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Silver lining dropped him off alone. Ruby stayed in the Crossroads to watch over Throatrender and Grimtide didn't need back up for this hunt. He watched the Cloud Serpent fly up, then circle the area in case he needed a quick getaway. He checked his gear further and moved off into the woods of Ashenvale...

Moving silently was ever a natural thing to him, but in recent times was a lot harder due to his lost foot. He'd attached the spindly limb with druidic runes again as this was his most stealthy option at the moment. He had made a small offering to the spirits of the Wilds as well as Air and Earth to help him in this hunt and so far he'd been completely undetected. 
Grimtide knew full well he was deep in enemy territory here, and the night elves were likely to be hostile should they discover him. That's why he was moving through the thicker brush and staying low, crawling where he had to. He sniffed the air, looking for that telltale musky scent...

Dressing in dark armour during the day wasn't his smartest camouflage but his reptile skin cloak at least helped him blend in a bit more. And during the day his chances of ambush were smaller. Finding tracks also wasn't too hard. A pack had moved through here not long ago. Tracks and scat were plentiful. Getting his blade in position for a quickdraw he set of after them, looking behind him to see small gusts of wind erasing his own tracks. Seems the elements were at least prepared to aid him that far...

There were at least 7 individuals in the pack. So far he'd found tufts of fur of that many individuals, including a dark furred one, which was lucky. Studying the tracks he realized one of them was limping. Trying to not use one of its hindlimbs at all. There was a faint hint of rot to its tracks. A dying animal. If it wasn't the dark furred one he might try putting it out of its misery...

From his vantage point amidst the woods Grimtide looked out at the pack. This might be an issue.. The dark furred one was indeed the dying one. Must have been impressive in its time, the former alpha. Left outside the pack structure now, slinking along in its wake as the new alpha asserted command. But even in pain and weakened it was a big beast. Meaty shoulders and a thick neck. Could he take it alone though...

As stealthy as he could, he moved in closer to the wounded beast. He quietly drew his sword, lined up his strike, and moved in.
Straight into the jaws of the beast. It reared up as he charged and swept a clawed paw at him, which Grimtide narrowly blocked. The dance thus began..

A low strike at the belly was turned aside by its jaws, slashing open the lip. It retaliated by lunged bodily into Grimtide, shoulder barging the orc off his feet. His blade got locked between its teeth as he parried a bite to the throat. pushing back with all his strength he managed to get to his knees, at which the wolf retreated before lunging again. Grimtide rolled under the attack, slashing his sword. Coming to a halt, the wolf slumped down. Blood leaking from its throat. Then it went down hard.
Panting, Grimtide struggled to his feet and approached the big beast. He pulled out a knife and knelt next to the wolf.
"Great hunter, I thank you for your sacrifice. Rest now, knowing that your fight has ended. Your strength will become mine. Your flesh will sustain me. Rest now, my friend. I shall carry on in your stead. The Black Fur shall show you the way."
The knife flashed and the wolf's heart stopped.

After skinning the creature and packing the meat into packages to be delivered to the butchers of the crossroads, he whistled for Silver Lining.
Time to head back to the Crossroads. And the next big challenge ahead of him.

[WELCOME BACK]

WELCOME BACK

The swamp of Nazmir. Not a great place to be, and certainly not a great place for a burial. The ground squished under my foot, the prostethic kept sinking into the muck.. But I was here for something I'd regretted ever since I came home.
There was not much left of Sharpfang's corpse. Just a few bones and clumps of matted fur. But I wanted to do it anyway. The wolf and I had never had a good bond but she'd got me as far as she'd had and all she got in return was an ignoble death....

Quet'zill and Ruby were nearby but both gave me space to do this by myself. The troll had even questioned my actions, seeing no reason to return after...
But I had to. Too much had happened here, and it haunted me. I was here not only to pay my respects to my fallen companion but also to face my dae'mons. I had run long enough, now it was time to stand and face the shadows of the past.

I stepped out of the little glade, ready to heal. Ready to rejoin my brothers and sisters of the Clan. Ready to do my part once more, for the blood of Red Blade...

[preface]

preface

Coming off the ship ferrying in reinforcements for the war effort Srelok was overwhelmed at the Horde war machine as it was on display in the harbour of Zandalar's Capital, Atal'Dazar. The sheer amount of ships and troops was quite impressive, forcing him to shut himself off emotionally as he led his wolf through the crowded docks. Zandalari trolls and Horde forces bustled about on urgent business or were peddling their wares as he entered the wide plaza. He spotted several absolutely enormous reptillians trudging along, some recognisable as Direhorns, others unknown to him. His wolf, a moody bitch named Sharpfang was having none of it so he tried to soothe her with his mind. As usual, she resisted him, this time making it even harder as he tried to shut off the rest around him. Uneasily, he made his way deeper into the city.

"Ah, ya be lookin' for de embassy den," a Zandalari he had asked for directions answered him. "All 'Orde business be dere. Ya need ta follow de steps up ta de Great Seal."
Srelok thanked the troll and rode towards the steps of the great pyramid the troll had indicated. He made it up multiple tiers, occasionally listening to orating trolls espousing their respective Loa before he was stopped by a large female in armour.
"Wat be ya business 'ere, orc?" He decided truth would get him further.
"I need to visit the embassy at the Great Seal. My mate has gone missing on this continent and I need information to start my search.
She seemed to think it over a second.
"Ya'll be needin' more den information. Ya be needin' a miracle. Much of de island be in a state of war after de Blood Trolls invaded de city."
"You were attacked? That is troubling news. May I pass though?" the troll shrugged and stepped aside, apparently caring little for his quest.

He reached the top of the pyramid a while later. It was massive, topped by a huge stone circular Seal. It was broken and seemed useless. The tier he was on was guarded by Zandalari and Forsaken in heavy armour. This must be the place. Heled the wolf to a stables, then proceeded inside..

"Azguh, you say? Doesn't ring a bell." The Forsaken he was directed to seemed to care little as well. Probably because his troops were still cleaning up the signs of battle at the Embassy. He'd seen many signs of recent struggles on his way up. Apparently the battle had been fierce and desperate. Bad enough to actually rally several Loa themselves to the fight. They'd lost several Loa too, including one called Rezan.
"She was a halfbreed orc. Messenger." his voice softened mildly.
"Hrm... Let me make a few calls. Maybe someone heard something."
"That would be appreciated."
"You can wait nearby or see if you can make yourself.." he peered at Srelok's left leg, the one that clomped strangely and which had a limp, "useful to our allies."
It was a clear dismissal. Srelok grunted and went in search for a place to sleep.

