Abdication

The stories and lives of the Grim. ((Roleplaying Stories and In Character Interactions))
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Awatu
The Commander
Posts: 2402

Abdication

Unread post by Awatu » Thu Sep 26, 2019 2:17 am

Contempt was all that Awatu could feel as he watched, for the second time, Anduin Wrynn pass through the gates of Orgrimmar. Confusion swept through the city. Guards and peons alike, wondering what was happening. Saurfang was dead, but where was Sylvanas?

Criers from the wall announced the news of the Banshee Queen's words and her sudden flight away from the gates. Swiftly, activity began to wash over the city as the gravity of the situation settled upon the dusty roads. The Warchief was gone. She had abandoned her position. She was without honor.

Within the chaos, Awatu stepped away from the roads, down one of the valleys of the Orcish stronghold. Honor meant little to the Shu'halo. His concern was more with the public opinion and the sway of the leaders. If Thrall and Baine continue their agendas, then they will likely seek a peace conference with the Alliance. Considering the burning of Teldrassil and the presence of the Kal'dorei and Gilneans within the Alliance, there is still uncertainty as to the permanence of any treaty.

Good.

Treaties are just paper and Warchiefs are just people. The Grim do not follow people, nor do they follow papers. They follow ideals. The Mandate. Peace may be written out, but it will not last. It will be just as flimsy and delicate as the paper it is written upon. The wretched Alliance will plot against the Horde and take what is not theirs. The flames of war are not yet quenched. Another spark can set off an inferno.

Reaching for his hearthstone, Awatu gave an order for all Grim to hear:

"The leadership of the Horde is in disarray. Our favor is waning, but we are not through yet. Be still and observe. Though the Horde and Alliance may once again seek a peace agreement, we shall not allow it to stand in the way of the Mandate. Our mission persists. We do not answer to leadership of the Horde. We act with the Mandate. We do what must be done.

Peace through annihilation."


Awatu made his way to the edge of the city, to take flight towards Mulgore. He was curious what other Shu'halo thought of this matter.

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Duskheron
Dreadweaver
Posts: 924

Re: Abdication

Unread post by Duskheron » Fri Sep 27, 2019 7:24 pm

((Note: some mild spoilery stuff if you haven't seen the 8.2.5 cinematics))
"The leadership of the Horde is in disarray. Our favor is waning, but we are not through yet. Be still and observe. Though the Horde and Alliance may once again seek a peace agreement, we shall not allow it to stand in the way of the Mandate. Our mission persists. We do not answer to leadership of the Horde. We act with the Mandate. We do what must be done.

Peace through annihilation."
She had not been invited to the funeral of Saurfang, so she watched the spectacle being held in front of Grommash Hold from a balcony high on the eastern wall.

Duskheron took in a deep breath, filling her lungs, and held it. Her emotions and thoughts flying by so fast she could barely identify them as they passed. She could feel nearby fire elementals below Orgrimmar being pulled upward, lured by her seething hatred, frustration, contempt, and pain. Alliance here, in Orgrimmar. The boy king, and the white haired witch, here. As if they had not attacked us at every turn this last year. And the Horde, the cattle, just standing there. They could rise up, they could cut down the two leaders of the Alliance, but they won't. Sylvanas understood that. Duskheron had seen that sudden realization in her eyes before she had fled. Or had she? Duskheron still needed to sift through her memories and reevaluate Sylvanas' words and actions.

She released the breath, slowly, purposely. She saw her clenched fists and forced them open and relaxed those muscles.

She noted the pain in her heart, and subdivided it further. Betrayal. Most of all, betrayal by the Warchief. Sylvanas had been the Warchief that had FINALLY seemed to know what needed to be done for the future and was willing to do what was necessary to achieve it. Yes, she had made errors that had gotten Horde killed unnecessarily, but at the time, they had seemed mere sacrifices towards the final goal. The burning of Teldrassil had been glorious.

But Sylvanas' incoherent babbling before her assembled loyalists in the Ghostlands after her abrupt escape, confirmed that the woman was mad, or possibly possessed. She is merely a frightened child, cowering in the dark, begging not to die. Pretending to be powerful. Pretending to have everyone's best interest at heart, until that cursed Saurfang exposed her. Yanking her costume off like a Hallow's End trick-or-treeting toddler pretending to be a fierce dragon.

Duskheron's anger flared hot again. Anger at him for exposing Sylvanas. Anger at Sylvanas for betraying the Horde. Anger at herself for being fooled. Yes. She noted. Much of her anger was self-directed. She hated that there was also a tinge of gratitude to Saurfang for exposing her.

Duskheron's jaw creaked audibly as she forced it to open slightly, ordering those muscles to relax. She felt them clenching again and monitored them until they obeyed.

Below, the hated witch created a portal through which the Alliance leaders departed. The cattle dispersed slowly. She watched as Thrall and Baine talked together.

More leaders she had once admired, and now despised.

Excess water formed in her eyes as she watched Baine, threatening to leak out as tears. A vivid memory of herself, a young, poor, dark-furred tauren, bubbled up into her thoughts. She remembers watching from a tent as the chieftain's handsome young son strutted by with a group of his friends. She had wanted him, just as all other girls her age had. She had thought of him as the ideal tauren. Handsome, powerful, wise. He and his father spoke of a peaceful future she had dreamed of for many years. She remembers how the brightness of the sun had gleamed off his horns, dazzling her. She had sworn she would follow him anywhere.

Her jaw was clenching tightly again, so hard she grunted at the strain of releasing the tension. It brought her back to the current world. The real world. The not-shiny place where everyone cannot just hug and shake hands and agree to live in peace and harmony and all the bull shit that the cattle below still believed could come true.

She started her meditation techniques over again. Her eyes took in the scene below, but her mind had finally started to clear. She drew in one last, large inhalation and released it in a giant sigh.

The orc standing next to her, the owner of the home she stood in, spat on the floor. She looked over at him, his face scrunched up in disgust at the scene below.

She smiled sadly at him, then patted him softly on the shoulder. "Our work continues. This is not the first setback, nor, I fear, the last. We can only follow The Mandate. Thank you for the use of your home, my friend."

He nodded. "Of course. I only wish I could do more." He subconsciously shifted his weight from his wooden prosthetic leg, though his eyes never left hers.

"Find others who know this fake peace cannot last. Sow what dissent you can. The Horde must survive. Peace through annihilation." She bowed her head to him, and exited quickly.

"Peace through annihilation," he replied, closing the door behind her.
Grobbulus Grim: Tisk
WRA Grim: Duskheron Zolotai

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