A Warrior's Path by Durfang

[Keeper Of Lore]

It was only a rough sketch, not artistic by any standards. The parchment it had been drawn upon was creased and worn, the effects of being stuffed at the bottom of an active warrior's pack for weeks taking their toll, a corner of it bore a bloodstain of unidentifyable origin.

"Sul'thraze..."

Durfang muttered the name to himself, studying the image in his hands as he stroked his beard. It was a quiet night in Tanaris, the desert sands were still for the first time since he came to the southern land. His campfire burned low.

"They say it has great power..." he said, thinking out loud as he reached over, picking up the dangerous looking sword that he had leaned up against the log he was sitting on, holding it up to study the runes on its surface. "Sang'thraze the deflector... why is it proving so difficult to find your mate?"

The sword didnt respond, weapons rarely do, but the fire crackled as a slight breeze blew through the orcish warrior's camp. Durfang looked around, studying his surroundings. He had built his camp up against a cliff, so his back was to a reassuring rockface that offered a great deal of protection against any who would strike at him unnoticed. After a few moments of scanning the area, he turned his attention back to the swords in his hands; one real and whole, in his right hand, the other, an image of power in his left.

"Why the warning? Why no explination?" he grumbled, studying the picture again. "Search the archives for a story that I cant seem to find... bah..."

The young warrior set Sang'thraze down beside him and reached for the long branch laying on the sands a few feet away, using it to stir up his dying fire, poking at its heart with an annoyed expression. He had been slaughtering trolls for weeks now and had made no progress in terms of finding the second sword he sought. The desert winds sighed again, offering him no answers or comfort.

[Keeper Of Lore]

"Feel the fury of the sands!"

The trollish chieftan swung his war staff down in a vicious overhead blow, aiming for the heavily armored tauren warrior standing in front of him, but it was to no avail, the tauren simply parried the blow and buried his axes into the chieftan's chest. The troll slumped to the ground.

"Does he have it?" Sewati asked, looking down as the orc, who, while he was large for his race, seemed diminuitive in size when compared to the one who had just escorted him through legions of marauding trolls.

Durfang rolled the bloody mess that had been the sandfury chief but moments before over onto its stomach, his eyes widening as he saw the glint of rune etched metal from the loose leather sheath strapped to the dead troll's back.

"FINALLY! YES!" He roared, ripping the sword out of its sheath and holding it aloft.

The tauren smiled and patted his shoulder.

"Excellent, im glad, now how do you get what you were looking for, it was more than just that little sword wasnt it?"

Durfang nodded, hanging his axe at his belt as he hefted both Jang'thraze and Sang'thraze in his hands, feeling their comforting weight.

"I think they fit together, see the notches where the runes extend?" he said, turning the swords' faces up towards Sewati. "Here goes..."

A deep breath... his hands coming together, clipping the swords into a single piece of enchanted metal... they seemed to fuze to each other instantly, glowing faintly as they shifted and changed in his hands, almost melting into one another, and then... they straightened, became whole, became Sul'thraze The Lasher.

Durfang cradled the blade in his arms, examining the intricate details on its surface, the quality of the edge, the perfect balance that seemed to make the weapon lighter in his hand when he gripped it by the hilt.

"...incredible, ive never seen such a weapon." he breathed, studying his new treasure.

"I dont remember why, but I think that sword is going to cause problems." said Sewati, eyeing the younger warrior. "Maybe you should talk to Warneshi about it, hes from this tribe after all. Royal sandfury blood is in his veins. He was their prince."

"...Warneshi? Allright, I will seek him out." the orc replied as he went about the task of binding the blade up in his travelling blanket and strapping it to his back. "Perhaps he can tell me more about my new sword and why everyone keeps warning me that its so damned dangerous."