After several hours the Forsaken had him tracked down again. He looked annoyed too. Clearly empathy and compassion were foreign words to him.
"I managed to track down some information for you but I warn you, she's more than likely long dead."
He said this in a gloating manner stirring up Srelok's anger.
"Just spit it out, dead one." that wiped the grin of his face, but replaced it with cold anger.
"Mind your tone grunt. Or the Blightcaller shall hear of your insolance..."
"I'm not a grunt, meatbag. I'm a shaman of the Red Blade." He seemed unimpressed, but moved on to his report.
"It seems your halfbreed was stationed in the jungle outside Dazar'Alor, to the north. In the path of the Blood Troll assault. as I said, an excersise in futility."
Srelok merely grunted and began packing his meager belongings and finding his discarded armour.
"Did you hear me?"
"I did. But I take no word for granted until I see a body."
"Suit yourself. But I can't spare troops to mount a futile search party."
"I travel faster alone." he snorted at that.
"A cripple with light armour and nothing but a spear. We'll not meet again." with those words he stalked off.

Srelok stood at the northern edge of the city, staring into the dense jungle of Zuldazar. He nudged Sharpfang, and set off in search of his mate..

to be continued...

I buckled on my gauntlets. It was a suit of armour I hadn’t worn since the Legion invasion started, one Kargnar had crafted for me. The boots hid my prosthetic well, and allowed me free enough range of movement in a fight. The gauntlets and pauldrons had been set in with emeralds and the whole armour was edged in brass. It was a good suit, it fit my body well and it offered good protection.
Azguh was beside me, eyeing my preparations. She had a skeptical look in her eye, but she radiated worry.
“Sure about this? It could turn out to be absolutely n-“
“It’s not nothing. The world has been in distress since that green monster appeared in the heavens. That’s why we were in Silithus in the first place remember?”
“You promised her you’d stay behind for her.” That was a low blow, and I sighed, placing my wolfmask back on the floor.
“Steelheart is a tough one. She will understand that I have to go.”
“Do you? What is powerful enough to cause the planet itself to go into distress? And what the fel are you going to do against it?” An edge of anger crept into her aura now, a desperation. Who knew, Azguh would actually fear losing me? I almost grinned even though the desperation of the moment was as real as they came.
“I don’t know my love… But I have to do â€"something-. I can’t just sit idly by. I still remember the Cataclysm, and the pain I sensed in the world then. Can you imagine, a world actually crying out in pain?” I picked the mask back up and placed it on my head. There, now I looked like a warrior. If only I could feel like it…
“If you’re going to your death I’m right beside you. But I think we should warn the others.”
My jaw sets at the mention of the others, the outrage at their treatment of my bloodkin still fresh. Even if her actions were against the spirits, against the balance… This was Rhonya, for Grom’s sake. How many times had she set bones, sewn them back up, guided them through the hellholes of Draenor and beyond… And she makes one mistake, just the one.. And she’s treated with scorn, derision, distrust… I could sense their disapproval still, cloaking the Crossroads.
“I’m sure they can think for thems-”
A loud scream was heard and it took me a moment to realize it was me. A huge sense of fear was radiating from the ground itself, and it had driven me to my knees. I looked up at Argus, and sensed more then saw that the planet was receding from the heavens. Some floodgate of unholy energy had opened, and even as I looked I was gripped by a sense of…. Holiness, I guess. Like the light itself was bathing me and Azeroth in its energies. I’d never sensed anything like it…

Just then, something new hove into view. A face, crowned with horns and fire. A sense of pure hatred and rage flooded me, so strong even one not gifted as I was should have felt it.
It grew in the sky until the image filled the heavens themselves and blocked out the Light. The creature had something in his hand. For lack of a better word, a sword, if swords were made the size of a mountain.
The blade plunged down toward the earth, so massive I felt it was about to hit me. As it kept plunging down it started to flare up in flames of hatred, so fierce I was driven down even further.
The impact felt like it cracked the earth itself, dust blowing up and the very earth screamed in agony, a cry I joined. It was driven ever deeper, into the planet, and into me.

The last thing I felt as the darkness of the void engulfed me was the pain of being stabbed in the heart.
So this was what death felt like…

"You are worried."
Azguh's voice came from the edge of the fire I was huddled by, the nights a lot chillier out here then the days. She was right of course, in more ways then one.
"Aye... I am. The whole situation is just bizarre.." I rubbed the stump of my leg to get some feeling again. the sands had chafed away at it all day. She sat, her back to the fire to preserve her night vision. In the gloom I could make out the faint glow of my mate's eyes.
"Not the Silithus calls. You dream. I hear you, you know. You talk." I stayed silent a moment so she continued. "About them. Are they visions?"
I winced as I rubbed some sand from a scrape in the stump. I'd actually been bleeding a few days now, on and off.
"You know I have no Sight. They're just dreams..." I thought a moment, ordering what my mind had been telling me the last few nights.
"It's just... It's been so long. And with the war dragging on, I can't help but wonder if any of them still live. And with the link gone..."
"You're soft, cripple. You worry too much about things outside your control." Her tone was mocking, but I sensed a hint of amusement. Azguh loved needling me with these kinds of remarks.
"Mayhaps. My point stands though, I'm completely cut off. And aye, we've talked about his before, I know I made a choice to continue my path alone, but..." I halted again, trying to make sense of what I was saying, what I had been feeling the last few days. She remained silent, letting me finish.
"But It's like these dreams are telling me something. I feel... like there is more to it. Maybe it's the isolation, but it can't be a coincidence that I dream of my pack brothers all of a sudden."
A gust of wind blew past, stirring embers from the fire and blowing up some sand. It also tossed around my braids and played through the full beard that had been growing out these past few months. I jerked up as a feeling hit me. Not a vision, but I sensed purpose in the wind.
It's been too long. You're getting restless...
Not truly words. Not like Azguh would speak, but I understood all the same. Azguh looked at me directly, pretty much ruining her nightvision anyway.
"I have no idea how those spirit things work, but could it be they're warning you in your dreams?"
"Of what? There isn't a message, I just dream of my cousin, and others. Windwatcher, Bloodpaw, Slitskin.. Sometimes Devilstep too. Not all at once, but they all have one thing in common. They're in Stonetalon. No idea why."
I looked back into the fire, lost in thought a moment.
"stonetalon huh.. Why there?"
"No idea. Maybe we should investigate. We're not exactly getting anywhere out here.." She scoffed softly.
"Not exactly close by is it?"
"If we travel more toward the civilsed world we can be there in about two weeks.." I looked up at the green and broken planet orbiting Azeroth. I could sense it pressing down on me as if the damn thing was trying to crush me. Imposible, I know.
"It could also be a way to find out more about that thing..." She followed my gaze, then looked away.
"And head back into the war? Haven't you given enough already? We keep having the same talk it seems. What next, we go to the other world and start our own private war there? Be realistic will you." She was right ofcourse. Over the course of the latest Legion incursion I'd nearly gotten us killed several times. Two orcs travelling alone, one crippled. Easy targets. And we weren't even on the front limes. No Broken Shore for us. We'd left the Broken Isles rather early on too, to tend to the spirits in other places of the world also attacked. Places that didn't 'deserve' a front line force.
"Fine, we can head to Stonetalon. We're running low on supplies anyhow, so we'll need to head back to civilisation anyway. Besides, you need to rest that leg, or you'll get infections. I've seen you limp worse and wince when we walk." She sounded exasperated, but it was an act. In her heart she felt relieved to be leaving Silithus as well as I was. Damn bugs freaked me out...

