Welcome Home

[Azolg]

Family is that thing that keeps us going through all the pain and suffering in the world, even if we inevitably perish.

Present day

Nearly three long years. Three years lost, wandering and without direction. It had seemed so long ago since she saw Savvy the spider butchered at Razor Hill. The rebellion had been the cause of her separation and yet things seemed to be coming full circle as her boots trudged through the dusty familiar ground of Durotar. No wolf to carry her and only the endless trudging of her feet she'd searched for them once more â€" The Tribe that she called home and the one true place she'd belonged in her undeath. Can it be? Will I finally be reunited with those I had come to appreciate? Rhonya .. I hope she still lives. Round and round her thoughts circled her head as she pressed onwards, fatigue not stopping nor slowing her.

She checked her satchel once more to ensure a certain object was still there; the now tattered and battered book of emotions Rhonya had made for her. Well-worn through time and a relic of their friendship, she offered a small smile beneath her helmet.

Soon, i'll see you again .. Sister.

Two and a half years prior, just before the Siege of Orgrimmar

The chains were tight on her arms and those that lay around her ankles allowed her little movement. A growl escaped her throat in anger as the Kor'kron shoved along roughly â€" spitting on her saronite plate. “Move it y'piece of shit, I ain't got all day to wait for you.” The guard growled, keeping the sharp on his blade in the small of her back.

She'd been captured just days after leaving Razor Hill by a group of patrolling Kor'kron. After a short skirmish they'd managed to defeat and subdue her. Yet once they found out she was a Red Blade member they'd whooped and cheered and took her prisoner instead of killing her,

Dabina snarled and bared her fangs “When i'm free, your soul will be the first I claim.” She threatened as he glowing eyes flared with rage.

“Keep talking like that and i'll claim y'head. Now MOVE.” The guard snarled, nuging her forwards once more.

~#~

The Siege was well underway by now as Dabina once again strained to snap her chains. The guards watching her for the last month had abandoned their posts to join the hectic fighting in the streets, leaving Dabina unattended in the ramshackle hut that resided in the drag. Snarling and growling in annoyance she once more desperately tried to snap the chains, yet even her undead strength allowed her no quarry. Looking around with desperation on her face she spied her runeblade nearby, along with the precious satchel. The sounds of fighting grew ever closer now â€" Victory in the Hordes voices and Dabina took her chance, bellowing loudly to attract the attention of anyone nearby.

“Help! In here! I be a prisoner, a Horde soldier!”

Moments passed as she waited with anxious tension, desperately hoping that her cries out be answered. The tent flap quivered then flung open as a massive troll entered, eyeing up Dabina with a raised eyebrow.

“Y'be able t'fight, Deathwalker?” The Troll growled, holding his axe firmly.

Dabina growled, nodding quickly “Set me free, and my runeblade will thirst for their souls.”

The Troll smirked softly, swinging his axe in two vicious arcs; her chains falling to the floor. “Fight well Sistah'.” he murmured and charged back out into the fray.

A final growl escaped Dabinas lips. She moved first to her satchel, ensuring the book was still in there. Flinging it across her shoulder she grasped her runeblade; feeling her powers heightened as both her body and blade became one again. She bellowed loudly charging out of the hut and letting loose that famous battle-cry.

“For the blood of the Tribe!”

Six months after the Siege of Ogrimmar

“What do you mean you dont know where they went?!”

Dabina roared loudly, slamming a fist into the table in frustration; which only further frightened the Orc innkeeper further by her intimidating presence. They'd been at the Siege, even fought during it and yet somehow she had missed them. By the time she'd known they were there it had been three months that they'd left the area. Three months behind the trail of the Blades; it seemed she was destined never to find them again.

“I .. I don't know where they went, im sorry!” The innkeeper spluttered in fear.

Cursing loudly she looked down to her map of kalimdor again. “They were seen here three months ago in the Barrens. Just passing through I heard â€" It's not hard to follow they're steps; they're a huge Tribe! I can't even contact them Orc, I can't use the Spirit Link!” She bellowed, growling even further towards the innkeeper now.

“Your best bet is to head south .. Thats the only place I think they may go, they came from the North and were headed south!” He whimpered softly.

South ...

~#~

I'm never going to see them again. I cant find them, I can't contact them and no-body i've met is able to de-ward this spell the Kor'kron put on me.

Her thoughts had turned desperate now as she sat in Camp Mojache, Feralas. Watching the rain come trickling down a sigh that held no breathe escaped her lips; she'd been searching for nearly a year now, chasing the trails and whispers of those that the Tribe had followed. Now she was at a dead end, unsure of which direction to even walk in. She wasn't tired; her body didn't suffer the effects of fatigue but she was exhausted mentally â€" Once more a deathwalker without purpose.

Her hands rose to her head cradling them softly and she felt nothing but sorrow.

Just over a year ago, after the invasion of the Iron Horde.

News. At last! I know where they are .. Time, time runs out on me.

Her plated boots thundered down the pebble-dashed road; each step crushing stone beneath her boot as she forced her body to run as fast as she could. She'd heard the news one eve' in Gadgetzan that the Dark Portal had turned a deep swirling red and that a new foe had stepped across to invade Azeorth. Called the Iron Horde their numbers seemed endless, and volunteers had been called in to form a strike force â€" through the portal to whatever lay on the other side.

And who was at the forefront? The Red Blades of course. Ever the paragons of the Horde the word was the Blades were joining the vanguard to strike out at the Iron Horde. She would make it there in time â€" in time to fight and protect her fellow tribesorcs. If it was to be their end, then she would be there with them right until the end.

~#~

“What?! What do you mean the vanguard has already gone through?!” She bellowed at the Goblin, who simply seemed to raise a nose with disintrest.

“Yes, quite so you rude thing. The vanguard broke through about twelve hours ago im afraid. You'll just have to wait until they come back.” The goblin growled, looking around the camp briefly.

Dabina wasn't waiting. Grasping her runeblade she forced her way down, heading towards the Dark Portal. She'd go through on her own, strike out against the legions of Iron Horde and find the Tribe â€" regardless of what lay beyond. Nothing would stop her finding those she cared for.

The deep red portal suddenly flickered, then faded from existence.

Dabinas rage was unending. The remaining Iron Horde trapped on Azeroth had never seen such fury in their lives, and in the last few seconds of their existence before Dabina tore them asunder â€" They came to wonder whether joining the Iron Horde had really been all that worth it.

One year later, nearly present day.

A year. A whole year sat in the Blasted Lands waiting. Scouts had returned from the Draenor expedition and she'd stuck around the frontlines to hear what was being told. She knew they were alive, and she knew that the Draenor conquest was leaning towards victory. But there was no way to reach them and no way to contact them â€" What with the ward still being in place. Time seemed irrelevant now and as she counted the seconds in her head she could feel the strings of madness tugging at her mind.

“Dabina! Haven't you heard the word of the last few days? The Blades have returned from Draenor! I hear they came back some weeks ago and are residing in the Tirisfal Glades!” The Goblin foreman she'd met the first day yelled out, offering a curt wave.

Hope surged in what remained of her heart and she stood up instantly, sheathing her rune-blades. Finally, I can go home.