Orc] Don't worry about it, I was just reminded of something. Please, continue with your story."

The old man was utterly shocked. Yes, he might have agreed to tell the tale on his own, but he wasn't expecting the little guy to actually understand anything about it. It didn't really matter anyway, and just as he thought, just the mere fact of letting his emotions out felt therapeutic, refreshing. He felt as if a huge burden was slowly being chipped off from his shoulders and giving him that much-needed breath of fresh air. 

It was a refreshing, rejuvenating experience. His old, aged bones made a lot of mistakes, -some worse than others-, over the years in the pursuit of power, but ultimately, he didn't mind most of them. What he did regret and would do anything to be able to fix, was the moment when he agreed to join the horde. That was the point when he personally ruined the tribe, the exact moment in time where the fate of his people, his tribe, his legacy was ripped out from history and thrust into the pits of doom. 

The lords he decided the serve, those 'beings' didn't give a shit about their race! Why would they? They were nothing more than cannon-fodder, warriors to be used and thrown to the frontlines. That's where they belonged.