The Life and Lies of Gruthruk Drakeblade. [Collection of RP Stories]

[Azolg]

(( An upcoming project i'm working on. Moar info will be posted as and when I release it. For now, enjoy this short prelude :3

Music to listen to should you deem it: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PLyi5xHtkb0 ))

Prelude: Silencing Sabotage

The boot slammed down in the mud, causing ripples to splash everywhere and covering the dark grey flesh with a smeared brown smudge. The swamp was as filthy and rain-drenched as ever, filled with the unmistakable scent of faeces and muck. Truly it was a vile and disgusting place to be, and the creatures that inhabited this swamp were as vile as the surroundings. Swamp-walkers shambled through the sticky marshes as tiny insets fed off the pulsating ooze that flowed from their pours.

The owner of the boot snarled and lifted his head high, the nostrils flaring wide as he inhaled the stench of the swamp. Wrinkling his nose in disgust the Orc growled once more and reached for the rolled up parchment in his satchel. Thick fingers unrolled the scroll and the fierce looking red eyes scrawled across the ink words etched into it.

“By order of the Ratchet Council.

The outlaw Goblin vigilante known as 'Sneezle Sabotage' is wanted dead or alive for the following crimes: murder, treason, conspiracy to murder, sabotage and criminal damage. Reward of fifty gold coins will be presented for either an unconscious Sneezle to be tried and executed, or the head of the Goblin along with his signet ring to identify the vigilante.”

The Dragonmaw Orc's thin mouth curled into a crooked grin – He had got the Goblins scent alright. Amidst the disgusting smells of the swamp was that of burning oil; an unnatural sound for such a wet disgusting pool of filth. The wind carried it like a stolen secret whispered into the ear of a foe, swift and without trust. Raising his other boot again, he trudged through the mud once more – surging through the filth and bile to reach his prize.

It took another fifteen agonising minutes to reach the source of burning oil, and another five to find a suitable position both downwind and quit to approach. The scene was basic at best – A small hill with a Goblin sat upon it, the oil fire burning both ferociously and comfortingly. The Goblin himself was nothing spectacular. Garbed in simple functional leather the vigilante appeared at ease – the mechanical eye on his head staring into the fire as the long green fingers gently ran over the barrel of his rifle. Seemingly unaware of his surroundings though, Sneezle had in fact laid tripwires around the camp, acting as his eyes and ears while he relaxed. Only a fool would expect a Goblin to appear so relaxed without some form of plan, the Orc thought to himself.

Gruthruk's eyes darted across the surrounding area as the sharp iris's picked out the nearly invisible tripwires. Allowing himself one more crooked grin he moved closer into position; his light step allowing him to approach without the slightest bit of sound.

Sneezle twitched at the fire, looking around alertly. Yet it was a twitch of a nervous soul and one that had no real substance behind it. Being on the run, you're always on edge Gruthruk thought to himself.

As he silently unsheathed his blades, Gruthruk crouched down low and tensed his legs ready to spring. Sneezle continued staring into the fire, unawares of his incoming fate.

Gruthruk pushed hard and sprung high into the air, clear of the tripwire and landed with a splash in the swamp at the bottom of the small mound. The effect on the Goblin was instantaneous, as Sneezle yelped and leapt into the air, Gruthruk charged up the hill – seconds away from his prey.

Green fingers found the trigger of the rifle and in panic squeezed tightly. A bullet ripped down the chamber of the rifle, exploding outwards towards Gruthruk. The shot however zinged past the Orcs shoulder, burying itself harmlessly into a tree stump. Gruthruk was on the Goblin in seconds, his blades piecing ugly creatures lungs and erupting out his back. Sneezle gasped in pain as the air caught in his lungs, spitting blood all over Gruthruks face. His slender fingers lost their grip on the rifle as the Orc lifted him high into the sky, the metal making a dull thud on the muddy bank-side.

Gruthruk snarled and pulled the Goblin close to his face as he spat out the final words. “Captain Bootleggit sends his regards. This is payback for killing his wife. Any last words?”

Sneezle's bottom lip trembled in pain as he whispered the final words that would leave his mouth. “The bitch .. Deseved .. Every .. S-Sec.” He managed, before his breath caught in his throat, his body went slack on the blades and Sneezle Sabotage's soul departed this realm – for whatever madness awaited him in the afterlife.

Grunting in satisfaction, he pushed the dead Goblin off his blades – the body hitting the floor with a thunk. As his eyes ran across his prey he allowed another toothy grin at the sparkling signet ring. Today was a good day. Life was good.

He was Gruthruk Drakeblade, bounty hunter.

[Thrash'Nak]

Well, well now. I cannot wait to see what this character will contain! Nice story, Keish, as always.

