Bloodlust

[Wornag (Kronnor)]

The sound of battle echoed around the rocky cliffs of Stormheim, the clash of metal, the yells of the dying, the piercing howl of the war horns.

Deep in a passing through the mountains a group of Horde warriors were fiercely fighting for their lives as they got ambushed by felsworn Vrykul. Despite their bravery, they were outnumbered, the wall of the crazed Vrykul slowly pushing them back towards the edge of the cliffs, and slowly to their impeding death.

The Horde warriors lost their courage bit by bit with each fallen comrade and with each enemy that took the place of the one they killed before.
Strength slowly left their bodies, fear taking over as they began to swing their weapons careless towards their enemies in a failed attempt to save their life or even prolong it for just a bit.

Suddenly, a volley of arrows rained over them, taking down a good number of orcs, tauren, trolls and other proud member of the Horde. Only a few remained, all covered in blood and sweat from the tiresome fight.

As they got closer to the end of the cliff, more started to try and get to the front, only to get struck down by the Vrykul. There was no escape for them, there was no hope. There was no order to be given to lead them to safety, nothing but chaotic fighting for their lives.

The Vrykul slowed down their push as another volley of arrows struck the warriors, killing and wounding what remained of their small group.
Suddenly, a loud roar echoed from their line as one orc slowly made his way to the frontline. With one hand he broke the arrow that pierced his shoulder while keeping a firm grip on his giant bearded axe. He bared his fangs as he slowly made his way forward, his eyes shinning red with rage.
He set his look on the Vrykul as they stopped in confusion.

With each step he picked up the pace, building up for a straight charge towards the enemy. If he was to die that day, he would die like a real warrior, not like a cornered beast.
He roared and charged gripping his axe with both hands now, letting the rage fuel his body and give him strength.

As he reached the first of the Vrykul he leaped towards them and carved down a couple unlucky foes that got caught in the swing.
Seeing this charge, a bit of hope filled the remaining Horde warriors, as they started to charge also, all yelling in unison "FOR THE HORDE!".

This took by surprise the Vrykul, as they thought they had easily won the fight, but they were wrong. One by one, they fell down to the strikes of Horde warriors, as even the slight chance of survival gave them strength to push forward.

It was now the Vrykul that started to lose their moral, seeing that the gift of fel did not make them invincible as they promised. Their advance stopped and soon they started to get pushed back.

It didn't take long after the tables have turned before the Vrykul scattered, the battle meeting it's end. The mountain pass was left covered in bodies, blood and broken weapons. The handful of Horde members started to scout around the battlefield for survivors, helping their own and ending their enemies.

The orc that started the charge looked around, setting his gaze on a dying Vrykul that looked like a leader of somesort, with ornate armor and a big fur cloak. He slowly made his way towards the felsworn, axe ready in his hand.
As he reached the dying foe he took off his Rylak skull headdress and placed it on a rock near him. He wiped the sweat and blood from the side of his head with his forearm, revealing a tattoo: a wolf head with the tail of a serpent.

"When will you giants learn that the bigger you are, the harder you fall? Even with the help of your demon masters you all bleed and die the same. Regardless of your efforts, it is not my destiny to die today. My story is far from it's end." the orc said before raising his axe and swinging it at the head of the Vrykul.

To be continued...

[Kozgugore]

I didn't know Saurfang wound up in Stormheim. x3

[Wornag (Kronnor)]

I didn't know Saurfang wound up in Stormheim. x3

I didn't know Saurfang had tattoos on his head.

[Kozgugore]

War paint, actually.

[Wornag (Kronnor)]

Well, I clearly specified "tattoo" in my story

[Wornag (Kronnor)]

It was a windy night in Stonetalon, the chill breeze fluttering the fur cloak of a lone orc as he climbed higher in the mountains.

As long as he enjoyed his stay in Stormheim, apart from the constant Vrykul attacks, Kronnor knew he had to get back as soon as he heard rumors of a mysterious Feraleye asking for help from other orcs. He had no choice but to honor his oath to the Wolfking and to the tribe.

Since the tribe went silent Kronnor went his own way and aided the Horde in the war-effort against the Legion. But now the tribe returned and Kronnor's priorities changed. No more fighting under the command of weaklings, seeing plenty of good men fall due to the lack of tactics from Horde sergeants.

