Cost of a Life

[ChampionMouse]

The Red Dog: I

“What is the cost of a life, Zila?”

“I don’t know.”

“What gives you the right to take it?”

“I-I don’t know. I am a Warrior. That is what we do.”

“But what is the price you pay? What makes you worthy of passing judgment?”

“I-I never said I was worthy! I just wanted to survive. Is that so wrong?”

“I do not know. Is it? Right and wrong are inventions of morality.”

“Why must you keep speaking to me in riddles? Please, just give me my absolution. I want my life back.”

“Your father might have asked you for the same thing.”

“Shut up! You were not there. You couldn’t know what it was like. The gurgling, the groans. The damn Elves would have found us if I hadn’t ended him.”

“Then why do you ask for absolution if you are so ready to justify your actions?”

Somewhere in the distance Zila could hear Heartfang howling to the brightness of a full-moon. The black sky lit up, made sovereign by the crown of radiant silver light that was above her. It was a sad song to hear, not like the ferocious howls that warriors in the throes of the blood-lust had made. Longing was entwined with betrayal, and betrayal entwined with hate. Ebon webs of malice and fragile bonds of loyalty had all been weaved together by her sword hand. She looked down at it, her palms covered with dark red splotches of blood. No matter how dark the night was, it would always be there. Never would those hands be clean of wrongs.

The howl soon turned to a fading whimper. All the sounds again. The gurgles of slit throats and the whines of gutted dogs. Zila was walking through Ashenvale every night. There was no escaping the accusatory noises, nor the questioning of the Shaman that had tried to make her think on her actions all those years ago. She could not run from the nightmares or the desire for vengeance against the Elves anymore than she could fly.

“Don’t let me die here, daughter…it is not my time.”

“You’ll be a good raider someday, pup.”

“We must always stick together. Loyalty is what defines us.”

“No! No! I won’t listen! You’re gone! I am no Shaman, speak not to me!” Zila let out a blood thirsty cry, reaching up with her hands to slash the images and the intangible sounds away. When she woke on top of the hill in the Barrens she was sweating. The fire had nearly died out, but her skin was damp with stress and fever. Embarrassed, she got to her feet and made sure that her traveling companion was still fast asleep. She must have dozed off in the middle of her watch which just served to make her even more pissed off. It was fortunate that nothing had happened upon them up there on the hilltop. She grabbed some of the extra wood they had gathered earlier in the day and fed it to the dying embers. She stacked it all together in the shape of some kind of triangular tent, blowing on the glowing remainders of the coals. It took several puffs and breaths, but the wood eventually caught and she got the fire going again.

She sat back down on her bedroll, wiping the sweat from her brow with her forearm. The nightmares had been coming more frequently as of late. It must have been the presence of all those Shaman. First there was that Troll. Mokaku had been his name. He had lied to her and played what he thought was a funny joke. Telling her he could see the future and that he swore he had seen crows. She had been nervous about the presence of carrion scavengers in the visions of a Shaman, but Mokaku had been quick to assure her he had just been screwing around.

Then there was Duron. Apparently he was some friend of Drumgar’s. Zila wasn’t sure what she thought about him. He seemed nice enough, but he was so distant. So…calm. Nothing much seemed to provoke him. It was like something outside of him gave him some ability to be mentally unaffected by mundane troubles. That bothered her for some reason. How the hell did anyone stay calm when there was just so much going on in the world?

Drumgar was the only one that actually made sense to her. He was real. Confused, wild, an idiot, but real. She didn’t particularly like him either, but he tolerated her fits of rage well enough and let her ride around in the sidecar of his bike. She liked that. The way the wind would fly through her braid. She could just sit back, kick up her feet and let him lead her places. It was kind of a fun arrangement that she was satisfied with for now. Drumgar had told Duron that he was going to go to Outland with him and help him beat down some cultists that were up to no good. At this point, Zila was pretty sure she would end up tagging along. It wasn’t like she had anything else to do.

“How many more must I kill until you forgive me, Father?” She whispered to her sword. “How many more are worth the lives of my loyal Worg?”

She sighed and bowed her head. There was no tolerating weakness. If enemies of the Horde needed killing, she would be there. Orcs or no, absolution could only come from her blade. She was mostly convinced of that. Mostly.

[ChampionMouse]

The Snake: I

Reka propped herself up by the elbows and looked at the snoring, sleeping mass of Orc next to her. Even with a pile of pillows and furs to place over her head and ears she couldn’t drown out the sounds. By this point she had heard enough. Reka sat up fully and promptly leaned over, slapping the sleeping Orc across the face with a stinging blow.

“Get the hell out, Korek. You’re making too much noise for my liking.” She said, placing the palm of her hand over her mouth to stifle a yawn.

The large Orc sat up with a start, his eyes already looking for his axe. “What happened?”

“I slapped you awake, idiot.” She stated simply.

Korek rubbed at his face. “The hell did you do that for?”

“I told you, you make too much noise. Your snoring is atrocious.” Reka turned away from him, pushing the furs off of her body to dangle her legs over the side of wooden bed frame.

“Don’t be like that with me, Reka. You know you can’t do much better than this. They all know you for a Traitor. Doesn’t matter how fancy or sweet you talk to them, you’re always going to be a Laughing Skull.” Korek moved after her, attempting to place his lips along her neck and up to her ear. His breath was heavy with anticipation, and still stank of the grog they had shared the previous night. “Why don’t you just settle down with me. I’ll take good care of you. I’d make a good mate, we can have some strong pups I bet.”

Reka clenched her hand into a tight ball before raising her arm. The fist went careening back into Korek’s nose. There was a cracking sound and he shouted in surprise. Blood dripped from his right nostril, quickly oozing down onto his upper lip.

“You think you’re so sly. You think you’re better than me?” He howled and moved forward, reaching out to seize her shoulders with his large hands. She didn’t move, merely sat there and allowed herself to be turned around as Korek started yelling. “You’re lucky there is no honor in beating you senseless woman, otherwise I’d teach you some courtesy for your Elders.”

He spit as he spoke, his saliva spraying onto Reka’s clean face. She closed her eyes, blocking him out. He smelled awful to her now. Even as a distraction she was surprised that she had brought him back to her bed in the first place.

