Storms and Arrows

[Grekthar]

He took in a slow breath as they neared the Dark Portal's ethereal gateway, its blood red hue an ominous portent for the next few hours. Grek'thar held the small stone that little Mira had given to him before he'd left her. His young daughter had been playing with the stones in Grom'gol, her twin brother paddling in the surf nearby under his careful watch. When the time had come for them to leave, she'd pressed one of her playing stones into his hand, a present for him. If only she truly knew what it had meant that day... Earthstorm placed the stone back under his chestplate, hanging from a thread beside the drakes fang from his Om'Riggor. "For the Horde!" he roared beside the others as they charged through the gateway, and straight from desolate wastelands into iron clad warriors and a jungle. His senses reeled for a brief moment from the inter-planatary translocation before he checked for the elemental connection all shaman held. He could still feel the elements of Azeroth through the Portal, as well as sense the ones of this world... although the latter would not answer his call. "Azeroth it is then." he said before unleashing a bolt of lightning into the ranks of the Iron Horde charging up the stairs.

The battle raged on for what seemed like hours as the apparently never-ending tide of orcs and gronn and tanks charged at their lines. Horde and Alliance stood shoulder to shoulder, making the orc nostalgic for the Battle of Mount Hyjal. An arrow flew past his head embedding itself into the eyeslits of an orc in black iron armour that had been about to take his head. "I believe that makes us even Grek'thar from Hyjal." said the arrow's owner as they came to stand beside him. Grek'thar smirked at the sight of the Night Elf and his saber companion. "Takarius, I thought you'd be dead by now. Not out of arrows?" asked the shaman as he buried his fist into another orc. The elf shook his head before loosing another arrow. "Made plenty just for today. Admittedly I'm down to my last quiver." said the night elf, his saber burping and licking its bloody maw. The orc shaman just shook his head in amusement before turning it sharply to the cracking sound of the portal closing. "Well... seems the job is done... the portal is closed. Now all that remains is to fight on and take as many with us." said the bow-elf, Grek'thar frowning at the elfs words before nodding. "Aye."

So the two fought on and on for hours, Grek'thar resorting to using a stolen axe and shield as with the portals closure so too did his connection to Azeroth's elements disappear, and the local ones would not answer his summons. "They just keep coming!" roared the orc as he slammed his axe into the shoulder of another orc, his chest heaving from exertion, his armour in tattered shards, and his body covered in blood and sweat. The Night Elf was similarly marked, except he held on his face a sadistic grin. "Aye that they do. This is a death I can accept... After ten thousand years... perhaps now I can rest. My only regret is dying here and not in Kalimdor... ah well." Takarius smirked before embedding his sword into the neck of an Iron Horde orc. The battle around them ceased as a large blast resounded across the field. All eyes turned to the Portal as it crashed and shattered. Soon cries were coming up to make for the ships.

"Guess that death will have to wait." said the shaman, the bow-elf nodding as both of them began to run for the docks. Each of them split to join their respective factions, a quick nod the only note of farewell between the two. Once aboard Grek'thar quickly found himself a small corner of the ship to drop onto, and fell asleep, his body finally allowed a reprieve. They had accomplished their task... now they had only to survive... assuming the others had as well... the Link was ominously silent...