Makaroth's Musings

[Azolg]

Blood Drinking

~A younger, more foolish Makaroth~

Stonard. A hot, humid and grim place to be by all accounts. Yet it served as the Tribes next step unto the coming conflict, and Makaroth Felscream was ready. Grunting softly to himself he leaned aginst the tree as his gaze flickered across the sleeping Orcs in the camp; some resting on rolled up bedrolls, some bedrolls thrown over him. A smile lifted to his lips as his gaze turned to Bloodpaw, and Orc he considered a friend already. His promises of slaying Makaroth if he ever betrayed the Tribe had a subtle undertone; It was a plea to stay true on the path Felscream had started treading. His eyes closed as sleep began to take ov;-...

“Step up.” Gul'dan murmured.

A much younger Makaroth closed the gap between the gaggle of Orcs and the first warlock. Ahead of him was a cauldron filled with the vile green blood that they were there to consume. His brown eyes locked with Gul'dans red ones â€" The warlocks visage was terrifying to behold and utterly alien. Yet Makaroths heart thirsted for power unlimited.

“Drink.” Gul'dan murmured, forcing the cup into the childs hands.

Makaroth's whole body trembled as his gaze looked down to the makeshift wooden cup. The vile green liquid seemed to steam, filling his nostrils with an overpowering yet addicting smell. He knew even then that this would destroy his body, and yet at a tender young age â€" Makaroth thrust the cup to his lips and drank heavily.

The effect was instantaneous. He fell to his knees, gagging and squirming on the floor as his fingers clawed in the mud. A red haze descended across his gaze and he could only feel his skin crawling as the demon blood tarnished it forever. The chanting behind him was deafening as the Orcs egged him on. He could feel the eyes of Gul'dan boring into the back of him as he struggled on the floor in agony.

Soon, it passed, and Makaroth rose to his feet in defiance of the blood. A howling roar escaped from his lips as his body burned with power. Lost in the lust of it all, he turned to an Orc he'd despised since a young child. His hands twisted into cruel shapes, green fel magic forming around them, before the formed into one fireball that he launched at the Orc. The group seemed to back away instantaneously as the fireball consumed the Orc â€" Leaving nothing but blackened bones in his wake. Makaroth's red eyes settled on the bones as a primal roar escaped his lips once more.

“THIS. THIS IS THE POWER OF GUL'DANS GIFTS. STEP UP AND DRINK, CLAIM YOUR DESTINY. TAKE THIS POWER FOR YOUR OWN.” Makaroth bellowed at the crowd, raising his hands to the sky at his new found abilities. The chanting continued as the next volunteer stepped up ready to take his pri;-...

Makaroth jerked awake screaming at the memory. After a brief moment he quietened his voice, staring around the camp to ensure he'd woken no Orc. Panting and wiping sweat from his brow, he leaned against the tree once more. Sleep wouldn't come easy again, as the memory was fresh in his mind once more. A never-ending loop of terrible memories.

[Azolg]

Cold Nights

The nights in Tanaan were cold these days, despite the roaring felfire that surged through the land. While the other Tribe members rested, hunted or shared lustful nights in the skins together; Makaroth simply could not sleep. His chest raged with pain as it did most nights these days and he knelt beside one of the only remaining pools of water â€" Still and calm in the night sky. Grunting he pulled his shirt and bandages off with frantic desperation to stare at the horrific amalgamation that was his chest.

Sickly fel green veins bulged against his skin as they rippled across all the way to his arms and up to his neck. They seemed to pulse every few seconds as his corrupted blood surged its way around his body, carrying the weakened oxygen that grew ever weaker each day. The source of the thick veins lay In the middle of his chest where his breastbone lay; a thick green-pinkish shard pulsed with a green hue every few seconds as it pumped the blood around his body. A lifetime of Fel usage had taken its effect on his body and now it seemed his very organs were failing. Heart, lungs and even his stomach had been weakened drastically by the effects of his dark dealings and the shard itself served as a life-support mechanism. Infused by Fel that pumped his heart and manually drove his lungs when they stopped working, Without it, he'd have died from heart failure many years ago.

The one thing that is killing me is the one thing that is keeping me alive.

Grunting he recalled the impassive remarks from several of his fellow Orcs. “You should give up the Fel. The path does you know good.” Spitting in the lake the ripples echoed across it in an accusing manner. They couldn't understand, they'd never been so addicted to it for so long. Of course he'd like to give up Fel â€" Learn the ways of the Shaman. But to do so would mean his death, and what use is he to anyone then?