“Are you even listening? Do you hear what I’m telling you woman? You’re nothing! You have nothing! Stop with the damn games.” Korek snarled at her, the sticky wet blood passing beyond his upper lip now. He hadn’t bothered to wipe it away yet, so it just kept coming.

Reka’s eyes flicked open.

“Well?”

“I’m bored. Are you done lecturing me yet?”

Korek was fed up. He shoved her back, pushing her at least an arm’s length away. The giant Orc got to his feet, grabbing his possessions as he moved about the room. If anyone knew how to get dressed angrily, it was Korek. Reka tried not to smile in amusement, but it was difficult.

“I’m done with you. I’m done with your lies and your games, Reka. If you want me you know where you can find me.” Korek was quickly gone out the door of Reka’s meager, but well decorated hut.

Reka fell back into the pillow pile with a sigh, hand snaking under a particularly plush number that she had actually gotten from one of those Blood Elves. They knew luxury at least. Reka pulled a leather pouch out, pulling the drawstrings open in order to look inside. “Ten gold? Korek you sly dog, walking around with that much on you is a sure way to get robbed.” Reka laughed to herself, shoving the pouch back under the pillow.

Truth be told, she was bored. There needed to be a change. But what? Sure she could continue this way and amuse herself, but for how long? She could hear Korek’s voice in her head, “I’d make a good mate,” It said. Over and Over.

“Maybe for some idiot with no aspirations.” She grumbled to herself. “My life is worth more.” It was time to cause a little mayhem. Reka didn’t know exactly what she had in mind for herself yet, but the wheels in her head were already turning. Something had to be done before she ended up tame and empty like everyone else.

[ChampionMouse]

The One-Eyed Worg: I

Lirshar scowled as she looked down over the parchment pieces in front of her. Her one good eye scanned the words over and over again, reading off a list of names that she recited aloud to the half listening and meditating Duron in the corner.

“Dagrim, Tusin, Juna, Drumgar…” She trailed off, shaking her head again. “I don’t know if it will be enough, but it will have to be. I’ve delayed our leaving for as long as I dare.” She set the papers back down and rose to her feet, folding her arms behind her back as she paced back and forth across the room. “There are others, but I feel as though I don’t know my own soldiers as well as I ought to. I’d like to think that there will be time to get to know them on the road, but I do not wish to risk it.”

Duron remained quiet, letting Lirshar sort through her own thoughts. It was a comfortable arrangement that they had. More often than not Duron knew when she actually wanted advice versus having an ear to listen. He was good to her, and she was happy having him nearby when the stress got to be high. The entire notion of organizing soldiers was still a learning process for her and she had a tendency to second guess herself far too often than she was okay with. A leader needed to know what they were about. Lives depended on it. She paused in her pacing, bringing up a hand to trace the jagged scar that ran across her right eye.

“Bah. It is childish to doubt myself at this point. If none of you had faith in me, you would not fight for me nor call me a friend. Am I right?”

Duron gave an absent-minded nod.

“Of course I’m right. That’s it then. I’m sending out messages to all those we have recruited over the past several weeks, Duron. It’s time to get moving. The Vanguard is heading to Nagrand. There is evil there that we have yet to finish our business with. I won’t have them lingering about this world for much longer.” Saying the words aloud made Lirshar feel happier. Had she not been in a confined space, the seasoned Hunter might have yelled the words with barbaric glee, but now was not the time. Best save that energy for motivating the troops.

Several paces sent her back to the table, looking down on the mess of parchment yet again. “Garadar does seem the best place to set up camp for a while considering that at least you and I have been there before. The locals have always tolerated our presence well enough due to the fact that we’ve helped them in the past.” Lirshar pushed some papers out of the way so that a large map became available to her. She spread the thing out over the table. “The city walls and extra eyes will do us good. Everyone should be able to get sleep so long as we stay here. Once we’re out in the fields though we’ll have to organize watches. Dagrim has good eyes; I know that from working with her. We can put her in charge of any scouting parties that we may need to send out. I trust her judgment in stealth and reconnaissance.” Lirshar smiled a bit. “She was always yelling at us back in the day for running ahead blindly and getting stabbed or caught in traps.”

Lirshar followed one of the marked roads on the map with her finger. “Scouting Nagrand will be the first priority. I know you wanted to stop and pay your respects to the Spirits anyway.” She scratched her chin in thought. “Why the hell hasn’t someone thought to send Draknir a message to let him know about all of this? I’ll have to get on that.” She turned her attention back to the map. “Hmm, anyway, I think the tricky part is going to be what happens when we move out of Nagrand. All the information I’ve been getting leads me to think that we’re heading into Shadowmoon Valley. I’m not as familiar with that terrain, so I’ll need someone to find us decent shelter if they can. That is one place where I’d rather not risk having a vulnerable camp in the middle of hostile territory.”

Lirshar pushed back from the map again and moved to the fire in the center of the room that was breathing smoke out through a hole in the roof. “So much to do, Duron. I’ll take care of those letters if you get on to organizing the soldiers as they arrive in Orgrimmar.”

Duron appeased his mate with another nod.

“Good. Thank you. I am eager to be done with this enemy.”

[ChampionMouse]

The Seer: I

The land was cracking and breaking again. Floating islands lifted up from the ground they once belonged to, claiming their independence in the midst of a foreign sky. Waterfalls came pouring down from a blue horizon instead of a river. This place defied the very rules of nature that the Elements had put into place. Where was their power? In truth, the world was dying. At least this one was. She should have recognized Nagrand right away, but it was different than the Nagrand of her oldest memories.

Her blue eyes scanned the grassy fields that rolled on endlessly before her. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary except for the black smoke in the distance. She followed after the omen, feet shuffling along. She felt small here, using her staff to part the tall grass that got in her way. It kept growing as she moved until she was the size of an insect. Small and insignificant to the large picture, but yet necessary as all things are in the cycle of life and death.

The journey exhausted her. Her tiny legs could not carry her far through this grassy maze. The meadow was an enormous obstacle from this perspective.

“DESTROY AND CONSUME.”

She thought her eardrums would burst from the booming voice. The sound enveloped her like some kind of crushing hug. Her skin burned, her eyes stung, and she could not breathe. She dropped to her knees in a coughing fit, shielding her mouth and eyes with her hands as best she could while attempting to regain her composure.

