Letters from Nazkhur

[Nazkhur]

*The letter seems to have been written in a hurry, the handwriting isn't easy to read at best and there are a couple of tear stains on the parchment*

Kozgugore,

This news is dire and it pains me to read it. The Horde attack was one thing but for Morgeth to be wounded is far worse.

What yer describe makes me think of only one thing, Frost Fever. It is spread by Death Knight Frost runes 'n' can be very nasty, but is a basic disease really. Attack tha muscles, makin' them harder to use 'n' even painful.
As for a cure, me know not. Spreadin' it be one thing, but curin' it another. All me can say is find someone who knows 'bout curin' diseases, 'n' keep Morgeth as warm as yer can. If tha wound is bad it might weakned her enough that it will spread to her heart.

Somethin' needs to be done tha sooner tha better. The rune one the necklace I sent her, make sure she uses it as often as she can, there is a small chance some of the disease will be transfered to me 'n' I'm already dead...sort of.

Hakrim, Nagrand 'n' tha like matter little compared to Morgeth's life 'n' that of yer pup. Me hopes for her go with the spirits.

Makes me feel so stupid 'n' weak that I can't do anythin' to help. Me know that yer strong Kozgugore 'n' that ye will do everythin' yer can to help Morgeth. Now yer need to think only gettin' her well again, never think that death comes, believe in a future together 'n' spirits willin' ye will have it.

Stay strong, if not for yerself, for Morgeth.

Nazkhur

[Nazkhur]

((Little short story.))

The Orc Death Knight snorted as she awoke from her trance and surveyed her surroundings. The cave that made up her shelter hadn’t changed since resting and looking out the archway that formed the entrance the odd flake of snow was drifting by the landscape of Dun Morogh. Something had made Nazkhur’s rest uneasy; maybe it was being in the cave that she had suffered in at the hands of her mate over those long years after the Second War.

With a grunt she got to her feet and lifted her polearm from the ground, leaning on it slightly being pulling herself up to her full height. The snow had stopped as soon as it had started, but in the distance something else was moving and getting closer. It was the familiar sight of her miniwing; no doubt her faithful bird was bringing news from Morgeth about the pup she carried.

As the bird drew closer, Nazkhur extended her left arm and watched as her messenger landed gracefully upon it. Dropping her polearm to the floor the undead Orc grabbed the piece of parchment from the miniwing’s leg, with a smile. These letters always brought amusing news, even in these dire times. Settling down on the floor of the cave again, Nazkhur opened the letter.

Her eyes darted from word to word, the smile that had been on her face quickly turned to angry then a frown. The news was worse than any she had had for a long time, the Alliance burning and looting Horde settlements was one thing, but for Morgeth to be wounded and suffering pained Nazkhur to read.

“Frost Fever, it must be.” She mumbled to herself as she continued to read before crumpling up the letter in her fist. A single tear rolled from her glowing eyes and her thoughts raced. “Why did it have to be Morgeth? Of all the tribe, why her?” Knowing full well that all she could do was write all she knew of diseases Death Knight’s used, she grabbed a piece of parchment from the pouch on her belt, and removed the gauntlet from her right hand.

Slicing the tip of her finger against the blade of her polearm, the Orc began to write as much as she could as fast as she could. Even as emotionless as Nazkhur was, she couldn’t stop the feelings of guilt. Guilt that she felt at having not been there to protect Morgeth. Finishing the letter quickly she rolled it up and wrapped it around the miniwing’s leg before sending the bird away.

“Me might be dead, but if tha spirits are listenin’, protect Morgeth ‘n’ her pup. Give them tha strength to get through this.” The Orc muttered as she once again picked up her polearm.
“Blood for blood.” As the words rolled from her lips, Nazkhur let out a roar. “Now, to should them Alliance what a poundin’ is!”

With that the Death Knight charged from the cave in blind fury and in the direction of Dwarven outpost that lay in the valley below.

[Morgeth]

It's a quiet night in Garadar, as far as quiet goes in a place like this. Far away, a goblin announces that Morgor has again had his ass beaten to a pulp by some random adventurer or the likes. Morgeth snorts quietly and drags a hand over her green features, before taking a pen and scribbling a delayed response. She spares the nearby doll a glance, and a smile slowly curls up around her tusks.

