Chaindog stands at the main dinning table in the guildhall with her Finkle Skinner ripping out the last the useful bits of the gurggling almost dead gnome. A chuckle comes to mind of the time that she did this very same thing and Bloodscream yelled at her because he was still eating his breakfast.
In walks Lobo, Deathknight and ward of Chaindog. She walks up to Chaindog asks, "Would you have a moment?"
Chaindog's reply was a simple nod.
"I was party to a fight today, or at least I got to hear about it through the hearthstones. It was originally about all the Grog being stolen from the guildhall. I didn't think it was a big deal, but then Thulgrim and Khorvis started yelling about honor and a fight ensued." said Lobo.
"I know not dese two, but continue." said Chaindog.
"They were in Pandaria. Valindria was there to oversee the fight of honor I guess. The problem is that it went much deeper than that. I think the darkness or taint or whatever the 'Sha' is was affecting them. They both seemed to struggle with themselves fighting it. It was an interesting fight though. Do all the Grim fight over honor?"
Chaindog replied with, "I know only da Grim from way back. But it is known dat Orcs an be honorable. Dere ave been disagreements in da past, and many a fight has broken out within da Grim. Perhaps someone could explain more of what happened today or what it means."
Lobo then said, "I don't want to get anyone into trouble, but the fight sounded crazy."
Chaindog replied, "Bah, don't be silly. We be Grim, fights come and go, in da end we still be Grim."
Lobo looks around to see if anyone else is nearby that may contribute.
The Grog
Re: The Grog
The rear door of the guild hall banged open as Khorvis Bloodstar stomped inside, struggling with a giant cask nearly twice his weight. Grunting and panting, he heaved it onto a nearby rack and set next to the wooden vessel a tap and hammer. The orc leaned against his delivery, catching his breath and nearby conversation. Turning to Chaindog and Lobo, he grunted and signed for peace.
“You speak of ill events, knight,” the Irredeemable said. “I do not deny that those deeds were of mine, and yet …” Khorvis hesitated, seemingly at a loss for the right words. “We must guard our very thoughts in that land of mist. I cannot claim to know what corruption plagues its earth. The priestess Valindria was given a cutting of my hide to study. It is now her wisdom we await.”
Facing again to the cask, he hefted the tap and gestured to the pair with his hammer.
“While we do still command our wits, who with me would raise their mug in drink?!”
“You speak of ill events, knight,” the Irredeemable said. “I do not deny that those deeds were of mine, and yet …” Khorvis hesitated, seemingly at a loss for the right words. “We must guard our very thoughts in that land of mist. I cannot claim to know what corruption plagues its earth. The priestess Valindria was given a cutting of my hide to study. It is now her wisdom we await.”
Facing again to the cask, he hefted the tap and gestured to the pair with his hammer.
“While we do still command our wits, who with me would raise their mug in drink?!”
Re: The Grog
Seated primly upon a bench pushed against the wall of the great room Frya looked from Chaindog to Khorvis with her emotionless fae green eyes. The guild banner loomed above and behind her as she slowly closed the metal bound tome whose vellum pages she had been flipping thru. Not one to have much to say when admidst the rowdier more impassioned of the guilds races she none the less weighed the story seriously.
Grim .. turned against Grim .. because of the Sha?
Glancing to her ever present water companion its reactions to this news were as unreadable as the blood elves but she stared hard at the elemental none the less and allowed her vision to drift and be encompassed by the shifting and flowing surface of the beings form.
This land of Pandaria was far more dangerous, not because of this new race nor because of the Alliance laying its claims, but due to the Sha awakening from the powerful emotions of the new comers. The Alliance. The Horde. The Grim. The voices.
Setting her jaw, the only noticable reaction of the news, she turned her fae green eyes back to the room to listen more.
Grim .. turned against Grim .. because of the Sha?