“Who goes there?” She managed to call out at length, lifting her eyes from the walls of grass that surrounded her on all sides.

“I AM FIRE. DO YOU DARE CHALLENGE ME?” Came the voice again.

A wave of nausea swept through her and she covered her mouth. The voice alone was almost too much for her in this diminutive form.

“No, Fire. I do not challenge you. I have come to see.” She muttered in response.

“I CANNOT HEAR YOU, MORTAL. SPEAK TO ME WITH STRENGTH OR DO NOT SPEAK AT ALL.”

Another coughing fit had her sitting down for at least a minute. Her throat was sore and hoarse from the effort, but she was not about to lie down in the middle of the field while so far from home. She touched the point of her staff down onto the ground and used it to prop herself up.

“Fire!” she called as loudly as she could, “I did not come to challenge you! I have come to see!” She said again.

“TURN YOUR EYES AWAY, FARSEER. THE FIRESTORM IS COMING AND I WILL CONSUME ALL IN MY PATH.”

With these words uttered, the world of grass began to shudder. Mochla tilted her head up to see the Fire Elemental towering above her, and the world of grass that she was confined to.

“TO BATTLE!” It cried.

And this time the cry was answered.

Fire Elementals began to come from all directions and the grassland was set ablaze. The air became thick and heavy with the black smoke she had only seen in the distance earlier, and Mochla could not see at all now; for her eyes stung too badly. Sparks flew, and everything burned. The veritable Firestorm began to consume the world.

"BATTLE!"

"BATTLE!"

"BATTLE!"

"BATTLE!"

Somewhere, in the midst of the cacophony of sound, Mochla could hear Air crying.

“Please, don’t let them do this to us too…”

Mochla sat up in her pile of furs clutching at her chest. She half expected to be suffocating, but she was safe within her home. Something was not right in Nagrand she reasoned at once, but what? She sat very still in the darkness, closing her eyes in thought.

“Nagrand is where Lirshar, Juna and Duron went…”

She sighed and grabbed her staff, hobbling about the hut. A random assortment of meats and breads were getting tossed into a sack.

“Can’t an old woman get some peace and quiet in the middle of the night? Pups and their dangerous adventures. Bah.” She grumbled to herself. “I’m getting too old for this; but if those bastards think they are going to harm my family, they’ve got another thing coming.”

Before the sun began to rise, Mochla was on her way. One sure-footed step at a time.

[ChampionMouse]

The Unscrupulous Rat: I

Maja made her way down the torch lit rocky hall, running a gloved hand along the cavern wall. It was damp and musty within this place, and even through her leather gloves she could feel the moisture and slime that had taken to growing upon the stone. She was small for an Orc, so these caverns suited her well. Her armored escorts frequently had to duck within the tunnels, but she could carry herself proudly with her head up high. As they moved deeper and deeper into the network of underground tunnels the torches became more numerous. They lit the way well enough, though the shadows they produced twisted and turned as though wracked with pain.

Maja clenched her hand a bit, digging her finger tips into the stone wall. Dusty debris fell down to the floor, echoing all down the vast corridors. Up ahead was a large boulder sitting in the middle of their path. Maja made a clicking noise with her tongue and motioned to the boulder with a crane of her neck.

“Move it.”

The Orcs with her were all too happy to oblige her and moved forward. They positioned themselves on one side of the boulder and, working as a unit, pushed and grunted until the large rock was moved aside enough to allow them passage. Maja hardly gave them a nod of thanks or any recognition at all, she was moving through the previously blocked archway before they could catch their breath.

The room that the boulder had been protecting appeared to be a dead end for the most part. A small underground stream trickled through the center, and the water dripped over rocks, pebbles, and dirt. It left a light coat of mud on the ground, but fortunately this place did not smell as foul as the narrow corridors through which they had come due to the high ceilings. Maja looked about to make sure everything was in place as she made her way towards the back center of the open cavern. There was a large chair waiting for her, cushioned with a plush pillow; but the rest of it was carved of bone and metal. All around the chair were candles of varying colors. They had apparently been lit for a while now, for they were practically drowning in puddles of their own wax. Flickering violently; the flames shifted and cast those ominous shadows just as the torches had done when Maja passed by to plop herself down on what was presumably her chair.

Other Orcs began to gather in the room, all of them standing before her. She would wait patiently, for once, until the shuffling of feet died down before she began to speak.

“Several years ago we lost our leader Germak Pyregrip to meddling fools. The time has come to make things right. I, Maja Fireheart, Daughter of Germak do hereby assert my right to take his place.”

A general murmur of sound went up through the gathered crowd.

“If any of you have a problem with this you can speak now and make your death go by that much faster. If not, then we have work to do.”

The murmuring died down abruptly.

“Excellent. Now, why did my Father fail? Anyone have an answer to that?”

One lumbering Orc stepped forward and bowed his head. “I have an answer if it pleases my lady Maja.”

“Speak.” She commanded.

“Germak was a great commander, good Maja, but he tried to do too much at once. He spread our resources thin and boasted of his power to New Horde Loyalists. They grew bold at his taunting and his deeds, and they found a way to end him and cut off his h-“

“Enough!” Maja raised her hand to silence him, clearly agitated. “You speak of my Father, you worthless Peon.” Maja snarled, her dark red eyes flaring in anger as she regarded the Orc speaking before her. “We, as a Faction, have learned from the past. We have done no boasting, have not advertised our whereabouts to anyone, and yet I hear rumor that a group of these so called New Horde Loyalists are already deployed in Nagrand!” She hissed angrily and took several deep breaths. “Will someone tell me what they are doing here and how they found out about our location?”

Everyone looked at one another, shrugging their shoulders in confusion.

“I’ll remind you all right now that traitors will be killed much slower than those who openly admit to their fragile bonds of loyalty.” She sighed deeply, falling back into the folds of the grim chair. She drummed and rolled her fingers over the armrest.

“My lady, if I may…”

“Proceed, but do it quickly.”

“This group that follows us, I have it on good knowledge that many of them are accomplished Shaman. Might it be that they get their guidance from the Spirits or Ancestors?”

