They moved with a purpose, a horrid and evil plot. One thousand undead and twenty human necromancers. Kromag followed, staying well out of sight and smell. Making sure his scent was always in the other direction, making sure they could not feel him. His duty was to scout out the enemy and find the main approach of the scourge.
He did his duty, with anger and hate toward his father for making him do this. He had other desires, other choices in his life he wished for. He was wild, lived among all that is, never bothering with cities or people. But then a few dozen orcs came for him one night and set him in irons. Father had sent them to collect Kromag to fight in the war.
So here he was, watching and waiting, barely even breathing less they might notice him. It was well past night fall when the storm came, strong winds and lightning. The strong winds and powerfull cracks of lightning distracted him too much. He never saw it, never heard it, the spell hit him hard. He fell to the ground from his perch in a tree, he could hardly move. The undead surrounding him just lifted him and carried him off. He shoudl have been dinner, but instead they wanted him for something else.
Into the middle of the camp they drug him, there a large tent was standing tall in the night. A single necromancer came out and eyed him closely, motioning the undead he told them to take Kromag inside. That night, above the wind, the lightning, and all other things the sounds of blood chilling orcish screams could be heard. That night, Kromag, brother to Vilmah died, that night Kromag the Blood Tracker was born.
Kromag sat upright with lightning fast reflexes, looking about he remembered he was high in a tree asleep. His body burned, his mind raced, the scent and taste of blood was in the air. Looking about he saw him, the human male walking just under his tree. The fool did not even look up, he just went about his duties picking herbs. He was covered shoulder to foot in some form of cloth, the robes perfect in color and design.
Saliva dripped and hung from Kromags lower jaw, the only thing in his mind was blood. Rolling out of the tree he landed on the human, knocking him down with his massive weight. The human was stunned, their was nothing he could do. Picking himself up just a bit the mad orc grabbed the human by the hair and shoulder. Pulling and ripping as hard as he could he took the humans head off. Snapping and popping could be heard as bone and muscle ripped and seperated. Blood splatter going everywhere, Kromag smiled as he lifted the head.
Opening his mouth he lifted the lifeless head and held it above him as the warm life blood dripped into his waiting maw. Filling his mouth he drank as much as he could from the torn neck. Looking about he realized what he had done, the lust for blood had taken over for a bit. His eyes were red and filled with hate, his desire to feed and kill were sated for now but how long till he needed it again? His mind raced hard, perhaps....mabey someone among the Grim would have a way to treat or cure him...mayhap a cure for his plague....looking about Kromag took off into the night and left the mangled body for the animals.