[Keeper Of Lore]

Warneshi smiled as he felt the bones beneath his hand give away, he gave a chuckle as he felt the humans neck shatter and go to pulp in his grip. Warneshi dropped the dead human to the ground and surveyed his surrondings. The caravan had been small, lightly guarded however very worth the trouble. It was the human that laid at his feet was the reason for all this trouble, Warneshi could still remember the wound his weapon had left weeks earlier in the arena's. Warneshi had sworn to repay the human for his gift, and he had done so in kind. The rest had been nothing, but they had been present and that enough was a good reason.

Hefting his blades Warneshi gave a whistle as watched as Ses'Thur trotted into view, he made his way to the beast and stopped. A familiar feeling overtook him, a presence had called to him, and he knew it's song. He had been slightly irritated when Ashagga had given blade to the Keepers to be restored to it's rightful imprisonment as the broken blades, but he had waited, someone would restore it. Sul'Thraze cried for it's master, the cry of one to long removed from it's proper place, Warneshi slipped to the Nether and went seeking the Blades location.

Warneshi snarled as his sight could not find it, he knew he had felt it's call, but he could not find it. The Blade was reformed he knew it, he would not be denied his pet. Feeling reality form around him Warneshi opened his eyes as he watched the last amount of color bleed into the world around him. His eyes scanned the room around him, it was rundown it was dusty but it still had the familiar scent in the air. The scent that had always been a great comfort to him and when the final visages of the world came clear to him he knew he could start his hunt from here.

Warneshi left the door of the old Sandfury embassy in Orgimmar and made his way to the Grim halls, he had hunting to do...

[Keeper Of Lore]

(( *mutters* I call metagaming on that! This happened ingame and other RP has happened since involving a few other Grim members. I hate calling a mulligan on stuff like this and hitting rewind but thats what would need to happen if your post remains as it is. The forming of Sul'thraze actually happened several days ago and since then Fang as spoken to Ashagga and Anaie about it, and he currently has it locked away in the Orgrimmar Vault, also, noone but Sewati and Fang were present when the two blades were unified. I would appreciate if we could work out a compromise RPwise rather than having you warp through the nether (and time too I might add ) to take back the sword which is now safely locked away where noone can touch it. Could you edit this post pending an interaction which allows for everyone to continue to take part in the RP? I dont even plan on using the damned thing, hell, im axe/pole specced, but I did want to get a bit more RP going and had hoped to drag it out a little longer. EDIT: In the spirit of continuing this RP, im making your post a dream Warnie, please let this continue according to a timeline that has already been laid down.))



Durfang awoke in a cold sweat, the dream had seemed so real. A demon bursting through the barriers of reality, the sword being wrenched from his grasp by forces he could not identify, the booming voice thanking him for returning Sul'thraze to its rightful owner. It had all seemed too real.

"...but its not." he grunted to himself, shaking his head as he sat up on the rough bear furs he had been sleeping upon. "Its locked away in the vaults, I know it is... I put it there myself, and besides, noone else was there but Sewati and myself."

The warrior got up from where he had fallen asleep in his innroom in Orgrimmar and donned his armor, putting it on piece by piece as he had done a thousand times before. When he had finished adjusting each individual strap and buckle, the young orc shouldered his pack, picked up his spear and left the inn, heading straight for the Orgrimmar Bank building.

One of the orcish bankers nodded to the warrior as he came into the building. He remembered the large bundle that had been brought in and safely tucked away in the vaults just days ago.

"Durfang was it?" he said, eyeing the paleskinned, redeyed orc standing in front of him. "How can I help you?"

"I need to access my section of the vault." came the reply. "I want to see if something I put inside a few days back is still there..."

The banker laughed, patting the warrior on his right pauldron with a large hand.

"Youre joking right?" he scoffed. "This is THE Orgrimmar Bank! What you put here, stays here."

With a grunt, Durfang nodded, smiling slightly.

"Just the same. I want to see for myself."

