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December 15, 2011, 06:30:00 PM
Journey to Northrend
It had been a long journey. The tribe had set out from the harbour of Bilgewater Port in Azshara, where they had prepared and commandeered a vessel to bring them to the far reaches of the icy land of Northrend. Here, they would endure the harsh cold of Northrend for the next few weeks, in order to harvest resources and secure the lands for any other necessities the Horde required. Several days, they had spent on the sea. But at last, a cry came from the top of the mast.
“Land in sight!â€
The orcs jumped to action, ending their meetings on a quick note as they prepared to make land. Chieftain Kozgugore Feraleye, in turn, made his way to the front of the ship, where Krogon Devilstep was keeping firm control of the ship’s wheel. As the Chieftain squinted his eyes northward, there was indeed a hint of land to be seen. It was tiny and vague, but definitely there. They slowly sailed closer, but whereas it became bigger, it became more clouded as well. It then started to dawn upon him; a fog was setting in on them.
“Be on the lookout, orcs! These mists have claimed many ships and orcs before us!â€
Before Kozgugore knew it, the mists had fully enveloped the ship, offering sight little more than a few yards ahead of them. Some of the orcs grew edgy, and New Blood Mozrogg joined Krogon at the helm of the ship, trying to look ahead for the helmsman.
“Yer be goin’ in blind, Devilstep!â€
“I can’t steer back out now, we’ll hit ice.â€
“I’m makin’ out a large rock to yer port, Krogon-… You ‘ear that?â€
Blindly, the orcs navigated their way through the dense fog, when suddenly a wind started to pick up the ship’s sails, sending the ship up and down the crashing waves. A chilling breeze wafted over the deck, and any orc that might have been carefully listening could have sworn he heard a low, eerie horn in the far distance. Kozgugore reached for the ropes next to him, holding on tightly.
“Sounds like a storm brewing… Brace yourselves, orcs! This might just be a rough ride before we’re through!â€
As the orcs manned their stations, the winds picked up, sending the ship rocking once again. With any luck, Kozgugore could still see the two orcs in front of him by the helm, though the rest of the ship and its orcs were clouded in the mists even for him. He could still hear however. He heard the waves swirling against the ship’s hull, bashing upon its reinforced frame time and time again as they rode wave after wave. He also heard footsteps on the wooden deck, some with a panicking rhythm to them. He heard an orc crying out a warning as well. He looked around, ready to raise his voice above all the commotion, when the ship suddenly seemed to crash against something from the starboard side.
“Hold on! Remain on your posts, orcs!â€
It appeared to be too late already, however. The ship started to heave heavily to the side, and along with the chilly winds, a heavy rain started to pour forth into the ship’s sails. Mozrogg started to lose his balance, crying out to Krogon.
“You said we -wouldn’t- crash! Watch out!â€
He could hear screams to his right, but saw nothing. What he did see, was that the ship’s wheel had become unmanned. Krogon must have been thrown away from it. It seemed to matter little, as it was completely out of control already. Not even the strongest orc could probably have tamed it any more. All things unsecured soon started to tumble to the side, falling overboard and taking any unlucky orcs that were in its path with it. Kozgugore only narrowly managed to avoid a falling crate, though only until a high wave crashed against the hull with tremendous force, giving the ship that one, final push it needed to collide fully. Shouts and screams went all across the deck, but the fog was simply too dense to allow any orc to make a difference. They were taking water, and it became obvious that the ship wouldn’t last long. It was when the sound of a falling mast could be heard that the ship took a final dip to the side, sending any and all orcs flying into the water. Kozgugore tried to hold on to the rope for dear life, desperately looking for his mate or anyone else of his tribe, before a crate sent him, too, flying.
Suddenly, he felt himself crashing into something hard and cold. Darkness filled up around him, and objects, be it crates or orcs, could only barely be seen floating around him under water. It was with a last struggle that he fought against the current, when a giant cannon could be seen crashing into the water.
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