“It might be. If they think the dead will lead them to victory, however, they are mistaken. Tell me, if you know so much about these idiots that think they can walk into my territory and live, what do they call themselves? And is there a Duron Bloodaxe or a Kretol Earthshaker with them? I would have vengeance if they were present. Bloodaxe killed one of my sisters, and you all remember the Earthshaker Chieftain was the one who cut off my Father’s head and put it on display.” Her hands curled into angry fists as she recalled everything, and soon enough she brought her fists down onto the armrests of her chair, breaking off chunks of bone in the midst of her temper tantrum. “I want this information and I want it now!”

“I do not know, my lady Maja. There are some details that still need investigating.”

“Then find them out!” She bellowed back. “I will not have our goals sabotaged again. My Father’s dreams –will- become a reality. The Horde will go back to the way it was, and we will have this world the way we were meant to!”

This seemed to stir the Orcs into a passion. They raised their arms and howled her cheers and praises.

“Lok’tar Ogar!” They roared.

Maja visibly relaxed, crossing her legs as she made herself comfortable in the chair. Yes, things were progressing nicely indeed.

[ChampionMouse]

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.”

((I heart you guys. If you don't like how your character was depicted or anything at all please don't hesitate to let me know so I can fix it! Hope you enjoy. <3))

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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.

[ChampionMouse]

The Snake: II

Reka found a comfortable place to lay on her stomach by the fire. She had her parchment stretched out in front of her. It was rather early, or late, depending on how you looked at it; and most of the Vanguard that she had accompanied to Nagrand were resting safely in Garadar amongst the Mag’har. Reka clutched the quill gently between her large green fingers, staring down at what she had written so far. Art with words was difficult when the spirit of her father was looming over her. Damn Juna for having that ability, and damn her father for coming back to continue her “teaching.” But still, it must have meant something if her father’s spirit did not mean to move on. So long as it had a vessel to communicate with her through, he wasn’t going anywhere. This left Reka with few choices.

Killing Juna was an option. Probably the first one that had crossed Reka’s mind the most as of late. But it was so boring, so predictable. Have a problem? Solve it with murder. No, that completely lacked poetry and finesse and so it was of no interest to the she-Orc. Reka lifted the quill and rubbed the bottom of her chin with the soft feather.

Option number two was to deny her father and to tell him to go away. However, that option made her uncomfortable. As filled with contempt as Reka was for her father, this whole situation made mildly superstitious. Would the other Ancestors of her kind become angry with her if she did not respect her Elders in death? It was frustrating really. Having been a part of this new Horde and trying to blend in with all the ideals of the Shaman was so very difficult at times. Reka would have preferred to have things her own way. Forget baking, forget using the store as a front for other operations; Reka just wanted to create the most perfect piece of art there ever was.
Why was it that she was always doing something for someone else? Freedom was so elusive. It was so ironic, really. She was the most independent person that she knew. She could accomplish anything she set her mind to on her own. She didn’t need a mate, she didn’t need her Father or Brothers, she didn’t need the Vanguard either.

…

Reka sighed and rolled her eyes. Sometimes when you listed things in your head with some imaginary matter of fact tone it still didn’t help with the convincing. The truth was that she was having more fun than ever before. She was surrounded by people that didn’t know her name, people that assumed she was a baker, and people that were soon enough going to create a potential power vacuum by offing some cultists.

That left her with option number three. Why not go along with what her father wanted her to do for a time. Why not befriend the Vanguard? Why not go with them on their crazy adventures? And when the moment came when they struck down their enemies, Reka would be there too; either to congratulate them on a job well done or to pick up the pieces of the broken Cabal and turn it into something new. Something that belonged to her. Or she could both. Either way, this seemed to be the more interesting of the options.

There was nothing tying her to the Vanguard, after all. They were just sacks of flesh. They were not blood. Betraying them would only come natural. Reka frowned, putting the quill to parchment again. If that were so true then why did it leave some nasty feeling in her gut? Perhaps she would talk to her older Brother. Jurek was the head of the family now that father was dead. Even though Jurek did not speak much, he did possess a stoic wisdom that she found comforting. Most other people felt threatened by Jurek when he was around, but Reka always felt reassured. Yes, that could be option four. Ask Jurek about his thoughts. It was simpler than option three, but it would give her guidance. No matter how her brother answered, with words or with questions, she would have some direction. Jurek was important. He was all that mattered besides her own life. Her brother had always been decent to her, had always watched her back when he could. Perhaps it was time to reward him.

Perhaps it was time to reward herself…

Wrathful winds fly home
Searching for the flames of life
All they find is blood

[ChampionMouse]

The Unscrupulous Rat: II

If Maja’s temper tantrums had been bad before, this world was some kind of living nightmarish wasteland in comparison. Again and again she pounded her fist against the wall making rocks crumble into dust whilst she roared and bellowed in her anger.

“Tell me again how you all managed to be deceived by ONE STUPID TROLL!” She screamed, her eyes doing nearly the same. Her expression had so much volume that it almost looked as if her eyes would pop out of her head she was so livid. “One minute we’re talking about how we’re going to strike and have our vengeance, and the next thing I know these –pathetic- miscreants know about our base in Nagrand and are killing our soldiers?! HOW? WHY? Who the hell messed up?” Maja paused just long enough to catch her breath, a bit of spit clinging to the bottom of her lip where it had sprayed out and lingered during her tirade.

“Lady Maja, it was Maak Thunderbellows. You sent him out to find information and they say he went rogue in exchange for his life.”

“Why was he stupid enough to get caught? Why are all of you so damn stupid? Is there –anyone- who will not mess this up for me?”

“I will not, Maja. I will not fail you or the Horde.” Another Orc stepped forward, shoving the accuser of Thunderbellows out of the way. He was not particularly impressive in terms of height, but his muscles strained and bulged with each movement; barely contained within his flesh. Such a dense creature, so trained and meticulous in his careful motions.

“Ahh, Lieutenant Gutwrench. How nice of you to show up at this little gathering. Tell me, how do you plan on not failing me? How do you plan on keeping these meddling buffoons out of operations in Nagrand?”

“It is quite simple, Maja,” spoke Gutwrench calmly. “The minute they even try and march upon us, we will have all our weaponry aimed at them. Any classic frontal assault will fail miserably due to the weapons we’ve been creating in the old forge camps. You and I both know that all these younglings are good for is playing hero, charging in, and dying valiantly.”

“What about the Troll? I want to know how that Troll got so damned far.”

