A Trial of Combat for Gorthag Bloodscar

The stories and lives of the Grim. ((Roleplaying Stories and In Character Interactions))
Gorthag
Posts: 8

A Trial of Combat for Gorthag Bloodscar

Unread post by Gorthag »

A red drakescale rests upon your newly assigned bunk in the barracks of the Grim Halls. It has the weight of a newborn gnome and the girth of a dinner plate. Rough twine secures to it a note scrawled in blocky orcish, penned with incarnadine ink. The message reads:

Supplicant Gorthag,

You come to our ranks from a broken Clan. The Mandate feasted upon the entrails of your forebears on the shores of Bladefist Bay. Your puny brain must know that my axe cleaved the skulls of those who would call you kin. Walk without fear - I have rent the same fate in my own, the Blackrock.

And yet, the Mandate will not suffer unskilled fools who would stab their own boot with a pike. Only those with a dark prowess in combat may hope to pass into the ranks of the Adherents. You will show to me this power in a Trial of Combat. Show to your superiors heroism in Draenor. Leave no dungeon untouched by the Mandate, and I just may grant another ration for your berth. Fail me, and you will dine upon the Lash!

Dreadweaver Bloodstar

Gorthag spits at the mere mention of his former clan. The Dragonmaw betrayed him long ago and The Grim's revelation of their culling brought him no pain nor joy, it was inevitable. Only the strong survive, that is the way of things, that is why he must grow strong as well. Gorthag reaches over to the Axes he was sleeping next to and ran his fingers over the blade. The Inquisitor was right, they are dull. Long had they been buried in the skulls of the Iron Horde and the fierce beasts of Draenor. Now, however, it was time to replace them and the shoddy dented armor he had been using. He could find better ones, or even make them. The Dragonmaw hadn't been completely useless, they taught him how to wield a blacksmith's hammer as well as a great axe. It was time, he got up and started to put on the battleworn plate. He strapped on his axes and headed to the door. There was blood to be spilled, and his axes were always thirsty.
Gorthag
Posts: 8

Re: A Trial of Combat for Gorthag Bloodscar

Unread post by Gorthag »

Gorthag entered his bunk and placed his new axes on the bed. His gear was now up to par at least for now, greater challenges would of course require further labors. He removed his helm and plate and put them on a nearby armor stand. His challenges had been great but they were nearly at an end. He had managed thus far to meet up with groups of wayfarers looking for aid, it was a routine he was comfortable with in his life as a wandering mercenary. Now he had other challenges he must face, and the aid of his new comrades were needed. Khorvis's orders had him delve the dungeons of Draenor and there were a few that still needed to feel the wrath of the mandate. The ogres of the Bloodmaul Slag Mines, the Iron Horde base at the Grimrail Depot, and the older incarnation of Gorthag's former clan in the Upper Blackrock Spire. He reached into the drawer of a crude desk in the corner pulled out a small piece of parchment and wrote in rough but legible script:

Aid needed to storm the dungeons of Draenor! Any able bodied Grim willing and able to form a party contact Gorthag Bloodscar over hearthstone.

Gorthag read the parchment over and nodded to himself. He walked to the tavern's bulletin board and hammered it into a visible space. He strode back to his bunk cracked his neck and put back on his plate and axes. There was blood to be spilled and there was no time to rest.
Gorthag
Posts: 8

Re: A Trial of Combat for Gorthag Bloodscar

Unread post by Gorthag »

Gorthag stumbled wearily into his bunk, undoing his plate as he walked. He tossed the blood-stained armor on the floor and his similarly painted axes. Now only in his smallclothes he fell to his rude cot and let out a labored breath. The wounds of his battles still marked his flesh, his blood oozed from some deeper cuts, while others were already healing. Every inch of his body hurt, his skin was already littered with scars, a road map of past battles. These new additions would merely add fresh routes. Gorthag got up slowly, wincing with pain, one of his ribs was probably broken. He reached over to a small chest beside his bed and pulled out some thick bandages soaked with healing salves. He began to wrap them around his body delicately and deliberately. The Inquisitor had asked for a report, and Gorthag meant to give one. Once fully bandaged Gorthag shifted himself to the stool in front of his desk and pulled out a quill and parchment. He wrote:

