Feral by Kromag

[Keeper Of Lore]

Acherontia froze. She did not recognize the heavily accented voice behind her, but she recognized Abric's name. Quickly, she slammed her mask back over her features, schooling them into some semblance of calm, before whispering the words that conjured her Eye and turning to regard the newcomer coolly.

"If you were the enemy, you would have been dead before you got twenty feet into the city," she said with a tiny nod of greeting. She took in the troll's lanky form, towering over her by almost two feet, and the wolf at her side. "I do not believe we have met." The warlock slipped the silent hearthstone back into her pouch and hoped desperately that her words had had some effect on the orc hunter.

[Keeper Of Lore]

Kromag awoke an hour later, the pain shooting through his side and arm were killing him. Using his other hand he felt his ribs, a couple were broken, so were the shoulder and arm. Blowing on his horn he wore at his side he called for his trusty mount.

Using one arm and doing the best he could he hefted himself on the wolf, which then carried him off toward the undercity. Perhaps he could find a healer to tend his wounds. He was in no condition to fight anything this way.

As he rode off, he noticed his calm had regained control. No rage, no anger of any sort. His only desire now was to survive his wounds and get back to his life.

[Keeper Of Lore]

by Chaindog

A sly grin appears across her face. "You got spine. I be liking that, you be a good fit for the Grim. When I be near other Grim, especially new Grim, I like to drop by from time to time to see how they be doing. You seem upset, if there is something you be needing, feel free to ask. Not all of us heartless killers hate everyone."

[Keeper Of Lore]

Acherontia relaxed slightly. The troll seemed to be satisfied with her quick reply, but she had not heard anything further from Kromag. Melchisedech was still in Thunder Bluff, somewhere, but she was not certain that the orc could NOT track him from wherever he was.

The one in front of her, though...perhaps she had run with Kromag at one point or another. Perhaps she would know. And one thing was for certain - the Eye was not serving Acherontia nearly as well as her fel-sight could.

Banishing the glowing orb, she twisted her mouth into an amused grin. "Very well, I suppose I shall make my introduction first." Inclining her head, she spoke her name. "Acherontia." She carefully watched the troll's aura for any strange flickers and nodded at the wolf at her side. "Tell me, hunter, are you a blood tracker as well?"

[Keeper Of Lore]

Kromag made it to the healers in the Undercity, his eyes barely able to stay open from the pain. He wanted to sleep, but he could not. The healers did their jobs but they could not cure the fatigue and they warned him he needed time to rest.

Leaving the Undercity Kromag went out deep into Tirisfal Glades. He found a place in the middle of the darker woods, somewhere nothing would bother him. Finding a tree he climbed it, climbed high to the safety of the upper branches. Once in place he sent his wold away, it would go a ways out but never too far. Laying back against the tree Kromag passed out fast and hard.


His dreams came and went, pain and suffering being the brunt of it all. Visions of killing alliance and horde flashed through his mind. Destruction, death, bloodlettings the likes of which have never been seen. A village burning, and Kromag walking out his body covered head to toe in the blood of those he has killed.

He woke up sweating heavily, body aching, he looked about. Closing his eyes he drifted off to sleep, hoping that the next set of dreams would be better.

[Keeper Of Lore]

Chaindog raises an eyebrow, "A blood tracker? No, I be more of a scent tracker. My name be Chaindog, I be a Dreadweaver of the Grim."

[Keeper Of Lore]

Acherontia smiled again, feeling the expression on her face as a garment that did not fit correctly. "I am honored to make your acquaintance. I am sorry, one of our guildmates who is also a hunter has used that term before. I do not know how rare a talent it is." A Dreadweaver. Surely she would know. "Kromag is his name. He answers to you, does he not?"

[Keeper Of Lore]

"Yes, I know this Kromag you speak of. As for him be answering to me? It not be that simple. Each hunter be different, be race, be upbringing, and even be their life. I have always had a master, so I be using that title when talking to a superior. Others be total loners and become lost to the wilds. They only gather when I request it. Others be mates and be never seen apart from each other."

