Orcs of the Red Blade

I guess this topic will serve as an anthology of stories about Tagrok - should there be more. Without further ado, here it goes.



Rain - Not just now, the whole day. It kept raining ever since he arrived in this swamp, tracking the Red Blade all the way to the distant outpost of Zabra'jin in the Zangarmarsh. The tribe had moved ahead a few days ago, leaving him in Garadar to sort himself out. As he moved towards the gates of the outpost he remembered the days he spent seperated from them.

Even though he had never stepped into Nagrand before the orcs there were very forthcoming - as long as he pulled his own weight. He went on several hunts, restocking the food supplies with the other hunters and helping with menial tasks around the village. Some of the nights were spent in the watch towers, his eyes scanning the horizon for threats. The orc snorted as he recalled the day after their arrival, being chewed out by Beastbane for sleeping in one of the towers.

Everything went rather smoothly until two nights ago. The moon had already risen far overhead and he was sitting at the central bonfire, watching the mag'har orcs and occassionally conversing with them. Most of the time however, was spent staring into the fire and thinking back over the choices he had made the past weeks.

He had followed the Red Blade on nothing but a whim. Petty dreams about living in a tribe, of being connected to something else but life on the frontlines. Not that he escaped battles for long as he stuck with them - But he got a taste of kinship, even though he still barely understood any of them. And those he did start to understand were struggling with their own problems, keeping to themselves and seldom appearing at the bonfire as they did on most days.

A rasping voice interrupted his reverie: "Tagrok the archer, I presume?"

The orc turned his head to look over his shoulder, frowning as he spotted the owner of the voice. There, outside of the circle of orcs, stood a member of the Forsaken. Most of his face below the nose was covered in a black bandana, the necromantic glow in his eyes flickering from time to time. The undead was clad in nondescript leather armour, which failed to cover the jutting out bones and receeding flesh. The only other discernible item on his person was a messenger's bag, slung over his right shoulder, strap crossing his gaunt chest.

With a snort the orc answered: "That would be me. Who's asking?"

Inclining his head ever so slightly, the Forsken kept his eyes on the orc as he spoke again: "Corbinian Valford, Attaché to the Deathstalkers stationed on the Broken Isles." After he finished Valford pulled a scroll from his bag - A purple wax seal covered the parchment.

Tagrok's eyes widened for a moment before he looked at the broken sky and gave a grim nod. "So... Time to head back then?"

Nice one, I expect more stories about Tagrok. And did you hint that Kronnor is struggling with his problems? He is not struggling with them, he's mostly running from them. ;D

Nice one Tagrok :) More stories! And Kronnor, I do believe there are more Orcs with problems in the tribe than just you.

Isn't having problems one of the requirements to join the tribe in the first place?

Quote from: Kogra Windwatcher on January 08, 2017, 01:24:51 PM
Isn't having problems one of the requirements to join the tribe in the first place?

One day someone will come along with a character that is TOTALLY CHILL BRO. One day.

Quote from: Makaroth on January 08, 2017, 03:40:21 PM

Quote from: Kogra Windwatcher on January 08, 2017, 01:24:51 PM
Isn't having problems one of the requirements to join the tribe in the first place?

One day someone will come along with a character that is TOTALLY CHILL BRO. One day.

Since when do we accept pothead trolls in the guild?

I'd like to have an orc in the tribe that has living family members. I mean its been 30+ years since camps and we could have a totally normal regular orc from the heretical alt universe its only childhood trauma being not getting the Stormsnout, Cairne and Thrall action figure set they wanted as a cub.

All sarcasm aside, nice lil insight of his character Tagrok, once i get my rp mojo back Arkail will no doubt be hovering about you for ic'ly insights

Quote from: Kronnor on January 08, 2017, 12:11:29 PM
... did you hint that Kronnor is struggling with his problems?

Nope, he didn't even cross my mind when I wrote that sentence.
Thank you for your kind words by the way. It's encouraging since I thought this was quite lacking.

