Negotiation.

[Therak]

((Not 100% pleased with this one, but the idea is there. And I doubt I'll get happy even with more time.
In any case! Enjoy the read!))



Every muscle in his body burned, that pain was only interrupted by small knots of sharper pain, where he had broken off the crossbow bolts that the Kor'kron had hit him with. His breath came in short, ragged gasps and it was all he could do to remain standing.
Behind him was the corpse of his prey, in his hands was the satchel he had been carrying.
Therak hadn't needed more then a short look at the papers to figure out what they had meant. They were in a cipher he had broken before, when he had carried messages occasionally. Messages for the Kor'kron who was now lying in the clearing quickly dissapearing behind Therak, face down in a pool of his own blood.
Five reports. Five spies in the area. Five targets to be dealt with, one way or another. Not to mention the Chieftains other task.

He finally stopped, on the border to Azshara, slumping down against a tree. He dug into a small hollow, and stuffed the satchel in there. There was no way he'd be able to deal with all of it on his own, but in this case. He had friends who'd gladly help him. He quickly scribbled with charcoal on a piece of paper, the key to the cipher, and it went into the satchel aswell.
A dead drop, it'd be acted on within half a day.
Finally, he gave himself the chance to rest, curled up under a tree a bit away from the dead drop, he slept for a few hours, before getting up, and setting about his tasks for the Chieftain.
Getting through the alliance siege of Splintertree wasn't that hard. Neither was getting past the guards, the real challange came from entering the local commanders hut unnoticed.
Therak quickly put a hand across the commanders mouth, silencing any attempts to shout for help.
”Quiet, I'm here to help you, but be quiet, or both of our heads will be decorating the pallisade before the night is over.”
It took a few moments for the commander to stop struggling, before he carefully nodded, studying the thin orc suspiciously.
Therak removed his hand, keeping his voice to a low whisper.
”You have one of Garrosh's spies among your grunts, he's been sending reports out about your so called ”failings” since you're still under siege. There's no reinforcements coming to aid you. He threw those at the walls of the rebellion, and they were cast down, routed and utterly defeated.”
Therak gave his moments a moment to sink in, tossing down several sheets of paper on the cot next to the other orc.
”Here's his latest report, I've made the key to the cipher on the back, feel free to check it.”
The commander spent a few minutes rifling through the papers, his nostrils flaring, and the vein on his temple visibly pulsing.
”And what do -you- suggest I do about this?”
”Simple, remove the spy, and turn to someone who won't throw away the lives of you and your men. Someone who offers a chance at honor, who'll not leave you out to dry because you can not win against impossible odds.”
”I have given my oath to the Horde, and its Warchief! You want me to be an oathbreaker!?”
Realizing he would have to step lightly with this topic, Therak thought a moment before answering.
”An oath goes both ways, swearing loyalty to somone, demands loyalty in return. To not leave you to fend for yourself against unbeatable odds, for no gain. To not throw you to the wolves, as a scape goat for his unwillingness to consider diplomacy. I'm not demanding an answer, I'm making an offer. And giving you the spy, as a sign of good faith.”
Half a horn later, A dozen grunts, and the commander kicked down the door to the barracks, causing a ruckus among the grunts currently sleeping there.
”Search them! Find the spy!”
The shouts echoed through the room, as armed grunts tore bedding, and opened chests, tearing out the contents of their personal chests. Some of them pushing the grunts up against the wall, keeping them under guard.
Therak walked in behind them, tapping and knocking on the bottoms of the emptied chests, before stopping at one, where the knocking gave off a hollow sound.
”A false bottom, I told you so.”
A wet thump, and a head landed on the ground.
”It seems you were right,  I guess we have some discussing to do...”

Three days later, three days mostly spent by a fire, talking until  their voices were hoarse.
”We will give no oaths, until the alliance siege is lifted. Do that, and we'll follow your general when he marches on the gates of Orgrimmar. If he gets that far.”
”Swear your oath, and we'll see what we can do. We already have lines of communication with the alliance, they want the Warchief gone as much as we do.”
The commander sighed, shaking his head.
”Tell your General this. He'll have our oaths, when the siege is lifted, not before.”

[Thrash'Nak]

Well i enjoyed it plenty, good job as always.