Feral by Kromag

[Keeper Of Lore]

Abysnal was about thirty yards away, ripping into some human warrior. Blood sprayed everywhere, a fine red mist destroying Kromag's sight picture.
Turning Kromag focused on the next threat, some Night Elf druid was doing his best to try and heal the warrior.


The end of the rifle exploded with fire and smoke as the shot flew toward the chest of his intended target. The round hit but not like one would think, it lodged in the armor of the druid and encircled him in some sort of magic hue.

It was to late for the druid though, he noticed to late that he could not finnish his magic healing. Nor was he able to cast anything else, looking toward Kromag the druid realized his problem. The Night Elf was pissed, his teeth flashed as he began to change form into a bear. Just as he became the bear another round ripped through his left eye and out the back of his skull.

The bear changed back to the Night Elf as he died, his very life force draining from him. Looking back to Abysmal Kromag smiled, the throat of the warrior was missing and his faithfull pet had his lower jaw covered in blood.

But the fight was not over yet, more alliance came over the hill. Kromag watched through blood red eyes. The color began to deepen as his mind raced through the days events. The hate, the anger, he was furious, he wanted to kill, he wanted blood, to drink, to bathe in. He wanted to make them all suffer, make the fools pay!

His mind went over the past events of that day.......


The Blood Elves arguing with him, their claiming at how much better they were. At how blessed and how proper, how they look down on orcs and others that feast on the fallen. Kromag's blood pumped harder in his veins, so loud he could hear his own heart beat.

Their were others........


Melchisedch made his blood burn, his narrow minded outlook about orcs and Kromag drove him insane. He hated such limited outlooks, the ones that can not see passed their own nose. And worse yet the lady Acherontia stood up for him. Why would any person defend a narrow minded fool?!


Finally his father.....


He had to threaten and grow insane with rage just to get his and Vilmah's father to attend her wedding. He wanted nothing more then to rip out his own fathers arms and drink the blood from them!

"I hate fools!!!" His words echoed through woods and air of Tarren Mill. Charging forward he ran into the middle of the alliance. Gun firing, pet biting and clawing. He would not stop, he could not stop. The blood called to him, it burned within him. The blood begged for it, it desired it, it called to him..... Kill them all, drink their life from them, taste their fear and embrace it!

He was firing and moving, taking aim one moment, bashing another with his gun the next. He did not care, he lost concern for himself. He threw himself wildly into the frey.


By the end of the battle Kromag walked out of all the bodies, his pet following closely behind. He walked to his mount and rode off, heading into the wild. He needed to be alone now, he needed to be with the animals that he was more like then he often cared to admit. He had to find a way to cope with the lust for anothers blood. One day someone in the Grim would not be pleased with his more feral nature. Their must be a cure somewhere, someone must know.....

[Keeper Of Lore]

by Acherontia

Acherontia sat on the edge of Hunter Rise in Thunder Bluff, turning her hearthstone over and over in her hands. Abramelin stalked the glowing fel-eye at her side as it bobbed and danced, and through it she stared out over the vastness of Mulgore. She loved it here, she loved the constant thrumming of the drums through the earth and the staggering beauty of the view from her favorite vantage point upon which she sat. There was a peace here that she did not know anywhere else.

Today, though, that peace was warring in her mind with memories of the anger that had resonated over the stone the night before. The warlock did not know how long she would continue to belong to the Grim, but that while she was with them, she could not just hide herself. She had developed an affection for the orc hunter, and counted him among the few she would actually call "friends". They had quarreled in the monastery, though, and their friendship became more strained than it had been in the past. She could hear the tension in his voice when he had spoken to her last night...she knew that his opinion of her had been lowered, that she was tainted by her association with Melchisedech and even more by the fact that she had defended him against Kromag's anger. It had chilled her blood to hear the threat the hunter had spoken...Acherontia shook her head. Between Kromag and Soerinth, Melchisedech certainly wasn't making any friends.

But this wasn't about him now. And perhaps it would all be for naught...but she was fond of the orc. Maybe he would lose his temper again, maybe he wouldn't even listen. Still...she had to try.

Running her fingers over the carved rune in the stone, she lifted it to her lips and called the hunter.

[Keeper Of Lore]

by (unknown)

As the orc emerged from battle, oblivious to everything, a form stood behind on a nearby hill. This form was sitting drinking milk. She was thirsty for having healed both him and his pet.

She watched him mount and ride off. His pet turned and looked at the figure then back to it's master and followed along.

She stands and shrugs her shoulders, "Even lost to the battle, I will watch out for you. You are Grim." She turns and walks the other way.

[Keeper Of Lore]

by (unknown)

He felt the stone, it was warm and pulsed. Pulling it forth from a pouch he looked it over in his hand. It felt as if someone was calling to him, trying to focus as much as he could he tried to respond to whoever it was.


"Who.....what....what do you want?" Kromag's voice was ragged and sounded as if his throat had been through a meat grinder.

[Keeper Of Lore]

Acherontia shivered as the voice, barely recognizable, scraped over the hearthstone. He had told her what had been done to him at the hands of the necromancers...she had seen him in the grip of his bloodlust before as he and Abysmal had laid waste to the monastery...she had heard his voice like that.

No, not quite like that. Not nearly this bad.

Perhaps this had been a mistake.

Too late now.

"It is Acherontia. Are you all right, my friend? It sounds bad."