“Any of you lot got a spare heart or lungs about? Fel why don't you just magic one out of thin air!” Makaroth cried aloud in annoyance, falling onto all fours as his breathing struggled again. The surge of fel forced his lungs into action and every breath was a painful one as the lungs struggled under the pressure of the magic. He coughed fitfully on the floor and then collapsed in a heap as he waited for the pain to pass.

It's getting worse, everytime.

The cold night dragged ever on.

[Azolg]

The Quest

It is within ourselves to change our fate, lest we fall into the ever suffering holds of madness.

A flickering flame offered the only light within the dank muddy cave. Four weeks it had been, four weeks inside this dark hole of madness as he waited and waited for an answer. His eyes were gaunt and dark patches had welled up beneath them from the gloom of the cave. Casting a gaze once more across the room he spied the remains of his meal on the floor, a tiny beast-like creature he'd hunted three days ago; the only time he'd been allowed to leave the cave during his hibernation. Perhaps he'd never heard the voices at all â€" perhaps he'd simply lost his mind and imagined the voices of the Spirits? He was so desperate to hear them after all â€" maybe he'd simply dreamt them up. Shuffling towards the tiny bones he picked one up and inspected it; before a loud voice in his mind made him drop the bone.

“You haven't gone mad Makaroth. Half-mad maybe, but that is no bad thing.”

His wild eyes flickered around, searching for a body for the voice â€" None offered itself to meet his gaze. “W- .. Spirit-wolf: Is that you?!” He cried out as his voice echoed and bounced off the cave, threatening to deafen him.

The boulder blocking the entrance shifted ever so slightly, yet a shimmering visage simply strolled through it as though it didn't exist. The Spirit-wolf glowed in a blinding light as it sat by the fire â€" The ghost like eyes settled firmly on Makaroths gaunt and fragile body.

“You have done as asked. You withdrew yourself within this cave for the four week period. You returned every time after hunting and you have managed to separate yourself from the Tribe to prove you are willing to give up -anything-. Most importantly, you have abstained from Fel magic's ever since your organs were healed. We took great risk in trusting you Makaroth â€" So far we are glad we haven't been wronged.” The Spirit-wolf once more spoke directly into his mind, sizing him up with those strong eyes.

Makaroth fell to all fours, his head bowed low as he squeezed his eyes shut. “Honourable Spirits, words fail me when I express my gratitude for what you have done. This has been the most painful experience of my life.” He murmured, breathing slowly as he knew what was coming. His trial was over, the next stage would begin.

“You have done well. You've earned a portion of respect â€" Yet you have far to go before your repentance is complete. It is time for you to return to the fold of you Tribe, rejoice with your fellow Orcs and mingle once more with them.”

Makaroth's eyes widened and he looked up to lock gazes with the Spirit-wolf “I .. I can l-leave? Return home?” He spluttered, unable to hide the joy.

“Yes. You have complied with our demands. Within time we will contact you once again to inform you of the next part of your repentance. For now, go and enjoy the Tribe. They are your family now.” The Spirit-wolf's eyes narrowed briefly as it turned to leave.

“Spirits .. A question, please.” Makaroth murmured.

“Ask.”

A pause, before he spoke quietly. “Why, did you agree to do this? Why am I worth saving?” The desperation and self-doubt was seared into his voice, like a child quivering in fear.

The Wolf paused it's walk a moment, speaking into the Orcs mind once more. “We could see the fear in your soul. The regret in your slouch. The pain in your heart. Our bargains are harsh, but they are worth the risk. We believe you have it in you to repent.”

Makaroth closed his eyes once more as the Spirits left him in the dark. “Thank you.” He murmred.

The fire flickered out of existence, plunging him into darkness. Seconds later, the sound of heavy grating could be heard coming from the entrance. The boulder that blocked his path heaved to one side. The daylight was blinding.

[Azolg]

Musings

It is only in the darkness, that we truly discover what we are capable of. What we truly desire. How far we will go. Only in the dark do we know who we are.

