One final night

[Srelok]

My axe feels heavy on my back as I sit here, looking out over the red plains. terror seizes my throat and my palms sweat. I try not to let the others show I'm terrified of the prospect of this battle. I'm not built for war... I'm already pretty certain I will not be one of those who'll make it through the portal at all. Something tells me I'll die early on in the battle..

All around me the lands seeks to distract me from getting rest. So much pain and sorrow still clings to this place. It's not only the site of several battles, it's a wound in the world. My head aches as I think of it.
Why now? Why are we the ones ideally situated to attempt this madness? Why don't the others realise were about to die in unnumerable horrendous wa-
No. We shall not falter, even if some might die. We have the might of the Horde at our side. And if I am to die in this assault, I will die with my honour intact and facing the enemy. I just need to speak to my cousin before we set out. Rhonya will know what to say and do. She'll help me regain my courage..

I find myself wondering about my father. Did Skar'lok ever feel this afraid before a battle? What would he say about his weakwilled little brat going into a suicidal fight? I bite my lip, gazing out over the plains as these thoughts smash into me. I shake my head violently to not have to think about him. Unfortunately he seems to have wormed his way into my subconscious.
I can almost hear him gloat about my ineptitude, my frailty, my fear...

I sit here on a ledge, paralysed by fear on what might be my final night. And I wonder how I'm ever going to face the tribe...