Throm'ka, Nazkhur.
I am glad to be able to write this to you, and with that I hope that you will now know that I am well. Your letter, together with Kozgugore's swift actions and Bugor's healing, saved me from the fever. Prior to that my wounds were treated by different shamans, and a thief called Pest stitched me up as well.

I am lucky to have such a family as this, who have shown me what proper care be like. The pup be fine as well, and seems as unphazed by all this as a kicking child can get. I be still abit tired and such, but I reckon that be just me being lazy, and nothing else.

Grom-damned, I wish I could see you and tell you how thankful I be. We have ventured over to collect your friend now. Brought him to Stonard first and just yesterday through the portal as well. Us red blades went from Shattrath to Garadar, where I know we will stay for at least a couple of moons.

Tomorrow a pyre will be held for the orc, and he will rest again with his ancestors. The doll you sent is perfect, my sister. You would make for a fine mother, to say the least. There be enough honour in you for at least ten pups.

There will be a tournament of sorts happening here soon. Gruulg seems eager enough.  I think the orc might just crawl out of his plated pants in the excitement of it all. Greggar will have to defend his title, I reckon. I am not sure if I am to participate, Greggar seems to think it might be harmful to the pup.

Norviskrall still acts and sticks to being a wolf, although a rather daft wolf.. if you ask me. I didn't mean for this to become a lengthy letter, as I simply wanted to let you know that I be recovered and fine. As for your neck-piece, you have my thanks, but to give you pain? Do not think me elfish weak now, but I would not want that.

But how are you, Nazkhur? I hope that everything is well, and that your strength still runs strong. We will need it, be there a war or not.

Fight well, my sister

    Morgeth


((Loved the story. Heartwarming!))

[Nazkhur]

Throm'ka Morgeth,

News of yer recovery has been the best me have heard in a long time 'n' me is glad that ye 'n' yer pup are well. There is no need to give me thanks, me did what me could, same as any Orc in tha tribe would have.

As hard as it is, me thanks goes to Bugor 'n' not just for the soap. If the worst had happened me would hate to think how Koz would be. Readin' the letter he sent me has to be the only time he's shown any emotion other than grumpy 'n' angry. Me can see what so many She-Orcs see in him. He might be like many Orcs in making strong 'n' powerful actions, but still has a heart as well.

The tribe has me thanks for all they have done for Hakrim, I'm sure the Mag'har will be thankful from such a gesture from once daemon cursed Orcs. Every Orc who fights to keep our kin free deserves the honour ye have shown Hakrim. Me hope he will be proud to be among his ancestors, he died in battle even if it was again the elements.

The doll was made when I still hoped to be a mother. Me Blood-Sister would mock me for wastin' me time on such things, but me glad that at least a mother who will fill her pup's heart with honour 'n' pride has it now. Even if me could of have pups, me wouldn't want ten of them. To do it once would be enough for me, me not fancy of draggin' round the weight that ye are doin' now more than that.

Me have a strange feelin' 'bout the tournment. Me think that Bugor will win, just so him can show off to me that him is Blademaster 'n' me only a Nag'Ogar. Surprises me that ye would even want to fight in it, not like ye 'n' tha pup will make a small target for them to hit.

Me is well, in body at least. Been havin' some strange dreams when in me trance. Visions from back in the First War, when we destroyed Northshire. Me didn't do any fightin' there, but me saw somethin'. In the tower, a figure in blue robes with a hood 'n' wings. It was there one moment 'n' gone the next.

This blue figure has appeared the last few night with a map of Lordaeron that burns till only the northern reaches are left 'n' some village called Valdmar. Figure looks like a Val'kyr a little, maybe this trap by scourge, maybe not. Either way, me is goin' to find out what is at that village.

As for the necklace, don't think of it as me thinkin' ye weak. Pain is one of tha few things me can still feel, reminds me what it was to be alive. Me know that me sister isn't weak 'n' me hope that one day when me return that I swear a blood oath 'n' count ye as me Blood-Sister.

Stay strong, safe 'n' poundin'

Nazkhur

*As she sends her miniwing away with the letter, Naz returns to plaiting a beard that once belong to a dwarf so that she can use it as a weapon grip.*

[Nazkhur]

(( Its story time. As well as the letters I'm going to do a short mini series here. First part is out now.))