The night had long turned to darkness, yet his eyes simply would not close. Would not allow himself to surrender to sleep; not on this night. The Zeppelin chugged across the ocean to their soon to arrive destination of the frozen peaks of Northrend, occasionally a bang would occur from the somewhat average looking ship which would awaken a few Orcs to sounds of annoyed grunts. A chuckle escaped Makaroths lips as one of the mentioned bangs ricocheted around the gully of the ship â€" Said grunts escaping his fellow Tribesorcs. Staring out from the underbelly of the ship his eyes picked out the waves that rippled in the mild wind. Grasping a hand on the iron support of the Zeppelin he closed his eyes briefly as he thought back over the last month since he'd returned to the Tribe, a musing over his experiences and life since then.

The first thought that filled his minds eye was a face; young, beautiful and one that he certainly did not deserve to call one whom he adored. Vanara's blue eyes twinkled and a course smile tugged at her lips â€" The snakebite piercings reflecting in the moonlight. Opening his eyes he found his cheeks strained as he grinned widely, turning to the spot where she lay nearby. Curled up on the floor the tiny she-orc had finally found sleep through her air sickness.

She was his heart and soul; his vicious tigress. They'd been courting just under a month and yet he'd come to care for her so greatly, perhaps even the first vestiges of love beat within his heart. A warm sensation fluttered through him as that thought crossed his mind â€" the smile on his lips threatening to fall off his face now.

“We will create a strong family Vanara. I will protect y'until death takes me.” He mused to himself, closing his eyes again and inhaling the sea air.

Another face fluttered into his mind now â€" another kind young face, black hair and short tusks; Her blue eyes also warm and attentive. Rhonyas visage clouded his mind for a brief while as he thought of the she-orc he considered a sister. Having completed the tattoo recently he felt relieved that she once again would be under protection from Fel. A comforting thought at least; he cared so deeply for her well-being.

Fel.

The thought caused him to grimace, even if it had originated from protecting against it. Even the mere word was still enough to set his mind ablaze with the internal struggle he hid within himself everyday. Rubbing his temples again he grunted in annoyance. While the past weeks had been easier than when he first returned to the Tribe he still did not find it easy. The vomiting, shaking and sweating had long since passed after the first week of withdrawal; as was expected. Yet still he had a sinking dark put in his stomach that would not leave; Desperately it clawed at him to cast those terrible spells. He still knew them of course, how could he ever forget the awful words after such a long time?

How long will you keep this up?

Shut your fuckin' mouth. I won't give in to you. Never.

I've been a part of you for most of your life. To deny me is to deny yourself.

Makaroth growled as he clenched the iron pole of the structure, shaking his head. The thumping had started again like a drumbeat. His mouth dry and his toes and fingers had gone numb. Such symptoms were easy to hide from the Tribe â€" Giving the inclination that he was doing well with his giving up, moving on from it all. In truth he felt utterly weak still, both physically and mentally. Sure he'd been training religiously day in day out and had come a long way from when her first started â€" But he was no Mozrogg Doomhowl, nor was he a Kogra Windwatcher or a Gor. He was weak still and deep down afraid that in the long run he'd fail.

The spirit-quest flickered into his mind again, yet he shut it out in an instant. That was too much to think about today; it'd be covered in another musing session when he could focus on it. It'd been a terrifying experience as in short he'd died in defiance of using Fel. Still unsure how he felt about it he'd simply slapped on his face and kept himself going strong. And that was his life day in day out at the moment. Staving off the withdrawals of Fel while pretending that he was okay; and he was getting -very- good at it now. The orcs seemed to think he'd recovered well and was on the right track and in truth he was; yet he didn't feel it at all.

Opening his eyes once more, he growled softly.

“Long night ahead.”

You and me both.

[Vanara]

Love the stories keep them coming. Very interesting to see his view on things!

[Azolg]

Doug.

Whos crazy? You're crazy? Why if you're crazy then that makes me batshit insane!

It had been what some Orcs might call an “Interesting” time in the Storm Peaks. In truth, it'd been nothing short of hell.

The night was bright with the stars above to offer a beautiful glow on the eve'. Once again Makaroth couldn't sleep as his thoughts raced with the events of the last few weeks; or however long it had been since they crashed here. A chain of events that had led to this strange and yet confusing finale; one that led them into the depths of Ulduar to defeat what could only be explained as a shade or image of the feared Old God; Yogg'saron. What that meant he had no clue but he was willing to hazard a guess at what they'd fought. There had been rumours that Old Gods simply didn't die in the conventional way and perhaps this was an attempt at Yogg'saron to resurface once more. The Tribe had fought a mere fraction of the Gods power; any more than that and they certainly wouldn't be standing here now.