****

Days later, in Gadgetzan. We were waiting for a ship to take us back to the Barrens. From there it would be an easy travel to Stonetalon.
Azguh returned to our camp just outside the city. We'd both grown accustomed to being alone. We both prefered it. She was holding a scroll.
"Read this. Some stranger handed it to me while I was checking up on the ship."
I unfolded the scroll, reading through it.
"Well... Guess we can rule out coincidence..."

I looked out over the plains of Durotar. We were only here for a few days, afterward we would continue our journey toward Northrend. So far we'd seen all other corners of the world in my quest for the elements. We'd faced a few dae'mos on the way but usually we could slip away unnoticed. THe ones we couldn't escape from invariably died at our blades or the aid of the elements.
We were in Durotar for two reasons: Azguh needed to report in that she was extending her leave, and we both needed rest and supplies for the harshness of the north. She was now sleeping next to me, a large pack of supplies sitting near our mounts. The wait was just for an airship to arrive to bring us there.

I thought about the cryptic messages I had been following with her at my side. So far they'd led us all over, searching for sites of communal and performing rituals to appease the spirits. Things were slowly becoming clearer now, my bonds with the elements tightening and strengthening over the course of my quest.
And that was not the only bond that was tightened. A few days ago before we returned to Durotar Azguh and I finally performed the rite of mating. Spirits only know why she finally decided to accept the offer... But nothing made me happier, not even my acceptance as tribe elder.
The tribe was weighing heavy on my heart recently, not knowing how they fared.. Where any still alive? Had they fallen afoul of the Legion..? I shook my head softly. No, they would still be there. I would see them again. After my quest was completed and the elements decided I was worthy to rejoin them.

A part of me still wanted to remain away, alone with my mate in the Wilds that raised me. But my oath to the tribe was binding, and besides, unlikely as it sounds, I had friends there. Those I couldn't abandon. And perhaps, Feraleye willing, I could return to my duties as Thur'ruk.
Did I want that...? The thought came from nowhere. I thought a little harder on it. The position was ostensibly a great honor and a recognition of my ability. But it had caused me great pain as well. Was I willing to return to that, the pain, the knowledge orcs would again die in my arms as I fought to save them..?

After a while I set these thoughts aside, laying down next to Azguh.
My anchor in a cruel world. The one who now shared my life and deserved to share in that decision.
We'd talk about it later, after we returned from the frozen continent...
I closed my eyes and began trying to sleep.

[Name:]

Name: Shagula
Alias: Shags
Rank: New Blood

Age: mid twenties
Gender: female
Race: orc
Clan: Bleeding Hollow
Class: Warrior
Alignment: Neutral Good

Family: None known
Known Friends: None known
Known Enemies: None known

Appearance:
Shagula isn't pretty. The left side of her face is a scarred mess and her left ear is missing entirely.
She's very muscular and covered in battlescars, usually dressed in heavy armour.
Another defining feature is that she's about as tall as your average orc male.

She's usually actually very happy-go-lucky for such a big intimidating beast of a female though.

Personality:
She's tough as nails and very proud. She has a soft spot for cubs and pregnant females, and can be a bit of a joker or a flirt. But in a fight she'll always rush forward and protect the others.

History:
Shags was raised by a distant father who was suffering from the after-effects of drinking the blood. After she reached adulthood she was enlisted in the Horde military in which she specialised as messenger. She performs this duty to this day, though she has been known to prefer protecting other messengers or caravans.
In this capacity she was injured and maimed many times, which resulted in a scarred face and a missing ear, among other less obvious disfigurements.

After she joined the tribe she's so far been reluctant to lay down her position as messenger, causing many long absences.

Things you may know about this character:


Things you may not know about this character:
Write here

Memorable Quotes:
Jus' get behin' me already!

Other Information:
Write here

Spoiler: Gallery • show

I don't have visions.
Some shaman do, like Rhonya and I suspect Kogra. Certainly Siyah'gosh is right too often for it to be a fluke.
But I don't have visions. I just feel things.
As I entered the camp where I was raised I felt things so vividly it was almost like I was having a vision. I stopped a moment at a certain point, almost as if I saw that Blackrock orc die all over again, like I'd once told Gashuk about. I felt his life-essence fade, the acceptance of death... I blinked and moved on, limping slightly on the moist earth. I'd asked Azguh to wait outside, which she'd agreed to very quickly. She wasn't a fan of the internment camps either. I could feel her in the distance even now, a rassuring presence in this sea of misery.
I looked around, imagining things as they had been when the camp was liberated. So much decay.. The alliance had never reclaimed these grounds either, guess they wanted to distance themselves too...

I stopped just before one of the barracks, eyeing it with a sense of sadness and trepidation. The barracks I'd called home...
As I entered I was assailed by memories of my father and the years I'd spent here, seeing Rhonya for the first time, That day when we were liberated, me escaping alone, leaving her in the hands of my father...
I shook it off, entering properly and gingerly beginning to root through the detritus for what I came here for. I'd rather have it over with quickly...

As I overturned a cot I spotted a wrapped object and knew my mother had been right. As I picked it up I was overcome with a vague bloodlust. Not mine, but my mother's.
I unwrapped the package revealing her bladefist, a double bladed thing with an armoured cowl. It was a bit rusty, but nowhere near as bad as I'd thought. The cloth had been oiled. My father had brought it here, with him. Cared for it. Did he have feelings for her after all? The cloth didn't excude any emotion like that. Maybe he had taken it as a trophy...
I put the package into my bag and started making my way back. No reason for me to remain here...

I saw Azguh the moment I exited the camp. Seems she didn't want to wait it our little camp a few hundred yards away. I smiled a little sadly at her as I made my way toward her. A worried look told me how I looked, probably like I'd aged ten years. I felt sweaty and haggard at least.
Without a word we walked back to camp. I needed a rest badly... And something to eat and a bath. Water always made it easier to wash away the emotions, and that was a definite need right now..

[Bones for the Bone god!]

Bones for the Bone god!

Objective:
GRimtide is working on a project and requires a large thigh bone, preferably Shoveltusk.

Rewards:
1 Fang per orc.

Additional notes:
Go at it, get me a bone! Shoveltusks are vicious, bring 2-3 orcs.

(OoC: Shoveltusks are vicious, bring 2-3 orcs, DM it yourself.)



Status:
Incomplete

[Earth shatters!]

Earth shatters!