“That…was a mistake. My men were out patrolling and they must have not thought him hostile. We found their bodies, or what remained of their bodies, and chased him off. One of the wounded reported that his name was Tusin.”

“Tusin, Tusin, Tusin..” Maja repeated the name to herself slowly, letting the sound of the s slide off of her tongue into a bitter hiss. “I want this Tusin. I want him alive. He will answer for his actions. I would know a Troll who manages to infiltrate and murder almost eleven of my men. Yes. Bring him to me when you find him.”

“As you wish.”

“You said you found what remained of their bodies, Gutwrench, did you not? Tell me, how did they die?”

“It looked like some kind of explosion. We know at the very least he was using some kind of Gun.” Gutwrench stood with his hands entwined behind his back, eyes looking upon Maja with cold respect.

“Cowardly, but effective. You would do well to learn from this move on the enemy’s part. We now know that they have access to this kind of thing, which we did not know before. Make sure it does not happen again.”

“I will, Lady Maja. I have informed my men that anyone who approaches is to be considered an enemy until otherwise notified.”

“They had best learn that lesson effectively. I cannot stress to you enough how important the base in Nagrand is, Lieutenant. We need that base to more closely monitor our enemies. We’ll be blind without your eyes.”

“I understand.”

"What of the Elementals? Will they be ready to deploy into battle soon?” Maja eased in her tension, slinking back into her seat as she examined Gutwrench in return, measuring him up.

“The Fire Elementals are ready to be commanded in Nagrand, we only seem to be having a bit of difficulty with controlling the Air. It is…resistant to methods proven previously effective.”

“Bah. Let my Sister have the Air. We do not need it. Fire is good enough for all of our purposes. Have your troops ready to move within the week, Gutwrench. I will have no more delays in my plans.”

Gutwrench nodded, saluting Maja by slamming a hard dedicated fist into his chest. “It is done.”

“And don’t forget. Duron and Tusin are mine. Don’t spoil all my fun.” Maja cracked a smile at the thought. Duron, the man that had murdered her only full-blooded Sister, and Tusin, The Troll that massacred her men in what they were now calling “The Battle of Troll-fire”. How she couldn’t wait to have the two of them in her grasps. How she couldn’t wait to post Duron’s head on a pike like they had done to her family. Oh yes, things were going to be simply splendid. The younglings had no idea what was coming. Maja rolled her fingers together in delight thinking of their frontal assault gone terribly wrong. Poor younglings would be in trouble then, nowhere to run; nowhere to hide.

Maja was feeling confident again. Nothing could get her down with these thoughts of impending victory in mind. Nothing, except for perhaps the actions of a particularly crazy Vanguard and their friends. But they were far away for now, and Maja could only guess what they were up to.

[Hawk]

The Roaming Monk: I

Beneath the skies of Nagrand was Garadar, and in a roofless hut where the countless stars adorning the black veil of night were clearly seen was a lone Troll. Before him was a chess table, of all things. The pieces had been worn down from use, and there was a large chance that the game had not been played in a very long time. Mokaku wasn't particularly focusing on playing the game, however. His face was twisted in deep contemplation as he stared across the board with pieces perfectly set up on both sides, his hands clasped together and supporting his head. His single eye gazed intently at the board until he spotted a figure standing by the corner, though her features were darkened from the light of the torch casting a shadow over her. It was a woman, muscular and one who carried herself with pride. But yet she didn't approach the Troll immediately. She lingered by the entrance and eyed him up and down.

Lirshar perked a brow. "Didn't know you were one to play games by yourself." She stated teasingly, a smirk on her face.

In response, Mokaku shook his head. "I am not playing... I am t'inking." He paused in his speech. "Do you know how to play?"

"Uh... yeah, kind of. I was never able to win, though." Lirshar moved towards the empty seat that the Troll gestured to after his question.

"Irrelevant... we shall play a game. Victory is either checkmate... or de enemy's king is knocked over. Agreed?"

Lirshar nodded at him, agreeing to the terms and took the liberty of going first. She only assumed that, knowing she was familiar with the rules, Mokaku didn't mention the king having to be knocked over by the player as a sign of surrender. The next few moments between them were silent, save for the sounds of pieces being shuffled around the board in an elaborate dance of wit and tactic. Occasionally Lirshar frowned or grunted at the loss of her pieces, or her inability to take Mokaku's. But the Troll kept his calm, and it was obvious that he had played this game many times. It began tediously... the pawns being moved to give way for the stronger pieces. It seemed whenever Lirshar saw an open opportunity, it was only revealed to be a trap and she'd suffer more losses.

"What troubles you, my friend?" Mokaku eventually said. "You do not come to visit me often during dis hour." His eye didn't look up at her. It only remained fixated on the board.

Lirshar moved a piece diagonally and sighed, a look of defeat on her weary features. "What troubles me is... I can't find a way to beat the fire elementals. Even breaching the camp is going to be a challenge. But there is the matter of defeating a power that you no doubt are aware of it's destructive capabilities."

The Troll slowly nodded and took one of Lirshar's pieces. She cursed. "You and I are no strangers to war." He began. "War is often like chess. It has de rules of de game and wit' one outcome only: Victory or defeat. Whet'er de losses are great or small, de duration long or quick, or dere is a constant struggle where neit'er can attack one anot'er."

Lishar was running out of pieces. She grinned as she took one of his towers with her queen, thinking she was starting to get ahead. She let out another curse as her queen was then taken from her with a wolf rider. Mokaku continued.

"And like chess... one must know when to sacrifice de rook to take de queen."

The she-Orc infront of him slowly nodded. She understood the comparison perfectly, but she was struggling to see how this would lead on to her getting advice for the answers she sought. The fire elementals were going to be a problem no matter how she approached them, similar to how Mokaku was becoming harder to beat no matter what she tried against him. "Alright. I get what you're saying... but how does this help me?"

"Play by de rules of dis war and find your window of opportunity." At this, Mokaku then took his king that hadn't been moved since the beginning and took it all the way across the board and knocked her King away, onto the floor and put his in it's place. "I win." He stated, looking up at her afterwards.

Lirshar didn't play the game often, but she was sure as hell he couldn't do that. The Kings couldn't even move two paces forward, yet alone the entire board."How do you win?!" She exclaimed. "You can't do that move! It's against the rules of chess!" She frowned deeply, arms folded across her chest.

