Disclaimer: WOW does not belong to me. How many different ways can I say this?
Author's Note: Really sorry about the long update time, but that's the job. Besides, my computer was giving me problems and I lost the data, and it took me a while to rewrite the story. I also need to up the rating on this chapter. This one has the violence of a story about one of the Manson family.
Chapter 6: Rescue
Nights in Durotar are literally as different as hot and cold. While during the day, the heat mercilessly cooks the land. However, when the sun goes down the temperature drops dramatically. The hot gusts of the daylight hours become chilling winds moving through the shadows. Canyons and ravines which catch these winds send baleful howls echoing through the night, as if the earth itself would seek to drive away intruders. Yet most importantly, in Durotar, the truly dangerous things only come out at night.
Torgan and Kazuk once again rode their wolf mounts, while Shokan the Blademaster refused climb astride one of the animals. On foot, the swordfighter was indeed swift, his pace staying in stride with the loping gait of the massive wolves. Joining the three orcs was Malvon and Braun, both astride one of the Kodo beasts. Unlike the relaxed pace of the convoy to Razor Hill, the two Tauren urged the Kodo into a galloping stride, and the huge lizard moved with a speed which belied its enormous size. Malvon was busy atop the lizard, feverishly working to control the Kodo's increased speed. Braun however, seemed to be enjoying himself. His multi-hued face was broken into a giant, almost frightful grin, excitement coursing through the Tauren warrior with each mighty boom as the Kodo's legs pounded the earth.
The moon was full, but hidden behind the dust clouds from the winds as well as those higher in the sky. The result was a very dim gray light which did little to illuminate the path. The sun had fully gone down by the time the small party left Razor Hill in pursuit of the wayward human Sethrezin. Sputtering torches mounted atop wooden poles were attached to the pagoda atop the Kodo, while Torgan carried another in his left hand. Riding point, he scanned the area ahead, searching for any sign of the white wanderer.
"Even if we find him," he yelled to Kazuk, "do you really think he'll still be alive? The Centaur don't show any mercy to strangers."
Kazuk did not answer, keeping his eyes firmly on the road ahead.
"No human can take on a tribe of Centaur alone," Torgan continued, slightly annoyed by the old warrior's indifference. "He had no weapons except for that piece of wood, and no armor at all. He is probably already dead!"
"He was not unarmed, Torgan," Shokan interrupted, his stride never slowing while he spoke. "Don't be so quick to laugh at that 'piece of wood' as you call it." Shokan briefly remembered his momentary confrontation with the wanderer, and the speed and skill with which he had been bested. The Blademaster had the impression that there was more to the seemingly defenseless human than he let on. Part of him still wondered how a wooden staff could stop his sharpened blade.
"Don't tell me you're afraid of the human." said Torgan, a minor edge of amusement and playful sarcasm in his voice.
"I fear no human!" retorted Shokan. "I just think you should show that one a bit more respect." To this, Torgan only responded with a growl.
"Or maybe," the Blademaster continued, in a sly, teasing tone "you are just annoyed at having to play nursemaid."
Torgan turned back to the running orc, reining in his wolf, his eyes blazing with rage.
"No one, not even another Orc, calls Torgan a nursemaid!" Torgan's torch in his left hand began to sputter as a gust of wind caught the fire. Even the golden-eyed wolf mount was distressed by his Master's anger. Shokan slowed to a halt, the playful light in his eyes rapidly darkening to a gleam of challenge. The Kodo beast slowed as well, its bounding stride reduced to watch the deteriorating situation. Malvon watched the two orcs with a tired expression, while Braun began to chuckle dismissively.
Suddenly, Torgan head lowered slightly, his hand releasing the torch as a swift exhalation of wind escaped the orc's lungs. Kazuk then rode up, annoyed and glowering balefully at the two younger orcs. His spear was gripped in his right hand, and held not far from Torgan's head.
"I am growing tired of both of you!" shouted the old warrior. "We have a mission to accomplish. If you two continue to argue like wolf cubs I'll have the Kodo drag you all the way back to the Orgrimmar!"
"He started it," Torgan and Shokan said simultaneously, pointing at each other.
Kazuk simply shook his head while uttering a pained groan, and urged his wolf to pick up the pace. It was unlikely they would catch Sethrezin before he reached the Centaur canyons. However, they could do nothing but press on. He only hoped his young companions did not kill themselves in the process.
Shokan picked up the torch Torgan had dropped, and tossed it back to the mounted orc, who caught it cleanly in his left hand. For several seconds they looked at each other, then resumed their pace, hastening to catch up with Kazuk. From their place in the Pagoda, the two Tauren watched the scene with amusement. Malvon turned to the large warrior, and spoke.