He shook his head, looking down as a familiar friend wandered up to him; his little feet making tiny holes in the snow. Make sure you clean them up before you head back.

“Thinking again are we, Makaroth?” Doug murmured, swivelling his little cotton head up to stare at Makaroth, a smile on his one lined lips.

“Aye. Musing, Doug. It's been a whirlwind of a journey since we crashed. Just trying to get it all straight in my head really buddy.” He grumbled, leaning on the palisade.

Doug trod in the snow a few times; he loved being in it as it made his nose tickle. “It's been weird I have to say. I remember nothing before you picked me up.” Doug muttered as the teddybear reached down to pick up a handful of snow and throw it as far as he could; About two feet.

Makaroths gaze turned back across the canyon again as he thought back to the crash.

Fire and smoke had filled the air. A panic set in among the Orcs as the realisation they were going to crash was evident. Roxxai clutched close to him as he desperately looked around for Vanara; he hadn't seen her at all since they arrived on board and he prayed to the Spirits that she would be safe and survive the crash. He couldn't lose her, not so soon into their courting. Roxxai's grip on him was ironlike as they both leaned against the wall. He closed his eyes as he braced for impa;-

Grunting as he revisited the memory of the crash he clenched a fist; They'd survived and that was the most important thing. Swiveling his eye to Doug he smiled as the teddybear made bear-angels in the sno;-

Pain. He'd managed to land on his back with Roxxai on top; lest he crushed her in the fall. They'd been thrown off the ship and deafened by the sound of the impact but they were alive. It was by all accounts a miracle and as they trudged back up in the blinding snow they'd found Hellbrew on the way; Another Orc safe. Yet still no Vanara and still no sign of many Orcs. The exploration crew headed out and finally found her half-buried and freezing beneath a tree. Lom'rak had fallen, cut himself loo;-

A soft growl escaped his lips. While he felt some degree of guilt for Lom'raks fall into the crevice he was still angry at the Orc for acting such a hero. Perhaps that was why he walked past when Kogra was butchering him; While he'd lied to Lom'raks face he wasn't happy and hadn't forgiven the Orc .. He'd done it for the sake of sanity. Shaking his head he watched as Doug now started to make a snowbear, a smile on his li;-

A few days ahead. They'd settled in the wreckage and managed to find some supplies. After a successful trip to an abandoned Iron Dwarf settlement they'd seen a village nearby. It was time to check it out, and what a mission it had been. The whispers of late had compelled Makaroth to take a firm grasp of the orb and before he even knew what he was doing he had the Orb in his hands; images flashing through his mind and burning into his retina. He screamed internally and froze on the outside like a statue. It twisted and tortured his mind and yet spoke sweet nothings into his ear; seducing him to carry on with it all. When he dropped the orb he snapped back to reality, but shell-shocked for some time aft;-

“Thats when I found you, Doug.” Makaroth murmured watching the bear finish his snowbear.

Doug's head swiveled around looking at Makaroth “You're remembering when we first met? That was the first time I became aware of the world and what I was .. I was glad you picked me up, you helped me adjust to being how do we say .. Alive? All your memories forced into my soft head. Made it easy I have to say!” The bear chuckled, patting down the snow on snowdougs head.

Makaroth growled softly, a smile playing on his lips. “Maybe that explains why we're so simil;-"

Vanara. She's fucking abandoned me.

The thought echoed across Makaroths mind as he cradled himself in camp, Kogra sat beside him and comforting him. He was still recovering from what had happened to his mind; and Kargnar had just thrown Doug into the fire. Why couldn't they see Doug was alive! He was a living teddybear able to speak and everything! And Vanara the absolute bitch had abandoned me when I needed her the most; All because of Doug! Maybe she doesn't care, maybe she doesn't want me anymore now I be WEA;-

Another groan as he rubbed his head. That had been the most difficult time; adjusting to Dougs presence while recovering from the maddening images in his head; then having to cope with Vanara leaving him alone even when he called out for her help. He'd been lost that day and it truly was thanks to Doug that he was alive. While they'd patched things up and he'd learned to trust her again, he still worried for the future. She'd been even more caring and understanding since; And apart from the point they nearly parted ways in Bouldercrag she'd been everything he'd hoped for. But he worried if she was truly happy or making changes so she wouldn't be alon;-

Her claws raked his face several times and pain filled it. This was perhaps the most horrible of memories that he could recall from their time here. Kogra. The monster in his nightmares and the fiend in his dreams. While he'0d tried his best to befriend her again and cause her not to worry he now spent his life living in fear of the she-orc; Every twitch set him on edge and reminded him of that time.

