Grim Views

*Bryii sits by a fire in Northrend close to the ruins of Wintergrasp sipping on some hot tea mixed with a little alcohol. She looked over at her partner Arrothien cooking up something to eat as the two sat in camp. Bryii smiled at Arrothien, she could always trust him and be safe with him no matter what.*

This evening Arrothien and I thought maybe we should head up towards Northrend, it has been a long time since I have been there. Arrothien had though maybe we should visit the old battlefields of Wintergrasp to see if he can find any minerals and ore to take and sell. So I said I would assist him in his Journey, keeping him alive from the freezing temperature and any Alliance. We rode on our mounts him his Skeletal Warhorse and my War wolf, searching around the dead plains of Wintergrasp we found some ore that would be useful for Arrothien. We came across a graveyard and stopped, I froze up for a moment as Arrothien noticed something had caught my eye. I jumped off her mount without hesitation and walked up to the grave I had spotted as Arrothien kept asking as what I was doing I just ignored him. I read the grave and knelt down wiping the ice and snow off the stone. My shoulders shifted downwards, Arrothien stood back in respect to me by not interfering. I sat there for a minute and two, I could quietly hear the chilling wind pass through the area...using that sound to cover up my sobs and tears rolling down. I think Arrothien knew I was upset, but he just stood there. As I was about to get up a horse had ran by and knocked Arrothien over on to the ground. I quickly darted and looked at him then to what had hit him. My eye's widen then glared, a Draenei sitting there with a grin. Arrothien got back up and I stood up grabbing my axe, Arrothien yelled towards me to be careful....it's Pluckky. I knew her from previous battles and so did Arrothien, so we both knew what she was capable of.

The Draenei mocked me for being by the grave showing sorrow, Arrothien ran towards her at full force not letting the ice or snow slowing him down. I joined him in the chase, Pluckky began to engage in combat. The Draenei proved to be still a great Priest, but Arrothien just got her in the ribs with her axe leaving a gashing wound. Pluckky knew she was not able to defeat two blood knights. She ran and dispersed into the shadows, leaving no trace. Arrothien was happy with the damage he did, I tended to his wounds patching him up with my mending abilities. After the battle we picked up more supplies and rested for the rest of the evening. Now...its time to enjoy Arrothien's cooking!

* Bryii place's the journal down and takes a bowl of hot soup that Arrothien had prepared and conversed with him about the Argent Crusader days in enjoyment for the rest of the night.*

Beyond the frayed edges of light from the flickering camp fire the shadows begin to slowly stir. Two ruby slits appear low to the ground, nearly unnoticeable.

The spirit wolf knew this may be it's only chance to see the journal unobserved. He stalked in circles around the ring of light emitted from the camp fire. The elf-things had been enjoying enough drink to miss the wolf. As he stalked into the soft glow a twig snapped. He could feel the fury from the stinky Orc which had a feral enough soul to permanently bond their spirits together. He lowered his head and perked his ears as he waited to see if the elf-things had heard...

As he sat motionless, not daring to move, Bryii erupts in a high pitched giggle. Feeling safe enough to approach he quickly closes the distance between himself and the journal. Sparing only enough time to allow his master to see the scratches upon the paper he darted back into the shadows.

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From across the oceans of Azeroth Ashenfury could tap into the senses of his wolves without the least hint of effort. After all, it is rare for an Orc to have such a sense of smell. As his extension of will snapped the twig his heart raced and he held back the emotions of anger just enough to pressure the wolf. Ashenfury read the words within the journal and made a note of the name Pluckky. Attacking any Grim, especially his Supplicants, is enough to issue a warrant of death from the Dreadweaver.