Grom Hellscream watched as his warriors were mowed down by the
gunfire. Invigorated by the heat of battle, those still standing charged
ahead into the ranks of humans. Many of the defending warriors were brought
down by the Orc's swinging axes and swords, but some of the more
experienced fighters stood and fought the green tide. Hellscream crashed
into the fray, his eyes blazing with the demonic hellfire that had never
truly left him. He swung his axe, and humans died.
His ears were assaulted with another blast of gunfire. His warriors were better prepared for the barrage of lead this time, and those who were hit were too frenzied to feel anything. Hellscream shrieked his battle cry, the demoralizing blast of sound carrying over the battlefield. He charged on, swinging left and right, deeper into the human settlement. Then he saw him.
This man, he knew, was his true opponent. A Paladin of the Silver Hand, he stood out starkly against the lesser humans under his command. Bedecked in gleaming armor and wielding a mighty hammer, he seemed to shimmer with his own inner light. He moved through the melee with a grace that surprised Hellscream, disabling only when it was absolutely necessary. Perhaps this human knew something of mercy after all.
Hellscream hefted his axe, watching the Paladin move purposely toward him. The man moved slowly, bringing his hammer into a defensive position and stopping about ten feet from the Orc. He motioned to Hellscream, and then charged.
He hit like a runaway cart, giving Hellscream only a split second to block the attack. The blow sent the mighty general back a few feet, much to the Orc's surprise. He reeled, then hit the human with a barrage from his axe, all of which his opponent blocked deftly. They traded blow after blow in this fashion, until the Orc called upon the training he had undergone so long ago.
He moved fast, too fast for the Paladin to see. Hellscream's movements slowed, and the human was suddenly surrounded by the Orcish general on all sides. Hellscream had duplicated himself, and wasted no time in using the advantage of numbers. Hemmed in by axes, the Paladin dropped to one knee. He looked up at the Orc, who grabbed his chin in viselike fingers. His voice chilled the man's blood.
"Listen to me, little human. You are nothing to me. Meet my demands, and your death shall be slow and painless. Remove your forces from our lands, return to your king, and tell him the Horde moves again. You humans cannot stand against the might of the new Horde. We do not wish to harm you as we did in ages past, only to free our incarcerated brethren from your internment camps. If you allow us to do this, then by order of our Warchief, we will find a new land for ourselves and never trouble your kind again. Will you agree to our terms?"
The Paladin spat one word: "Never."
Hellscream kicked him, sending him sprawling. "Then we will march upon your outlaying villages. We will give you a month before we move on your mage city. If you do not free our brothers and sisters before then, we will raze Dalaran. You have my demands ands consequences. Remember. One month." So saying, he hit the Paladin with the butt of his axe, and the human knew no more.
***
"How could you do this, Grom?"
Hellscream bowed his head. He stood before his Warchief in complete failure, and he knew it.
"But, Thrall-''
"No. You veered completely from the message I wanted delivered. Do you have any idea what the humans will do now that they think we bear hostile intentions?"
"My Warchief, I was only intimidating the human general. H-he would have continued his march and destroyed our camp. I saved us!"
Thrall sighed. He stood, helping Hellscream to his feet. "I cannot bring myself to exile the Warsong clan, Grom. However, I cannot allow this to go unpunished. Seek an audience with Wolfsong. He will know what to do."
Hellscream was relieved. He nodded his thanks, and exited the Warchief's tent. Surely, the shaman would not be too hard with his punishment. After all, he had known Morg Wolfsong since he was no older than young Thrall. Wolfsong was one of Thrall's closest confidants, an ancient Far Seer who seemed limitless in his wisdom. He was wise, and just, and Hellscream had often sat with him for many hours discussing Thrall's many plans. Still, he was uneasy. He took a deep breath, and started for Wolfsong's tent.
His ears were assaulted with another blast of gunfire. His warriors were better prepared for the barrage of lead this time, and those who were hit were too frenzied to feel anything. Hellscream shrieked his battle cry, the demoralizing blast of sound carrying over the battlefield. He charged on, swinging left and right, deeper into the human settlement. Then he saw him.
This man, he knew, was his true opponent. A Paladin of the Silver Hand, he stood out starkly against the lesser humans under his command. Bedecked in gleaming armor and wielding a mighty hammer, he seemed to shimmer with his own inner light. He moved through the melee with a grace that surprised Hellscream, disabling only when it was absolutely necessary. Perhaps this human knew something of mercy after all.
Hellscream hefted his axe, watching the Paladin move purposely toward him. The man moved slowly, bringing his hammer into a defensive position and stopping about ten feet from the Orc. He motioned to Hellscream, and then charged.
He hit like a runaway cart, giving Hellscream only a split second to block the attack. The blow sent the mighty general back a few feet, much to the Orc's surprise. He reeled, then hit the human with a barrage from his axe, all of which his opponent blocked deftly. They traded blow after blow in this fashion, until the Orc called upon the training he had undergone so long ago.
He moved fast, too fast for the Paladin to see. Hellscream's movements slowed, and the human was suddenly surrounded by the Orcish general on all sides. Hellscream had duplicated himself, and wasted no time in using the advantage of numbers. Hemmed in by axes, the Paladin dropped to one knee. He looked up at the Orc, who grabbed his chin in viselike fingers. His voice chilled the man's blood.
"Listen to me, little human. You are nothing to me. Meet my demands, and your death shall be slow and painless. Remove your forces from our lands, return to your king, and tell him the Horde moves again. You humans cannot stand against the might of the new Horde. We do not wish to harm you as we did in ages past, only to free our incarcerated brethren from your internment camps. If you allow us to do this, then by order of our Warchief, we will find a new land for ourselves and never trouble your kind again. Will you agree to our terms?"
The Paladin spat one word: "Never."
Hellscream kicked him, sending him sprawling. "Then we will march upon your outlaying villages. We will give you a month before we move on your mage city. If you do not free our brothers and sisters before then, we will raze Dalaran. You have my demands ands consequences. Remember. One month." So saying, he hit the Paladin with the butt of his axe, and the human knew no more.
***
"How could you do this, Grom?"
Hellscream bowed his head. He stood before his Warchief in complete failure, and he knew it.
"But, Thrall-''
"No. You veered completely from the message I wanted delivered. Do you have any idea what the humans will do now that they think we bear hostile intentions?"
"My Warchief, I was only intimidating the human general. H-he would have continued his march and destroyed our camp. I saved us!"
Thrall sighed. He stood, helping Hellscream to his feet. "I cannot bring myself to exile the Warsong clan, Grom. However, I cannot allow this to go unpunished. Seek an audience with Wolfsong. He will know what to do."
Hellscream was relieved. He nodded his thanks, and exited the Warchief's tent. Surely, the shaman would not be too hard with his punishment. After all, he had known Morg Wolfsong since he was no older than young Thrall. Wolfsong was one of Thrall's closest confidants, an ancient Far Seer who seemed limitless in his wisdom. He was wise, and just, and Hellscream had often sat with him for many hours discussing Thrall's many plans. Still, he was uneasy. He took a deep breath, and started for Wolfsong's tent.