After riding for three nights and avoiding the ever watchful Alliance, Nazkhur reaches the Eastern Plaguelands. Stopping a little south of Northpass Tower, the Orc leans back in the saddle and pulls a map from the bag that hangs from Deathowl’s harness. As she checks the map, the large grey wolf lets out a long yawn and stretches making his rider drop the map and nearly fall from the saddle. Quickly grabbing the reins the Death Knight regains her balance and lets out a sharp growl at her wolf. Looking around for the map, she sees it in a puddle just as the ink start to run.

“Grrrrrom-damn it!” Nazkhur grumbles between her clenched teeth. Her eyes shift to the mountains above the Quel’Lithien Lodge in hope of spotting a way through them and into Northern Lordaeron. Pulling sharply on Deathowl’s reins the pair set off up the road again.

An hour passes before Nazkhur finds a path through the mountains. Going over the range she sees Northern Lordaeron for the first time. As she guessed the land is plagued, but looks more like the Western Plaguelands or maybe even Silverpine than the mushroom filled Eastern Plaguelands. Much of the wildlife was diseased and Wild Gnolls and Forest Trolls stalked the land. As the Orc rode on she picked up signs that the Humans still had soldiers here, or did have, the presents of the Scourge was still around.

Although her map had gone the Human’s signposts made it easy to get her bearings. Valdmar lay to the North East and dawn was approaching. Nazkhur could travel in the day, but she knew full well that both the Forest Trolls and Humans would be more alert. Moving off the road and into the woodlands the Orc found a small clearing and gave Deathowl a chance to rest. Being dead had one great advantage that she had found, sleep or rather no need for it. Nazkhur could survive only with an hour in a trance. This was more out of vanity than need, as the trance helped prevent her from decaying.

As Deathowl slept, she sat beside him and leaned back against her soft fur before closing her eyes. They hadn’t been closed that long before her ears started to twitch as they caught the sound of movement, then her nose got the scent. “Troll Flesh.” The words ran through her mind. Nazkhur remained without a movement and with her eyes closed as she heard them getting closer. She guessed that there were four of them, three in front of her and one behind, all at the edge of the clearing.

She could hear them muttering to each other in there native tongue before one called out “I got axe for you greeny skin!” With that Nazkhur opened her eyes and lifted her halberd from her lap, just in time to parry the axe away and into a near by tree trunk. The Trolls in front of the Orc charged, throwing axes and spears at her as they yelled there gibberish language.

Without much effort the Death Knight dodged and parried away the thrown weapons before the first Troll reached her. Only with small one-handed weapons they had little chance against her. With a thrust, Nazkhur impaled the first Troll with the spike on top of her halberd. Withdrawing it almost as fast as it went in the dead Troll dropped to the ground. The other two had taken advantage of their fallen friend and had got in close to their Orcish foe. The Troll to her right swung his first axe which bounced off the thick plate shoulder armour, but the second axe found its mark as her swung it into her side. The axe bit through her armour and into her flesh, leaving a small trickle of blood under it as it remained in her side. In pain Nazkhur kicked the Troll aside before turning to the other Troll and slicing through his belly with a swing from her axe blade.

Looking over her shoulder is sees the Troll getting to his feet before throwing his remaining axe at the Orc, which sails past her helm. “Some Trolls never learn.” She muttered under her helm and with a grin throws a death coil spell back at the Troll that screams in pain before dropping to the grass dead.

As he falls to the ground, Naz thinks and the suddenly remembers the fourth Troll that was behind her. Turning round she see him as he leaps through the air with axe above his head. Knowing there’s no time to stop the blow, she prepares to take it as the Troll swings his axe down. Moments before the impact, Deathowl wakes and grabs the Troll’s foot in his vice-like jaw and pulls the Troll out the air. Stunned, the Troll drops his axe as he hits the ground and is pounces on by the wolf. Nazkhur ignores the cried of pain from the Troll as he is mauled by Deathowl and pull the axe from her side. As the axe comes away the blood runs out faster from the wound. The pain that she feels only serves to remind her of what it was to be alive, but with no plans to die yet, she touches one of her blood runes and the wounded heals it self.

By now Deathowl has grown bored and killed the Troll, before lying back down and licking the blood from his muzzle and paws. Nazkhur looks at the hole left by the axe in her armour and tabard. “Me should of stayed in Nagrand with the tribe.” She grumbles before settling down against Deathowl again.

[Morgeth]

((I love the story, it draws you in. On the downside it makes me miss Nazkhur even more. Come baAack!))