Glancing to her ever present water companion its reactions to this news were as unreadable as the blood elves but she stared hard at the elemental none the less and allowed her vision to drift and be encompassed by the shifting and flowing surface of the beings form.
This land of Pandaria was far more dangerous, not because of this new race nor because of the Alliance laying its claims, but due to the Sha awakening from the powerful emotions of the new comers. The Alliance. The Horde. The Grim. The voices.
Setting her jaw, the only noticable reaction of the news, she turned her fae green eyes back to the room to listen more.
The Battle
The battle had been intense. Khorvis and Thulgrim had laid into each other with a ferocity best saved for the many foes of the Horde. The injuries were many. The insults had been flung like poisoned-soaked cannon shot. And at the end of it, they both had lost.
Thulgrim had fallen over, more than once; the flag of duel had been dropped to the earth no less than four times. Valindria watched them slug it out like fool lads over a pretty girl, her expression stoic even as she carefully watched the brawl that was both part and parcel of that most grievous of offenses: who stole the guild’s grog? He had given Khorvis as good a fight as he could muster, but nothing could break the Irredeemable’s wrath but the sight of Thulgrim nearly broken at his feet. Only then did the bloodlust drain out of Khorvis’s face, as he knelt down; his expression becoming one of shock. Around them, the Shrine of Fellowship rang with the sounds of battle; and corruption.
She had been about to step in, suddenly aware that the underlying problem had presented itself. It made so much sense! Questions with dubious solutions cleared up like a wave of lightning, the effect of one causing domino effect for the others. It seemed so simple that she cursed herself silently for not seeing it sooner.
Honorable combat was supposedly even odds. This had not been honorable combat, for the fight against Thulgrim had not been merely Khorvis. It had been Khorvis and all of the things he disliked about the world, about Pandaria; given substance from the ill presence of the Sha. Because of the taint upon the seemingly idyllic land, Thulgrim’s defeat was certain; if only because Khorvis was that much angrier. The discord in the air was a nearly tangible thing, and the intrusion of the Sha into Thulgrim’s body was rapid. She could see the sinuous shadows whisper over his battle hardened flesh, the tendrils that tried to seep in through his wounds. With a swiftly whispered spell leaving her lips, she flung a hand towards the prone orc, as if by merely the act of casting she could just as easily smack it out of him. The tendrils receded before returning again somewhat, so she cast two more times before she felt reasonably confident that Thulgrim was spared, for now. His other wounds were more mundane, but no less dire for the amount of blood he had lost. With Khorvis having regained his composure, he assisted her in transporting Thulgrim to the Shrine; where she could see about a more thorough healing.
It had taken a while, measuring the knitting of flesh to be at the same speed as driving the herald of corruption from the body. The pincer approach had been a theory that occurred to her as she’d begun work, and after Thulgrim lay sleeping, his breathing easy though not entirely restful; she thanked her instincts for guiding her. She turned away from her newest patient, as the field of his dreams played out upon his face, and she had no wish to learn such private things. She renewed the Lightspring once more before departing, intending to return in a while to see how he fared. However, the most pressing question that came to her could only be answered by Khorvis.
Thulgrim had fallen over, more than once; the flag of duel had been dropped to the earth no less than four times. Valindria watched them slug it out like fool lads over a pretty girl, her expression stoic even as she carefully watched the brawl that was both part and parcel of that most grievous of offenses: who stole the guild’s grog? He had given Khorvis as good a fight as he could muster, but nothing could break the Irredeemable’s wrath but the sight of Thulgrim nearly broken at his feet. Only then did the bloodlust drain out of Khorvis’s face, as he knelt down; his expression becoming one of shock. Around them, the Shrine of Fellowship rang with the sounds of battle; and corruption.
She had been about to step in, suddenly aware that the underlying problem had presented itself. It made so much sense! Questions with dubious solutions cleared up like a wave of lightning, the effect of one causing domino effect for the others. It seemed so simple that she cursed herself silently for not seeing it sooner.
