This is the one I'm gonna have a bit of trouble with. I had no idea what I was gonna be doing with Wolfe when I first started this and I still have no idea lol. So I can already say with certainty that Wolfe's part will probably be the most boring of them all. But I will do my best to keep it as interesting as I possibly can. Also, I can't think of a logical way for them to summon their mounts, so if you have any ideas (other than them just appearing out of thin air like in the game) please please suggest them to me. Otherwise my story is gonna be them basically walking everywhere and, if you play the game, that is just a no go because it's slow and insufficient.
Also, the battleground scene is based solely off of what I've seen from the Horde side on my realm. So, please don't rag me out on what I've said being wrong.
I am aware I fail at action scenes... Very aware. This is another thing that makes Wolfe's story a trial. Wolfe is all about action and fights/duels/proving himself and I suck at writing stuff like that. So im sorry ahead of sorry about the short-ass chapters. Though I do lke how there is no dialogue until the end lol.
100 points to the first person to guess what bg he's in :D!
Wolfe's part 1
Wolfe stepped through the portal as if he already owned the place, a smug smile gracing his features, hands on his hips, and eyes scanning over the area with superiority. This was going to be a piece of cake. He didn't have the same ambition to explore the unknown that Silver had, and he hadn't been forced into going like Drakkon. He had agreed to go simply to prove his superiority to any and all who questioned it. Being the best was what he was good at. Setting off on foot, he wandered the orc city with a sense of purpose.
It was crudely built, to say the least. The buildings seemed to be thrown together out of large leather pelts, long spiked sticks, or possible dragon bones, and a clay and stone mixture to form walls. The land didn't seem to be disrupted by their building, either. The city was full of hills and cliffs that the orcs had simply built bridges and spiral staircases to reach the upper portions. Though this respect for nature would seem admirable to some, Wolfe couldn't see the good in inconveniencing the citizens by not leveling the land.
The one thing he had been eager to see for himself, however, were the fighting grounds. He had heard of the constant battles between the Alliance and Horde, and wanted nothing more than to experience them first hand. After requesting direction from a burly guard, he set off for something called the Hall of the Brave, where residential battle masters created portals to such fights.
Wolfe eagerly entered the large barracks and was pleasantly surprised to find quite a few portals opened for battles. Without hesitation, he headed for one and stepped through it. It was cold, again, and he vaguely thought he was back in Northrend, somehow. Though, as his eyes adjusted to the light, he found himself in a long cave, with many others gathering around feasts and casting spells of strength, wisdom, and putting up protective shields on fellow Horde members. Each looked just as ready and eager to fight as he did, and Wolfe smirked. He quickly evaluated those around him, figuring in his mind just how many of them he would be able to beat, himself. It was then that a large war horn sounded and battle cries ensued as everyone began to charge out of the cave.
The battlefield was covered in snow, towering mountains, and frozen lakes. Though he would hate to have to admit this to himself, he wasn't able to fully grasp where it was he was supposed to be heading. Land mounts were provided just outside the cave, and Wolfe gratefully grabbed one, mounted it, and followed the large group into the snow-blind winds. The Horde and Alliance met near the middle, accompanied by instant sword-clashing, war-crying and staining of white snow with deep red. Wolfe leapt from the mount's back, sword swinging to clash with that of a warrior. It didn't take long for Wolfe to pick up on both of the faction's strategies. The horde soldiers were brute and spontaneous about the encounter. There was no real teamwork involved. Rather, they all rushed the enemy as though they were going to defeat their entire army by themselves. The alliance, on the other hand, was very in tune with each other. Each was doing their respective jobs and nothing more.
The warrior that had opposed him, for example, was a part of a small group that seemed to be fending for themselves. Once Wolfe had established this fact, he dealt the Warrior a blow that knocked him from his feet and dove for the Priest, who had been healing. A few simple stuns and deadly strikes later, and the priest fell. From that point, ridding the Warrior was simple. Knowing well that they stood no chance without the Warrior and Priest, the remainder of the small group quickly disappeared back into the battle. Wolfe followed his fellow Horde as they pushed through the group and continued on their way into a stone, cylindrical building. A mass amount of others were already inside, and they took down one of the Alliance commanders with ease and the Horde scurried their way back out of the building into the fight.. Wolfe took a moment to quickly heal those who needed it, seeing as how there seemed to be no one else on the task. As he did so, he was forced to stand in one spot, one of the many reasons he preferred fighting to healing, and though he had chosen a vulnerable spot to do so, he would never admit it. It wasn't an enemy that knocked him off his feet, nor a fellow Horde soldier. It was a white nightsaber, as odd as it sounded. It zipped by him in a flash, knocking him back into the snowbank and causing him to curse. That was what he got for trying to be helpful. The nightsaber jumped without thought into the crowd and, quite efficiently, tore into a healer. Wolfe quickly picked himself from the bank and returned to the fight, though keeping an eye on the saber in curiosity. It was well trained, though Wolfe wasn't able to locate it's owner and, as the Horde prevailed over the fight, the saber disappeared, as well.
They pushed forward, capturing bases, graveyards, anything they came into contact with, really. There were more buildings, holding commanders and archers which were taken down with no true effort, and then, as they began to cross over a high, wooden bridge, the bulk of the Alliance army was waiting. The Horde charged without hesitation, and the Alliance held firm, determined not to let them pass. After quite a while of battling, Wolfe searched the bridge, determining a strategy before moving back away from the fight to approach a Tauren Shaman. A few rushed words later, and the Shaman gave a hesitant agreement. The two rushed into the crowd together, and Wolfe took distraction as he moved further into the crowd of Alliance, who seemed eager that someone had made such a fatal mistake. As the shaman followed, he stomped and a massive gust of wind erupted around him, blowing the majority of the Alliance around off of the bridge completely. The Horde soldiers gave a cheer at the tactic and quickly pushed through the rest of the crown to enter the last stone building. As soon as the commander in the building fell, a portal opened to take them back to Orgrimmar and they whooped and hollered in victory.
The remainder of Wolfe's day was spent going from portal to portal, eager to try them and even more eager to win. Though, things began to slow down as the sky turned dark with nightfall, and Wolfe, unable to find another battle to join, was forced to acknowledge his grumbling stomach. Wandering through the city, he found a small pub that, thankfully, offered food as well. He entered gladly and took a seat before ordering. He saw many of the same faces from the battlefield inside the restaurant, laughing and boasting about the victories as if they won them single-handedly. Wolfe chuckled to himself at their egotistical behavior. Though he may not have had the right, seeing as how he felt the same way, himself. As his food was set in front of him, he grinned, scooting closer and getting ready to dig in. Before he had the chance, a flash of white dove in front of him, taking the plate and bolting back towards the door. Wolfe snarled, immediately getting to his feet and chasing after it. It was the saber from the battlefields. The one that had the habit of disappearing. He chased it through Orgrimmar and out the main gate. It took a right turn, and continued down a long path that passed a Zepplin tower. It ran past the mountains and nearly made it to the shoreline before it turned again, into the mountains, Wolfe still hot on it's trail. If it hadn't been for the creature's long tail, Wolfe would have lost sight of it over a tall peak. When it didn't run back out, Wolfe approached cautiously. He didn't want to scare it away with his food, he just wanted it back. As he peeked around the corner, he saw the Saber right off the bat. It was purring happily at a Blood Elf's feet while she ate, tossing the creature half of the slice of meat. Wolfe rose a brow and stood straight, moving around the peak and catching the Hunter's attention.
"You owe me five gold." He said.