Objective:
The orcs of Garadar report a rogue earth elemental has been causing havoc in the hills north of Garadar. This must be handled swiftly, before Kosh'harg is threatened.

Rewards:
2 Fangs per orc.

Additional notes:
[IC] Don't try this with just a few orcs, take at least five. Needs to be done before or during the Kosh'harg week.
[OoC] Make it a nicely DMed event guys.




Status:
Failed.

[Boaring...]

Boaring...

Objective:
Despite the efforts of a few, the Quilboar are still raiding our towns and settlements in the Barrens. Thur'ruk Grimtide is getting sick of it, and wants e few orcs to go cull them.

Rewards:
1 Fang per orc.

Additional notes:
[ooc] Take a few orcs, go kill things. Feel free to GM some encounters yourself




Status:
completed

[Herbal Experiences]

Herbal Experiences

Objective:
Thur'ruk Grimtide wishes the orcs of the tribe to go out and gather herbs to expand our stores. Any herb will do.

Rewards:
1 Fang per orc.

Additional notes:
Herbalism isn't actually required, it's mostly about the RP.




Status:
Complete

I glared out over the water from the top of the guard tower. There was a veil of negativity here, But low-key enough that I could easily tune it out. The wind whispered around me, playing with my braids.
Let it all go.. You need not walk around with this pain all by yourself.. It's not like I actually heard the words, but the effect was the same. The spirit of wind was whispering to me. I drew a blanket around me, wincing as I again felt the bruised rib protest. Bloodpaw had done a number on me, even though I'd somehow won the fight.

I looked down at the water. The spirit of life, of purity, of renewal. It could not help me through this conflict. What I'd almost done was just wrong. I could never betray my brother in such a way, but neither could I abandon Vanara. She needed a friend now more then ever... The decision I'd made in the end felt like a mistake too.

And then there was Sinami. How could I handle that situation, is it had been dragging on seemingly since we'd met... And the way it was going things might actually escalate. Way to go, Srelok. That's two females belonging to other males. One's my blood brother, the other my chieftain.. I found myself wishing for easier times. Like before I joined the tribe and was only responsible for myself.
You don't have to be alone in carrying the burdens, shaman. The winds softly whispered these feelings into my ear, reminding me of Sadok and Rhonya. My mentors, for now. If all went well, at least my cousin would be my equal. Even more responsibilities... At any other day I'd relish them. Tonight, alone in the dark in what Rhonya had jokingly called the Grimtower (really? I'd have expected a lame pun like that from Sadok) the doubts kept on nagging at my mind.

Slowly, I became aware of another presence around me, one I'd felt before but never really connected to. Only Devilstep's prayer beads enabled me to truly communicate with it. Everything around me heated up at its attention, a towering rage unlike anything I'd ever experienced.
Pathetic little shaman. Where's your passion, where is your fire? I know it's in you, it enabled you to take on that warrior bare-handed. That was truly a moment I was proud of you! A rumbling laugh sounded in my mind. And now it's gone again. How will you perform your task now? How are you going to fight the broken trying to destroy this realm when you're so conflicted and extuinguished? the air heated up even more, sensing like I was being burned alive.
I will help you, that's how. I'll give you the backbone you need, but don't truly deserve... And with that, the spirit left me alone, shivering in the dark..

[Caged]

Caged

I woke with a start. My broken wrist and twisted ankle hadn't been treated, And throbbed dully. What bothered me more was the silence. I could no longer hear the elements, nor sense emotions. Everything had been stripped from me, and I was dressed only in torn shorts. Even the prayer beads Devilstep had given me, and the dagger that was a gift from Bloodpaw. I felt a collar atached to my neck, and remembered it being forced onto me. After that, only silence.
And I was in a cage. A tiny one. If I could stand, I wouldn't be able to.

"awake, eh? Good, then we can begin." My eyes focussed on the figure in front of the cage, a Bleeding Hollow orc in a kilt, bone piercings and skullpaint resplendent on his broad figure.
"You will tell me about your war party. And then you will fuel our magics." I was still too battered and groggy from my fall and capture to really respond.
"Think you won't? Oh trust me, we have our ways..." The orc grinned nastily, then threw open the cage and dragged me out toward a hut.

When I woke again I was back in the hut. Many fresh wounds were left untreated but I distinctly remembered not given them anything, even in my groggy and unbalanced state. They knew their craft, most wounds were made to hurt, but weren't life-threatening. I muttered a prayer to the spirits to heal me, but to no avail. They were being completely blocked out...
I looked out of the cage, but could only see endless jungles and the spiny architecture of Zeth'gol. Not encouraging if I were to get out. I inspected a broken finger, courtesy of my host. If they were going to keep this up until they broke me mentally I'd be here a long time... They should be able to tell from the many scars I already bore that I was stronger-willed then that..

No orc came to fetch me that night. No idea how long I'd been here by now. I stared at the stars, seeing the green flashes to the east. Something was going on there... I decided I may as well gather what intelligence I could while I was there... Starting with the number of orcs and their activities in Zeth'gol.

I awoke again, this time tied to a slab of stone, no memory of how I got there. Several orcs were gathered around me, many armed and looking ready to strike me down. Was I such a threat to them..? I looked one in the eye. He looked hungry.
Hungry for glory. Hungry for bragging rights, to be able to say he killed me. It was all just another hunt to them...

Once more, I awoke in the cage. My memory seemed disjointed and fractional, as if they'd done something with it..
"Are you going to talk yet? You can't hold out much longer.."
I looked at the female sitting next to the cage. She seemed concerned, but without my gift it was hard to tell...
"They'll stop going easy on you soon, you should just tell them what they want to know, save yourself." When I didn't answer, she continued.
"Are they really worth your life..? Why won't you just talk?"
"I won't tell you anything. I have no reason. Just kill me already." At that her face hardened.
"Fine, have yourself chopped up. Your blood will tell us everything we wish to know." With that, she left me alone again.

Days passed. Nobody came, only to feed me and give me water. No orc said anything. Guess this was the next phase. The silent treatment.

Home. A simple word, but with such meaning. I watched the sun rise over Durotar, home of my people. But it left me wondering. Was this my home too? Or that of Korgara, who was born in Nagrand? I looked at the bundle of furs still sleeping soundly beside me.

I heard a soft moan a little deeper in the outcrop, where Sinami was still sleeping a few metres away. I looked at her too, briefly. asleep, she looked almost at peace. A lovely looking female, actually, though I let go of that thought quickly and looked back to the slowly awakening world. I didn't need the distraction. My mind wandered enough as it was..