As he watched Ironclaw move away from the bonfire with his bundle in hand, Tagrok took a look to his left. Facebreaker and Silverlight were already engaged in deep conversation about a warlock and the Elder. He cocked an eyebrow and moved towards the Inn to tend to his wounds. The makeshift troll hut could hardly be called an Inn but at least it was sheltering him from the ever-present rain of Zangarmarsh.

He took a seat near the eastern balcony, threw his chainmail onto one of the hammocks and placed his weapon next to him on the ground. He pulled out several bandages, a rather clean rag and a small container from his backpack. Eventually he called out to the "Innkeeper" and asked for a basin of clean water. The troll complied and soon Tagrok was dabbing at the claw marks on his neck with slow and tender movements.

As he got used to the stinging sensation, his mind drifted towards the task at hand. He would set out to Shattrath this very night, find a portal to Orgrimmar and - if lucky - catch the next boat that would ship out a fresh regiment to the isles.

Eventually he tossed the rag into the basin and opened the small container, revealing a salve. He couldn't even remember who handed it to him. Was it Steelheart or Windwatcher? Perhaps Silverlight? It didn't matter, it was a gift from an ally and he made good use of it. He sighed to himself - As much as he felt disconnected from the orcs and elf the past weeks, all the more did leaving them behind sting him.

As he was bandaging his neck he caught a glimpse of the letter he had received a while ago. The purple wax seal had been broken, but it was still clinging to the parchment.

"Scout Tagrok,
Your services are required in the latest operation of the Horde's campaign on the Broken Isles. Our forces are about to head into Suramar, ancient capital of Elven civilization and current Legion stronghold. All able-bodied soldiers are hereby being recalled to the isles. Report to Orgrimmar on the 21st day of this month, there will be several ships waiting to move the troops.

Victory or death
under orders of the Warchief,
Forsaken High Command"

The orc was now getting dressed and from his position near the balcony could spot the other two still talking near the bonfire. He gathered up his furs, put on his armour and stuffed his belongings into his backpack. Bow slung over one shoulder and axe in hand, Tagrok vaulted over the railing and left Zabra'jin - and the Red Blade - under the cover of night.

Maaan he shoulda come and said proper bye XD Rashka and Neree was busy all night though cleaning up and talking. But now I feel bad, we should of accompanied him in the inn before he left Dx

Don't be, Tag is just too thickheaded to ask someone to come with him! It gave me a reason to sit and write this little thing that everybody can have a look at rather than just saying bye to three people all in all.

Wish I could have stayed more last night so we could have had a little more rp before you left. But it was pretty late already and I had to work in the morning. Anyway, hope to see you soon. o7

A good read just like the last one :) I'm expecting some action-packed Broken Isles war stories!

Seconding nosh here  good read but I am going too need stories from the front.

I arrived in Orgrimmar without problems , if a bit late. The trip to Shattrath took longer than expected, had to make my way past several wayward bog lords. Eventually arrived in Shattrath and was able to secure a portal from a Shattered Sun magus.Damn things still make my stomach churn. Barely had time for rest before I had to head to Bladefist Bay. Quite the fleet, hopefully we won't lose most of it again. We'll set anchor near Stormheim where the bulk of Forsaken forces are, then move south-west towards Suramar.


Stormheim is as I left it, for the most part. Weather's mostly the same, gray, dull and wet. The mutts are still engaged in deadlock with the Forsaken. At least the vrykul and their fel masters lost much of their momentum in the area. We set out from Dreadwake's Landing and moved around Hrydshal - still occupied by vrykul - towards the pass leading into Suramar proper. Minor ambush by Legion forces, mostly fel bats.


Suramar. I still remember catching glimpses of it from the tall mountains of Stormheim. It reminds me of the Vale of Eternal Blossoms somehow. Not the same... Enchanted beauty as the Vale, but something very similiar. Me and several scouts have moved ahead to assess the situation. The vrykul village to the east is under siege by the Naga - unchanged situation from what one of my companions tells me. Legion and Nightborne loyalist presence is heavy, especially right outside Suramar city. Currently surveiling one of their camps. Fel-corrupted elves around, several demons. They seem to have their attention on the northern pass - likely anticipating our forces. We remain hidden for no-... *The handwriting cuts off with a sharp-line midsentence*

Exciting stuff! More more more <3

RIP Tagrok. He will be missed o7
xD

Ambush. Legion Nightborne bastards. Thrice damned fel magics. Zanghrak, the Troll and the Elf are dead. Kitumn and I barely escaped. Supplies are running low. I can hear them in the dark...