Honorable combat was supposedly even odds. This had not been honorable combat, for the fight against Thulgrim had not been merely Khorvis. It had been Khorvis and all of the things he disliked about the world, about Pandaria; given substance from the ill presence of the Sha. Because of the taint upon the seemingly idyllic land, Thulgrim’s defeat was certain; if only because Khorvis was that much angrier. The discord in the air was a nearly tangible thing, and the intrusion of the Sha into Thulgrim’s body was rapid. She could see the sinuous shadows whisper over his battle hardened flesh, the tendrils that tried to seep in through his wounds. With a swiftly whispered spell leaving her lips, she flung a hand towards the prone orc, as if by merely the act of casting she could just as easily smack it out of him. The tendrils receded before returning again somewhat, so she cast two more times before she felt reasonably confident that Thulgrim was spared, for now. His other wounds were more mundane, but no less dire for the amount of blood he had lost. With Khorvis having regained his composure, he assisted her in transporting Thulgrim to the Shrine; where she could see about a more thorough healing.
It had taken a while, measuring the knitting of flesh to be at the same speed as driving the herald of corruption from the body. The pincer approach had been a theory that occurred to her as she’d begun work, and after Thulgrim lay sleeping, his breathing easy though not entirely restful; she thanked her instincts for guiding her. She turned away from her newest patient, as the field of his dreams played out upon his face, and she had no wish to learn such private things. She renewed the Lightspring once more before departing, intending to return in a while to see how he fared. However, the most pressing question that came to her could only be answered by Khorvis.
The Theory
As it happened, he was at the Seat of Knowledge. Perhaps looking for his own answers, he seemed almost relieved when she arrived. He did not favor the direction of her question, or the ones that followed; but he answered her as he was able. By way of thanks, he handed her a glass box, which housed a piece of his own hide, cut from his body only shortly before she arrived. Looking down at the contents and the same shadowy mists curling the edges as the flesh died, she then tucked the small box into her robes; and joined the Irredeemable for his nightcap at Summer’s Rest. She also visited Thulgrim to see how his recovery was progressing. What she saw she kept to herself.
A few days later, she sat in the priest’s hall in Sunfury Spire; a stack of books on the table next to her. More were gathered all over the room, thousands of tomes discussing every subject. She flipped through the leg-number she had been referred to by a more recent authoring, one hand resting securely on top on a fold of her robe covering the glass box. Valindria was committed to seeing Khorvis’s trust in her be proven wise, and as she read through the collection of knowledge her fellows had amassed in Silvermoon; she kept returning to the same theory.
The tomes she had read concerning demons and their energies had raised possibly the most interesting point. She was abruptly reminded of the Pandaren woman Suna Silentstrike, who had endured the quite recent loss of her husband. The sorrow that had overwhelmed her had provided the ideal opportunity for the Sha to corrupt her. Valindria remembered that woman’s death in a moment of clarity that suddenly made her glad she was seated. As her thoughts moved rapidly from one point to the next, she could barely credit her senses. In her mind, the fall of Yu’lon’s statue in the Jade Forest was followed by the dread rumble of the earth as masterfully rendered pieces broke away, disrupting the Jade Serpent’s desire to rest at last.
It was argued that the Sha’s presence preceded the arrivals of the Horde and Alliance. It had repeatedly demonstrated itself capable of creating opportunities to wreak havoc. All it seemed to need was a catalyst.
By bringing the factions to Pandaria, so did they bring all of the ill in themselves.
This land didn’t need to cull the weak. The Sha would do it with only a mirror. And they could well destroy themselves just fine.
Overcome, Valindria bowed her head, her free hand lifting to cover her eyes.
The book in her lap slid unceremoniously to the floor.
