Trial of Combat: Mylnith

[Mylnith]

The smell of exhaust and fuel permeated the airship as Mylnith found herself wishing for the smell of fel burning engines of the Fel Hammer. Men and women stood alongside her attention in rank and file ready to plunge themselves at the front in Arathi. One goblin had been venturing off one at a time a parachute to each recruit and when it became Mylnith's turn, she stood slightly confused as to why she was being issued one. Though, the Goblin hadn't bothered with much parley to give on the matter. Handing her one quickly, Mylnith had decided to put it on anyway. She followed the examples of others straps around her arms and around her waist and soon it was fitted to her person.

Her head turned at the loud sound of an orc shouting down the airship. They were soon destined to arrive at Ar'gorok. From what she understood, the place had been overrun by the alliance. It was evident by the sound of flak and whirring sounds of arcane with hostile negotiation for their unwelcome presence. With one motion of his arms, the giant commanding orc had motioned toward the opening the airship that leads to a platform which was clearly their only way out.

Line by line, heroes of the horde took the leap as looking down upon them all looked like a giant white stitched together blanket covering the sky below. Mylnith like the others took the leap. By the time she had landed, the fel in her blood boiled greatly and the clash of blade's and combat had ensued. She could barely remember herself as it all became a blur. She favored the speakers of her targets, those that would bark orders. It hadn't taken long, and the keep was soon overtaken by its rightful owners.

Arathi itself soon became soaked with blood with scrimmages upon every front. Mylnith hadn't combated with many of the other races and the diversity that rest in the horde. Tauren, orcs, trolls and even her own kind nearly seemed foreign at this point. Where she had doubt, that was soon replaced by the approval and hope. From the Tauren that would trample any foe underfoot making quick of unbreaking lines of humans. Orcs, more specifically the peons, having had heard rumors of this sub-sect of them proved nearly invaluable in resource collections. Though dimwitted, if they had a task no wall would stop them. Though often that wall had a door they could easily walk beyond.

By the time the circle of elements had been captured, a new found respect was made for their ability to change the battlefield. She found her weapons lighter, her strikes quicker as if the wind itself was beneath her feet and aiding her cause.

The horde soon found themselves pressed upon the doors of the infamous Trollbane. Mylnith had trouble remembering much of the days it had taken to get to this point, it all was a smear on a canvas. The humans in the keep soon found themselves falling upon her axes. Her hatred burned for them more than any other, though Arthas had been slain that flame was never snuffed out. And no sooner did the mortar tear the stone from the wall and rip the hinges from the doors that guarded Stormgarde Keep, the battle was over. Bodies piled on bodies bolting through the door slaughtering and killing all those inside without regard.

[Qabian]

Qabian tilted his head curiously as he read Mylnith's report. It was certainly detailed. He sketched a comment in the margin. "Sufficient, but was this venture undertaken with the Grim?" Then in capital letters, he added, "KHORSHAH" and placed the page into a particular pile of the many atop thee makeshift desk.