We are safe, for now. Found a cave near the Stormheim border. Kitumn lost an ear but seems to endure. I am mostly uscathed but had to leave my bow - or rather, what was left of it - behind. We aim for Dreadwake. But first we must hunt...


For all the talk about being one with nature, Kitumn hunts with ferocity. His stoic facade crumbling when trying to survive. After a makeshift meal we made good a few more miles, avoiding the Towers at the mountain pass leading into Stormheim.


THE SKY TORE OPEN - GREEN, FIERY AND OMNIOUS - WHAT IS GOING ON?! Have the end times arrived at last? Did we lose the war? Kitumn had to gather himself, said the world was churning in agony and terror. I do not know how long it will take to reach Dreadwake. The isles are crawling with demons. I ask the spirits for protection - all the while shaking my head in disbelief.


We have arrived at the narrow mountain pass under Hrydshal. The Vrykul seem to have vanished. I see no Storm Dragons either. Something omnious hangs in the air... We are close now, a waterfall and several stretches of mountain trail between us and the relative safety of Dreadwake - If it even still exists.

If one of my Horde bretheren finds this - next to my broken body or not - bring it to Ironclaw of the Orcs of the Red Blade.

A salty breeze blew over the deck of the Warborne, one of several troop transports bound to Orgrimmar from the Broken Isles. The orc stirred in one of the makeshift hammocks crowding the ship - which was unusually flat and as such had limited space available for storage. Orcs, Trolls, Goblins and Tauren were either resting or performing menial tasks as Tagrok rose and shook off the last vestiges of sleep.



It had been several months since he left for the Broken Isles - ten to be exact. Barely arriving he had been sent off by the Forsaken High Command to scout ahead deep into Legion territory. His unit had consisted of five scouts: Himself and another orc, a Troll in plate armor, Kitumn the Tauren shaman and an Elven spellcaster who was unusually chatty. Their foray into Suramar went on without problems, the Storm Drakes too busy with whatever prey they were devouring in their caves far above the clouds and the Vrykul squabbling all over Stormheim after the fall of their God-King. The village near the shore had its' hands full with the Naga and as such wasn't deemed an immediate threat.

The night of the ambush they had made camp on a narrow overlook, mapping troop movements of Felborne - Dangerously close to the Twilight Vinyards. The spellcaster seemed on edge, looking upon the ruins with their green haze mirrored in his green eyes. Hunger? Fear? Seeds of betrayal? Tagrok couldn't know. Didn't want to know what went on through the Elf's head. The Troll stood guard downhill, squatting under one of the purple-leafed trees so common in Suramar, looking for movement in the shadows. The other orc, Zanghrak, kneeled on the opposite side of the camp - It was his turn to observe the elves. Tagrok sat with Kitumn, preparing their rations. A fire would be detrimental, so they had the Elf heat up a few large rocks, set the small iron pot onto them and filled it with water, vegetables and strips of dried boar meat.

With a now familiar melancholy, Tagrok remembered similar gatherings with far more Orcs and other companions. The Inn in Razor Hill. Splintertree Post deep inside Ashenvale. The swamps of Dustwallow. The smoldering armor of a Death Knight in an unfamiliar place. Distant Tanaris and Silithus trembling under a united Horde. Nagrand with its broken sky. Zangarmarsh with its damp, oppresive climate. It was but a few months that he walked with the Red Blade, often doubting his place with them. The weeks at sea had tempered his childish outbursts somewhat, especially when he started yearning for a warm Bonfire and soft furs. Rembering the guidance of the more experienced and the patience of the grizzled few.

"You've grown quiet again, Archer. This is no place for remembrance, even if you aren't on duty." the Tauren said, nostrils flaring as he smiled. His heavy-lidded eyes were a clear blue, his shaggy mane black.

