~Scroll 1~
The air was cool and breezy. A sweet relief to the hot sticky nights of Ashenvale. On the eastern end of the forest was a camp. Placed near the road that led to the Barrens, it was a camp filled with orcs. Splinter Tree outpost was all but a fortress with its fortified walls and constant guards, and late tho it was the outpost was filled with the clashing of steel on steel, the groaning of wood strained, and yells from a loud gutteral language. Eyes in the nearby brush watched as a raucus bunch of orcs, all of them big, surrounded a large old tree at least a hundred feet tall. Hordes of them around the base hacked at its roots with axes, pulling at its branches with ropes. A loud groan filled the otherwise silent night as the tree voiced it pain and anger. A sudden crack like thunder sounded and several orcs were crushed under the weigh of a fallen branch.
Pausing only briefly as more orcs moved in to replace the fallen, the hacking and pulling continued. On a nearby fallen tree, freshly felled, stood the largest orc of them all, his chin jutting into the night proudy. Shouting suddenly in his broken gutteral language the other orcs flinched as tho under a whip and began to move faster. Twitching ears heard them muttering as they slaved, no doubt complaining about the obviously superior orc as his shouting continued.
Suddenly, all orcs in the vicinity stopped, confused. Something was wrong. Pausing they listened for something in the quiet night. That was what was wrong, the silence. As one they turned to look at the fallen tree where the loud orc had stood. Shifting in sudden discomfort, all eyes glanced in all directions. Purhaps he would pop up and yell 'Surprise!'. Nervous'ness spread like a plague.
A gurgling yelp sounded beind the mob. Turning as one to look they found an unrecognizable mass of bloody green and brown rags laying not feet from the last of them. Panic broke out suddenly as orcs scrambled over one another as they ran to reach teh safety of the outpost. A shifting black shadow ran through the mob, gurgling cries of the dieing left in its wake. Panic made them blind. The gleaming steel of their axes their only focus.
Once inside the walls orcs groups together as their battle instincts took over. Silence reigned as they held there breath waiting for somthing to happen. A loud screaming overtook them from entrance as the orcs guarding the door came sprinting into the compound. Falling into the armed orcs and onto the ground, they screamed there last as they bled out. Eyes dialated painfully as one by one the torches around them were extinuished by an unseen force. Screaming erupted from all sides as they all scrambled to get away from death. Axes flew as they attacked without seeing, killing their own in an attempt to get away.
Soon all was silent. a single orc trying to make his way to the exit. Stopping behind a buidling, his breath was haggard and quick as he held his axe in fron of him. Strugging to keep a tight grip in his sweaty shaking palms. Hearing a scratching sound at the wall next to him, he jumped from behind the building and ran towards the gate. Reaching the middle of the encampment, he skidded to a halt and fell to his knees and his eyes widened at what he saw. His mouth opened as though to scream but no sound came out. Scrambling on hands and knees he got on his feet and bolted into the darkness beyond. He finally found his voice as his scream echoed through the night, but only briefly as he was silenced by a wet crack and a thud.
The night was peaceful once again. The only reminder was the occasional scent of blood on the wind. Any curious passersby with an iron will and a strong stomach would walk into the Splinter Tree Outpost to see corpses. Corpses arranged and tied together. Some gutted and broken. Appendages twisted into angles impossible in life. A tree made of corpses stood in the middle of the outpost. Entrails dangled from the top to mimic the boughs. Faces frozen in pain announced there fear as they died.
The wind blew once again. A nice gentle breeze on this hot Ashenvale night. Leaves of a large tree tinkled as though in chiming laughter. The large old tree was still standing. Ropes hanging from her branches and a large scar at her base, she looked all the more proud as she observed the carnage around her.