[Nazkhur]

((I'm working on coming back its a long process. *shakes fist in rage* Heres the next part for you, enjoy.))

As sunset approaches Nazkhur prepares to continue her journey. Leaning on her halberd she turns to Deathowl, who still lies with his head in the long grass. “Me will go on alone.” The Orc mutters to her mount. The wolf remains in the grass but his ear twitch and he starts to expose his teeth. “Go home.” She continues and is met by a sharp snarl from Deathowl, but this is quickly silenced with a louder snarl of her own that makes him back down.

Finally the last glimpse of sunlight fades behind the horizon and Nazkhur and Deathowl go there separate ways, even if both seem very reluctant to leave the other the Orc knows that she would rather risk just she own life than both of theirs.

Creeping through the Forest as best as she can in her heavy armour, Naz catches the scent and sound of Humans with their relentless grumbling, something that only serves to remind her of her grumpy Chieftain and the rest of the Tribe, especially the memory of Morgeth. Shaking her head the Orc banishes the thought to the back of her mind as she tries to focus on the task ahead.

The nights travel goes better than hoped and by first light, Nazkhur has reached the roadside of the steep path that leads up to Valdmar Village that sits onto of a small cliff, but overlooked by another. Moving up the roadway, the Orc notices a small ledge in the cliffs that overlook the Village. Not foolish to charge straight, Naz tries her halbard to her back and scrambles up the cliff before settling down on the ledge and watching the Village. Valdmar is made up of nothing but two rows of houses either side of a square with a chapel at the far end, almost the same as Tarren Mill, but in better condition than it is now.

Hours pass and little seems to happen in the Village other than the normal movements of people doing their jobs. Then something catches her eye, “That can’t be, could it?” Nazkhur mumbles to herself as she looks at one of the Villagers. Turning her fall attention towards the male she something that makes her jaw drop open, “An Orc.” Sure enough in the Village below her an Orc male works freely alongside Humans, Elves and Half Elves.

Before she has time to think on this she is distracted by a patrol marching up the road towards the Village. The patrol is made up of nothing but ten footmen and one mounted Knight, these would be more of a challenge if not for their equipment. Most of their weapons and armour can be dated to late Second War, early Third War usage. Nazkhur smirks to herself about how easy it would be to slice through that armour if they challenged her.

From her vantage point the Orc watches as the patrol reaches the edge of the Village. The Villagers stop their work and look at the soldiers and for a tense moment nothing is said. Not until a figure appears from the chapel, she seems the only one who is battle ready, carrying a sword in one hand and shield in the other. As the figure moves closer to the patrol, Nazkhur sees her clearer. “Hmm a She-Half-Elf, me was thinkin’ it was somethin’ dangerous then.” She grumbles to herself.

The Knight takes a scroll from his saddlebag and unrolls it before yelling out what it says in a booming voice. “Citizens of Valdmar, be it now known that the individual called Elisnna Crowe and those under her protection, for association with the most vile and corrupt Horde and their traitorous actions towards the Alliance and her citizens, shall be striped all land, wealth, holdings and known hereafter as traitors to the Alliance! They shall forfeit the right to citizenship in the Alliance! Indeed they will be considered enemies of all citizens of Lordaeron and all free Humans! Let no good people of this land show them hospitality, mercy or sanctuary!”

Unfortunately for Nazkhur her Common isn’t great and most of the rambling the Knight says is missed, but it clearly isn’t good news. As the Knight rolls the scroll up her nods at the footmen who rush forward and disarm Elisnna and restrain her as the other Villagers have their hands bound and pushed onto their knees. With the Villagers restrained the soldiers draw their swords and place the point on the back of the neck of each Village, but Elisnna. Nazkhur knows full well what is about to happen and starts to make her way down the cliff as the Knight calls out, “For the Alliance” and the footmen execute each Villagers, from the young to the old, from Human to Orc.

[Norv]

(( Interesting! Wants more! ))

[Nazkhur]

((You demand, I supply. I must have much energy at the moment, but anyway, heres part three.))

As the last body drops to the cobbled square, the footmen sheath their swords and wait in silence for orders. The only sounds that can be heard are the clinch of Elisnna’s shackles and the odd mumble from the Knights horse. Unknown to them Nazkhur is sneaking closer and has now reached the road and looks back up to where the Valdmar stands.

