This scream was beyond pain.
This scream was an orcs last call for help.
This scream was not just any scream.
This scream was my scream.
Slowly, the sun found its way forth and peeked over the mountain tops in the barrens, the oases waking up by sight of the sun, the dew on the leaves disappearing by the touch, everything still slumbering, waiting for anything to break the silence, and then, finally, the orcs of The Crossroads awaken.
The day begins.
In the middle of the night, while the moon is still at its highest an orc rides out, his armor, black as the darkest of nights, as his worgs fur, only the claws slightly touch on the road made it possible for anyone to hear them comming, but it would require a hunters ears not to mention a hunters experience to catch them in the dark.
Or some light, light would work too.
He rode on, past Camp Taurajo, all the way down to the dwarven mining side, he looked around, it was still dark, he would have a few hours, if he hurried, it would be enough, aslong as nothing came in the way, silently he slighted off his worg, walking off the road with his worg, before running towards the dwarven mining site, when he came closer he saw the light.
He sneaked closer, looking down, an enourmos fire had been put up in the middle of the mining site, humans and dwarves were sitting around the fire, some were dancing around the fire, to the beat of a drum played by a dwarf who was sitting close to the fire.
This was not supposed to happen, but as it looked like none of them were armed, but if they had just a small brain their weapons would be very close to them.
He shaked his head, slowly sneaking down to the mining site.
For a moment, he had doubts, should he attack atleast twenty alliance, when he was one orc?
Well, why not, he grabbed his axe, raising it above his head, letting out a fierce war cry before charging agaisnt them, but thats when it occured to him, that he had only seen where the fire had let him seen, but it was too late now, they knew where he was, he slashed down at a dwarf ripping up his back before turning around just in time to see a bunch of fully armored elves running forth from the shadows, infront of him a small group of humans made a line, he charged at them slashing his axe when he was close they moved to the side, before he even moved his axe, the humans moved aside, they were in for a hunt, he ran as fast as he could, to his worg, or Thousand Needles?
He shaked his head, he would not loose another worg to the alliance, he ran towards the Thousand Needles, just as an arrow came flying past him, he kept on running, as fast as he could, he was at the edge to Thousand Needles quickly, he stood on the edge turning around looking at the small war party running at him. Then turned around again, the lift came up, he considered it for a moment, then turned around again, no, no more running, he charged at them, roaring, he lifted his axe, the sun, appearing over a mountain top just to see the final battle of an orc.
An orc, with the name of Garrp.
((Faction changed, so.. This was kinda just an IC story for how he disappeared, I know i'm late but hey, better then late then never.))
