Grim Views

"As you're ready, Vanguards, take him down."

The voice echoed throughout the cavern, drowned out only by the dueling roars of the two vanguards. One, Bloodscream, beat at his shield as he charged down the ramp into the darkened chamber, screaming numerous Orcish curses and taunting the beast they were to face. The other, Ishiki, joined his comrade just a few steps behind. The tauren changing his deeper battle cry into a ferocious roar mid-stride as his body shrunk down and assumed the form of a bear, albeit a bear with tauren horns upon its forehead. Almost eagerly they seemed to race towards the adversary that waited within: the Lord of all Gronn, the Dragonkiller Gruul.

My heart raced as the giant creature pounded his fist into the ground, shaking the entire chamber and causing a heavy wooden gate to come crashing down just behind our backs. Exhilaration seemed to fill most of my companion's hearts, as they all raced down the hill chanting and roaring lustily now that the battle finally seemed to be upon us. I stood frozen to the spot for a moment in pure horror as I watched the Gronn-Lord swipe his hand over the ground, catching Bloodscream nearly off guard as the orc barely had enough time to raise his shield to deflect the blow. Still, the fist as large as three orcs tossed the vanguard like a pebble nearly halfway across the room before the orc thrust his foot down, catching against the dirt and swinging his momentum back against the beast. He charged with another orcish cry before engaging the beast once more. Shock and wonder filled my mind, as I admired the tenacity of the vanguard orc, knowing if it was I, or even a lesser orc, that just a crumpled pulp of a corpse would remain from a blow like that one was. Yet as I stood distracted, another shout from the orc broke me from my awe, and I remembered what I truly was there for. This was my first true excursion with my fellow Grim, and I had a part to play as much as each other warrior did. I sprinted forward, shouting a command to my imp, Tarmir, to follow closely. It did, although reluctantly and more than likely just because it was only partially existent in the plane I call home, knowing then that no true damage could come to it.

I must have been crazy in retrospect, as if Gruul could batter around our prime vanguard like he did, a blood elf like myself wouldn't stand a chance. I'm very well aware of my frail physique, and I make no excuses about my lack of talent in physical activities. Yet there I was, running headlong against the raging Gronn, trying to follow orders as my military training told me I always should. I shot a glance sideways and saw my own companion, Alphaeus, a shadow priest who had followed me to The Grim after the Blood Brigade disbanded running off in his own direction as ordered, and wondered if either of us.. by the Fel, if any of us... would survive this.

A loud crack diverted my attention, and my eyes veered upward to discover the cause of the noise. My eyes widened as I spotted a jagged rock, a cave-in racing towards my head. I dove to the side as best as I could, but I cried out as the shrapnel from the broken rock slammed against my leg, breaking it instantly. I barked out another command in Demonic to Tarmir, ordering him to stand vigil near the vanguards as I drug myself over to the east wall. With a mutter he sauntered over, using his demonic magic to fortify the warriors even as he remained only partially in the material plane of existence. The chaotic sounds of battle assaulted my ears even as the throbbing pain in my leg threatened to drown it out. Desperately I reached into my robes, pulling out a small glowing green stone. I smirked as I remembered the three warlocks along with the group, myself included, holding out a small glowing purple crystal, and by focusing the soul within as well as the free souls wandering through the world, or, “spirits” as the shamans like to say, condensed them into small wells of energy. Thus our comrades were able to take the packed life energy and use the “stones” that came forth to replenish their own life force. The macabre truth of the power of a “healthstone” was known rarely by other warlocks, let along those outside of the craft. They just took the candy, as they liked to call it, and focused the energy. Ah, ignorance is bliss.

I held the stone to my leg, feeling the energy reach out and seep into my skin, fusing with the broken bone beneath. I hissed as the pins and needles returned with fervor as the energy worked at the injury. Frustrated and wanting to contribute to the fight, I shoved the stone into my leg, watching the stone seep through my skin and directly into the damaged muscle and bone. I grit my teeth and bore the pain shooting up my leg and into my chest before I head another loud crack. Without needing to look I sprang up and ran to my left, easily avoiding the falling rocks this time around.

With a healed leg and finally where I needed to be, I turned back towards the Gronn-Lord. Already he looked worse for wear, with Bloodscream tearing around him trying to avoid the giant's crushing blows, and with the numerous rogues and mages blasting away with spells and weapons alike, his movements looked distracted and jerky, even though his rage seemed to keep him well enough aware to keep after the vanguard orc. My eyes narrowed as I finally went to work. I took my left arm and pointed at the Dragonkiller, muttering a few demonic words under my breath. An invisible tendril shot out from my extended finger, and as I followed the energy with my senses I felt it wrap around the body of Gruul. Concentrating, I closed my eyes and forced the curse tighter around the Gronn, pressing against the natural resistance of his girth and penetrating his muscles, weakening the blows he was pressing against our company's vanguard. At the same time I began to feel the other curses that my comrades in arms had case upon the brute. One forcing needles of invisible Shadow into various parts of his body, each causing considerable agony, the other sucking away the natural magical resistance surrounding his kind, exposing him to the other attacks from we warlocks and the shadow priests.