Mokaku lifted a brow. "Did I now? My rules stated dat you lost if your King got knocked over. I never put down boundaries or restrictions on how dat end could be achieved. You lost for not using it against me."

Lirshar's jaw dropped in confusion as she stared at the board, realising she had just been fooled. Her bases had been razed to the ground, the strongest troops of her armies slain in battle, her queen taken and defiled by the enemy... and in her very own court was the enemy king that had assumed her throne so easily and gained total dominance in her realm. She began to see how this would've played out if this had been a real war. Her losses would've been catastrophic whilst her opponent escaped with barely a dent.

"Do not be fooled into t'inking every war has de same rules. You must know your enemy, and learn deir rules. Den break dem. If you wish to thwart deir flames... you must bring water. If dey let loose de hounds, you set off de traps. If dey dominate de ground, you must control de skies.

De board is set before you." Mokaku smirked. "It is up to you how you move de pieces."

The One-Eyed Worg set one last look on the King that resided in her court and slowly got to her feet. "Thank you, Mokaku." She stood in the doorway, glancing over her shoulder at him, as if silently asking for one last word of wisdom.

"All elementals are crippled if subject to deir weakness. De earth is scorched by fire. De fire is doused by water. De water is swept away in de wind, and de wind fails to move earth's mountains. Cripple de elements... and den destroy de bracers dat keep dem summoned in Azeroth."

Mokaku slowly stood and nodded. Lirshar grinned, as if an idea was forming in her head before leaving his quarters.

[ChampionMouse]

The Seer: II

Mochla stood in the circle with the three Mag’har, closing her eyes and chanting in turn. The other Farseers had invited her to aid in the defense of the village, and she had taken them up on that offer. Before them now was a glowing circle, imbued with their power and prayers to the Elemental Spirits. The Mag’har of Garadar had not taken lightly to Tusin’s warning that the Cabal was planning on dropping corrupted Fire Elementals at them, so they were fighting back in the only way they currently knew how.

“Wind and Storm, by virtue free, lend your voice, your strength to me!”

“Earth and Stone, place we call home, we hear your pain, and sighs and groans!”

“Cleansing Water, by rivers and sea, protect the places dear to me!”

“Blessed Wilds, feral and pure, save these lives and give us the cure!”

The circle glowed brightly as they chanted one by one, taking their turns in quick succession as they cried out over and over to the Spirits they held most dear. They were searching for a way to save Fire. All of them could feel the pain and rage of the Elements as they were corrupted. So far, only Air remained completely free from the grasp of the Cultists. For that, at least, they were all grateful; but still it was not a comfortable situation for any of them. If the Cultists did indeed manage to unleash a torrent of Fire Elementals all at once, there was not much they could do to stop it. Who knew how long they had been plotting this? Who knew how many to expect? No, all they could do was chant and keep up their prayers in the hopes that at least Air would remain free to help them combat their foes. If they had any idea on how to free the other Elements, however, they were not speaking or showing.

Morale was not at its peak for the Mag’har, but Mochla was confident. She knew enough to trust in the efforts of her daughter and the soldiers of the Vanguard. With Lirshar’s bargain for the zeppelin coming together nicely, they were going to give the cultists a surprise they would never forget. And if any other Earthshakers decided to follow after her, well, they would probably rejoice in the chance to fight Germak’s bloodline.

The outcome of this battle had already been decided more or less. The only problem was that this outcome made Mochla sad; and sad was something the Farseer was not comfortable with. Sad was something that could not possibly be good for her family. With Gorioth around to watch over Lirshar, she felt a little more comforted, but the dread was still there. Perhaps even fear about what was to come. There were plenty of Elders around to watch over the young ones, including the Gerish that Juna had mistakenly thought her to be flirting with. Mochla began to rub at her temples with a free hand, massaging them in frustration. A pup should not have to worry about their parent’s happiness. That was not fair. She had never felt lonely until the idea of being alone all her life had been thrust in her face.

“Do not fear, do not despair. Put your faith in our might and you strengthen us.”

Mochla drew in a sharp breath, thinking of all the things she had dreamed of and seen in the past several weeks. Feelings would need to be pushed aside for the mission. Her heart belonged to only one, and nothing would convince her otherwise.

I believe, Spirits. Now keep them safe for me. All of them.

[ChampionMouse]

The Unscrupulous Rat: III

“GUTWRENCH!

“I can explain, Lady Maja…”

“DO SO.” Maja’s voice was a song of fire and fury and all of the troops were averting their eyes from her. She was only one woman, but she was a lion leading a flock of gazelle.

“I was on my way back to Nagrand when I got the message that the base had been attacked. It was not my fault that I wasn’t there.”

“Not your fault, you say?”

“No, my lady. I was not there.” Gutwrench frowned, he was walking on thin ice and he knew it. “You had called me here to explain the last attack; I scarcely had time to even start back when the message of the new battle got to me. My men managed to take out the enemy demolisher. Surely that will dent the Vanguard’s courage.”

“I do not care where you were, Gutwrench. Your men are performing poorly. This seems to be a consistent problem. I blame you.”

This was all Gutwrench could take. Maja may have been in charge of the Cabal, but she could not conquer his pride nor his sense of Honor. Honor was something the Warrior fought for on a daily basis, always striving for the glory of the Horde.

“If my men are performing poorly it is because they have been in your service, Maja.”

“You dare speak to me in such a tone, Gutwrench?”

The Warrior’s eyes lifted from the ground and he pulled his axe free of its bindings. With one swift movement he slammed the head of the axe down into the ground.

“Mak’gora.”

Maja got up from her chair and tilted her head curiously.

“You are serious?” Several of her guards moved to ready their weapons, but she waved them back.

“Mak’gora.” Gutwrench stated again, his red eyes focused upon Maja’s face. If he could take control of the Cabal from her, his deeds would be sung about.

“Then it will be your pyre. Let your suffering be a lesson to all those that cross and fail me.” Maja pulled her two matching axes free from their places at her sides before beckoning Gutwrench forward.

