The One-Eyed Worg: II (With Special Guest Appearances by The Goresight Vanguard and Friends)
Lirshar hovered about the map covered table again, her dark brow furrowed in thought. She bit down on her lip, tusks protruding out further as she frowned.
“It will have to be Nagrand.” She announced at last.
“I see no other choice.” The rest of the room, while filled with members of the Vanguard, was unusually quiet. Lirshar felt alone in the crowd until Duron piped up.
“I did mention that the terrain in Terrokar would probably be easier to cross, I believe we can take it.”
“And I hear you, Duron, but who will guard Nagrand if we move Southeast into the Forest? If we take Nagrand first, nobody will ever know that we’re on the move.”
Dagrim shook her head in disagreement on the other side of the room. “
They already know that we’re doing something, otherwise they wouldn’t have sent spies.”
Lirshar grunted in response.
“That is fair enough, but the point remains that if we move South or North, either of Maja’s Lieutenants could move into flank us. If we take out her support in Nagrand first we will be establishing safe middle ground between Terrokar and the Blade’s Edge Mountains.”
“I follow you, Warlady. Wherever the Spirits need our aid, I will be there,” Duron consented.
“When do we start bashing heads in?” Piped up Drumgar in the back, standing with a flask half in his mouth.
“Whenever it be de right time to do so.” Mokaku nodded sagely, shifting in his seat to make his tall frame more comfortable.
“Patience is required in dese matters.”
“Hey Sis! Can we do it yet? Huh? Huh?” Juna asked, grinning all the while.
Lirshar planted her palm on her forehead and couldn’t help but smile.
“You’re an insane lot. But you’re my insane lot.”
“That’s why you love us,” Juna replied.
“I never said I didn’t,” Lirshar said.
“Now then, with our first target chosen I suppose I should give you information about the location. Truth is, I took out the Bear and tried to track the Spies’ footprints. They moved west and then I lost them because of the water. He wasn’t being careful to conceal them, but the weather was not cooperating.”
“Did I…miss something?” Drumgar asked, letting out a belch as he scratched his stomach.
“Yeah. Your brain is missing. You should find it.” Dagrim snorted.
“Shut up.”
“You first.”
Lirshar sighed again. Sometimes leading the Vanguard was a lot like taking care of a pack of pups. Both were things she was both familiar with, fortunately.
“Allow me to explain so that everyone who was not present will be up to date on information,” she began.
“Yesterday, Duron encountered a cultist spy.”
“How’d you know he was a spy again, Duron?” Red Dog asked, trying to make sure she was on the same page.
“He looked like one, I’m sure,” Kera Flourfist added in quickly before Duron had a chance to answer.
Duron shot the mouthy Baker a glare and looked to Red Dog.
“He used my surname when I hadn’t given it to him. He had previous information about me. Not really bright to mess up like that.”
“Anyway, Duron figured out that this Maak Thunderbellows was clearly a cult-“
“Duron could just be famous, couldn’t he?” Red Dog inquired.
“Not as famous as Drumgar’s appetite.” Juna chirped.
Lirshar coughed into her fist, waiting for order to come back to the group. She wasn’t about to try and talk over them. They were too loud for just her one voice. Duron only needed to continue his glare. The only thing that didn’t silence was the growling stomach of Drumgar who just shrugged.
“What?” He asked; but the issue wasn’t pressed any further than it needed to be.
“As I was saying, for the third time now, Duron found out this cultist’s identity and got some information from him. The cult is currently being led by Germak Pyregrip’s heir, Maja Fireheart.”
“That’s the freak that wore the pink dress and had pigtails. Attacked us on a boat once.” Dagrim added for good measure.
“Yes. She’s strange, to be sure. Now that this is established, I shall continue. Maja is holed up somewhere in Shadowmoon Valley. With that said, we cannot make a move on her at this time. She has three Lieutenants at her disposal with bases located somewhere in the following areas: Nagrand, Terrokar Forest, and the Blade’s Edge Mountains. The general idea is that if we take these Lieutenants out, Maja will have no back up when we move to attack her. If we cut off all the heads of the Cult at once, there will be no one to take over. Essentially, my Warriors, the cult should be dead for good with no chance of ever coming back.”
Lirshar looked around quickly to make sure there was nothing anyone wanted to add in. Several of the Vanguard did open their mouths, but Lirshar’s scowl was enough to keep them quiet for the time being.