With that work finished I glanced to my fellow Fel-shaper to my right, she gave a quick not to me and we began our next ritual. Each of us chose a spot on the huge beast's body and delved in deep with our senses. With both my arms stretched out in front of me I focused deep in the gut of the Gronn-Lord. Examining the chemistry within I began to use my talents to mix some of the fluids around into a potent toxin. Smirking to myself I continued to spread the taint, corrupting the beat's body from the inside out. Randomly I changed focus, taking different parts of his muscles and bones and twisting them into grotesque variations of themselves, sapping his energy bit by bit as his body tried to fight back against the internal assault now as well as the external being delivered so successfully by our compatriots.

Apparently this seemed to anger Gruul, as just after I had pulled back to renew the bindings upon his muscles that were causing his weakness he bellowed out loudly, slamming down his larger fist with a terrible force upon the floor. I watched the ground buckle from the impact, feeling grateful that Bloodscream and Ishiki had at least noticed it and backed away enough to remain safe from the attack. My relief was short lived however, as the ground itself rippled outwardly from the point of impact, throwing aside the two vanguards like they were trash in the wind. Thinking quickly, I ran to a large white rock I had spied earlier in the battle and climbed up upon it. I held on for dear life as the shockwave hit, tossing me from the rock, but luckily the weight of the rock itself proved enough as to not fling me across the entire chamber like many of my comrades.

After I had landed I tried to move back towards the Gronn-Lord, but something seemed to grab onto me, slowing my movements. Quickly I looked to my partner to my right, noticing the same thing was taking her as well. I gasped, although the yells of worry from the others around the chamber drowned that out easily. A hand made of solid stone was coming out of the ground at her feet. My eyes roamed the scene in a panic, noticing the same thing happening to each and every one of us. Even my own legs were quickly encasing in stone, the grasp of the rock summoned by the Gronn-Lord stiffening my movements as in mere seconds it covered my chest, then my arms, and finally my face and head. I could barely see through my tomb, and I thought I would die like this with the next group to face this monster able to see our graves standing in mid-action, perhaps showing what their fate would be as well.

To my amazement though, Gruul was not content to let us die as statues, and amazingly, he jumped. How a monster of that weight and size could do that boggles me to this day, but he sprung into the air and brought his weight crashing down upon the ground with such force that each of our stone prisons shattered with the vibrations. Even as I stumbled out of my crumbling tomb, a piece of stone from <NAME HERE>'s own tomb rocketed through the air, colliding with my right arm and snapping both bones between my elbow and shoulder. I screamed out in pain and grabbed at my shoulder with my uninjured hand, feeling the weight of the now useless arm hanging limply at my side.

With renewed vigor fueled by the burning pain at my side I narrowed my eyes, glaring scornfully at the beast that did this to me. As I saw around him however, others obviously weren't so lucky. One of the shamans lay dead upon the ground as a small pool of blood grew around his head. Apparently, some of the rocks that flew with the shattering did their job after all. To my left I heard a shout. The rogue who had begun the fight, Abric, was yelling again, “Now! Burn him! Leave nothing behind!” I was all too happy to cooperate. Using all the will I had left I focused my energies, drawing directly from the Void I threw bolt after bolt of pure Shadow at his face, testing my aim with Gruul's one, enormous eye. To be honest, I didn't prove very effective at that test, not with him flailing around like he was.

Finally, we could see that the injuries were taking their toll upon him. His upper half was a literal pincushion, and our hunters, led by Muatah, kept adding more. The mages were using the half-buried shafts as their own targeting practice, with Qabian simply snapping his fingers and igniting each and every arrow, adding further pain and injury to the giant. The rogues continued to slice their way through the brute's tough skin, now working against exposed sinew and bone, snapping tendons and causing the Gronn to stumble even as he took out his rage against those working against him. Blood seeped into the sand beneath, both Gruul's and those who didn't survive the horrific shattering that took place just moments before.

With so much blood, I suppose it was only a matter of time, but I was too far back to really notice, firing my curses and tainted spells at the beast, doing my best to bring him down as I was ordered by the Irredeemable. But still, apparently it was more than I had noticed, as with a shout of shock, our prime vanguard, Bloodscream, lost his footing in the slick liquid. I watched wide-eyed as his legs slid out from underneath him, the weight of his armor instantly throwing him off balance and causing his shield to slip from his fingers. The Gronn-Lord didn't pass up such a pristine opportunity, and in the blink of an eye his arm had shot down and swept up the orc before our healers of Ishiki could react. The beast laughed as his huge hand began to clench around the plate-clad warrior, and sounds like a tin can with twigs in it echoed around the cavern. We all knew what was happening, Gruul was crushing him, and it didn't even seem like it was taking him much effort.

