Battle Promotion in the Valley.

[Mhokdor Spinesnapper]

Cries had been raging over the icy mountain terrain, metal being crushed and rock being pulverised, so much blood had been shed but yet the area was maiden white, as if no-one had ever tread the place.
Snow slowly settled on the corpses and lost arms, the lakes slowly freezing into a whole and the Dwarven tanks in it, for once in a long time it had gone quiet in Alterac Valley, but it would not last long.


In the tent of the general Drek’thar the officers and warmasters gathered to report on the happenings of the last few days, Mhokdor was amongst them.

Mhokdor sat silently, fiddling with a piece of loose cloth in his hands while keeping his focus on the general, all his weapons and armour was set for battle as if he expected to be sent out at that very moment, only his polearm lied besides him.
One of the other legionnaires was speaking of the destruction of a dwarven tank by letting it drive right off of the edge of a road, Mhokdor did not care for this achievement, he himself had climbed into a handful of those tanks by forcing the metal apart with his polearm as leverage and pulled out the dwarves and ‘fed’ them to the raging horde behind him.

Drek’thar had heard the last report of happenings and looked up to the leaders of his force, the main part was orcish, though few other races sat amongst them, he nodded to himself, knowing what to say. “Warmasters, warlords and officers, the past few days the Horde has gained much ground, and we will continue this streak! We have much to owe to the return of two officers and the new           Blood Guard who had the clever idea to blow up the rocks above one of their bunkers with a sapper goblin and crushing a whole platoon of the Stormpike guard!” Drek’thar grinned, waiting for the talk to sease, “Also, the work done by legionnaire Spinesnapper and legionnaire Elkar has given us three dwarven bunkers and made a hole in their east lines in the last few days.”
Mhokdor narrowed his eyes and looked at the one that spoke of his destruction of a tank before, he hissed: “You and I both know who did the work,” the other responded with a grin and he shrugged, “The General knows best…”.
A warmaster before them snarled at the both of them, Mhokdor grinned at her and then looked back at Drek’thar.
”...With the loss of three centurions due to the alliance’s artillery simple luck of hitting an encampment the leadership has taken a blow and the centurions will have to be replaced.” The warmaster in front of Mhokdor glanced at him, smirking, he smirked back and she quickly turned her head back to Drek’thar who finished the status reports.
”The new assignments and orders will be handed out by the centurions, who I have briefed shortly before our gathering,” Drek’thar bounded his chest, “Strength and Honour!”
Three Warmasters stood up and walked to Drek’thar’s side, standing guard, a fourth walked to the exit of the tent, the other officers either spoke to their superiours or walked out to their encampment somewhere in the valley.

Mhokdor took his polearm and got on his feet, he nearly left the tent until he was patted on his shoulder, he turned around when the fourth warmaster pulled him roughly back into the large tent, he peered at her, curious what this was about, she motioned him to follow her, he nodded as he followed her to the general, he seemed curious when Drek’thar blinded face turned to him and spoke.
”Spinesnapper, I’ve heard of your former accomplishments and see what is happening now, you’re after your old days, aren’t you?” Drek’thar grinned and before Mhokdor could answer he continued, “We’ve lost three centurions, and it would be unwise to give this opportunity to any of the other legionnaires yet, they lack the experience"
Mhokdor nodded at Drek’thar and grunted, he continued “Take this signet and talk to the quartermaster, he’ll arrange the necessary supplies, when you return from Orgrimmar you will be given your orders and be assigned.”
Mhokdor nodded again and then saluted. “Swobu General,” he then bowed, the fourth warlord walking with him to the exit of the tent, she smirked: “You conquer many things, maybe even impress me.” He grinned at her and saluted “Strength, Warmaster Tékka, Do keep the general safe in my absence," she pushed him away teasingly and Mhokdor left the tent, grinning back at her.

Mhokdor walked down to the Frostwolf village and outside of the walls, leaving marks in the fresh powder snow, passing few camps before finding his own, he entered his tent and sat with all his equipment, the next morning he would take care of the armour and markings, tomorrow he would be forced to take a zeppelin to Orgrimmar, spending two days there craving to go back to the field, but not yet for half a day.

Tonight he would wait for the snow to stop and for the next attack to begin…

[Claws]

"Nice Yarn Mhokdor"

[Ugluhk]

(( nice one mate! and you wrote all this just because you won a BG? well, I don't really care. A good story still! ))

[Claws]

(( and you wrote all this just because you won a BG? ))

((Oh that’s cruel Nrakotz  ))

[Mhokdor Spinesnapper]

((Thank yers you two ^^ and yes, I won a BG and felt like "Time for a story" since there were no more battles at night ))

[Nergul]

(( very nice! i like! ))

[Ugluhk]

(( you see Kei! IZ WAS RIGHT!  ))

[Claws]

(( you see Kei! IZ WAS RIGHT!  ))

((I bow to your knowledge of th Mhokdor))