“Shaman of the Vanguard, I need you to gather your resources. These lands are vast. If we are to find the enemy bases we will need the guidance of the Ancestors. If they can give us any clue at all we will send out a patrol by either air or foot to see what information can be gathered about the Lieutenants before we strike against them. I want to be cautious about this. Wisdom and courage together win battles.”
“You got that one from Mom.” Juna said under her breath.
“If there are any questions about the conflict, or any thoughts that you wish to share, please feel free to come speak with me. If not, then merely prepare yourself for what is to come. I will ask that all the Shaman or anyone with a connection to the Spirits answer to Duron for the time being. He and Mokaku will be in charge of organizing this ritual. Let me know how it goes.”
“We will do right by de Spirits an’ de Vanguard, Warlady.” Mokaku said sternly, his gaze lifting from the floor to look upon Lirshar’s face. It was the face of one determined Troll.
“I know you will. Now, make me proud.” With that said, Lirshar turned on her heel and exited the tent. Things were starting to look interesting. With battle looming on the horizon, the Warlady couldn’t help but feel excited. Her hands clenched into tight fists.
“Come on, Bear. Let’s go hunt something for dinner.”
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The Red Dog: II
Zila sat by the waterfall, legs crossed and arms folded over her chest as she tried her hand at meditating. The One-Eyed woman, Lirshar, had told them that battle was coming. It wasn’t that Zila was particularly nervous, or even particularly bothered by fighting; in fact she loved it. The problem was that Zila couldn’t stand all the closeness going on around this place. Everyone was so friendly and lovey-dovey and open about themselves that it really made her want to be ill. Most of the time she filled with sharpening her sword or harassing Drumgar for the hell of it, it beat getting attached to the people she would be fighting alongside.
She was surprised, really. Friendship was a dangerous thing during times of War and conflict. She had never seen anything good come out of relationships of any kind. Sooner or later someone was going to die and there was nothing you could do about it. Why become close to anyone if you were just going to lose them or they were going to lose you? Best stay casual about everything besides the battle itself. She would have to call things off with Drumgar.
Whatever strange relationship they had, Zila was not ready for it. It was too much. She was not worthy of calling anything her own. If she could not keep her Worg or Father safe, she had no right to any other Orc. She was too unstable of a mate.
The others had already been taunting her in a way, telling her that she could do better than him. Really, she probably could have if she wanted to. But there was something about him that was as gentle as well as ferocious. Something that she couldn’t entirely shake out of her mind. Maybe he was flawed, but so the hell what? She was flawed too. Everyone was flawed. Nobody was perfect here. Who were they to judge what was her own? No, not that choice of words again. It had to end. But how to end it? What would she say?
Dear Drumgar, I don’t want to see you anymore? You didn’t do anything wrong, but I hate you anyway because this is weird?
That just wouldn’t suffice. It wouldn’t work at all. He deserved a straight answer for being so blunt and honest with her, but she just didn’t have one to give. Just like she had no name to share. There was nothing she hated more than liars, but withholding information was different than lying, wasn’t it?
Zila inhaled deeply, and then exhaled, unfolding her arms. She reached over and unsheathed her sword, resting it across her lap.
“You are the only friend I need. You are my redemption and my vow to conquer that which has imprisoned my kind.” She ran a finger along the edge of the blade, slicing open a thin layer of skin to make sure the sword was still good and sharp. It was, for a tiny crimson line appeared on her flesh where the sword had passed over it.
She smiled at first, relishing in the sight. The smile soon turned into a distraught frown, however. It was nothing to grin at. Spilled blood was the reason she was here in the first place. Spilled blood was why she sought redemption. The gore and the carnage should have disgusted her, for it was everything that she had caused and become back in Ashenvale.
Damnit. Still too weak to resist it. Why does the Bloodlust linger so heavily inside me?
Zila rushed to wipe the blood off on the grass, sheathing her sword at her hip as quickly as she could. There would be time for that later. Once the Shaman were done with their ritual the Vanguard could move into battle, hopefully. The idle time was agony for her and her twitchy sword arm. It was also really a pain for her light coin purse.
She really was looking forward to the pay from this mission. It was going to be the foundation for the “my chopper is better than Drumgar’s” fund. Now Zila really smiled. Yeah, she couldn’t wait to see the look on his face when she pulled up next to him on a chopper of her own. His bike, his one true love be damned. Zila could ride. She would be free of Drumgar one way or the other.
But part of her didn’t want to be.
A small part.
A really small part.