Grimfang, October 10, 2006
Grimfang burst through the heavy oaken doors of the guild hall.
He strode purposefully into the middle of the chamber and came to
an abrupt halt. There he stood, covered in soot and reeking of
the fumes from a forge. It seemed as though every piece of his
wargear and even his flesh itself was singed by his long hours at
He slowly surveyed his surroundings before advancing forward to a
table. With a series of heavy clanks, the heavily armored ork
came to rest in a chair seemingly much too small for his frame.
He again assessed his surroundings slowly and methodically. “If
de’re any here, dey hide well,” he thought to himself. Allowing
himself to relax slightly, he eased his grip on the hilt of his
well-worn battleaxe. Glancing down at his hand, he almost forgot
what it looked like without a weapon in it. Catching a glimpse at
the damage done to his bracers, he recalled why it was he never
really let go of his axe.
“Alliance dogs!” he snarled, “Soon dey’ll get wha’s commin to
His words surprised him. “I don usually speak so much,” he
thought to himself. His thoughts drifted back to the time he
spent in isolation.
He snapped himself back to the task at hand. “De’re be no time
for memories now!” he said to himself. Springing to his feet and
grabbing his axe, he walked again to the middle of the hall.
“If de’res none here, then they be fightin’ and killin’ for the
horde’s sake.” Grimfang thought. “If I’m to make my place among
‘em, I’ll do de same.”
He turned, and walked quickly through the doors and once again
Tales of Old.