The banker sighed and shrugged, opening the vault to Durfang's reserved space, motioning for him to help himself. The warrior stepped past him, looking into the vault, his red eyes focused on the large bundle propped up against the wall. He exhaled, feeling comforted.

"Thank you..." he said, nodding to the banker who promptly shut the vault and locked it. "Out of curiosity, are these vaults resistant to magic? Could anyone say... get inside of them by the strange means that mages sometimes use or something of the sort?"

Again, the banker laughed, grinning toothily at the warrior in front of him.

"Allright, now youre just playing with me. This is THE bank. Nothing gets in that isnt supposed to get in. The enchantments on these vaults are the best that can be cast and everything is watched at every moment of every day." he said, chuckling. "Nothing gets in, ever, not even things that can move through time and space. Our security is just that good..."

Durfang smirked slightly, he had been worried for nothing.

"Thank you." he said, turning on his heel.

The banker nodded and turned to one of his co-workers, elbowing the orc in the side with an amused expression as the heavily armed and armored warrior left the building.

"Hey Grog, did you hear what he just said?"

[Keeper Of Lore]

by Warneshi

The air was crisp as it blew down the canyons of Orgrimmars pathways. Warneshi walked slowly with purpose, the wind wiped up his hair making the air around him look like a blaze. As he rounded one of the final turns his objective finally came into view, The Grim Halls.

He had been upset to say the least when he could not locate the Blade, it means someone was hiding it from him and he intended to find out who. Many of The Grims, well at least the seasoned members remembered his Blade and it's significance, and it would not surprise him if several of them may of been keeping tabs on it's whereabouts. Ashagga was the last to have seen it, and even hold it. Warneshi remembered with joy his attempts at corrupting the Orc, however Yichitments logic was strong and his devotion to keeping her safe had been enough to protect her. Warneshi did not care for that anymore however, he had other things to be done now beyond corrupting mortals. Ashagga...she was the last, and perhaps she had some knowledge of who had reforged it now.

Warnshi ducked his head and entered the Grim Halls, he searched the room for Ashagga, or someone he knew could find her.

[Keeper Of Lore]

Warneshi was looking for Ashagga, and he found her. She stepped from the shadows near the back of the room, swords at her hips, her not-eye still glowing the a burning coal, the mark he and his damned sword had left on her. She crossed her arms over her breasts and glared at the Tyrant.

"I 'eard yer was back inna Grim, troll. Congratulations, I s'pose." She looked him over. "What brings yer ter the Grim 'Alls?"

[Keeper Of Lore]

Warneshi eyed the Orc, he did not wish to harbor resentment towards her for the breaking and hiding of his Blade, but he could not help but think of the many things he could do to her before ending her life. Smirking at the Orc Warneshi strode forward letting his form tower over her.

"It hass called to me, it iss remade, who hass it? And where do they keep it."

Warneshi narrowed his gaze and locked eyes with Ashagga, waiting for her reply.

[Keeper Of Lore]

by Karnya

Karnya sat at one of the few tables in the Grims main hall. She had been nursing a tall mug of ale for an hour now. Several maps were laid out in front of her and she was marking them with a small piece of charcoal. A large black wolf lay sleeping underneath the table.



She heard voices and turned her head; she squinted a little and smiled as she saw Ashagga coming from the shadows. Her smile faltered as she saw Warneshi near the doorway. She grumbled and turned back to her charts, nearly toppling her mug.

[Keeper Of Lore]

by Syreena

Syreena was cleaning her weapons when the Tyrant entered. She offered a welcoming smile to him, a smile which faded quickly when she heard his words. The little rogue remembered some of the chatter she heard over the hearthstone a few days ago. So Reg's warning was ignored, she thought.

Silently, she slipped into the shadows and out of the guild hall.

[Keeper Of Lore]

Ashagga glanced around, took comfort in knowing that at least one other Grim was still present. She looked back at the Tyrant, lips pressed into a flat line.