Images once again flickered through my mind, of Devilstep. Old, reliable rockface Devilstep. Dying in my arms, nothing I could do. I tried pushing that thought aside as well. I thumbed the prayer beads wrapped around my left wrist. Again, I wondered at the sentence in Devilstep's will giving them to me. "To Srelok Grimtide I gift my prayer beads. May they guide and aid you with the spirits, and shield you from the worst of them...." I heard myself whispering the memorised words, and looked behiond me at Sinami again, hoping she wouldn't wake up. She needed her rest. I grabbed my staff and pushed myself to my feet, walking away from the camp a little stiffly. My body was still not as strong as it had been, and I was beginning to worry I might never recover fully.

I looked into the distance at the lands before me. Was this really my home? It didn't feel like it, but six words floated into my mind. "Home is where the heart is.." An ancient saying, but I believed it to be right. Which meant the tribe, in my mind. All of them where my family now. All of them worthy of my respect and all the help I might be able to give them. Which brought me back to another worry. Why had I applied for an Elder position again..? The power, the prestige..? No. I wanted to aid the tribe as best as I could and if I could advise the chieftain through this trying time I felt this the best use of my abilities and knowledge. Ofcourse, the chieftain would have to listen to me first, not just walk away in discomfort every time I came near...
I should tell him of my new level of control. Steelheart would want to know too. The night Devilstep fell, I'd finally learnt control. I wasn't sure how, but I could switch my 'gift' on and off at will now. I looked at my wrist again, to the prayer beads.
"Was that what you meant, Devilstep? Is this your gift to me?"
I liked to think it was. Perhaps the old blademaster really had the best at heart for me...

I returned a little while later, finding Sinami gone. I wondered at that, but decided not to think anything of it. I was just thankful she'd let me stay there last night. For the next night I'd find a secluded spot for myself. No need to make the tribe wonder what was going on between us, because there was nothing. I thought...

[Name:]

Name: Srelok Grimtide
Alias: Martyr-wolf
Rank: True blood Gosh'kar

Age: 39
Gender: male
Race: orc
Clan: Warsong (father, mother was recently discovered to be Shattered Hand)
Class: Shaman
Alignment: Lawful Neutral

Family: Azguh (mate, deceased), Rhonya Steelheart, Vraxxar Wildmark (bloodbrother), Kargnar Bloodpaw (bloodbrother, Deceased), Threkna Slitskin (bloodsister, MIA)
Known Friends: Kogra Windwatcher, Sinami Swifthowl, Nosh'marak Ironclaw, Eliff Watersong, Magrahra Emberheart
Known Enemies: None, really

Appearance:
Srelok Grimtide has the look of a veteran, and walks with a stiff limp in his left leg.

His skin is covered in thin straight scarifications. His eyes seem haunted by something. On his belt are many pouches and a ritual knife.
Around his neck hangs a necklace made from shark's teeth, a set of prayer beads and a purple raw crystal hanging on a leather string.

When smiling, someone might see a resemblance to Rhonya Steelheart, if one were to look.
His left arm shows an array of stitched up scars where he was mauled by a shark, and three steel spikes are embedded in his left bicep.

If seen without shoes it's revealed that his left foot is missing, his leg amputated about halfway down from his knee, the limb replaced by a wooden prosthetic adorned with druidic runes.

Personality:
He's honest to a fault, fiercely loyal to his friends. He can appear distant because of his empathic abilities (which he sees as a curse).  May be cold to those he doesn't know. Has low self esteem due to childhood traumas. He can be described as of above average intelligence, but he can be cynical at times.

History:
Born 39 years ago Srelok was raised by only his father until he was 8 years old and left the care of said father, Skar'lok Bloodaxe, who was trying to raise him in the ways of the Legion, being a devoted follower and Shadow Council flunky himself. Srelok never wanted this and even tried to escape the internment camp no matter the consequences. He had to abandon his infant cousin, a little girl that had just been orphaned even though it broke his heart. He was born an empath, which only ever complicated things.
Eventually he managed to get away from his father and lived hidden for a while until he managed his escape though that was more luck then anything. He lived in the wilds until word reached him of the liberation of the orcs by Thrall. He joined the nascent new Horde on their journey to Kalimdor. There, he heard the call of the elements. It took him a while but he managed to find a teacher to show him his path, the path of the mender. The spirits he allied with on Azeroth demanded a payment of blood, hence his heavy scarrifications.
When he was about 25 he returned to Orgrimmar. He never participated in the war against the Lich King, which was by then raging, but he chose to lend aid when the Cataclysm struck. This aid was in the form of healing the injured and caring for the sick and dying.
He watched in growing resentment as Garrosh perverted the noble goals of the Horde, and when people started disappearing he decided to leave the city and find a way to fight against the Warchief.
This is how he joined the tribe. It took a long time of fence-sitting and his occasional disappearances before he found acceptance within the tribe though, only truly becoming part of it after Thur'ruk Sharptongue was assaulted by his bloodbrother and needed surgery to recontruct his teeth.
Like this he slowly became part of the tribe, saving the lives of any orc he could. He still took leaves of absence since his headaches kept plagueing him though, but still he's slowly climbed up on the ladder of the tribe to the position of Alpha Gosh'kar, then Thur'ruk.
During a ritual to purge a tribe member of fel-taint, his body was ravaged by ritual backwash, weakening him physically and turning his hair snowwhite. Ever since, he's slowly been recovering.
Recently he's been more reclusive then usual, plagued by nightmares of Krogon Devilstep's death and other traumatising experiences during his stay on Draenor. His physical recovery is going well, but his mind will need work.

After ascending to the rank of Thur'ruk he's been hard at work building up physical strength and combat knowledge, the better to aid his tribe when needed. He still has a strong affinity with water and air, and is quick to jump to the aid of others with healing poultices and potions, though he seems more focussed on harnessing the elements in weaponised form.
Recently, during a ritual to cleanse Makaroth of fel-corruption, the fel reacted violently, ending in a crushed foot, requiring his left foot to be amputated.
A few months after becoming Thur'ruk he resigned again, the spirits called on him to walk a different path in the wake of the Legion invasion.

During the absence
After resigning as thur'ruk Srelok took his mate Azguh with him on a travel across the globe, fighting the Legion where they could on behalf of the spirits. Srelok himself acts as a champion of the elements in this regard, Azguh as his protector.
Even after 8 months they still haven't produced an heir, a fact which is beginning to trouble him.
His elemental bond has strengthened considerably though.
Maybe, after the better part of a year in the wild he's ready to become 'civilised' again...

After the reform to Clan
Since the Tribe returned to be a Clan, Srelok has kept his distance. He's close at all times, watching those he calls friends from a distance. But he has no real interest in being a real part of things again. Especially not politically.

When the sword fell
After Sargeras attacked the world Srelok ended up in a coma for weeks after a heart attack. For a while it looked like he wouldn't recover but eventually he woke. He's been wearing an amulet that blocks his empathy as well as the spirits. He's now just a powerless orc but at least he lives, if on the edge of Clan life.

The new war
Now the war has begun again, Srelok seems to have come out of hiding. He no longer uses the amulet and his abilities seem to have changed...
More to come...