The Knight looks over the senseless slaughter before turning his attention to one of the footmen, “This Village has nothing of worth, burn it.” The footman salutes the Knight, “Aye Sir Arius.” With that the footman turns to his comrades and yells “Burn it!” Before he has even finished yelling, the other footmen are on the move and hurrying to light their torches from fires and shovels before throwing them onto the thatched roves and throw the windows of the chapel.

Slowly the flames start to spread and as the soldiers hurry to destroy the Village, Sir Arius watches on as Elisnna stands in the square and prays. However behind the mounted Human is something he wasn’t prepared for. Nazkhur stands with her halberd in her hands and ready to fight. Looking calm on the outside, shouldn’t be fooled by the pure rage that wells in her heart.

“Lok’tar Ogar!” the Orc screams out in the direction of Valdmar. Arius nears in his saddle and looks at the lone Orc before a small grin appears upon his weathered face. “Seems the Horde has come to save you.” He says to the Half Elf with a slight chuckle before pulling down the visor of his helm and turning his horse around and charging towards Nazkhur with sword drawn and shield up.

Nazkhur on the other hand doesn’t move other than tapping the base of her halberd into the ground. As the Knight gallops closer, screaming his own battle-cry, the Orc reaches. With a shift of her hand a death grip spell flies from her palm and the Human is yanked from his mount and lands with a satisfying thud on the ground as he falls backwards on his back a few paces from his foe. His loyal mount turns out to not be as loyal as it stops before galloping its way back up the slope towards the burning Valdmar.

Arius lies there for the moment, shocked and stunned by what just happened. Nazkhur waits for him to struggle to his feet and put up his defence again. Both valiantly and foolishly the Knight stands there preparing for the Death Knight to strike and yet Nazkhur stands there and watches as her foe moves slightly and makes the odd faint attack. As soon as he starts to wonder if she will strike, Naz does. Taking her halberd in both hands and brings the axe blade down in a smooth motion. The Knights training pays off and he lifts his shield in time to take the blow, however his equipment lets him down. The shield shatters under the force of the blow and knocks him back to the ground.

This time the Arius doesn’t lie down for more than a few moments before taking his sword in both hands and swinging at the Orc, but she has already stepped back out of range and the blade slices through nothing but the air. Before he can recover from that swing Nazkhur pushes her attack again. Upending her Halberd she uses the chain and hook to grapple onto his armour around the groin before levering him over her head and sending crashing to the ground face first.

Shaken by this Arius gets to his feet once more and removes his helm to expose his blooded face from where it collided with the inside of his helm. Full of rage and hate he curses at Nazkhur “Damn you green skins, you should all be slaughtered like the corrupt dogs you are.” Blinded by his own hatred he charges at the Orc, forcing her to go onto the defensive and parry the relentless blows that he rains down on her before their weapons become locked together.
Nazkhur manages the push Arius away and form enough of a gap between the two that she can swing her halberd. Arius raises his weapon above his head to strike but is met by a horizontal swing from the Orc that slices cleanly through his left arm near the shoulder and continues through his neck before the blade imbeds itself in the armour of his right arm. As the Knights lifeless body falls to the ground, Nazkhur turns her attention back to Valdmar.

By now the Village is a ball of flames and smoke. In the distance she can see the footmen abandoning their prisoner and scrambling down the cliff that the Village sits upon rather than face the Orc. Nazkhur lets out a small sigh before returning the halberd to her back and walking up the slope to where Elisnna still stands and prays. As she gets closer, the Death Knight offers a greeting; “Throm’ka Elfling” The Half Elf slowly opens her eyes and looks up at the Orc. “Throm’ka, may the Holy Light bless you.” Answer Elisnna in clear Orcish. This alone was more than enough to surprise Nazkhur but her attention shifts to the Village as one of the buildings collapses. Without a word grabs the chain between the Elf’s shackles and leads her down the slope and into the Forest. Naz is surprised that her ‘companion’ doesn’t complain about this treatment, but then remembers how strange Elves can be.

[Nazkhur]

((If this isn't getting complex already its just about to get worse Just a short part before I go to work to make you start to think. I should of warned people at the start that this might give the side effect of brain ache, but that might be just for me.))

A short distance from the burning Valdmar Nazkhur decides to stop near a small stream that winds its way through the forest. Surprised by the sudden stop the Half Elf looks towards the Orc. “Why have we stopped? Are you afraid of water?” she questions in mocking tone. Not willing to raise to the bait the Death Knight says nothing at first until answering in a solemn tone “Drownin’ is proven to stop lyin’.”

