The forging of a Bond
The outskirts of Garadar:
The wind blew carelessly and harshly at Thrash as he walked out of the camp of Garadar. Determinded he peered the sky, searching, but alas he couldn’t spot it.
He kicked a loose stone and grunted; “Where’s the damned beast? Ergh, best have to walk abit further before I start calling him†He looked over his shoulder and spotted a few Kosh’Harg guests, whom peered at him strangely.
One awkwardly called out to him, “No weapons inside the camp, return the hammer to the hut. Or I will report it!â€.
To which Thrash kept walking on and replied in a childish mocking manner “No weapons in the camp! Mom said so!â€
The border of Terokkar forest:
The clear line of Terokkar stress, warning the border of Nagrand met Thrash suddenly, as he woke up from daydreaming, he laughed at his own joke in his mind, but quickly stopped to find that no one was near to hear it.
He sighed, and smiled abit at his own joke, before he started roaring out his call for Fram’Myr, his Proto-drake. After a few attempts, the drake circled around him, before it landed lazily infront of Thrash.
It’s harsh wings bashed up dust and dirt, and settled down. It starred into Thrash’s eyes with a violent gaze, that could’ve shook the lesser of hearts. Thrash stood his ground and smashed his fist into it’s snout, to which the drake barely recoiled. A low guttural snarl of approval emitted from its gut and the great winged beast, lowered his shoulder.
Thrash climbed Fram’Myr, and grabbed the chained reins and off they went, with a powerful push of even greater wings.
The mouthains of the Highlands (Twilgiht Highlands)
The warm air felt good on Thrash’s skin as he glided over the last mountain, finally revealing his ruined homeland, his gaze scouted the area before him.
He shook his head, now was not the time, for he had a task at hand, but yet he couldn’t completely shake old feelings and wounds, ever so often, his gaze would return to the direction of his old home.
Thrash knew where he would find his prize and he knew it’s price, and only hoped he would have no trouble getting it, determinded, he tightend his reins and commanded Fram’Myr into a dive, finding the mountains near the heathen infested camps.
He had expected to be spotted the moment, him and Fram’Myr drew near, but alas patrols were not on duty.
Awkwardly he landed on the ground, he grunted trying to figure out a joke, and shrugged his shoulders. As he got off Fram’Myr, he looked him straight into his eyes. “You’re quite CLAW-SOMEâ€, Thrash laugh out loudly, forgetting the nearby camps, yet to his luck no one heard, or cared.
Fram’Myr starred in disbelief at his orc companion and bashed him on the ground easily with his wing, and flew off, roaring disapprovingly.
Thrash sighed, but alas grinned, “Heh, guess I’ll have to walk then! Damned beast..â€. He shook his head and swung his hammer down onto the Elementium vein.
Sholazar basin:
Thrash couldn’t help but smile, as he breached the thick clouds, covering the vast jungle of Sholazar, of what had been his hunting ground for the past six, eventful years.
The area boomed with mystery still yet to be discovered. Fram’Myr shook his back violently, and let out a guttural roar, announcing his return to his homeland. The jungle answered back, with a swarm of frightened birds, a roar of a nearby beast and the stampeding hoofs of nearby wildlife.
The jungle was swarming with life. Thrash let loose of his reins, opening arm his arms, letting in all of it. “Speak, Fram’Myr, truly let them all know, that we have returned!†And the proto-drake did, roaring out an even louder guttural roar, than the last. This time however, It was answered.. From below!
Thrash ripped hard in his reins, trying to dodge the incoming assailant, but alas to no success. In answer to Fram’Myr’s roar, came one of equal strength, as its owner’s jaws snapped around Fram’Myrs tail! The great proto-drake roared out in pain, as it snapped back at its attacker.
Thrash being able to do nothing but cling on for dear life, as the pair of drakes plummeted down, towards the ever closing ground! The aggressive proto-drake finally let go of Fram’Myr, and Thrash barely made a recovery, now facing a foe much too great for Fram’Myr to take on alone!.
They would have to work as a team to take down a beast of this size!
Without letting them two of them recover, the proto-drake lunged at them for another attack, to which Thrash responded with a rip in his reins, barely dodging this attack.
“FANGS, FRAM’MYRâ€
he commanded at the top of his lungs, and the proto-drake obeyed, lunging its jaws around the neck of the attacking proto-drake. The enemy drake turned its mid-air, meeting Fram’Myr head on, and the two drakes clashed mid-air, in a flurry of claws and fangs.
Thrash clung on for dear life, as he tried to rip the reins into a retreat, the enemy proto-drake swiped a great claw at him, slashing his arm open, and his red blood stained the already bloody scene.
The two parted again, circling in a bloody air battle.
This time, instead, it was the pair that initiated an attack, Thrash rose up in his saddle, standing up now, and once again he shouted “FANGS, FRAM’MYRâ€, he commanded at the top of his lungs.
The proto-drake gave out a guttural roar in response, as the two proto-drakes once again clashed in a deadly flurry of fire, fangs and claws.
Just what Thrash was hoping for. Letting go of Fram’Myrs reins, he sprinted up the spine of the proto-drake and floored his great hammer into the neck of the enemy drake, making a crashing blow, the great hammer swung out of his grip, as pain ceased him. He once again clung on for dear life.
The enemy drake recoiled onto its back, now plummeting towards the rising ground, with its soft belly exposed.
Fram’Myr gave no mercy, as he dug deep with his claws, ripping open the defeated proto-drake, and bashed his wings, dominantly.
They regained their altitude, before slowing descending onto the dying proto-drake. Thrash knew that despite their companionship, to never get in the way of a proto-drakes prey, and as soon as safety permitted it, he jumped off Fram’Myr, clashing onto the ground, holding his wounded arm.
The victorious Fram’Myr approached his defeated opponent, putting his weight onto the wounded drake, and growled out a guttural growl as he sank his fangs into the neck of the proto-drake, until a satisfying crack echoed throughout the trees, the green ground underneath stained in red blood, from a worthy drake.
Fram’Myr rose up onto his hind legs and roared out a defeaning roar before reuniting with his orc companion. Thrash collected his prize and the two united into a victory battle cry, for he knew, that not only did they best death, they had also bonded for life, and the two would only part on their last breath.