Things you may know about this character:
-Has an intense hatred to demons and those who consort with them.
-Feels responsible for the tribe as a whole.
-Is emotionally troubled. This has left deep psychological scars.

Things you may not know about this character:
-Has migraines a lot because he tries to block out other peoples' feelings.
-Is afraid of spiders.
-Is incapable of reproducing.

Memorable Quotes:
None really, he's an orc of few words.

Other Information:

I sat in my hammock, staring ahead. The weave Azguh made lay beside me. The residual emotion clinging to it an interesting diversion to the pain in my body. The cane Ritina got for me lay on my lap, another reminder of my frailty. My hand was shaking, a sign of my fatigue, and my joints were aching. All in all a shitty state for my body to be in, and I knew exactly why that was so. Not that it did any good.
The frustrations were already building, and I'd decided a while ago to remove myself from company. So now I sat here, trying to remain as alone as I could. Not an easy task with all those damn Laughing Skull staring at me wherever I  went, snickering behind my back.

It would have been easy to blame Kogra. Too easy, therefore unfair as well.
I looked at the axe That was placed next to the hammock. I felt somehow naked without it, even if it only ever brings me pain..
I stood up leaning on the cane, and stepped out toward the beach. Better to distance myself. I had to ignore several whispers and snickers as Laughing Skull saw me limp outside. One of them, a ringleader named Skinwringer, stepped in front of me and looked at me. I could hear the grin in his voice.
"Going out again, whitey? Maybe you should stay inside, be less of an emberassment for your tribe of greenies."
"Yes, very cute Skinwringer. Now get out of my way." Some of the others started snickering again. He bore down on me, malice in his voice as he answered.
"Or what, you'll make me, cripple? You should stay out of view, or just die. Not like you'll live long anyway."
I stood my ground, but wasn't sure how to deal with this situation. I narrowed my eyes and felt around for the presence of the spirits. Air was ofcourse all around us, but I'd rather not antagonise them. They were my problem and I didn't want to involve the tribe.
"Just let me pass, Skinwringer. no need for this."
Right then, I heard a noise behind, a clearing of a throat.
"Brave of you boys, picking on an injured non-combatant."
I risked a glance behind, looking straight into a pair of oddly glowing blue eyes.
I breathed a sigh of relief as I realised Azguh came to my aid.
"And who might you be, glowy-eyes?"
Azguh folded her arms in front of her chest, one eyebrow going up as she seemed to be seizing the group of laughing skulls up. "Why would you care? Doesn't change what you're doing."
I held up a hand, telling her to back off. Skinwringer pushed past me to face the female, staring her down.
"Fitting, one freak coming to the aid of another freak. And what are you gonna do about it, eh?"
Azguh didn't move much as the male approached, just looking straight at him with those weird eyes. "What am I going to do? It's more the question what you're going to do. Thought your kind valued strength. Not very strong ganging up on one weakened orc."
The Laughing Skull seemed to grow a little taller, like he was looming even hiher, but the three others seemed to be hesitating. I just looked at them, ignoring Skinwringer.
"She's right, you know. It's a little sad what you're doing."
Skinwringer was still looming over Azguh, apperently seriously pissed off at her now.
Azguh simply kept looking up at him, appearing rather calm. "Staring is rude as well, you know."
As I stared at the three flunkies they seemed to decide it wasn't worth it and walked off. Funny how they abandonned skinwringer. I turned around, basically surrounding Skinwringer.
"So, how does that feel? Two on one."
Skinwringer looked behind him, realised he was alone, and with a growl stalked off, leaving me face to face with the Halfbreed.
"Thank you for the help.."She merely shrugged a little, her face a mask of nearly no emotion. "You're welcome. Just be careful around them, might not be the last time they'll try something like that."
"I know. And next time I might not have a brave female to protect me."
Stupid. To make it worse, I grinned sheepishly.
"Not much brave about it. I was simply passing by." Her shoulder moved into a casual shrug, her face not even changing expression.
"If you say so. I was headed to the beach, get some fresh air. You're welcome to join me.."
"I was actually going to try and hunt down some food, was getting rather hungry." Azguh flashed a small smile. I returned it, then nodded a simple farewell. I watched her go before limping down to the beach by myself. I needed a rest after all that excitement...

As I sat down on the beach I thought back to the encounter. Was it just a coincidence that she was there..?
Probably was. Stupid to read too much into it, she was never going to be interested in me..

As I sat by the calming waters of the pool, I let my mind wander back to the visions I'd seen earlier in the day.  I was still trying to make sense of it. I was put to sleep by a herbal nix and placed inside a disturbing echo of Frostfire...

Dark and desolate, with no sign of life whatsoever, its inhospitable wastes seemed to go on forever, instilling me with a distressing feeling of insignificance and loneliness.
"Hello..?"
words echoed around me, repeating back and forth: "Hello..? Hello..? Hello..? Hello..?
Letting out a low snort that reverberated around the wastes, causing the edges of reality to ripple, an ethereal frostboar trotted towards me â€" its ancient wrinkled face weathered but proud, its skin scarred and flayed in places. It had clearly seen better days.. Its weary, beady eyes regarded me curiously for a moment, then it motioned its head sidewise, as if to indicate I should follow. It trotted along at a slow but steady pace, looking from side to side almost cautiously.
The boar let out a low but loud squeal â€" the guttural outcry echoed throughout the desolate plains, causing them to seemingly rise and fall like an earthquake was happening. This was basically normal, considering I was locked in a dream-vision..
The boar stopped by a rocky-outcropping in the middle of nowhere. Suddenly, a female came into view... One I knew very well, though she seemed different then last I laid eyes on her. Different armour, for one.
"Srelok... Mok'ra."
"Mok'ra, wildeye.."
her smile widened at my words, as if my voice alone was making her happy already. She leaned in, taking my hands. The wastes around us seemed to close in, until my sense of insignificance was finally replaced by a warm intimacy, as if we were the only two around.
"I've..been thinking."
"Oh? " Dumbest comeback ever, but it was well known by now my eloquence with females was about equal to a half-rotten turnip...
"I don't want Trakmar. It's clear he doesn't like me. I want ye. And ye alone." My heart fluttered at this. But I couldn't help myself but make a stab at her over a conversation I'd had earlier with Throatrender.
"Not Sharptongue, then?" If she understood, she gave no sign.
"He's far too weak for me. What I told him was a test, to see if he was truly wishing to stick with his mate. I want ye." And then, she was kissing me. I reacted in the only way I know. Freezing. Hoping the emotions assailing me go away. Bring down the walls protecting me. She pulled back slightly, and she still held my hands. I was trapped...
"Ye don't want me?"
"I... I'm not comfortable having people touch me, I told you. This might take some getting used to."
She smirked at that, starting to undress while speaking in a low, seductive tone.
"I can help ye get used to it fast enough..." I had to remind myself this was just a vision. Not true. None of it. I told her I wouldn't, angering her. She was like nothingI'd ever seen of the real Wildeye. trying to manipulate me, trying to tear off my clothes.
"Everyone is a toy! Ye just don't know it yet. Hearts are sooo easily corrupted. So easily -used-. Ye will see... Oh, ye will see, my love!" After those words, she disappeared, leaving me alone with the boar. It stalked off through the disturbing emotional mindscape I was apperently stuck in..
Eventually my silent guide and I came to a campfire. A puddle of water trickled around it. Sat beside it, an enormous, crumbling limestone statue of Sharptongue. It was wailing and crying about Throatrender's death. I tried consoling it, but nothing worked.The wailing and crying increased in loudness until it was almost deafening. The statue was crying endlessly, its head in its hands. The saline tears that flowed from its eyes continually eroded it away â€" its lap half-dissolved, its legs eaten through as the tears started to pool on the ground. Eventually the statue just broke up, leaving behind it only misery and despair. Even that faded though.
The boar eyed me carefully, then moved on, breaking into a run. The world around me was silent, but unseen winds started to nip and pull on me. Distant yelling was heard about the wastes, anguished and disturbed, countless voices talking over one another in a great jumble of meaninglessness. I was nearly overwhelmed by the emotionscape I was trapped in. The wind continued to pick up in severity, until the boar came to rest by some lava-fissures… and a solitary she-orc appeared.
Throatrender's form was bruised, battered...And her neck was actually ripped open, blood streaming from the severed skin, her head nearly wobbling on her neck. She was carrying two wrapped up bundles in her arms, as I recalled.