With a sigh, Tagrok looked up from the bubbling broth and nodded: "You are right Kitumn, but I can't help it. I thought that my assignment would help me deal with my issues. All it did was make it worse."

The Shaman stirred the contents of the pot with a wooden spoon and tilted his head. "It is not the assignment, nor the War's fault that you are troubled, friend. The serenety you seek comes with acceptance. Did you follow the advice I gave you back on our first rest on the way here?"

"Listening to the wind and feeling the earth? I'm no Shaman, neither do I feel connected to the Spirits like you are." grimmaced the Orc, scrippling in a ragged leather notebook as he answered the Tauren.

"And that is where you're wrong my friend. All of the Earthmother's creations can listen to her calls. The winds whisper, the rivers speak. Earth and fire have their own tongues. You just believe yourself to be deaf to them all out of habit. Or perhaps you're afraid of the truths they bear."

The Orc grinned. This had become something of a daily routine to the two of them. Kitumn urged him to listen to the elements and Tagrok shook his head, all the while wondering if the Tauren was right.

Just then, Zanghrak seemed to cough. Tagrok turned around, about to tell him off for laughing about a companion's dilemma - But the older Orc was lying flat on his face, an arrow piercing his throat. Tagrok and Kitumn stood at once, knocking the iron pot over and spilling its contents over the rocky surface. A green flash behind them made them turn once more - just in time to see their Troll comrade errupt into emerald flames.

"Ambush! Defensive formation!" yelled the Shaman as he grabbed hold of his totem-mallet and shield.

Tagrok dove for his bow, grabbing it just in time as a Felborne glaive-wielder appeared from the shadows next to him - Weapon rushing down to meet the Orc. He lifted his bow, deflecting the blow but shattering his weapon in the process. The glaive came from the left now, menacing and inevitable. Before it could find its mark, the assailant's hands turned blue with frostbite. The Felborn fell to its knees and screamed before he was fully enceased in a crystal tomb. The Orc turned to give his spellcaster squad-mate an appreciating nod - He caught a glimpse of the Elf just in time to see a dagger being run through him from behind, another Felborne sneering as he removed the weapon from the spellcaster's corpse.

"GET MOVING, WE NEED TO BREAK THROUGH. TAGROK!" The shout shook the Orc from his stupor and sent him scrambling after Kitumn, who was hurling lightning at anything that moved.

"We won't make it through! They have us surrounded!" yelled Tagrok as he caught up to the Tauren, breathing heavily.

"You should be more trusting of the Elements, Archer." - with that, the Tauren hefted one of the wooden Totems attached to his harness and planted it into the ground, lightning bursting from his palm and into the grinning idol's eyes. Clouds gathered and winds churned as bolts of rained down on the surrounding Felborne.

The smell of charred, demonic flesh mixed with faint aroma of the stew, strewn among the corpses as Orc and Tauren descended into the shadows of the woods.



What happened afterwards was a blur. There were other Felborne on their trail, some they cut down, others they avoided stealthily. They survived in the wilderness, the two of them. Makeshift spears and hunger as their only weapons. Exhaustion and disorientation played their part while they looked for allied forces on the trip back to Stormheim. They eventually found another unit, reported their failure and losses and were sent back on the next caravan to Dreadwake. From there they were reassigned to other units. Kitumn went to Val'sharah, helping a group of Druids with some agitated elementals. They bid their farewells in Dreadwake, the Tauren handing him a totemic talisman. As he stepped on the caravan he smiled, as he often did before the massacre and said: "And yet they speak. You only need listen." while the Orc looked away, roughly rubbing his forearm over his eyes.

And here he was now, a few hours away from Orgrimmar. Durotar came into view before long, seemingly unchanged. Orgrimmar, Razor Hill, Home.

Perhaps he should visit the Inn again.

Whew, this one goes back quite a bit! Surprised I didn't catch this before, though it was during a time when I was inactive myself. Love the way you present the stories though! Nice, little snippets. Will definitely try to keep up with them. :D