[Keeper Of Lore]

A cold hard smile crossed over Kromags lips. He was still caught up in the lust for the kill. And like a true hunter, he used this moment to lay a trap to his advantage. To capture prey......


"I am here mylady, hmmm I am well enough. Perhaps you would be interested in seeing how I am doing?" His voice taunted and hinted at things hidden. Doing his best to sound as if all is well and fine.

[Keeper Of Lore]

A nervous laugh forced its way between the warlock's lips. "You sound like you did when first we met. It is good to know that you are well." His voice echoed the tone it had taken when he had first looked on her, but she was puzzled. He had told her it was all a facade. She both damned and blessed not being able to look at him right now - grateful for the miles between Thunder Bluff and wherever he was, and regretting that she could not see what was churning in his spirit. She trusted her fel-vision, but without it...

"I delivered your message to the priest." Acherontia paused there, wondering if she should leave it at that. She had hoped to find him as he usually was, but she could not be sure... With a last look at the rolling landscape, she banished the Eye and waited for Kromag's response.

[Keeper Of Lore]

The grin grew wider, sharp white fangs gleamed in the early eve. His message made it to it's intended target. His mind raced as to find ways of working this into a larger deal.


Kromag's tone grew dire and quite excited, "Oh? Well you know, mayhap you both should come and visit with me. We can sit and speak of ways to better work together, you two and I."

He was not his normal self, the lust and crave for more bloodshed and the desire to destroy what he considered to be his enemy grew and grew. If he could get Melchisedech here as well it would be all the more enjoyable. Destroy the one who thinks he is better then an orc, better then the Blood Tracker.....

"Yes I think both of you should come, it would be....enjoying."

His plans changed at the moment, destroy the male and take the female as his own. He could do what he wanted, this Mel would be unable to stop him.

[Keeper Of Lore]

Damn the miles.

"Kromag, I cannot vouch for him. I believe you at your word - I do not doubt that you will deal with him as you said you would if he were to bait you again as he did last night. I only have his assurance that he will try, though, and that is not enough. He is not one to back down from a threat." She paused and took a breath. "I do not wish to lose both of you over this."

[Keeper Of Lore]

"Vouch? I care little about you vouching for him, I want him here I want him to be before me and beg forgiveness. Both of you get here now!"

Anger and his feral nature were too consuming, he could not maintain the calm that he tried to hold onto. He did not care his lust made him mad, so he rode off toward the bat handler. He would do what he did best, he would find his prey. Get her and he will come, he was easy to predict.

[Keeper Of Lore]

Bless the miles.

Acherontia's voice was grave. "Kromag, I neither know nor care where you are now, and if I did, all the gold in Azeroth could not tempt me within twenty leagues of you. You are not yourself." It pained her to say the words, but she continued. "The waters of the ocean will rise up and drown us all before he begs you for anything. Use your bloodlust in battle, hunter, but do not allow it to consume you to the point where you are a danger to your allies!"

She sighed softly and continued, gently this time. "We are Grim together. Do not forget that, Kromag."

[Keeper Of Lore]

Hate echoes deeply in his voice.


"A Grim would not insult their own kind, and if they did to not expect one to come for them is foolish!"

[Keeper Of Lore]

"So, you would make good on your threat before what you said would cause you to do so has come to pass." It was a statement, not a question. Acherontia had risen to her feet and was still staring blankly out over Mulgore. She gripped her hearthstone tightly and tried to ignore the fierce surge of dread rising within her. "Without even giving him the chance to do what he said he would, you would abandon yourself to your lust for blood. Who would be next? This is bigger than Melchisedech, it is bigger than what he said about you. What need have the Alliance to come after us if we slay our own?" The young woman prayed that her words did not sound like the desperations of a simple girl. She was a farmer's wife...she had not Yichimet's wisdom nor patience, she had not Melchisedech's eloquence. She was alone, and desperate, and she feared for her friends...both of them.

"Be true to what you said. If ever you have smiled at a word I have spoken to you, or shared a laugh with me, grant me this. You must bring it under your control. You must try."

[Keeper Of Lore]

by Chaindog

A voice suddenly speaks up behind Acherontia. "As Abric be wont to say, 'You are oblivious to your surroundings, were I the enemy, you would be dead.' Your fear be palpable. I be smelling it in the wind. What has you dreading so?"

Standing behind Acherontia with bow in hand is Chaindog. Gutwrench, her wolf is heeled at her side. His playful attitude is silent as he too smells the fear in the wind.

[Keeper Of Lore]

His flight over the woods of Hillsbrad was coming to an end, soon he would be at the zeplin, first check the city....Her voice over the stone seemed to bring something awake in him midflight. He had regained some control of himself, and while he could he reached into a small leather pouch he carried.


He was at least fifty feet in the air, but it mattered little. He could feel the lust for battle and other things still pushing to regain control. He had no choice, pulling out a bit of steamed meat he quickly placed it in his mouth and chewed hard. The pill hidden in the meat disolved and flowed through his system.


His eyes began to close slowly, he tried to hold on but could not. Sliping from the bat he fell to the ground just as blackness overwhelmed him.

It was the only way, he had little choice. Sleeping for a time would remove the lust from his system and once he awoke he would think clearly again.

His final thoughts echoed through his mind as his shoulder bit harshly into the ground. His side would be badly injured and shoulder would be broken, but this was better then hurting those he called friend.