I blinked angrily as the memories came. I never wanted any of this branded into my soul..
I forced myself to remember. Make sense of it.

Throatrender snarled angrily, narrowing her eyes. Her eyes looked dead, white and milky, but she was staring straight at me. Straight through me even...
"Ya were too late...! YA WERE TOO LATE!" Guilt ripped through me, even though I knew this was only in my mind. We -had- saved her after all.
"We weren't.. We saved you!"
"Too late... Dem killed me... Dem raped me, dem tortured me, dem killed me, made inta dis... Dem took EVERYTHING!"

She threw the two bundles she was carrying on the ground, right in front of my feet. Rolling from the cloth were the two babies....cold, blue and dead, their eyes opened and staring into nothing. I collapsed then and there, truly overwhelmed, most of the rest of this vision turning blurry as my mind reeled.
Even now, in this calm and serene place, I couldn't for the life of me recall what else happened. Then, the Boar moved off again, into a thick fog. When it finaly stopped, I looked around. This was a horror story... the ground smote with fel-energies, a village struck down in ruins… daemon and cultists wandering around, performing dark rituals. I walked to a large ruined hut, topsy-turvy as it stuck out of the ground. It bore the symbol of the Red Blade tribe on a banner. As I approached, the symbol before his eyes changes to that of… the Blightskull Clan. And a dark but familiar voice filled my mind, telling me to come in.
The Spirit Boar looked up at me thoughtfully... then disappeared slowly. I knew then I was in trouble. Both Sharptongue and Steelheart had warned me not to lose my  guide! I squared my shoulders, resigned I was lost in the vision now anyway, and stepped in to hear the voice that had haunted my dreams so often in the last twenty years...
"...Mok'ra... Son." There was only one response I could give the orc that stepped out of the shadows.
"I'm not your son."
Skar'lok Bloodaxe grinned malevolently, His face familiar even though he looked different. Gone where the armour and the axe that even now was spitting vile emotions into my brain. He wore robes and a staff that stank of shadow magic.
"Deny it all you wish... just as you deny the -true power- of the Legion. Yet you have come to me, at the end of the world... what do you want?"
That stare pierced my head, straight through the soul as it had when I was but a child hiding from him.
"What power? All there is, all there will -ever- be, is slavery."
"Slavery? You would be no slave, just as she is no slave."
He grinned evilly, and before I looked behind me I knew what I'd find.
"No... no! You will not have her!
Steelheart slowly entered the hut. Fel energies swirled around her, and she was covered in green runes and tattoos, glowing ominously. Horns protruded from her skull and there was a wicked grin on her face, bright red eyes looking at Skar'lok.
"Will I not? She was always mine. -Always-, from the moment I began to raise her. You were too late."
I remebered balling my fists, calling the sirits to aid me in wiping this stain from exiistence. nothing answered. The spirits had forsaken me.. He seemed to feel it, grinning wider.
"Come here, child."
"Yes...master?"
I could only look on in horror as Skar'lok smiled warmly at Rhonya, then reached out a hand to stroke her cheek, like a pet.
"Tell him you are not a slave."
"This isn't true..." I remembered muttering.
Steelheart leaned into the stroke willingly, shuddering a little in delight at the touch, before she turned her head slowly at Srelok, a near innocent look on her face as her eyes widened a little.
"A slave...? Ofcourse not..."
Skar'lok took that opportunity to gloat, as he would in real life, though I'd by now forgotten this was only a vision. I felt the rage in the back of my head awaken.
"She came willingly. And she learnt willingly. And now look at her... all grown up... I am so, so proud."
He patted her head like some perverted vision of a house pet.
"Good girl." Something in my mind clicked back in place. Hearing a tale of a dreadlord..
"Didn't anyone tell you? You're a dead orc." He seemed to enjoy that, grinning even wider.
"Dead? I am alive. I am -forever-, son. You will -never- be without me. In your mind and in your heart... for I am part of you." That was the straw for me, and I think I may have snapped there.
"Fine... Then I'll end you myself. Right here, right now." My axe was in my hands before I noticed what was happening. The coward stepped behind his niece, shielding himself with her..
"Surely you would not go through -her- to end me?" Knowing how Steelheart would feel if she was put back in that position, my mind was made up.
"If I have to. It would be a mercy."
She tilted her head to one side again, giving me that same, innocent look, blinking a bit. Infuriating. Trying to stop me like that...
"But I'm happy... Can't you see, cousin..?"
"I'm sorry cousin... I failed you."
"You leaving me with my uncle was the best thing you ever did..." That did it, and filled with rage and grief I struck at both. Skar'lok jumped back, pushing Steelheart at me, causing me to kill my own cousin.

I opened my eyes again. The pain, though imagined was still fresh around that mental wound. Again, I forced my eyes closed. I must remember everything...


