Edge of the Abyss

The song had returned to the pus filled scar. Weeks ago this was where The thunderous scales watch as his clutchmate, Quar-toc, had fallen. He swore vengeance for his brother.
The drake leading the song had stopped, putting her nose to the ground. She was hunting for something familiar. Her eyes widened, finding her prey. Scales smelt it too. In His first battle as general, the twilight glades was a grand victory. He believes it was that very scent which roused his his men to securing the portals.
He turned to the silverspines, their scales ever hardened from past battles. " Pork is back on the menu boys." The ancients each gave a grunt. The primes listening in gave a roar. Scales raised his battle axe and marched onward.
They made it to the clearing. Past this point, nothing but stone and earth survived the heat from the scar. The song pressed forward, thriving in the searing vents of fire. Scales breathed easy knowing his men were rejuvenated from their last battle. This heat reminded him of home, where his family raised him and Quar-toc the runt. Quar-toc had joined the song as soon as he turned of age, rising in the ranks faster than his brother.
In the distance Scales saw a familiar figure. An orc he had watched be eaten by his drake. The skull shaped helmet and metal plated boar stood there, watching his approach.
How was this possible? As far as necromancy goes, raising the dead only brings them back as puppets. But here he stands, unblemished from rot and leading his men. He began his march, his band of drummers leading the chant. "MOTGA" BOOM BOOM "MOTGA" BOOM BOOM.
It was time. No longer did he lead from the shadow of his brother. He raised his army to new heights. He earned his warrior name.
He was Quar-thun, Kell of the song. And he will protect these lands.