Bloodscream didn't even make a sound. True to his heritage the orc did naught but meet his death with the honor and valor that they are raised to uphold, and as the orc shuddered with his final breath, it gave us the distraction we needed to take the day.

Muatah, probably the best marksman I have seen in my day, also took advantage in the lull. As most of us stood in shock, the tauren hunter took aim, and with one bolt, pierced the single eye of the Gronn-Lord, blinding him. Gruul roared out in agony, and Ishiki took the opportunity to lunge upon the beast's chest, tearing in with the claws his bear form granted him and pulled the thick, leather-like skin off in ribbons, exposing the soft under tissue. We all took advantage, me and the other warlocks focusing our curses upon the newly shown flesh. The mages took turns freezing the muscle and melting it again, degrading the quality. The hunters used their superior aim to bury so many arrows within that you could hardly see any of the skin when they were done. And of course the others, slicing, hacking, and casting at that one small area, sucking away at the bohemath's life faster than he could react and attack us one by one.

After what seemed like an eternity of pushing myself to the limit, I felt the Void recoil against me. I was tapped, and exhausted I slumped to the ground, flicking my wrist to throw what last energy I had left at the creature. Around me, others were doing the same, but what an effect it had. Abric suddenly appeared again from the crowd of weapon wielders crowded around the Gronn's form, shouting at everyone to get back. There was a mad scramble as everyone retreated to the sides of the chamber, holding up just short of the cave walls. Ishiki only delayed long enough to retrieve the fallen's bodies, dragging them to the location where the majority of the priests and shamans that stood were gathered. I personally wondered why Abric had called such a retreat, as we had the Gronn-Lord right where we wanted him. I soon found out though, as I watched from my spot, kneeling in pain and exhaustion. Gruul stumbled towards the main crowd, although he stumbled - badly. He only made it three steps, if I remember correctly, before the eye that had been put through by Muatah's shot clouded over, and with a mighty crash worthy of such a monstrous beast, he fell, dead.

The noise that arose at that moment deafened me for a minute, I'm sure. I still think I have a slight ringing in my ears to this day, but by the Nether it was well deserved. Twenty-five Grim marched into Gruul's Lair that evening, vowing victory or death at the hands of the Gronn-Lord, and after our priests had mended the wounded and had raised the dead with their divine powers, twenty-five of us would be walking out, singing songs of our victory and praising those that had paved the road.

I smiled from the rear of the crowd. I was still one of the “new guys” after all, and I was never one for talking much while people who did so much more than I deserved so much credit. Asheerah and Bloodscream especially, and of course Muatah and and Ishiki, and Duranor and all the others who had bled, sweat and fought for the day. I hissed however, as the adrenaline wore off and the pain in my broken arm shot back through my body, and I sunk to one knee as I tried to recover.

“I've got you, sir…” a voice next to me whispered, and to my left holding me steady stood Alphaeus, my old companion and officer from the Brigade. He had apparently seen me fall to my knee and had wondered why I was still injured. Honestly I had forgotten about my broken arm, and only now was I regretting not mentioning it to the other healers.

“Ah, Major,” I muttered through clenched teeth, “It's nothing, really. A rock hit it, I'll be fine.” I smirked, forcing myself to my feet.

“No, I've got it,” he replied. His insubstantial form from the fight faded back into clearness, the deep purple and black that covered him while he fought with the blessing of the Shadow lifting as he moved back into the normal realm. It was here when I saw how he had fared as well. Just a few bruises it looked like, and a few pieces of ripped robes and dried blood covered his face and arms. But all the same, he looked none the worse for wear. He rose his arm, placing his hand over the break in my bones and closed his eyes. Instantly I felt the warmth of his healing powers mending the damage within. I admit, the divine healing ways are much more comfortable than the forced energy that healthstones offer, but you take what you can get in war.

I flexed my arm as he pulled his hand away, and I grinned widely at how it felt like it was never broken at all. “For a shadow priest,” I snickered, “you sure do that well.”

“Not a Holy drop in me either!” he shot back, smirking as he delivered his traditional response.

“You… BASTARD!”

I turned around, surprised by the grating, whiney high-pitched voice, and I laughed when I notced my imp, Tarmir, limping up to me. His arm hung at his side the same way mine had hung when it was broken just moments before.

“You fool,” I replied, “You forgot how attuned I am with my demonology studies. I share a link with all my minions, as it augments my power, as it does the same to yours. But, as you know, the damage I take to my body is reflected back to you. So next time you think you're all safe and cozy, remember just how much control I really have over you. Now, begone you little whelp.” I laughed again as I waved my hand in dismissal, and the swearing little creature was whisked back away to the Twisting Nether.

I opened my mouth to mutter something to Al, but I was cut off by Abric beginning to talk, stating something about practice and moving on to bigger things, or something along those lines. But it was what he dismissed us with that stuck with me: “So take this victory, and then go write an RP story about it! DOOM!”

Al and I saluted, and turned to walk out, after all, I had writing to do.


DOOM!