Hunted

[Kozgugore]

'That is the third time I dragged your hide away from certain death. Whatever will you do when I am no longer here, little brother? Ha! Even when I will be feasting with my forefathers and you will be left here to arse around by your lonesome, I will never be able to look away from you.'
- Orboz Broadjaw to Kozgugore Feraleye, Second War

Hunted

Blood ran down from the corner of the dead orc's mouth like a calm mountain stream, running down to his neck and to the ground, where it spilled together in an increasingly larger puddle of blood. It had grown large enough to see his own reflection in, meeting with his own gaze. It served as a cruel reminder of the only truth he knew: you did this. You are the reason this young orc lies dead here, the flame of his young candle snuffed out far before its time.

Kozgugore stood to his feet. This time was no different. The eyes that looked back at him in the lake of crimson water knew that he felt no remorse. No time for pity or prayer. The number of times those eyes stared into the lifeless spheres of the dead were uncounted - a myriad of orcs whose names were added to the list of the fallen, their memories scattered to the winds. But not for him.

Ar'gok, Abrag Sourfist, Muzg Felsaw, Orboz Broadjaw, Thrazna, Choohan, Kargur Bloodaxe, Hakon Wolfmane, Mhokdor Spinesnapper, Marogg Stonefist, Greggar Ironfoot, Morgeth Feralheart, Sadok Sharptongue, Krogon Devilstep... They were each more than just names. They were memories. Morals. Ideas. They were him. All of their names together, they were more than the sum of their parts. He shared a family with them. A home. Even blood. There was a vision that he had, and it had once become reality. Now, that reality is a distant memory, hunted down by those who would see everything burnt to ash. They were each stolen from him. Not by those who hunted him now, but by the greatest hunter of all: Time.

With each death, another piece of his soul crumbled. Pieces that represented him, withering away in the autumn of his lifetime, until all ability to show penitence for those who died under him had burned away. So many had he seen die or sent to their deaths by his own hand, that each passing death led him to feel more detached from this material plane of existence. For years, he had waited for the ancestors' call - for the day that they would come to carry him to the halls of his ancestors and brothers in blood. But they refused. It puzzled him, to think of why they saw fit to see him linger and suffer like a phantom of an old, bygone world in this new age.

He wiped the blood clean off his axe. This time it was he who stole from another. Though he could not save this orc in time, he had still managed to put down his assailants. Whoever they were, they appeared to target both orcs of the old tribe as well as those not known to have had ties to it entirely. They sought to take his tribe from him. His family. The best he could do was to warn any who might still be out there. His only regret was that he was unable to link up with them himself. It would only have served to bring his hunters straight to those they sought to execute, making their vendetta only easier. He already knew his letters had been compromised somehow somewhere along the way. He knew it was only a matter of time before they were upon those that were warned, but at least the warning would serve to bring all survivors together and allow them to join forces and stand united. Give them a fighting chance, together... if they would heed his warnings at all.

Such concerns were far removed from his mind now. He had his own pursuers to outrun. He turned to the others who accompanied him in this chase. Sinami was recollecting her arrows from the dead, while some of the wolves foraged the battlefield with the curiosity of newborn pups. They were the closest thing he still had to a pack... A family. A final handhold to this corporeal existence. And now they had to save whatever might be left of their old pack - ensure there was still a future for the legacy that coursed through their veins. They had to press on. They had to know the truth...

The Blood had to be protected.

[Okiba]

Wonderful <3

[Sinami]

Yay! Kozzle stories! <3 Needs more Sinami though...