"Look what you did!"
Rhonya looked up at me, her lifeblood slowly flowing out. I couldn't help but notice it was green.
"W-why... cousin... I-I..loved you.."
"Poor, sweet Rhonya.But she was always expendable." He cackled at me, like the true maniac I knew him to be.
"You're next, -father-." Patricide, in the tribe, would see me exiled. But the tribe was no more. THe elements had forsaken me, and it was just me and my father now... Who turned his back to me.
"Strike me down, and I will become more powerful than you can possibly imagine."
He stepped forward towards me, defenseless.
"Give in to your hate." And by the spirits, I wanted to!
"You deserve it."
"And what do -you- deserve, foul son?"
"But I won't strike you dowm. Fight me!" Would he be brave enough to, I wondered.? He snorted.
"I will not look upon a -kinslayer-, much less fight him."
"Are you that cowardly, then? You forced this upon us. Face the consequences of your actions, Warsong." He looked back at me when I said that.
"Coward? Is that what you would name me? You were always so proud, so uptight. You do not deserve the weapon you wield." I looked down at my hands, the big axe still clutched in my bloodied fists.
"Neither do you. You are no orc." He turned fully and roared. In a flash, I noticed his nails elongating to actual talons.
"I am no orc?! YOU ARE NOTHING, SRELOK! NOTHING!"
"Then end this, and be done with it. Be a kinslayer."
I dropped the axe, the blade biting into the floor. He attacked me. So fast, I never even saw him coming. Despite everything, he was till a warrior of the Warsong. His claws raked through my skin, biting deep, nearly severing muscles.
"Gladly! You were always a mistake, always a regret! I am disappointed, son!" He kept slicing into me, But at least now he was close. And I was still my father's son.
I grabbed his throat and started squeezing. To escape, he stabbed his talons into my arm and my side. But even as I felt myself bleeding out, I kept my grip.
"You may kill me, but you'll never live to celebrate this minor victory... father."
As I felt him fading under my hand, my vision blacked out. When it returned... My hand was around Steelheart's throat. Skarlok was nowhere to be seen.
Steelheart gasped and her eyes were wide in fear, she looked pleadingly, trying to make me let go by clawing at my hands, crying.
"P-please.." It was all I could do to let go, disgust welling up within me. I'd already forgotten I killed her a while ago. She backed away, crawling, rubbing her throat, looking extremely fragile and incredibly afraid. She hid her face in her hands, her whole body shaking. I was just confused..
"Where did he go..?" Suspectng a trap, I retrieved my axe. Rhonya looked up, her eyes a blazing red, tensing her claws a bit. A voice echoed out from within my ribcage.
"In your mind and in your heart... for I am part of you." I recognised the voice.
"You are no part of me..." Stelheart sat up now, looking at me pleadingly.
"Why don't you embrace it...Cousin.. I did.. It's our destiny... Our purpose... I love you.."
She held out her arms to me, her eyes big and pleading.
"I love you too, but this is wrong. Come back with me..."
"I can't turn back.. There was never any way to turn back.. This is me. This is what I am -supposed- to be... And you as well. Give in..." I shook my head sadly. That it had come to this...
"No. I will not."
Steelheart started to crawl towards me slowly, her arms still extended. I backed away, the pain in my cheast increasing, radiating out of the cuts and wounds my father had dealt me.
"I will not give up!" I hesitated, holding out a hand toward her. A final plea.
"Come with me, back to the tribe..."
"There is no tribe... There is no family... Just us.. Bloodbound. This is my place...and yours too.."
As her voice faded and the world around me blackened to the tune of my father's mad cackling, I heard her one last time.
"You can never leave it behind..."

I opened my eyes, Looking into the Pool of Visions. I still couldn't make sense of it. But I knew I'd just faced my greatest fears.

And prevailed.

My axe feels heavy on my back as I sit here, looking out over the red plains. terror seizes my throat and my palms sweat. I try not to let the others show I'm terrified of the prospect of this battle. I'm not built for war... I'm already pretty certain I will not be one of those who'll make it through the portal at all. Something tells me I'll die early on in the battle..

All around me the lands seeks to distract me from getting rest. So much pain and sorrow still clings to this place. It's not only the site of several battles, it's a wound in the world. My head aches as I think of it.
Why now? Why are we the ones ideally situated to attempt this madness? Why don't the others realise were about to die in unnumerable horrendous wa-
No. We shall not falter, even if some might die. We have the might of the Horde at our side. And if I am to die in this assault, I will die with my honour intact and facing the enemy. I just need to speak to my cousin before we set out. Rhonya will know what to say and do. She'll help me regain my courage..

I find myself wondering about my father. Did Skar'lok ever feel this afraid before a battle? What would he say about his weakwilled little brat going into a suicidal fight? I bite my lip, gazing out over the plains as these thoughts smash into me. I shake my head violently to not have to think about him. Unfortunately he seems to have wormed his way into my subconscious.
I can almost hear him gloat about my ineptitude, my frailty, my fear...

I sit here on a ledge, paralysed by fear on what might be my final night. And I wonder how I'm ever going to face the tribe...

My hand was itching. I'd had to cut the palm as I worked on Sadok's face, and now the bandage was chafing at the skin. Well, at least it made me feel something that was me.

Ever since I was a young boy I'd been able to feel things. When I began the path of shamanism this became stronger. When I enter a room where bloodshed has occured or someone has been intensely happy, I know it. When I touch an object with strong emotional attachments, I feel it.

I sat there watching over the thur'ruk and trying not to feel the history of the hall of the brave. His mate, Kyrazha, had left to be alone a while before, almost demanding I watch over Sadok. Not that I would wander off anyway.. This reminded me that barely anyone knew me here though. I was an unknown, like I always wanted to be. The familial connection to Steelheart wasn'tgoing to help though, that's why I always disappeared. Why I always wore a wolfmask. I didn't want them to see me for who I was. The son of her uncle. I wished to be treated as the person I was, not who people thought me to be.

Sadok was still sleeping soundly. The sleeping potion Kyrazha had given him seemed to work pretty well. I looked him over for a moment. He was no fighter, just like me, but he looked positively frail right now. The bruises were not something I'd waste my blood on, but the breaks had been healed. The next day  would be the biggest job, fixing his teeth. Replacing an entire jaw worth of teeth was a long and painful job, and Sharptongue had already suffered so much... The other side of my ability: empathy that stretched to people's pasts. Sadok was a guarded soul, but the pain of his life was etched on him nevertheless. He was lucky to have found Kyrazha, in my opinion. I'd felt the feelings they shared through her. They were bonded strongly already.

I sat back down to wait for Kyrazha's return, grabbing the axe that had been my father's. Skar'lok, a shadow council enforcer who'd tried to raise me to dark shamanism. When that failed, he'd turned to Rhonya. Eventually he met his fate while trying to deal with a dreadlord, I'd been told. Idiot. The axe in my hands, far too heavy for me to wield effectively, was dripping with pain and sorrow. Not just the victims' but my father's as well. All the stupid mistakes he'd made, all the regets, every last bit of suffering as he'd slowly died, blinded and half flayed..
I carried the axe with me as a reminder where I'd come from, and to warn me against screwing up.

I set the heavy weapon aside again, settling in for the rest of the long watch of the night.