[Azolg]

(( Thanks Groggles, glad you enjoyed :3

Now, this is the first official step onto the history of Gruthruk. As some of you are aware, my work is particularly busy at the moment - So i'm not currently ready to throw this guy into proper RP/guild RP right now. But what I am going to be doing is RPing out his tracking of the Tribe. It will start from the Tribe breaking Kozgugore out of prison, as tha was something of a major event.

I'd like to throw out here that if anybody is interested in taking a trip back in time to RP some of the NPC's he will meet, let me know either on here or in-game! Its going to be interesting RP'ing in about 7 months in the past, but should certainly be fun.

Anyway, without further adieu, here is the first peg of the Gruthruk tracking laddder! Enjoy!

And of course, music: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SI2nXIjz1sk ))

Chapter 1: The Contract

.. Two weeks after Kozgugore Feraleye was broken out of Orgrimmar prison ..

The cleft of shadow within of Orgrimmar is home to a thousand different kind of scum. Warlocks, shadow-stalkers, thugs, drag-whores and many more different kinds of brutes inhabited the foul pit within the bowls of the city. Fights were a daily occurrence, murder wasn't unheard of and demon summoning deep within the caverns below was a rare but real situation.

The cleft as usual was a bustle of activity with arcanists and other educated users of magic running around – clutching satchels filled with ingredients, spell-tomes and various other unusual things held into their chests. News had travelled fast that the Red Blade Tribe had managed to slip past Orgrimmars guard and break into the prison. Not only that but they had dispatched any guards silently on the way and got their Chieftain Kozgugore out. To add insult to injury, they weren't even detected until they were outside the city. Truly it was an embarrassing day for the Kor'kron.

Orgrimmar however still had things to run, borders to protect and patrols to order within the homelands. The individual gangs within the city still operated despite the current state of affairs – And one gang still held a certain amount of notoriety within the city walls; The Shattertooths.

A group of vicious individuals that spared no quarter against their foes, and yet they were shamed. Their viscous leader 'Brogoth the bloodied.' had been bought low and reduced to a blithering mess of stupidity. The reason for such massive brain damage and a disjointed and vacant jaw was the result of a bar brawl over a year ago. And the Shattertooths want revenge.

“Her name is Grogona. She's a piece of shit.” Spat the burly half-blind Orc, glaring at the Dragonmaw bounty hunter before him.

“Grm. A piece of shit she might be, but she did a damn good job on your boss. He's worse than a feckin' peon now.” Gruthruk grunted, a smirk falling upon his lips as he gazed at the dribbling mess of an Orc.

“Bite yer' feckin' tongue bounty hunter. You want this contract or not?”

“Heh. Continue.”

The grizzled Shattertooth snarled, turning his back on Gruthruk. Producing a piece of parchment he turned back and passed it to Gruthruk, who snatched it up quickly before unrolling it. The paper had a sketch of an Orc female on it, detailed and informative.

“This is her?”

“Aye, we had five witness's describe her and got that drawn up. And this, this is the contract.” The Shattertooth replied, passing another roll of parchment to Gruthruk.

The Dragonmaw grunted as he unrolled the paper, scanning it with his dark brown eyes and taking in every piece of information. The parchment read as follows.

“By order of the Shatterooths.

The she-orc known as Grogona, or aptly named “Jaw'breaker.” is to be recovered alive for the sum of two hundred gold, or dead for a sum of one-hundred and fifty gold. Wanted for trial and execution for the brain damage of Brogoth the Bloodied.” The warrant was signed with a somewhat fake looking Hellscream signature.

Gruthruk looked back at the Shattertooth in front of him, raising an eyebrow. “This is sanctioned eh? Officially?”

The Orc laughed, deep and guttural. “Of course not. But we know how to forge warrents. Its a close enough match for anyone outside of Orgrimmar not to question it. Not that they care out there in the world.”

Gruthruk nodded, tucking away both pieces of parchment inside his jacket. Frowning lightly he turned away, then cast his gaze across his shoulder once more. “Any idea where she was headed when she left Orgrimmar?”

The half-blind Orc snarled, folding his arms. “She took a boat to Northrend. Howling Fjord. Thats the last anyone saw of her. Apparently looking for this Red Blade Tribe. Last I heard, they were headed to Camp Winterhoof. But that was over a year ago. No clue where they are now. Good luck tracking them down Dragonmaw.” The Shattertooth snarled, grinning lightly.

Gruthuk chuckled once himself. “For that kind of money – I'll make sure this is quick.” Turning back he clomped out, a grin etched on his face as he pulled on his mask once more. A goal ahead of him. A contract.

I will -find- you, Grogona 'Jawbreaker' ..