Grim resolve

[Kozgugore]

The ground shook in a rhythmic beat as if the earth itself was drumming. It unsettled the orc as he shifted his weight from one foot to another. Looking up, he awakened from his line of thought. He muttered to himself as he realized he must have drifted off again. Who knows how many had tried to speak to him during all this? He lifted a hand, dragging it over his tired features underneath the wolf mask that thankfully hid his worried and exhausted eyes. Coming back to his senses, he realized where he was again. It was not another one of those earthquakes that had so frequently plagued the world, but the very shaking in itself was due to the many tauren that had gathered up for a great dance in front of him. The last few rays of sun shone over the mountains, casting a faint shadow on the many dancing figures as they celebrated around the great bonfire.

The entire evening, the tauren and their many guests here had feasted and celebrated on behalf of what they called the Earthmother. The orc has always been largely unfamiliar with this supposed deity â€" and little did he truly care either â€" but he respected what others believed. On top of that, he simply had to be here, in the interest of keeping a good image with the tauren. After all, many of them had gotten the wrong impression of the orcish race with the recent death of their leader Cairne Bloodhoof at the hand of Garrosh Hellscream. He shared little of young Hellscream’s convictions, but born and bred a Warsong, he nevertheless had to remain loyal to that which he’s bound to. As such, it was as a Warsong that he was willing to accept the newfound leadership of the Horde. However, it was as a Chieftain that he came here, with the interest of Thrall’s New Horde at heart, still keeping open arms to the tauren as their honourable ally.

In retrospect however, it would seem he would have been better off sending an envoy for this kind of thing. He simply couldn’t get his mind around the celebrations properly. For the past several days, the only thing on his mind was the fate of his lost mate and first-born son, and sleep had been an increasingly difficult thing to grasp. He had tried his best to listen to the tauren’s explanation of what they called the Earthmother and the teachings of the tauren and their belief, but his mind simply had no more will to cling to any such things.

He made a final effort to look around and see whether there were any festivities that caught his eye, but despite the wholesome fruits, the dancing tauren and orcs and the mystic songs that were played, his mind drifted off, and his gaze soon became unfocused. He could hear someone talk close to him, but he cared little whether the voice was directed at him or whoever stood next to him. He lifted his head, nodding at the vague figure that stood in the corner of his eyes, and muttering an excuse as he slowly turned away from the celebrations.

Guiding his riding worg by the reins, he walked down the path leading up to the Great Wall that had been erected to safekeep Mulgore from the Alliance invaders.  There was nothing more for the orc here. Any innkeeper, any brave, any tauren that might have possibly been able to spot an orc mother with a child with her, he had questioned. It soon became clear to him that this is in fact not the direction in which she ventured. The chieftain mulled his options as he slowly approached the wall with an unsteady stride, wafting up the dust underneath his feet in a long trail of smoke. She didn’t venture to the north of Taurajo either, because none of the refugees there had even seen her coming that way. It must have been to the south, but that direction trails off into several paths as well.

The wall had been beyond anything he had imagined the tauren were capable of. Thunder Bluff was a marvel in itself, but its foundations were made purely by nature, or their beloved Earthmother, instead of sheer craftsmanship. This gate, however, was erected by hard-working hands. He set foot on the stairs leading up to the ramparts above, and as he stood on top of them, breathing in the fresh air at such a high vantage point, the orc looked over what is now a barren battlefield, the humans for now having given up on their advance into what he considered to be his land still. They have no place here, and they will surely be dealt with when this is all over. That is to say, after he has at long last found her. For all this time, he had refused to believe to think the she-orc dead, but the longer he pondered this, the more doubtful he became. With every passing day, his chances at finding her back alive diminish. It slowly started to daunt upon the orc that he may well just be fooling himself for thinking her alive. Lowering his gaze to his hand, he lifted a small bone-necklace that rests in his palm, its worn bones hanging down from his outstretched hand. Brushing a thumb over the center bone, which was carved with blood-red runes, he quietly mused to himself, his voice grim and bitter.

“Grom-damn it, snarler… where are you? This ain’t how it ends.”

[Okiba]

poor koz :<

[Mazguul]

Beautifully written, Kozgugore, and so horrible at the same time!