"What be dis about Kromag you be talking about? You no make yourself prey did you?"

[Keeper Of Lore]

Acherontia folded her arms and looked to one side, chuckling softly. "It seems I have much to learn about the Grim. As for the orc..." Her mind raced. She did not want to be around one of the Grim's officers any more than she wanted to throw herself from the mountain. But for all she knew, Melchisedech was still in danger. She did not know for certain if Kromag's particular affliction enabled him to be able to track Melchisedech all the way across Kalimdor, but she would not risk it. "I do not believe he would harm me. He does have a certain...temper about him, though, and I fear he has unleashed it upon Melchisedech. He is a priest of the Grim." The warlock fixed Chaindog with her black stare. "I do not know how lightly threats are taken. I have heard them before, from Grim to Grim, and do not know if anything came of them." It was difficult to read this one. "He has gone beyond reason. If you know enough about him to know how to handle him, I would appreciate your advice."

[Keeper Of Lore]

"We be talking the hunter kind or be the orc demon blood kind?"

[Keeper Of Lore]

Acherontia paused. "...I do not know. Truthfully, I believe it is worse than either of those. It does not seem to be something common to all hunters or all orcs. I ask your advice in the event that you know him beyond his skills as a hunter or his reputation as an orc."

[Keeper Of Lore]

"I be knowing nothing of his past. If it be a hunter thing, treat him like an animal. Have him fight till his axe arm grows heavy, til he can be fighting no more. Only when he be burning through his rage will he be weak. If it be the orc demon blood, you have bigger problems on your hands. Yichimet be who you seek. His wisdom you should seek." she says.

She pauses a moment thinking, "Perhaps you could be trying an orc that has once had the demon blood. Skash be a good choice, but he not being around lately."

Chaindog shrugs, "What you be doing up to you. Be aware that you not get in over your head. Hunters trap, corner, kill and take what they be wanting. It's what I do and what I be teaching to those that be asking."

Chaindog whistles for Gutwrench as he wandered off earlier. "One last piece of advice, use what you have to your advantage. You be a warlock, think on it. If you have need of me, use be using that hearthstone and I will come."

[Keeper Of Lore]

Acherontia swallowed nervously. Kromag's axe arm seemed to be as big around as Melchisedech was himself. She knew they could not wait for the hunter to exhaust himself. The orc was an animal. He had to be thrown off the scent. Flight, then, was the only choice, until Kromag was himself again. Both she and Melchisedech together could not bring him down, not while he was gripped by the bloodlust. There was only flight.

Acherontia nodded to Chaindog. "Thank you, sister. Slay well." She walked between the tents towards the middle of Hunter Rise, pulling her hearthstone from her pouch. As she lifted it to her lips, she was stopped in her tracks by the thought that seemed to taint the very air around her and shake her to her core.

Atropos could stop him.

She stood motionless, her hearthstone frozen at her lips. No. She would not unleash another monster to defeat one. Not after Arathi. Not even if that was what it would take. She did not even know if the power was within her grasp anymore.

A faint shudder coursed through her as she remembered the syrupy weight of the demonic tongue in her mouth, the screams of her victims, their convulsing bodies as they writhed on the ground at her feet. If she listened close enough...she could almost hear their bones shatter.

No.

Focusing her thoughts on the priest, Acherontia spoke his name into the stone.

[Keeper Of Lore]

Melchisedech peered at his pouch, frowning a bit at the interruption from the massive tome before him. In the shadows of the Pools of Vision beneath the Spirit Rise, the priest closed the book he was studying and plucked his hearthstone from the pouch.

"I am here, Acherontia. How may I assist you?"

[Keeper Of Lore]

"I am-...Meet me-..." She stopped walking. "A moment."

Concentrating on the orc, she spoke into the stone again. "Kromag?"

No answer.

"Kromag."

Nothing.She started walking again. "Melchisedech, where are you?"