A few days later, she sat in the priest’s hall in Sunfury Spire; a stack of books on the table next to her. More were gathered all over the room, thousands of tomes discussing every subject. She flipped through the leg-number she had been referred to by a more recent authoring, one hand resting securely on top on a fold of her robe covering the glass box. Valindria was committed to seeing Khorvis’s trust in her be proven wise, and as she read through the collection of knowledge her fellows had amassed in Silvermoon; she kept returning to the same theory.
The tomes she had read concerning demons and their energies had raised possibly the most interesting point. She was abruptly reminded of the Pandaren woman Suna Silentstrike, who had endured the quite recent loss of her husband. The sorrow that had overwhelmed her had provided the ideal opportunity for the Sha to corrupt her. Valindria remembered that woman’s death in a moment of clarity that suddenly made her glad she was seated. As her thoughts moved rapidly from one point to the next, she could barely credit her senses. In her mind, the fall of Yu’lon’s statue in the Jade Forest was followed by the dread rumble of the earth as masterfully rendered pieces broke away, disrupting the Jade Serpent’s desire to rest at last.
It was argued that the Sha’s presence preceded the arrivals of the Horde and Alliance. It had repeatedly demonstrated itself capable of creating opportunities to wreak havoc. All it seemed to need was a catalyst.
By bringing the factions to Pandaria, so did they bring all of the ill in themselves.
This land didn’t need to cull the weak. The Sha would do it with only a mirror. And they could well destroy themselves just fine.
Overcome, Valindria bowed her head, her free hand lifting to cover her eyes.
The book in her lap slid unceremoniously to the floor.
Re: The Grog
The flickering flame of a single red candle cast myriad shadows throughout Khorvis’ command tent, their shapes twisting and writhing against the soaked canvas walls. Outside, the trees of Krasarang bent and groaned in objection to the monsoon that had swept into the jungle from the West. A steady stream of water droplets leaked through the ceiling and onto the Irredeemable’s blackened armor, pooling at his feet and leeching into his boots. Memory had Khorvis’ mind in its unyielding grasp, replaying a conversation of two nights past.
…
“A toast! To victory and the plunder of Mogu’shan Vaults!” Khorvis raised a gargantuan mug in salute to the priestess Valindria. The balcony of Summer’s Rest was raucous and alive as The Grim celebrated their most recent foray into the Mogus’ past, and no less than two drunken goblins had fallen from the tavern’s ledge to the stone dais below. The warrior tilted his head backwards as rank grog poured down his gullet and drenched his tabard.
Sipping her glass quietly, the Wandering Saiin nodded her assent to the toast, her thoughts unvoiced but creasing her brow. Valindria’s recent discoveries weighed heavily upon her conscience and the sight of so many comrades obliviously celebrating a temporary victory did little to ease her concern.
“Ah! It is well that our brother Thulgrim could join us in the fight!” the orc bellowed. “Your healing arts do your kind justice, elf. The Grim bounce back, that they do!” Twisting on his stool, Khorvis grabbed a Pandaren server by the hairy forelock and demanded another round.
“Since you are willing to broach the subject, Irredeemable, there is a new development with the sample you … provided,” the priestess directly spoke. “And I fear the worst.”
…
Staring into the flame with a slack gaze, Khorvis mumbled to himself. “It is happening again. The blood-curse and the demons. They seek to take us back.”
The wind tore open the tent door, lightning turning the forest to day for a brief moment and thunder crashing against Wind’s Edge cliff. Oblivious to the tempest raging around him and whipping round battle-maps and rosters, the orc continued to concentrate on the candle. He recalled the feeling of powerlessness as the taint had nearly burned him out in the slave camps. He remembered the same rage that burned in his veins as his axe connected with Thulgrim’s side. At that moment, Khorvis knew for certain. If the Grim did not find a suitable outlet for the influence of the Sha, it would destroy them from the inside out.
