Returning Home in Alterac

[Mhokdor Spinesnapper]

Alterac had not waited for him, thick smoke rising and red fires of destroyed bunkers, towers and tanks.
The white hills had turned red of blood and brown of mud once again, wooden fortifications were diminished to firewood on some flanks and where once were entire encampments of orcs were now large black craters with red and green in and around it.

Mhokdor disembarked from the wooden deck of the zeppelin, stepping onto cold icy stone, watching how the Frostwolf Clan had fared in his absence, he wondered if he could had done anything would he had been present, but he knew that nothing could be his blame, he was ordered to rest in Orgrimmar, as much as he disliked it.
Mhokdor walked down the stairs of the immense structure carved into the mountains until he stepped on snow, he walked passed the great tent of Drek’thar, already beginning to unstrap his shoulder pads, knowing that on the battlefield he would now wear another class of armour…

He entered the wolf pens, at the end sat a nervous undead woman and a troll man, the troll peered up at Mhokdor and immediately grabbed bandages and a quiver with arrows, Mhokdor shakes his head and put his shoulder pieces over a fence, he took off his right glove and took the medal from his palm, he tossed it to the troll, who caught it and looked at it, then turned it around and read the instription.
The undead woman looked curiously at Mhokdor, moving from left to right, her armour was broken, having nothing more than simple cloth pants and a shirt and some leather working gloves and boots, the troll poked her and handed her the signet, “Yoo get da thirtieth one mon, he be da Spinesnapsnap,” he grinned at Mhokdor. The undead woman looked at the signet, giving the back a sheepish look, she then nodded and turned around on her crate, walking to the back of the stocks.

Mhokdor looked around the wolves in the pen, not much later the undead had collected seven boxes, the troll nodded at Mhokdor and he took them with him, walking to a closeby encampment with them, he looked for an unused tent and put his crates in there, taking off his boots, leggings, belt, pauldrons and tabard and gloves, standing in nothing more than a loincloth and a plate chestpiece.
He opened the first crate and pulled out a chest piece with laminated armour plates and the signet of the Horde, he put it on and then put on the rest of his new Centurion Battle-armour, when he had it all he wondered what was in the seventh crate.
Mhokdor opened the seventh crate, finding a brand-new Frostwolf Tabard, together with a cloak and helmet, for a moment he smiled, putting them over his chest-piece and finally he put on his helmet, he looked at his new battle-armour with pride and walked out the tent, welcomed by looks of awe of the fighters that returned from the front for a quick pause.

Mhokdor grinned as he ran back to the main tent of Drek’thar, Tékka stood at the entrance to the tent with another warmaster, smirking at him: “Hm, you nearly look like a warrior, just that small stick of yours…”
Mhokdor smirked back at her, not saying a word, and he walked inside, the blind general already looking at him: “I see you are proud of the metal on your body,” he said calmly.
”Proud of the acts that got me the metal, proud to be worthy of the armoursmiths that made this,” said Mhokdor back to his general, Drek’thar stood quiet for a moment, then pulled a scroll from a satchel on his belt, he held it out to Mhokdor, who took the scroll: “You’ve got the battlegroup closest to the front, Centurion Spinesnapper, I expect ground from you, the last few days have been miserable, we’ve lost several groups.”
Mhokdor nodded with a grim look on his face. “And w-,” Drek’thar interrupted Mhokdor “All you need to know is in that scroll, and your group contains what you need.” Mhokdor grunted and bowed before his general, stepping back and turning around, his pitiful polearm, swords and axe seemed nothing compared to this more mighty armour.

Tékka eyed him when he left, he smiled at her and saluted her, before walking on, reading the scroll with his new orders, it would probably take him half the night to even get to the front…

Once Mhokdor had read his orders he grinned to himself, several raiders passing him in opposite direction.
”Centurion Spinesnapper…. Commander of the first raiders and archers… Something tells me I’m going to like this.” He smiled and put the scroll under his belt.

The scent of blood and fire entered his nose the closer he came to the front…


((Yarr, I got awesome pictures, but I need someone to help me to get them here, anyone with photobucket willing to help? (As usual, a site dies on my PC when I try to make/acces an account))

[Nergul]

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[Drevan]

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[Mhokdor Spinesnapper]

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[Drakash]

it r same x2???