Gutwrench did not hesitate. His fury was insatiable. He would have his victory over this impetuous woman that had kept him down for so long. He would prove himself right here in front of them all. They would follow his leadership instead of Maja the Rat. Maja the Oppressor. Maja who ruled only because of her Father’s blood instead of her own strength. The Orc lifted his axe and brought it down for Maja’s head.

Maja caught his weapon between her own two, pushing back. One of her legs came out swiftly to kick in at his left knee. His leg buckled, but as he fell he managed to get his axe free and swing it in a perfectly horizontal line at his foe. Maja tried to move back out of the way, but she didn’t get all the way free. A line of blood appeared across her stomach, a straight gash that followed the path Gutwrench’s axe had gone in.

“You’re lucky it wasn’t a duel to first blood, Maja! Show these soldiers your weakness so they may revel in my strength!” Gutwrench howled at her.

Maja only smiled, drawing herself up to her full height. She closed her eyes and concentrated on her weapons, the axes soon igniting in an eerie orange glow. The troops murmured amongst themselves, wondering what she was up to. Germak had been a skilled Warlock, but they had never seen Maja use magic before. Had this been something she saved for such an occasion as this?

“Magic is for the weak! There is only blood and steel!” Gutwrench charged again, swinging his axe with his mighty hands.

Maja ducked lowly, very lowly, and swiped her weapons across his ankles. At first it looked like she had missed, but then the terrible hissing sound began. Gutwrench’s flesh, right above the ankle, began to sear and blacken. Then he was falling to the ground.

Maja rolled out of the way, taking her time to get back to her feet some distance away. She dusted herself off and looked upon her handy work with a grin. Gutwrench did not have feet anymore. All that remained were charred cauterized stumps of useless skin. His howls were not so bold now. His cries were those of terrible pain. The wails echoed across the cavern and Maja turned to regard her soldiers.

“Do not doubt me. This is what will happen to any of you idiots that try and defy my Father's will.” She snapped her gaze back to Gutwrench, screaming on the ground as his skin still steamed. “Crawl back to Nagrand if you can, Gutwrench. Live with your dishonor. Live with your defeat. Beg our enemies for mercy if they will have you. You are useless to me. Guards, remove him.”

Two soldiers stepped forward to life Gutwrench up in their arms and started marching towards the exit as he screamed all the way.

“There is now a vacancy. I need a new Lieutenant.”

[ChampionMouse]

The Turn Coat: I

It had been quite some time since Duron and Maak Thunderbellows had departed from Nagrand with the intent of making the journey to the Blade’s Edge Mountains. Maak’s father, Gutwrench the Legless as he was now being called, had assured Duron Bloodaxe that Maja’s lieutenant up that way was willing to negotiate some kind of temporary truce. Duron truly fascinated Maak. Here was a man that thought less than dirt of his family and their beliefs, and yet he was putting faith in them to make things easier for his friends, soldiers, and mate. It was moving; this display of trust, and Maak would not let it go to waste. Upon setting up camp for the night, on their first day making their way back to Garadar, Maak decided it was time to negotiate a truce of his home.

“Duron, can I talk to you?”

“Very well. Speak,” Bloodaxe replied. His eyes didn’t even lift up to regard Maak when he spoke, they were focused upon the newly created campfire that had sprung to life between his hands and was setting the kindling ablaze.

“About the negotiation you have made with Maja’s Lieutenant…”

“What of it?”

Maak huffed uncomfortably, sitting down next to the fire and scratching his chin. It was difficult to find the right words.

“Do you think you can trust him?” Maak eventually asked.

“Absolutely not,” Duron replied, sighing. “He may have agreed to stand down so long as we eliminate Maja, but a man does not take betrayal so lightly. There is something to be gained from this.”

“You’re right. I bet he’s probably going to wait until you lot kill Maja and then try and take over the operations. If you can eliminate the competition for him, then why should he bother?”

Duron sighed again, slouching a bit as he finally looked up to Maak.

“Most likely that’s exactly what’s going to happen. All we can do is try and use it to our advantage. I will speak with Lirshar and inform her of all we know. She likes to formulate plans.” Duron smirked a bit, warming his hands over the fire. “You must hate Maja after what she has done to your Father. Tell me, why did you ever follow her in the first place?”

“That’s complicated, Bloodaxe,” Maak grumbled. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”

“Try me,” came the retort.

“My Father grew up a Warrior, as many of our kind did. He lived through the glory days of the Horde and also the fall. He felt the fatigue and the despair of the internment camps. Once he was free, he met Maja. She came to us all, gathering support in small groups. One by one we listened to her. Who wouldn’t want to listen to her after all we had been through? She promised that we could return things to the way they were. When nobody would have dared to treat us with such disrespect. Father used to tell me the stories all the time; he was so nostalgic for those days. More than anything we just wanted to fight back. To prove that we weren’t animals ready to be caged. Maja and her Father promised all of us that a new age of prosperity would come to the Horde if only we were willing to give our all. At first there was some dissent to the methods, they definitely lost some Frostwolf recruits that way; but those that had tasted the blood in Ashenvale were not so easily dissuaded from that course of action.”

Duron frowned. As much as he disagreed with the methods, he knew all too well the pains of lethargy and hate. They were not so foreign to him back in those days. He reached for a waterskin, opening the top so that he could take a few sips of water and continue listening to Maak’s words.

“I suppose we all knew that it was dangerous to walk down this road, but the Elders reassured us that things had been like this once and it was for the best. We all came to believe that our actions were for the greater good. Maja often told us to think of the pups that had been orphaned because of skirmishes against the Elves. She said that our actions would make them safe forever. How could we refuse? I mean, I know that for someone who speaks with the spirits it must be different. You couldn’t ever consider the same path as the rest of us, but…can you at least understand why we did what we did? I do not ask you for absolute forgiveness, Duron Bloodaxe, but I do ask you for brotherhood and understanding. I promised I would fight for you against Maja, but I want to know that I do so in good faith.”

“You claim to be a Warsong brother. Why should I trust you anymore than Maja’s Lieutenant up in the Mountains, Maak?” Duron replied, studying Maak’s posture and facial expression.

“Because, Duron, I have no reason to lie to you. My Father is in serious condition. I do not know how long he will last in this state. He is my blood. Would you not wish to avenge your own Father?” Maak’s expression was more earnest than Duron had seen it before, the younger Orc was breathing heavily; clearly distressed with concern for his Elder.