Before the Elf can work out what has been said, Nazkhur turns and knocks her to the ground and pulls her to the bank of the stream. “Now ye might not live through this but it’s a chance me willing to take.” Continues the Orc before forcing Elisnna’s head under water for a few second before letting her come back to the surface. Coughing and spluttering the Elf is clearly worried “What is it that you want?!” she calls out at her captor. “Me want to know why me is here. See, me has had this dream of a winged figure in blue that has been showin’ me maps of yer Village.” mumbles Naz into the Elf’s long ear. Elisnna says nothing for the moment but as her face is forced closer to the water again by the Orc she suddenly becomes more talkative. “Wait!..Wait, please. I know what it is?” Nazkhur relaxes her pressure on Elisnna’s head and wait for her to continue.

After a small sigh of relief she continues. “What you saw was a Hope. Least that is what I believe.” Nazkhur lets go of the Half Elf and allows her to sit up. “What is a Hope?” questions the Orc as she tries to make sense of what she knows. Elisnna wipes the water droplets from her face with her arm and looks up at the Orc that still towers over her, even when sitting. “Hopes are beings of the Light. They guide those of faith along a path of righteousness.” States the Elf in hope that it is enough to prevent another spell in the steam. The Orc turns to face her, but all she can see is a dark figure with glowing blue eyes. “I am far from righteous.” Nazkhur states coldly before standing and thinking some more.

“Me saw one of these, Hopes. At Northshire, when we destroyed it in the First War.” Continues Naz and is met by a small gasp by Elisnna, “Northshire?!” The Orc shifts her full attention back to the Half Elf but before she continue explaining to the Elf she butts in. “My father was killed at that battle, well mortally wounded and now a vision of that battle guides you to me, to save me. This is no doubt the work of the Holy Light.” Says Elisnna with a small amount of glee in her voice, but Nazkhur is less than convinced by this idea.

[Nazkhur]

((New part, now things might start making more sense.))

As Elisnna starts to mutter her thanks to the Light, Nazkhur gently raises herself up to her full height before suddenly seizing the Half Elf by the throat and lifting her cleanly from the ground and holding her up close to the Orcs face. “Ye will listen to me ‘n’ ye will listen good. Me have more important things to do than save yer worthless hide.” Hisses Nazkhur at the Elf, who is already starting to tremble with fear. “Me saved ye at Valdmar, which is more than ye did for the Orc there or the others.” She continues with a stern look in her eyes.

For the moment the Half Elf hangs there as she struggles to think of anything that she can see that won’t encourage the Death Knight to crush her neck. Finally and powered by a pure desire to survive, Elisnna moves her face closer to Naz’s and goes to kiss her. As her lips brush against the Orcs, Nazkhur stretches her arm moving the Elf a full arms length away from her face. “Grom-damn Elves!” the Orc snarls before dropping Elisnna to the ground. The Half Elf hits the ground with a thud and rubs her neck where the gauntlet had gripped her. Looking up she watches as the Death Knight freezes her way across the stream and into the trees the other side.

Alone once again the Orc storms through trees before coming to a halt and slamming her fist into the trunk of one. “Me could be back in Nagrand now, with the tribe, with Morgeth, but no me is in this rotten stinkin’ Human land saving grom-damn flowerbloods.” Grumbles Nazkhur before spitting and slumping down at the base of the tree and laying her halberd across her lap and going into her trance.

Back at the stream, Elisnna wonders what to do. She is unarmed, alone and without food or shelter. The feeling of guilt for what happened at the Village spreads through her mind. With no other plan and fully prepared to answer for her crimes she starts to wander off through the forest in hope of finding an Alliance patrol.

Deep in her trance, Naz rests and watches as she sees past visions of Nagrand and times with the Red Blade at places like Razor Hill and Hammerfall. These dreams at least could still give her a small measure of happiness if nothing else. Unfortunately it wasn’t long before these dreams would be disturbed by an unwelcome guest. The vision of the Hope appeared in her mind. “You have failed in your duty.” It stated in a ghostly voice. “How can you ever hope to protect Morgeth and her bloodline if you can’t even protect a Half Elf?” the voice questioned. The Orc felt her mind and body ache and wishes she could open her eyes but found she was unable. The Hope drew closer and pointed towards her, “You will protect this servant of goodness as far as the ruins of Silvermoon and you might be ready then to carry out your own duty.” With these words filling in her mind Nazkhur opened her eyes at least. It was night already but she now burned with a desire to prove herself. She didn’t really care to whose benefit it was, but no one or thing was going to say she wasn’t ready to protect Morgeth.