The candle’s flame guttered out in the gale force winds. The orc blinked twice, looked around at the horrid soaking mess, and stepped outside the collapsing tent. Gazing to the West over the ocean, he squinted at the sky. Towering mountains of black clouds seethed with intermittent arcs of pale blue lightning within their bowels.
“This storm will be upon us soon,” he grumbled.
…
“A toast! To victory and the plunder of Mogu’shan Vaults!” Khorvis raised a gargantuan mug in salute to the priestess Valindria. The balcony of Summer’s Rest was raucous and alive as The Grim celebrated their most recent foray into the Mogus’ past, and no less than two drunken goblins had fallen from the tavern’s ledge to the stone dais below. The warrior tilted his head backwards as rank grog poured down his gullet and drenched his tabard.
Sipping her glass quietly, the Wandering Saiin nodded her assent to the toast, her thoughts unvoiced but creasing her brow. Valindria’s recent discoveries weighed heavily upon her conscience and the sight of so many comrades obliviously celebrating a temporary victory did little to ease her concern.
“Ah! It is well that our brother Thulgrim could join us in the fight!” the orc bellowed. “Your healing arts do your kind justice, elf. The Grim bounce back, that they do!” Twisting on his stool, Khorvis grabbed a Pandaren server by the hairy forelock and demanded another round.
“Since you are willing to broach the subject, Irredeemable, there is a new development with the sample you … provided,” the priestess directly spoke. “And I fear the worst.”
…
Staring into the flame with a slack gaze, Khorvis mumbled to himself. “It is happening again. The blood-curse and the demons. They seek to take us back.”
The wind tore open the tent door, lightning turning the forest to day for a brief moment and thunder crashing against Wind’s Edge cliff. Oblivious to the tempest raging around him and whipping round battle-maps and rosters, the orc continued to concentrate on the candle. He recalled the feeling of powerlessness as the taint had nearly burned him out in the slave camps. He remembered the same rage that burned in his veins as his axe connected with Thulgrim’s side. At that moment, Khorvis knew for certain. If the Grim did not find a suitable outlet for the influence of the Sha, it would destroy them from the inside out.
The candle’s flame guttered out in the gale force winds. The orc blinked twice, looked around at the horrid soaking mess, and stepped outside the collapsing tent. Gazing to the West over the ocean, he squinted at the sky. Towering mountains of black clouds seethed with intermittent arcs of pale blue lightning within their bowels.
“This storm will be upon us soon,” he grumbled.
Re: The Grog
One week later, the orc Khorvis Bloodstar found himself trudging through a different swamp, this time on the outskirts of Stonard. His path meandered and a familiar face came into view from behind the shadows of a knotty bog tree. What follows is an account of their meeting.
Khorvis grunted at Addikus.
"What ye got fer me, Grim?" the rogue questioned, annoyed that he had been summoned so rudely and without prior notice.
Khorvis tried his hand at diplomacy. "Such haste! I salute quickness in the march!"
Addikus cracked his jaw, clearly unswayed.
Scowling, the warrior the muttered and continued his rounds. "Walk with me, deathstalker. The marsh will be our ally this night." Shrugging, the forsaken followed with an odd spring in his step.
"Your leg is repaired?" the warrior inquired.
"Aye." Addikus hitched up his pant leg, revealing a long row of stitches.
"The wonders of our healers will never cease," Khorvis marveled. "Who managed it? They should be given a commendation!"
"Fanyare did a fine job of it. I'm stuck with the open flesh, but at least I can run fast as I used te." Addikus narrowed his eyes at Khorvis. "Somethin' different about ye."
The pair had come to a tended campfire, shielded from the ever-present rain clouds by a rough lean-to. Khorvis noted the name and looked out into the swamp furtively while Addikus smoothed his pant leg back down. "There is a ... danger, lurking nearby, rogue."
"What?" He casually put his palms on the hilts of his weapons.
"You cannot see it with your waking eyes," the warrior warned. He sat down on the dried sod with a thump and set his axe on the earth next to him.