“I would,” Duron said solemnly, closing his eyes. “But vengeance is a path one only takes when they are completely certain. I learned long ago that there are consequences for every choice, and if one is not able to accept those consequences, one is not ready to make the choice.”

“The only thing I have to lose by going against Maja now is my life, and I am no coward. I am a Warrior of the Warsong.” Maak let his fist thud heavily against his chest with pride as he sat up taller.

A faint trace of a smile crossed Duron’s stern face.

“Very well then. When we go to fight Maja in Shadowmoon Valley we shall do so as Brothers.”

Maak Thunderbellows couldn’t have been happier. His truce had been made, and somehow, deep down, it made him feel stronger and true.

[ChampionMouse]

The One-Eyed Worg: III

Victory tasted rather good that night. The Vanguard’s assault against the Cabal’s base went pretty much according to plan. There had been an unexpected twist with a giant corrupted fire elemental and some crazy volcano, but all things considered; her soldiers and even the volunteers had performed above and beyond her expectations. Lirshar smirked, looking around the deck of the zeppelin as it sailed across the dark sky.

“Gather round you lot,” Lirshar stated. Most of the Vanguard was scattered on board and talking about their recent victories. Lirshar had wanted to join them very badly, but there was still one more step in the process to take care of, and it was that step that dominated most of her thinking. She had been so intent on it that she had barely joined in the celebration back in Garadar.

Duron was the first to her side, followed closely by their new recruit: Maak Thunderbellows, former member of the Cabal. As Lirshar had come to understand it, it was Maak’s father, Gutwrench the “Legless,” that had originally run the base in Nagrand that they had destroyed. Maja’s hold over her troops was not perfect. These events could attest to that.

“You all made me proud in Nagrand, and soon we will have one more chance for battle against the Cabal. This is going to be difficult. I will not lie to you.”

“No battle dat is easy is worth winnin’…” Warlord Teztez piped in from the back, and the gaggle of Troll recruits around him nodded their agreement. Teztez was rather tall compared to most of them, save for perhaps the Forest Troll that they had saved from near execution in Silvermoon. For all of their differences in strategy, Lirshar had come to respect the Warlord. He had a way about him that almost forced it. He had seen much, and Lirshar was grateful that such a veteran of battle was willing to follow her down this path.

“You speak true, Teztez. However, right now I wish to get everyone up to date on what our next course of action will be.”

The Vanguard seemed to settle down, giving their full attention to Lirshar.

“Right. As most of you know, when we first came to Outland we discovered that the Cabal had three bases. One in Nagrand, one in the Blade’s Edge Mountains, and one in Shadowmoon Valley. It was initially determined that we would have to defeat them in a particular order so that we would not risk getting flanked by enemies when we turned Southeast into Shadowmoon Valley to find Maja. The plans have been slightly altered.”

Draknir tensed a bit at these words, but remained quiet. His hand only tightened around the hilt of his blade. The others looked a bit confused on this point.

“What do you mean, altered? The logic was sound,” Dagrim questioned. “We’re not getting reckless and just charging in anyway, are we?”

“A fair question, Dagrim. I will explain.” Lirshar folded her arms over her chest and frowned. “Maak Thunderbellows here, and his father Gutwrench the “Legless,” used to work for the Cabal. It was because of them that Duron managed to meet with Ogum Bloodhound, Maja’s lieutenant up in the mountains. Ogum is defecting and withdrawing his support from Maja’s cause. He agreed not to enter into battle with us should we move down to destroy Maja once and for all.”

The voices started up again, people muttering their concerns to one another. Tusin’s voice was the clearest to Lirshar at that point.

“Ey, uh, boss. What makes chu tink you can trust dem?” He asked.

“I don’t.” Lirshar promptly responded.

“Den why move south anyway?” He tilted his head to the side, watching Lirshar curiously. She must have had some kind of backup plan.

“Let’s just say some…old acquaintances are going to be keeping an eye on them.”

“Continue with your explanation, pup. It is getting late.” Gorioth chimed in.

“Ah, this is true. Forgive me for keeping you all up.” Lirshar gave Gorioth a nod and then looked back to the various members of the Vanguard. “Anyway, Ogum will be monitored by my associates while we move in to take out Maja. We are currently flying to Shadowmoon Village. According to Gutwrench, Maja’s headquarters are not too far from this location.” Lirshar unfolded her arms and clenched her fists as they dropped down to her side. “I cannot stress this enough when I say that we want our presence to go as unnoticed as possible for the time being. Do not speak to strangers and give them any information about our true purpose in the Valley. I have no doubt that Maja will be sending spies. Don’t even give them your real name. I ask this of you because we will have an extreme advantage if Maja does not know where we are, or that Ogum has rescinded his support. Several have already been killed helping us, I wish to keep their losses at a minimum.”

“Do we know de state of de elementals ‘ere?” Mokaku asked quickly.

Lirshar shook her head.

“We will have to do a series of subtle scouting missions to figure out a rough layout of enemy territory and magical capabilities.”

Mokaku nodded.

“Why don’t you all head to bed for now? I will take questions in the morning before we land in Shadowmoon Village.”

The bulk of the Vanguard wandered off to go find someplace to settle down and get comfy for the remainder of the zeppelin’s journey.

“I believe in you, my love,” Duron whispered softly, planting a kiss on Lirshar’s cheek.

“Thank you, Duron. It helps to hear that every once in a while.” Lirshar snickered to herself. “I was just thinking…who do you think would lead the Vanguard should I fall? Of all the rational backup plans to have, this is one that I’ve never taken the time to think about. I suppose thinking about my own demise was just not something I cared to face before now.”

“Why are you thinking about it now?” Duron wrinkled his brow, looking a bit perturbed by the line of conversation.

“Our enemies are tough, there is no denying that. I suppose I just…well, the Vanguard is important to me. It goes beyond glory in battle, Duron. What I’ve always wanted for them, for us, is a purpose. I don’t want that drive or that purpose to die with me.”

“Then you must think about this carefully, Lirshar. If it is important to you, you must make a decision.”

“I will, Duron. You should join the others in resting. I will come find you after I finish clearing my head.”

Duron nodded and kissed Lirshar once more, this time on top of her head. Then he turned and left, allowing the Warlady the space she desired.

“…Who will it be…?”