Her claws raked his face, opening wounds and scars and blinding his left eye. He'd fallen to the floor hard as she leapt on him while he simultaneously tried to sit up; which resulted in her gutting him again and puncturing his lungs. He'd called out desperately for help on the spirit link, Lom'rak had walked past â€" Now was the time he genuinely thought he was going to die. As she stabbed him in the shoulder again pain flared into his mind; she was butchering him and nobody cared until she was throw;-

Makroths hand moved to the bandage on his head. It'd been nearly two weeks since the incident and yet he still wasn't used to seeing with just one ey;-

Please! Please stop her! Somebody he;-

“No! .. I cannot spend my life fearing her .. My nightmares are yours and mines secret Doug! I won't do that to her!” Makaroth growled, speaking aloud.

Doug finished the snow-bears nose, mumbling as he did “You know I won't tell anyone. It's our little secr;-

In. Out. The blades struck hard and fast. Blood clogged his vision. He was dying. Dying. Dyi;-

Makaroth closed his eyes and breathed. In and then out.

Vanara. They'd finally taken their oath and bound themselves to each other. Forever she was his, and he was hers. They'd make it work, they would through any pain and punishment â€" They'd make it happen. Rhonya now his sister. He'd always wanted a sibling and he could think of no better Orc to make one by oath. He loved her dearly, and always would protect he;-

Makaroth looked down at Doug. The teddybear lie still once again in front of the snowbear. A smile escaped his lips as he reached down to pick Doug up and tuck him under his belt once again.

“That time is it?”

Yup.

[Azolg]

Orc vs Beast

Become the beast. Become the wilds. Become the warrior

The night was beautiful this eve’ as moonlight rained down from the unclouded from above offering a reflective gaze across the whole of Conquest Hold. So bright was the light one could mistake it for a dimly lit day scene and as Makaroth limped across the grounds he cast his gaze above to the starry sky. Naked In the moons rays he cared little for exposing himself in such a way; he was an Orc and Orcs didn’t care much for the nudity of the body. A soft sigh escaped his lips as he rubbed his forehead; casting his mind back to the events that had happened earlier that eve’. His nose now heavily bruised and broken from the head-butt and his ribs aching in pain he groaned softly as he trudged outside the hold; his pride shattered by Roxxai during the brawl he’d lost to. It seemed that once again he was powerless to defend his beliefs against those who would stand against them and the frustration that boiled up inside him was a constant reminder of just how far he had to go.

His gaze searched the dimly lit woods as he wandered through them; as pure and uncovered as the beasts of the wilds that inhabited them. His mind wandered back to the fight again; he’d lost so badly it was almost laughable and made him curious just how badly he would have been beaten had she been in full fighting form. As his thoughts of self-doubt whirled around his mind he relieved himself against a tree; feeling like a true wolf of the wilds marking its territory. Turning around to survey the woods once more he grimaced in pain as the bruised ribs flared up again.

Sleep wasn’t coming easy this night which was the reason for the late night walk around. Truth be told he was searching for a sign of some kind; anything to give him a reason to carry on with his redemption. While he’d made his bargain to the Spirits he was sure there were ways around it should he wished to go back to using Fel magic again. Perhaps even accepting it entirely and becoming semi-demon himself would block the bargain he’d made to the Spirits. If he gave his soul away they’d have no claim over it. But to do that would not only surrender his soul to an eternity of torture in the twisting nether when he died, but it’d also mean he’d lose everything he’d come to love; both Vanara and the Tribe. That wasn’t a risk he was willing to take at least. But for how long could he maintain this mentality?

His mind casted back to the Spirit Quest Siyah’gosh had taken him on as he weaved and meandered his way through the trees. True enough he’d chosen death instead of using Fel to save his life but he was in a much better mental state back then. Now he was unsure of his position and choices in life and wondered just how long he could keep his iron will going.

Your mind falters. Steel your heart Makaroth; you have the power to defeat this.

The voice had left his mind as quickly as it had entered. He spun quickly and looked around for the source of the voice; he found none present but he was sure something had spoken to him. Balling his fists up he called out; “Whos speaking whispers in the dark? I promise you that I won’t stand for it.”