"Last I saw o' yer damned blade, me father 'ad it. 'E's been dead fer about twenny years, so yer welcome ter go lookin' fer it." She was being deliberately antagonistic, and they both knew it. The Keepers of Time had shattered the blade, put it back in Zul'Farrak. Moreover, it HAD been found recently, and the orc knew it. At the same time, she harbored more than a little resentment toward Warneshi, ever since he'd tried to take over her mind after she'd rescued his sword from the Sandfury.

"That all what brings yer back? No 'hello, nice ter see yer, Ashagga, sorry I tried ter send yer ter 'ell'? I's disappointed."

[Keeper Of Lore]

Syreena returned only a short time later. She nodded and smiled to Ashagga and Warneshi and Karnya, but she didn't say anything so as not to interrupt their conversation. The little rogue made her way back to her seat and laid out several small throwing knives on the table. Humming softly to herself, she began the tedious task of cleaning them.

[Keeper Of Lore]

Warneshi smiled at the Orcs words and let his hostile posture slip a bit into his typical slouch.

"My dear Assshagga do not lie to me you of all people should undersstand the Bladess power, I am would not be surprissed if it called to you ass well when it wass remade."

Warneshi smirked at and narrowed his eyes again, focusing all attention of her not-eye. He reached up and ran one of his nails perilously close to the Orc's cheek, only letting it brush it for one second, the same cheek that shared a place underneath the Orc's missing eye.

"The Blade hass touched you ass well ass any otherss whom have held it. It can not be hidden from me for long so I suggesst strongly you tell me whom hass spoken with you about it, and where I may find them."

Warneshi let his hand fall from Ashagga's cheek and returned his gaze to a smile.

"I have misssed you, you know. Your soul stillss callss to me even now, assking for me to releasse it, the thingss that I could do to you Orc could only be mirrored by the finesst artissan on some other canvass. Do not pressume for one second that I have forgotten you, and if it wass not for thesse previouss matterss then my attention would be more...focussed.

Buissnesss before pleassure Asshagga."

Warneshi tilted his head up slightly and scratched his chin, he leaned against the wall and ran his tusks along it a couple times and smiled as he watched a few dead flecks of bone fall away. He waited patiently for the Orc, always smiling as he did.

[Keeper Of Lore]

Ashagga steeled herself against the troll's touch, reacting neither pleasantly nor unpleasantly. She shivered, slightly, at his words, hating to admit that there was some truth in them. Some, but not as much as the Tyrant believed.

"Aye, troll, I still feel the blade callin', but not as much. The Keepers o' Time really broke yer 'old on me. There was a time when I cared about yer, called yer friend. There was a time when I'd 'ave shown you a few tricks, when I'da made yer body me canvas."

She stepped away, turning her back on Warneshi. "That was before. This is now. I don' know who 'as yer damned sword, an' I wouldn' tell yer if I did."

[Keeper Of Lore]

It had been a long day. Hunting always helped to clear his head, and his thoughts were so jumbled over the commotion surrounding his newly discovered treasure that Durfang had simply thrown himself bodily into his training, pushing his limits for days without sleep or reprieve. He was tired, dirty and bloodstained as he entered The Grim's guildhall.

He could hear voices from the commonroom, Ashagga and another that seemed vaguely familiar, though he could not exactly place who it was.

With weary steps, the warrior made his way towards the voices, his plate sabatons clanking heavily on the stone floor as he passed through the doorway, looking around.

"Not often I see so many of my guildmates awake... good evening to you all." he said, nodding to the various Grim members in the commonroom.

[Keeper Of Lore]

Warneshi looked over to the Orc that stepped into the room and glanced over him with not much interest in his eyes. Giving the Orc a nod Warneshi spoke.

"Orc, we are simply holding a disscusssion, quesstionss are being assked..."

Warneshi turned his gaze back to Ashagga and smirked at her.

"And ansswerss being hidden."