Addikus was obviously not in the mood to be led around. "What do ye speak of?"
Continuing, Khorvis spoke, "It drove us through the Portal so many years ago, into these swamps. We stalked through the, just as you do through the shadows. I speak of corruption, Addikus."
The rogue hummed a noncommittal assent, staring into the fire and listening.
Bloodstar eyed him up and down, then confessed, "The priestess Valindria has a thought, and I do think she has the right of it. Have you witnessed the vileness that is the Sha?"
"Ye know I have," Addikus responded succinctly.
Nodding, Khorvis prodded further. "I know that you have fought its tendrils with your blades." He stammed for a moment, searching for words. An egret warbled in the marsh.
"Ain't that what ye mean? Or ye talkin' about somethin' else?"
"I speak of a different witness," Khorvis said clumsily. "Have you ... felt it in your bones? A vileness in your mind or heart?"
Addikus took a breath as if about to say something, then abruptly closed his mouth. He paused. "What if I have?"
"I take you for no coward, though the dagger would not be my first weapon of choice," Khorvis said defensively.
"Good fer you," Addikus spat.
Growing more confident, the warrior explained: "I have known the touch of this Sha thing, as I do think you have as well. It nearly had me kill Thulgrim Oathbound, were it not for the priestess." He looked down at the mud on his boots and a pained expression of guilt stole onto his features.
(( continued in next post ))
Khorvis grunted at Addikus.
"What ye got fer me, Grim?" the rogue questioned, annoyed that he had been summoned so rudely and without prior notice.
Khorvis tried his hand at diplomacy. "Such haste! I salute quickness in the march!"
Addikus cracked his jaw, clearly unswayed.
Scowling, the warrior the muttered and continued his rounds. "Walk with me, deathstalker. The marsh will be our ally this night." Shrugging, the forsaken followed with an odd spring in his step.
"Your leg is repaired?" the warrior inquired.
"Aye." Addikus hitched up his pant leg, revealing a long row of stitches.
"The wonders of our healers will never cease," Khorvis marveled. "Who managed it? They should be given a commendation!"
"Fanyare did a fine job of it. I'm stuck with the open flesh, but at least I can run fast as I used te." Addikus narrowed his eyes at Khorvis. "Somethin' different about ye."
The pair had come to a tended campfire, shielded from the ever-present rain clouds by a rough lean-to. Khorvis noted the name and looked out into the swamp furtively while Addikus smoothed his pant leg back down. "There is a ... danger, lurking nearby, rogue."
"What?" He casually put his palms on the hilts of his weapons.
"You cannot see it with your waking eyes," the warrior warned. He sat down on the dried sod with a thump and set his axe on the earth next to him.
Addikus was obviously not in the mood to be led around. "What do ye speak of?"
Continuing, Khorvis spoke, "It drove us through the Portal so many years ago, into these swamps. We stalked through the, just as you do through the shadows. I speak of corruption, Addikus."
The rogue hummed a noncommittal assent, staring into the fire and listening.
Bloodstar eyed him up and down, then confessed, "The priestess Valindria has a thought, and I do think she has the right of it. Have you witnessed the vileness that is the Sha?"
"Ye know I have," Addikus responded succinctly.
Nodding, Khorvis prodded further. "I know that you have fought its tendrils with your blades." He stammed for a moment, searching for words. An egret warbled in the marsh.
"Ain't that what ye mean? Or ye talkin' about somethin' else?"
"I speak of a different witness," Khorvis said clumsily. "Have you ... felt it in your bones? A vileness in your mind or heart?"
Addikus took a breath as if about to say something, then abruptly closed his mouth. He paused. "What if I have?"
"I take you for no coward, though the dagger would not be my first weapon of choice," Khorvis said defensively.
"Good fer you," Addikus spat.
