Bound by Honour

[Trakmar]

Trakmar sat on the side of the ship, deep in thought. Turning his back on the Horde had left an impact on him. They offered shelter when his kin was nearly extinct. A troubled look has been on his face for the past few days, since he decided to stay with the Tribe, rather then the Horde. Perhaps he made the wrong choice? After all, Garrosh is his own kin, and while he has said Garrosh is dead to him, did he believe it himself?

He looks out at the ocean in the night, then suddenly lunges forward to the side of the ship, throwing up. He is obviously no seadog.

"Egh, damn this ocean..."

He sat down again, snorting as he wipes his mouth and drinks some water, and his troubled expression comes back. He thought back to the days in Garadar, where he and his clan had been welcomed with open arms. Such hospitality is rare among Orcs these days.

Having helped the Mag'har for so many years, and serving under Garrosh even back then, he was only left with a sickly feeling. He had made an oath to never turn his back on his leader. A promise now broken. Trakmar is bound by honour to Garrosh, like any other Mag'har. He tilted his head backwards, looking at the star-filled sky. Not a cloud was near, and there was a calm breeze, just as he remembers Nagrand.

Turning m'back on what I had sworn ter protect...

Trakmar knew of the atrocities. He knew that Garrosh's newly sprung Warrior spirit could get in the way of doing what is right. Then again, if he truly sees it as right, is it wrong? This new world brought oppertunities. A new life. A time for Orcs to become what they once were was Trakmar's dream. Seeing them return to their shamanistic heritage. By now, that all seems long gone.

Trakmar shook his head, and got onto his feet, grunting. He went down below deck, the snoring of the other Orcs strangely giving a secure feeling, dispite some of the Orcs sounding like a Goblin shredder. He sat down on a bench close to his mate and looked at her, all the thoughts still running through his head.

Was it worth it? He stood by the Horde in Northrend, and later aiding the Horde in the war during the Cataclysm. Serving well, and now a traitor.

Traitor means you're honourless. You've stepped on what you made an oath to. Was the whole tribe now just a bunch of honourless whelps? Thinking this, Trakmar softly places a hand on his mate's stomach, a faint smile slowly forming on his lips, and speaks with a hushed voice, to not wake anyone up.

Hrm, maybe it'll be like old times? The tribe be on its own now, like the Clans once were.

It be what I've been after fer so long...

He took his hand off Keishara, then went back up onto the deck, again sitting down by the side of the ship. He looked up at the sky again, grunting.

"Maybe we be better off this way... Dispite how treacherous we be..."

With that, he went back to thinking, pondering what to do next. Conflicted whether he should be staying with the Tribe or the Horde.

[Azolg]

A very nice read into Trakmar's psyche. Well written and concise. Enjoyed it.