Silence answered his question and his red eyes picked out shadows in the darkness; yet none seemed to appear to challenge him. A soft growl escaped his lips in annoyance as he wondered whether he truly was losing his mind and imagining voices. Putting one foot in front of the other he continued his stroll through the woods, finally arriving at a clearing.

A snarl met his arrival.

His gaze picked out the view of a vicious looking brown worg sat upon a rock in the clearing. Almost invisible at first his eyes finally managed to visualise the outline of the beast; a powerful rugged creature with sharp fangs and deadly looking claws. The head of the beast raised up and the pair seemed to stare each other down for a moment as if issuing a silent challenge. Makaroth stood his ground firmly as he flexed his fingers; glaring back at the beast as if it was responsible for all the issues of the past few months.

Finally the beast moved. Leaping from its rock it barrelled towards Makaroth with speeds that justified the fear these worgs had; tearing across the plains in a matter of seconds. Naked and unarmed Makaroth’s mind swarmed with ideas on what to do; and he had to think fast. His mind slowed down as it surged towards him and he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end, his stance ready to defend himself in whatever way he could.

I will not die here.

A challenging roar escaped his lips as his body tensed; the muscles of late finally had some definition and he looked at least somewhat imposing as his shoulders rippled. Steeling his body the wolf’s maw opened to snap at his neck, but he would not give it that chance. He leapt as high as he could, ignoring the pain that wracked his body and met its charge with a powerful roundhouse kick to it’s snout, breaking its charge and sending the beast tumbling to the side; stunned momentarily.

That moment was all Makaroth needed. He leapt towards the worg and wrapped his arms around it’s neck, using his body to press down and keep it in position. He could feel it struggle as he tightened his grip and the jaws snapped close to his legs yet couldn’t reach far enough. Snarling as he tightened further it’s paws scrabbled at the ground beneath it; desperation finally settling in as the oxygen it so desperately needed couldn’t get to it’s brain.

With an almighty roar he twisted his body to the left as hard as he could; ignoring the pain that surged through his system now. A gruesome crack echoed across the plains in the silent night and the worg instantly went limp in his arms. As he slowly removing his arms from its neck he panted in the moonlight, standing victorious over his combatant. The red eyes picked out the now lifeless ones of the Worg and he offered himself a small smile at this; despite his own injuries he’d killed this worg naked and unarmed.

Leaning his head back he howled as loud as he could, a cry of victory and dominance at his kill. Once the final echos of his cry died out his gaze fell back to the area around him.

You have got to start believing in yourself.

The voice once again floated into his mind; yet he knew now he wasn’t going insane. This was the voice of spirits; whispering to him and keeping him on track. While his thoughts had been dark lately they’d needed just a slight nudge back onto the correct path again. A smile crossed his face through the pain and he turned back towards the Hold.

Roxxai, you will live to regret the insults you offered me.

[Nosh'marak]

I always love reading these! Keep it up!

[Hunnington]

Oof, read through all of this in one go, this is really, really good! I love reading about his journey.

[Azolg]

(( Thanks for the kind replies guys; I love that people enjoy reading this <3 ))

Old Flames.

Lust and love are two very separate, very dangerous things.

Grizzly hills was quiet this eve' in light of the recent conflict that occured between the Alliance an Horde. As peace settled again Makaroth found himself staring across into the nothingness of it all once more. A heavy sigh escaped his lips as he clutched the letters in his hand; thinking back to the pyres earlier on. It'd been an emotional campaign and on he wasn't sure he'd be able t'endure much longer. So much needless death had happened it didn't seem bear thinking about anymore.

His eyes cast downwards to the now sleeping Vanara; and a small smile came to his lips afterall. Seemed that even in the darkest of times she'd be there to lighten his mind. He was grateful for it in the end; Dark had been his thoughts of late and the Fel addiction had started to creep back into his mind, never truly leaving and always doubting his mind. A grunt escaped his lips as he thought back to the time a few weeks ago when he'd seen his friend Serguis again. He was sure Vanara had been around to hear the chat:

"Serguis you magnificent bastard! I knew it was your hat!" Makaroth rushed forwards to embrace the burly Draenei, a warm smile on his face.

"Ah, Makaroth; You've put weight on! I'm so proud of you." Serguis murmered; his voice deep and thunderous as he wrapped his strong arms around the Orc.

"Vanara told you .. Heh. Aye; I be free of it now friend." He murmered, plonking the hat back on Serguis's head.