Growing more confident, the warrior explained: "I have known the touch of this Sha thing, as I do think you have as well. It nearly had me kill Thulgrim Oathbound, were it not for the priestess." He looked down at the mud on his boots and a pained expression of guilt stole onto his features.
(( continued in next post ))
Last edited by Khorvis on Mon Feb 18, 2013 11:25 am, edited 1 time in total.
Re: The Grog
Addikus folded his arms and tilted his head. "I wonder. Used to be ye couldn't throw a rock without hittin' a pair of Grim what were fightin' each other, and that was before the Sha. Maybe the Sha be doin' something, maybe they don't be. How can ye know?"
"I gave to Valindria a severed piece of my hide, after my battle with the death knight," Khorvis said. "Through whatever tests and study she did, the results speak of a threat more dangerous than rivalry."
"I see."
Khorvis continued, "It is turning our own blades against our comrades, and stripping us of our senses and control."
Addikus rolled his neck until it popped and dropped his hands back to his sides. "And ye mean to do something about it?"
"I can think of only one thing," Khorvis mused. "When the blood curse burned in the Horde's veins, we directed our rage into useful pursuits. We went hunting. Here, through the portal."
Addikus absentely applied a fresh dose of poison to his blades. "Aye, I've been on the wrong side of an Orc attack. Can't say I noticed yer lot fightin' each other when they came after us."
"You have also been on the right side of one. It is said that, for a time, you led the Grim's fight against the Alliance." The warrior looked questioningly at his companion.
"That's so," the rogue admitted.
Khorvis shifted his shoulders in his armor, clearly aware of his new rank while Addikus seemed to stiffen up a little at the mention of his past role as a leader.
"I intend to focus the Grim's attacks very soon," the orc declared. "To keep their minds from wandering into taint and corruption and to light upon the real enemy."
Addikus nodded with understanding.
"I will need a second in command for this venture, for it is not unlikely that I will fall in battle."
Addikus crossed one hand to the other, twisting the golden ring on his right hand, while Khorvis tared at the rogue through his facemask, his eyes briefly flashing crimson.
The rogue snapped to attention, his eyes suddenly bright and alert, staring at Khorvis.
"Will you once again take up the mantle of leadership, deathstalker? Will you take the rank of Dreadweaver?"
Addikus muttered something about getting back to the pinkskin. "Let me think about this fer a second. Grim's got me fightin' mogu, and mantid, and sha. Now ye be askin' me to take up part of yer own burden."
Khorvis grunted sourly. "It is not just my burden. If our forces fall to the Alliance, the mogu and insects will no longer matter."
Catching a mosquito, Addikus closed his fist around it. "It might be that I know a thing or two about fightin' the Alliance. Even of leadin' Grim. And it might even be..."
The Irredeemable continued to press. "You are well-trained in the art of tracking foes and stealth. This is a hunt and your abilities will shine!"
"Of course me abilities will shine, but I don't be no orc. I ain't the type what fights fer the sake of honor."
Khorvis roared in annoyance and kicked a clump of sod into the firepit.
"I can help ye lead Grim, Irredeemable, but there be something I need too."
Looking sideways at Addikus, Khorvis spat. "What will it be then, rogue? Gold? Casks of grog?"
"Nay. Something simple. Somethin' ye might have done anyway."
Khorvis straightened and tugged on his tabard, glaring.
"I need the heads of three men. Phineaus, Poe, and Mathias Shaw. Big game, those ones. Even fer ye. Ye give me yer word you';ll help me slay those three, and ye got me on the battlefield."
The warrior scratched his goatee underneath his mask, clearly thinking. "I may have a better idea, deathstalker."
"What's that?" Addikus peered over inquisitively.
"We spend two weeks training in the hunt. Train how to ambush and scalp. We focus our Blight Serpents into a razor sharp dagger."
Khorvis grinned at the rogue. "And we slip it into the spines of your three targets."
Taken aback, Addikus exclaimed, "Ye mean ye will lend me not just yerself, but all of the Serpents?"