[Morgeth]

((*sniff* Damned.. Nazkhur *mumbles and trods off*))

[Bugor]

(( Bollocks! I've had flu and now I have to catch up! You'll have another crappy reply from Bugor as soon as I catch up reading! ))

[Nazkhur]

((aww I'm making Morgeth unhappy, now I feel guilty.  . Welcome back Bugor, getting reading and want to know that the effort is worth it. oh next part.))

Getting to her feet and gripping her halberd in hand Nazkhur takes a deep breath of the cold night air. The scent of Forest Trolls is strong but the faint scent of Humans can be picked up and coming from the East along the route of the stream. With no other plan to track down her stray Elf, the Orc sets off through the trees. She only travels a short distance before starting to hear the voices of Humans, doing their normal grumbling.

Sneaking up on the camp, the Death Knight peered through a bush. The Humans were gathered around a small campfire on the roadside. The camp was made up of a couple of tents and hanging from one of the thick branches of a tree, a cage. Even with the poor light that the fire gave out, the Orc could pick up the shape of her missing Elf. She could have probably have climbed the tree and removed Elisnna before the five Humans that guarded noticed, but the torment and rage that the Hope had spread into her mind blinded her judgement and fed the will to show the true destructive power that she had.

As the guards sat around the fire, Nazkhur struck out. The ground beneath the Humans started to corrupt and cause their very flesh decay. Screaming in pain and horror already they watched as the Death Knight appeared from the bushes and drove the spike of her halberd through the firsts back. As the body fell to the ground it didn’t stay dormant for long. With a blast of dark energy from Naz’s hand it rose up again as her willing servant. The ghoul pounced at his once comrade and bite into his exposed neck and knocked him to the ground as the Orc continued to push her own attack. Bringing her halberd round and with the blood runes hungry for the strike, it ripped cleanly into the guard’s chest.

Not watching where the guard’s body drops the Death Knight prepares for her next attack as the blood worms wriggle from under her shoulder armour and feast on the corpse. Shaking with fear the Human tries to land a blow on the undead Orc, but before he can he is hit by an icy touch and drops to his knees as Frost Fever spread through his body. Looking across the fire, Nazkhur sees her ghoul get cut down the remaining soldier as the undead sits upon its kill. Now the Human turns always the Orc, but as he gets closer Naz uses her pestilence to spread the Fever to him.

The Death Knight watches as the Humans suffer helplessly with their diseases but she is surprised to see the Half Elf stand up in her cage and cleanse them. Angered by this, Nazkhur doesn’t allow them recover enough to fight back and hatches them to pieces. Pulling her blood stained halberd from the last guard’s face she looks back at the cage and notice its empty. Looking round she spots Elisnna, but as her eyes met the Elves she is hit by a blast of Holy Light and knocked off her feet.

Swearing and cursing underneath her helm, the Orc scrambles to her feet and prepares to take her aggression out on the Elf, but before she can close the distance between them and strike the Death Knight is hit by a judgement spell. Taking most of the blow on her weapon it does little than halt her advance. “Ye Grom-damn Light suckin’ flowerblood. Me thought Bugor was a bucket’ead, but ye are worse!”  shouts Naz. For a brief moment the Elisnna thinks, “Whos Bugor?” she asked, but this break in focus gives Nazkhur enough time to get closer. The Death Knight is just about to bring her halberd down in a smooth curve, but the vision of the Hope appears into mind and she stops mind way, giving the Half Elf enough time to summon a Hammer of Wrath and hurl it into the Orc’s chest.

The blow spends Naz flying backwards and skidding across the ground and destroying the fire as she collides with it. With body racked with pain as the Light follows through it, the Death Knight changes tactics. The Orc summons a Death Gate and Elisnna relaxes as she thinks that her foe is fleeing, but she is wrong. Using the remaining strength she has Nazkhur uses her Death Grip to drag the Half Elf to her before pulling her through the Death Gate.

[Claws]

(( ********! I've had flu and now I have to catch up! You'll have another ****** reply from Bugor as soon as I catch up reading! ))

Ah not really the way to describe your feelings on a topic that was running very nicely.