"You cannot understand how much  joy that brings me." Serguis grinned.

Makaroth allowed himself another smile. It'd been a joy to see his friend once more and they'd spent many hours chatting and bringing each other up to date. He'd been greatly saddened when Serguis came to leave but in his heart he knew he'd see the Draenei again. Casting a gaze now back to Grizzlemaw; the fallen tree in which some of the Furbolgs called home his thoughts wandered back to the Dwarven Warband; In particular the sub-leader who'd impaled himself on his very on blade last night.

Unsheathing the sword he studied it carefully, noticing the dried flecks of blood on the blade, most of it from the Dwarf. He'd been utterly surprised when the Dwarf had commited suicide on Makaroths blade and wasn't the slightest bit prepared for it. A feeling of annoyance coursed through his body. The Dwarf shouldn't have died so easily not after the murders they'd done in the cages. But it had happened now and he couldn't dwell on it too long, lest he draw himself back into frustration. Once more a sign escaped his lips; only to be broken by the sound of a snapping twig nearby.

"Who goes there?" He turned quickly, grasping the hilt of his blade defensively, scouring the dark trees.

"Don't you recognise me, or has it been too long .. Felscream?" The gutteral female voice murmered; growling lowly.

Makaroth's eye focused on the shape in the trees. The female stepped out; A hellish looking Orc that had given herself over to Fel almost completely.  Green unnatural skin with burning red eyes and robes that were adorned in runes and skulls. Yet she was utterly beautiful and he once more felt his heart prang with lust. The Orc hissed softly as she eyed Makaroth up and down. "You've grown -weak-, Felscream. Such strength has dissapated from you; You have given up Fel magic?" He Orc purred; his tongue lashing between his teeth.

Makaroth shuddered at the horrific stench of Fel coming off the Orc; And yet he was drawn to it once more. The addiciton inside him surged back to life and he broke out into a sweat instantly. Shuddering he shook his head "Yes .. I have chosen a better .. Path. Look at you; you've .. Completely lost y'self." He murmered weakly, grasping his blade defensively; Yet the power of the Fel was unfocusing his mind, drawing him away from himself.

She laughed, cackling away "Lost myself?! .. I have grown stronger by the day. Do you not remember the glory days? Where we burned all those around us in beautiful fel-fire? I sense you thirst for it once more .. Feed the addiciton. You still know the spells." She teased; almost in a seductive way.

It was true, Makaroth still remembered all the spells from long ago; The dark incatations and rituals would never be forgotten. The female before him caused his heart to lust once more .. They'd shared many forbidden nights back in the dark days together; But he'd moved on from that. And as much as his Fel-desires longed to ravish her again, he simply could not bring himself to do it. Gripping the blade he thrust the point to her face; snarling as he held it a few inches away.

"Leave, Kaagran'. You will not .. Sway me back." He stammered, sweating profoundly.

Kaagran cackled. She twisted her fingers and Makaroth felt his arm's gripped to his side; Unable to move under the powerful warlocks magic. Green Fel-energy bound his arms as he snarled throatily. She sniggered and walked over, resting a hand with sharp talons on his cheek. "You were -always- mine, Makaroth .. And I will have you again." She growled and pulled his head down, pressing her lips against his; much to his disgust. He snarled and tried to bite at her as she kissed him, yet his teeth would not move; powerless to the spell of binding.

She held the kiss a few moments longer then bit into his lower lip, drawing his blood to suckle on it seemed. As she withdrew she cackled. "Good t'taste your blood once again. You'll come running. You can't resist. We can .. Burn the world. Together." She hissed softly, withdrawing into the shadows once more.

Makaroth growled against the binds - Yet he could not move for the longest time. He snorted and strained against them, spitting on the floor to remove the horrific yet delightful taste of Kaagran. Finally after the longest time the Fel-energies faded and his bonds broke. Swinging his sword in frustration he snarled into the wind.

The -last- person I needed t'come back into m'life.

[Rhonya]

*Innocent face* I have nothing to do with this. <3

[Hunnington]

Oh, I especially love this new chapter, so much potential!

[Wornag (Kronnor)]

Great. Right what we needed, Makaroth's crazy ex 

[Nosh'marak]

This. This is gdrp. This is amazing.

[Azolg]

(( Once again, thanks for the kind comments guys! <3 ))

The Night is Darkest Just Before the Dawn

Friends become enemies. Enemies become friends.