The orc chuckled deeply. "You did say that I may done done this anyway, Dreadweaver."
....
And so it came to pass that Irredeemable Bloodstar took his first Dreadweaver in the Swamp of Sorrows, and together they began to plan their first Onslaught.
"I gave to Valindria a severed piece of my hide, after my battle with the death knight," Khorvis said. "Through whatever tests and study she did, the results speak of a threat more dangerous than rivalry."
"I see."
Khorvis continued, "It is turning our own blades against our comrades, and stripping us of our senses and control."
Addikus rolled his neck until it popped and dropped his hands back to his sides. "And ye mean to do something about it?"
"I can think of only one thing," Khorvis mused. "When the blood curse burned in the Horde's veins, we directed our rage into useful pursuits. We went hunting. Here, through the portal."
Addikus absentely applied a fresh dose of poison to his blades. "Aye, I've been on the wrong side of an Orc attack. Can't say I noticed yer lot fightin' each other when they came after us."
"You have also been on the right side of one. It is said that, for a time, you led the Grim's fight against the Alliance." The warrior looked questioningly at his companion.
"That's so," the rogue admitted.
Khorvis shifted his shoulders in his armor, clearly aware of his new rank while Addikus seemed to stiffen up a little at the mention of his past role as a leader.
"I intend to focus the Grim's attacks very soon," the orc declared. "To keep their minds from wandering into taint and corruption and to light upon the real enemy."
Addikus nodded with understanding.
"I will need a second in command for this venture, for it is not unlikely that I will fall in battle."
Addikus crossed one hand to the other, twisting the golden ring on his right hand, while Khorvis tared at the rogue through his facemask, his eyes briefly flashing crimson.
The rogue snapped to attention, his eyes suddenly bright and alert, staring at Khorvis.
"Will you once again take up the mantle of leadership, deathstalker? Will you take the rank of Dreadweaver?"
Addikus muttered something about getting back to the pinkskin. "Let me think about this fer a second. Grim's got me fightin' mogu, and mantid, and sha. Now ye be askin' me to take up part of yer own burden."
Khorvis grunted sourly. "It is not just my burden. If our forces fall to the Alliance, the mogu and insects will no longer matter."
Catching a mosquito, Addikus closed his fist around it. "It might be that I know a thing or two about fightin' the Alliance. Even of leadin' Grim. And it might even be..."
The Irredeemable continued to press. "You are well-trained in the art of tracking foes and stealth. This is a hunt and your abilities will shine!"
"Of course me abilities will shine, but I don't be no orc. I ain't the type what fights fer the sake of honor."
Khorvis roared in annoyance and kicked a clump of sod into the firepit.
"I can help ye lead Grim, Irredeemable, but there be something I need too."
Looking sideways at Addikus, Khorvis spat. "What will it be then, rogue? Gold? Casks of grog?"
"Nay. Something simple. Somethin' ye might have done anyway."
Khorvis straightened and tugged on his tabard, glaring.
"I need the heads of three men. Phineaus, Poe, and Mathias Shaw. Big game, those ones. Even fer ye. Ye give me yer word you';ll help me slay those three, and ye got me on the battlefield."
The warrior scratched his goatee underneath his mask, clearly thinking. "I may have a better idea, deathstalker."
"What's that?" Addikus peered over inquisitively.
"We spend two weeks training in the hunt. Train how to ambush and scalp. We focus our Blight Serpents into a razor sharp dagger."
Khorvis grinned at the rogue. "And we slip it into the spines of your three targets."
Taken aback, Addikus exclaimed, "Ye mean ye will lend me not just yerself, but all of the Serpents?"
The orc chuckled deeply. "You did say that I may done done this anyway, Dreadweaver."
....
And so it came to pass that Irredeemable Bloodstar took his first Dreadweaver in the Swamp of Sorrows, and together they began to plan their first Onslaught.