Home...

[Trakmar]

The dust from the portal's destruction setteled as Trakmar woke up and and looked around. He couldn't have been out cold long, but long enough to be separated from the others. Seeing the large number of Iron Horde forces at the docks, he guessed his allies must have run for the ships. "Good... seems i' be time t'go". He rose to his feet and coughed, then pulled his two companions on their feet, the wolf Gra'dak and the lynx, Bamak. A broad smile was on Trakmar's face as the seemed to be in good health. They ran the opposite way of the docks, through the flooded Blackrock forge and into the jungle. Little was unfamiliar. The old Orc had spent much time here before, and the memory of the jungle wasn't gone.

He made his way to the coast, then turned west, following the coastline. A few days later, he had come into Gorgrond. The smell of both forest and wasteland alike was a blessing. He made his way up to the land, into the lush jungle. Ravagers and giant wasps stalking the wilds, while the screams of what sounded like tortured orcs filled the air. The old Orc looked around for an familiar signs that could tell him where he was, and tell him which direction is which. Not east, seeing the place was covered with trees. And to add on it, he was ambushed by Orcs! Pale skin and the left hand replaced with crude blades.

"Bah, t'slaves come t'fight?! Come at me, Shattared Hand runts!" yelled the old Orc. A bit overconfidently too, not considering most of these Orcs had likely fought a lifetime in arenas.  And there was three of them. Trakmar raised his axe and turned to the first Orc leaping at him. He gave the Orc a kick to the chest, sendhim him back and landing hard on the ground. Then Bamak and Gra'dak made quick work of him. The two other Orcs leaped at the beasts, killing them quickly in return. "NO! Y'two will pay f' t'a, slaves.!"

Trakmar let out a roar at the two Orcs, then ran at them, striking, trying to cut them down, but they easily evaded his strikes, then made quick strikes on him, making one small gash at a time each in the older, larger Orcs flesh. And the bloodlust started taking effect as well, a feeling he hadn't felt for many years. He struck at the large of the two Shattared Hand Orcs, but the pale orc parried the strike, breaking the axe. Then, Trakmar lunged at the Orc, took hold of him and bit his throat out. Seeing this, the other Orc ran off.

Trakmar looked at the running Orc, then snorted. "Coward". He looked to Gra'dak and Bamak again. Gra'dak was dead, but Bamak seemed alive, though struggling to do so. With a worn sigh, Trakmar took his knife, then knelt down next to the lynx, running his hand through his mane before stabbing the heart, putting the beast out of its suffering. "Hunt well on t' eternal plains, brothers..."

Trakmar raised his head again to look around, then up to the mountain range where he saw familiar spired of volcanic rock. "Frostfire Ridge... Home..."

The old Orc got on his feet, then lifted the two beasts over his shoulders and started walking slowly to the frozen wastes...

[Karak Stormsong]

((Bamak! NOOO!  ))