As he kept climbing, the thoughts of seeing familiar faces again rushed through his head. Time seemed to slow down with each step he took towards the meeting place. Finally, the Red Blades would be together again, even if he had his little quarrels with some of them, he would defend each of them with his life. Kronnor always thought he lost everything to the constant wars, but he figured it out in the end that he still had a family, and now it required his aid.

Faint sounds made him to stop in his track. He threw quick glances around with the corners of his eyes, keeping his ears sharp and trying to pick up any unusual scent. He wasn't alone and it was no beast that stalked him. Whoever was going after him was pretty good, but not perfect. By the faint sound of movement Kronnor picked up quite a handful of attackers. About a dozen of them.

He gripped his axe tight as he slowly started to walk again, keeping his guard up. He barely took three steps forward before two of the attackers rushed him from the front, emerging out of the shadows. Kronnor brought up his axe, blocking their daggers, as a couple more rushed from behind. He managed to push them back with his axe and turned around with a swing, taking them by surprise with his fast movement and cut them down.

As he started to cut down one attacker after the other, their number seemed to not waver, as more and more emerged from the shadows. The more he fought them the more it seemed they were not even flesh and bones, more like shadowy figures brought up by magic. Even then, Kronnor did not give up, fighting as much as he could, but it seemed the attackers were just trying to tire him down rather than kill him.

After what seemed an eternity of fighting the shadowy attackers, Kronnor slowly started to get overrun, hard blows hitting him from all the sides as he tried the best to fight them off. Until everything turned black...

To be continued...

[Kozgugore]

We're losing him, Jim! D: Good story though, for what it's worth. Even if you're dead.

[Wornag (Kronnor)]

The sound of rattling chains slowly started to fill Kronnor's ears as he came back to his senses. He had no clue for how long he was passed out or where he was. All he remembered were shadowing figures that ambushed him.

As he slowly opened his eyes he could see three wooden posts to his left and one to his right. To each of them there were orcs tied up, all having a scared look in they eyes, with a small glimpse of hope that help was on the way. As he fully opened his eyes, Kronnor discovered that he was tied up to a post also.

He tried to give the chains that held him captive to the post a couple pulls, but they were properly attached to the post and would not come out.
Suddenly, a voice made him stop in his attempts.

"Don't worry, it will all be over soon enough."

As he looked around, he saw a group of hooded figures slowly make their way towards the captives, clearly their intentions were not very friendly. Behind them, some kind of mechanism was set on the ground, a fel green metal cylinder with dark crystals and crude looking exhaust pipes around it.

As a couple of the hooded figures got in front of each captive they channeled some spells and started to drain the captives with one hand and focus on the machine with the other.
The yells of agony started to fill the air as the link between captive and machine started to grow stronger.

As he felt his life leaving his body, Kronnor's mind was soon filled by thoughts of everything that happened in his life, everything that he survived, every hard moment that he overcame.

All of that for what? Only to come down to this? To end up like this? To die like a helpless runt? No! Not like this! NOT... LIKE... THIS!!!

Suddenly he felt his thoughts morphing into a mix of anger and the will to kill everything on that peak. He felt his wards falling, the Bleeding Hollow curse taking over his blood and his body, he felt the rage come out from the depths of his own being. The rage that he tried to lock away from his tribe, from his family.

As his yells changed from agony to primal war cries, his eyes started to glow red, setting his gaze on the one that started draining him.
The cultist started to falter back, as he managed to see something was wrong. He didn't feel overconfident as before, as if he was a captive and not a captor, the sight of this raging orc trying to break free sending shivers down his spine.

Before he could even react, Kronnor pulled his chains with such strength that he managed to yank the wooden post out of the ground and fling it over his head straight on the cultist, crushing him down. As the cultist died, the draining link between Kronnor and the fel machine stopped, but it was too late for the others, as the ritual was complete and the other cultists turned their attention towards Kronnor.

As they rushed towards him with their spells ready, the berserker started flinging his new weapon around, sending them flying all over the place, his lust for blood unsated. But soon it all came down to an end, as the shadowy assailants soon jumped in out of nowhere, managing to outnumber Kronnor.
Despite his crazed attempts, despite all his struggle, slowly they took him down, pummeling him into the ground until everything went black again.

"Put him in a cage and leave him here. The mist will take care of him, if not, no one will find him anyway."

To be continued...