Ghost of honour

[Grekthar]

A dark robed figure leaned against the wall of the blacksmith in Orgrimmar as he waited for the ores to smelt into their usable liquid state, his eyes closed as he let his rotting ears listen to the clanging and hum of hammers and bellows. The city was full of life, and yet also full of death. Everywhere anyone could look you could see the orcs all at work crafting weapons, working the smiths, fashioning armour, siege engines, training their warriors... Although some the dead elf doubted had even seen their sixteenth winter let alone battle.

"Ya 'ear? That ol' big orc Feralwhatsisface 'as gotten 'imself all locked up." a reedy goblin voice chimed in, just over the sound of the hammers and anvils. The elf opened his left eye a fraction at this as the gossip continued into descriptions over what they thought the orc had done to deserve such a fate, noticeably hushing though the moment one of the Kor'kron drew near to inspect their work. The armoured orc took a look at the robed figure before sneering. "Get back to work corpse." snarled the Kor'kron as he looked at the dead elf. With what could be called a snort of amusement the elf opened both his eyes to reveal the ethereal cold blue glow within them. The very air seemed to become that much colder as he regarded the Kor'kron. "Ores need time to smelt foolish orc... or perhaps you believe you can control time and make things go faster?" the Death Knight asked with a slightly sarcastic tone to his voice, the robe slowly removing itself to reveal the Runeblade strapped to his back. The orc took an involuntary step back at the sight of the former Scourge warrior before going on their way.

With an amused sounding escape of air from his nose the elf concealed the weapon once more before looking at the gossips. "Now then... what's this about an Orc by the name of Feral being hauled to the dungeons?" the dead Sin'dorei asked, his cold eyes seeming to gaze into the hapless goblins soul. "Somethin' about Red Blades, those Furbolg ting's, and not firin'. I swear tat's all I know!" the goblin said fearing punishment for not having more information. The Death Knight tilts his head as he looks in the direction of the Valley of Strength. "So... that's the game is it?" he said with a distant tone, one that seemed to be as if he was just talking to himself. He looked inside the Forge for a moment. "Hmm... that ore will take another day or so... this Pandaran iron is a lot tougher to crack than most... I wonder how the Warchief views visitors to the dungeons?" the dead elf mused before he began to make his way for the dungeons, albeit through an indirect route.

No sense in riling the Kor'kron... Least not yet.

Perhaps its time that these pups were shown what honour means once more... Angealion thought to himself, the Runeblade on his back readying itself for the feast that would soon come to it... Should the Kor'kron resist...

[Kozgugore]

(( I hope not everyone's characters is going to end up either in jail or dead in trying to break my silly Feralwhatshisface out of prison now. Nice to read about other characters as well, and well done! ))