Post by Morec0
(( It's 12 in the morning where I'm at but not even that will stop me from bringing you Light and Death! And gratz to me, just finished OS, my first raid finished :D
Page 13 ))
- “A very interesting tale,” the orc – a shaman named Thrrag Earthbreaker – said, throwing another log onto the fire that lit the cave where he made his home. “Between the Scourge and the Dreadlord Zarrok, I’d say you’ve made quite a few enemies.”
- “It happens,” Nilon responded, “but at least we are enemies with the right people.”
- “True,” Thrrag said, “however, I have learned that it’s best to have no enemies, and to let the fate of the world progress on its own. The only reason I bother hunting the Dreadlord is because he posed a threat to
my safety.”
- “Then why did you help us?” Celen asked.
- “I didn’t,” Thrrag replied. “I was after the Dreadlord only, you and the Scourge just got in the way.”
- “So,” Nilon spoke again, “that’s why you’re hiding in this swamp, living in this cave.”
- “That is only part of the story,” the orc replied. “I was once a member of the Warsong Clan, a talented shaman, loved and respected by all. But during the Third War things became… hectic, and I was forced to make a choice: die or live. I chose to live.”
- “So,” Nilon said, “you ran from battle?”
- “Did I say that?” Thrrag shook his head. “No, Blood Elf, I did not, I never have, and I never will. Trust me when I tell you that there is not a living orc – save maybe Warcheif Thrall himself – that is braver then I am. I just found my existence among others to have become unbearable.” He scratched his wolf companion behind her ears. “So I and Mistwalker chose to live out the rest of our lives here.”
- Nilon looked into the dancing flames of the orc’s campfire. Thrrag had been generous in giving them shelter for the coming night, but he had been clear on one condition: they had to leave at first light.
- “We should take turns watching at the cave’s mouth, just in case the Scourge or something else shows up.”
- The orc laughed. “You need not worry about your undead foes or the Dreadlord. To this day, I haven’t met a soul that can survive the wrath of the elements.” He tossed another log onto the fire, sending sparks flying upwards.
- …
- Arceus strolled across the freshly laid soil.
Some Death Knight, he thought, let a bit of dirt stop him. He spat on the ground. I
suppose I’ll have to tell Lord Itheac about his failure. The Rogue sighed, and then turned to leave.
- Just as a plated hand burst out of the earth.
- Immediately Arceus hurried over and helped Morec pull his way towards the surface. Garen, John, and Zarrok broke through next.
- “You survived!” Arceus exclaimed. “But, how?”
- “You underestimate my power, Rogue,” Morec said.
- “Foolish Shaman,” the Scourge heard Zarrok mutter, “Will he never learn?”
- “Shaman?” Morec asked.
- “Yes, there is an Orcish Shaman that lives in this swamp as well. I’ve been hunting him for some time now, but he always manages to elude me somehow.”
- “And you didn’t mention him before why?” Arceus asked the Dreadlord.
- “I had not thought of it as an important subject, considering your main goal.
- “But,” Zarrok continued, “now that they think us dead it will be a simple matter to track and kill them. From what I gathered during my time hunting him, the Shaman makes his residence in a cave on the Northern side of the Marsh. I have no doubt that the Paladin you seek will be there as well, the Orc has a habit of assisting travelers.”
- “Aren’t you worried that his ‘spirits’ will warn him that we survived?” Morec asked, “And that we are coming for him?”
- Zarrok grinned. “No, the spirits stopped talking to that one a long time ago.”
- Arceus scratched the rotting flesh on the top of his scalp. “Then, how did he bury you alive like that?” he asked.
- “A very good question,” Zarrok said. “Even if I had the answer, though, I wouldn’t say, now is no the time to discuss the matter.”
- “Fine,” Arceus said, “but, still, how do we plan to reach the Orc’s home? Our steeds fled into the swamp when you four were
defeated and it will be noon of tomorrow if we try to get there on foot.”
- “Then we will acquire new mounts,” Morec said.
- “How?” Arceus said, laughing, “Do you expect to just pull them out of the ground?”
- “Actually,” Morec grinned, “I do.”
- The Death Knight’s hands glowed with necromantic energy, and that energy he directed into the surrounding area. The magic seeped into the earth, and Morec directed his full will into completing the task. When the last bits of the dark spell had disappeared under the surface the soil began to crack, and a rotting claw pulled its body to the surface. A decaying muzzle, spine and tail soon followed, all arranging into place by Morec’s power.
- Dark light filled the eyes of the zombie raptors, and they roared in triumph as their new existence embraced them.
- “There isn’t a mount large enough for you,” Morec said to Zarrok.
- “It matters not,” the Nathrezim replied, “I am strong enough to keep up.”
- “Good,” Morec climbed onto of his new mount. “Let’s ride!”