The night was dark once again and yet camp bustled with activity from the skirmishes that happened all through the night. Every now and then another group would go out to hunt down some more Alliance patrols; and every time they’d come back at least one member shorter. Such a waste of potential it seemed yet war was the way of the world. Makaroth’s gaze flicked to the campfire’s down below as he stood upon the aptly named “Kozgugore Mountain.” Vanara slept soundly now he’d returned yet he couldn’t bring his eyes to welcome the ease of rest just yet. There was too much to do, too much to think about; Hell he’d barely even had a chance to grieve for Serguis yet.

He missed his friend, and putting him down was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do thus far in his life. Quitting Fel magic was simple compared to the trial he’d faced not barely a week ago. A sigh escaped his lips as the memory flooded back into his brain once more; and without further ado he let himself relive the horrors of what had truly happened that day.

Felwood, just over a week ago…

“Are you enjoying your stay yet?” A voice purred through the air; which in itself was rank with fel-taint and hard to breathe.

Serguis had become something worse than he could have possibly imagined in recent months. In truth Makaroth had lied to Vanara when he felt Serguis’s life force depleting. Serguis had been alive and well, but the Draenei had simply been changing. The corruption in his soul was utterly strong and overpowering; and Makaroth had known the Draenei had turned to Fel magic long before he left camp. But he’d known that Vanara would never have let him leave had he told her. And as he stood there, naked and vulnerable before the Draenei he wondered if his choice had been truly wise to conceal such information.

The Draenei, if he could even be called that anymore, strode towards Makaroth a gleeful grin on his once kind face. His skin had turned a hellish looking deep red colour and his entire body had contorted; rippling muscles and long claws instead of fingernails. The once soft blue glow in his eyes had become a nightmarish fel-green colour; evil and disgraceful looking. Across his chest burned a fel-green tattoo which pulsated every now and then; the mark of the Legion. Serguis had given himself over entirely to Fel-magic in just a few scant months. What once was a proud and kind vindicator of the Alliance now was a true servant of the evil Legion.

“You see, I realised that the Light has never done â€"anything- for me. I struggled for many years as you know, begging the Light to answer my call. It didn’t save my family. It didn’t save my mate. And now, now I have abandoned it for a path that is â€"worthy- of the power I was meant to wield.” Serguis bellowed, moving over to the naked Orc and running a claw under his chin gently. “And here you stand, weak and alone; you should never have given up Fel Makaroth. Im going to bring you back to it.”

Makaroth grunted. The fact Serguis had knocked him out and stripped him was bad enough; a common piece needed for such dark acts. But here he stood promising to bring Makaroth back to Fel usage. A growl escaped his lips as the claw ran across his chin. “Not on your life Serguis. I don’t know how this happened, I don’t want to know. This isn’t you. You’ve become everything you ever fought in life.”

Serguis’s laugh was booming. “I am â€"complete- Makaroth. I am more powerful now than you ever could have been, dabbling mindlessly in and out of your Fel consumption. You have to give yourself to it completely.”

“And where has that got you now? What have you had to give up Serguis?” Makaroth challenged, squaring up to the Draenei.

Serguis leaned in close, whispering dreadfully “Everything.” He licked his lips, smirking in that terrible way once more. “Give in Makaroth. Join me, Brother. We will become gods in the Legions army.”

Makaroth grunted. Here before him stood the Draenei that he’d considered a brother for the longest time. They’d fought and killed together. Serguis comforted Makaroth when Kharia perished in the Siege; even saved him from losing his mind completely. A Draenei he’d have gladly given his life to defend. His own red eyes met the green ones of Serguis and he felt his heart drop. Serguis was his friend, his oldest friend.

The confusion was evident in his eyes and Serguis clearly noticed it as such. The Draenei lifted a hand; in which a vial was held within. A green horrific liquid stored inside; Demon Blood. “Drink once more, and claim your destiny. You strayed from the path, now step back onto it as a God.” He murmured.

Makaroth eyed the vial for the longest time. Then he simply nodded once, closing his fingers around the glass. “You’re right, Brother. I lost my way. Time to join the fray once more.”

A smile crossed the pair’s lips, and Makaroths arms slipped around Serguis’s neck, pulling the Draenei into an embrace. Serguis grinned softly and squeezed Makaroth back “I knew you’d see the truth, Brother.”

“Let it be done.”

To be continued ..?