The dungeons of Draenor were assailed as ordered. The larger portion was done by myself with the assistance of wandering mercenaries, some of them mad. The final three, and arguably most problematic were conquered with the aid of my fellow Grim. The Bloodmaul Slag Mines felt the mandate, aided by High Inquisitor Syreena, Ruuki, and Daxxum and a lone mad mercenary. The final two hurdles were crossed with another group of Grim. These were Inquisitor Khorvis, again Ruuki and Daxxum, Lupinum, Jafylas, and the new supplicant Malhavik. The groups led victorious assaults in the Upper Blackrock Spire and Grimrail Depot respectively.

The Bloodmaul Slag Mines were assailed with little difficulty with each fight needing only one or two attempts save the last which took three. The Upper Blackrock Spire was difficult, however the battles were done fairly quickly. I fell in nearly every one owing to some foolish mistake on my part. However the dungeon was successfully conquered and the Blackrock's fel plans were foiled. The Grimrail depot held a challenge in the battle against Nitrogg Thundertower, however the mighty foe was felled and then the train derailed shortly after. With that the first portion of my trial was complete.


Gorthag took the parchment and placed it on the desk. He shift back towards his cot and pulled on a pair of linen breeches he had tossed there after he awoke that morning. He got up again wincing at his broken rib. He had embellished the report only slightly, he felt it best not to mention every time he fell or was cut. The Inquisitor was there, he knew of the dangers they faced and he had led them through brilliantly. Gorthag lurched out his door and walked towards the reports delivery box. He wrote "Attention: Inquisitor Khorvis" on the back of the parchment and place it upside down. He walked slowly back to his bunk, luckily the tavern was empty, or at least the main area was. He crossed the threshold of his room and with some effort lifted his armor onto its stand. Then he walked over to his cot and laid down. Gorthag closed his eyes, eager for rest. There still was much to do, but not tonight. Tonight he would sleep.
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Khorvis
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Posts: 1745
Location: Lincroft, NJ

Re: A Trial of Combat for Gorthag Bloodscar

Unread post by Khorvis »

Khorvis was in good cheer when he sat down at this large writing desk to pen a response to Gorthag's trial. He had just returned from a night of carousing in liberated Orgrimmar's new taverns, which had appeared in the wake of the Siege cleanup, thanks to fresh infusions of goblin gold. Resting a monstrous half-emptied ale tankard on the desk's corner, the orc set to work:
Supplicant Gorthag,

Your Dragonmaw blood does run runneth runny with the fires. Big fires! The axe that you do swing whistles like the wild caw caw crow of Azsharan coast. Damn the fel, I do love those birds. So free! Time for you to make new comrades and get some learning. Speak with these Grim:

Reaper Valindria: She is a shining white thing, hard to miss. Very knowledgeable. Do not irk her mood for she is like as not to rip your tusks out.

Harbinger Aquizit: What was once a goatsucking felmancer now wields a blade of Light. Find out why, and how this is good for the Mandate. It is.

Dreadweaver Atticus Grace: An old hand and dear comrade. Do not attempt to out-drink, for he does have a hollow leg. Blade's truth.

Learn from these proven Grim the meaning of the Mandate, some of their past if they do let you, and report back to me.

Bloodstar
After laying down his pen, Khorvis drained the rest of his tankard and promptly vomited all over the letter. Shrugging to himself, he sealed the note and tossed it into the vacuum chute.

(( Sorry for the late reply. Holidays and a brief ER visit slowed down my pace. Still, good work on your first trial. ))
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