"What do you think our chances are?" he asked, smiling at his friend. Never one much for conversation, Braun answered in his typical fashion.
"Humph!"
"Yeah, that's what I thought too." Prompting the Kodo to resume its pace, Malvon stomped on the lizard's leathery hide. With a mighty booming howl, the Kodo lurched forward, bringing from Braun another bout of maniacally excited laughter.
OOOOO
The crags where the Centaur made their home were not difficult to spot. A winding canyon of red rock where the stone cliffs rose up to form an overhanging canopy of stone. This canopy would likely be quite useful during the day, where it would block the rays of the sun. However, at night, the dim light of the moon did even less to illuminate the darkness, and the rock only seemed to make the shadows press in even closer.
Kazuk kept a tight grip on his spear, and a keen eye on the road ahead of him. The obsidian head of the weapon glinted in the torchlight, sending streams of light lancing into the shadows. To his left, Torgan held the torch high, scanning for any sign of his wayward charge. Shokan loped along on foot, his hand resting lightly on the hilt of his katana. Even the wolves were alert, sniffing the air as their riders urged them carefully forward. The crag was oddly silent, the wind blowing softly now, no longer crying its haunting song. It was as if the entire area was taken an unending breath.
A yowl from behind made Shokan and Torgan turn swiftly, gazing back in the direction of the Kodo. The cliffs had been pressing closer, the entrance to the canyon now a narrow passageway of stone. While the wolves and orcs could pass through with no difficulty, the huge reptile could not enter the canyon through this small opening.
Malvon said nothing, and was grateful none of the orcs had either. A Kodo's howl was common enough in these parts, while sentient voices would be investigated. He had half expected Torgan or Shokan to reproach his mistake, though for once, the young orcs wisely held their tongues. Malvon could not continue on, but he was loath to leave the Kodo behind. A group of centaur would make short work of the docile beast.
Kazuk and Torgan reined in their wolves, moving back in the direction of the two Tauren. Torgan passed his torch to the Blademaster, telling him to scout the path just ahead. Kazuk was the first to reach the great lizard, and he called up to the mounted Tauren, keeping his voice low enough so their conversation would not carry.
"Well, now what? You can't get any further on the beast."
"I know. I would like to search for another way into the canyon."
"That will take too long, and by the time you find a suitable entrance, we will have gone." Kazuk did not want to lose sight of another member of the delegation so quickly, and he was reluctant to leave one of his comrades alone in the dark, even one as formidable as the shaman. Braun would stay if asked, but Kazuk had a feeling he would need the warrior's strength to find Seth.
"I will meet up with you," Malvon assured the old warrior. "An open spot will be found along the northern wall. I can enter through there."
"How do you know?"
Kazuk's only answer from the shaman was a bewildered stare.
"Oh, right," replied Kazuk, shaking his head in surrender. He never really did understand mystics.
Braun jumped down from the back of the Kodo, slamming into the ground with a mighty crash. Kazuk winced at the sound of the huge Tauren hitting the stone, then relaxed slightly when nothing seemed to stir in the canyon. Clutched in both hands, the warrior carried a huge double-headed war hammer, which was nearly as long as Kazuk was tall. The hammer head glinted in the torchlight, the metal bludgeon easily the size of the Tauren's head. Kazuk knew the strength of the Tauren warrior first-hand, but still chuckled a bit whenever he saw the almost ridiculously huge weapon.
"Kazuk!" shouted Shokan, "Something's here." The swordfighter kept his voice quiet enough not to carry, but still catching Kazuk's attention. With Torgan leading the way, the two orcs hastened to join the scout. Malvon urged the Kodo to shift, backing slowly out of the narrow passage, assuring to retreating orcs he would return.
The canyon walls opened into a large clearing a bit smaller than Razor Hill. Animal bones lined the walls, jumbled together in crudely constructed huts and shacks, covered by tightly stretched skins. Great piles of coal and ash spoke of revel fires long since extinguished, while footprints of cloven hoofs in the ash revealed the areas inhabitants. Wafting through the canyon was a pungent odor of rotting flesh and stale wind, strong enough to make even the orc's eyes water. This was nothing new to Kazuk, for he had assaulted many Centaur camps during his time in Kalimdor. However, as the light from the torch further illuminated the scene, it became apparent to the old warrior that something was very wrong.
The valley was a scene of absolute carnage. Centaur littered the area, or what was left of them. Corpses were strewn about seemingly at random, the equine forms casting strange shadows on the ground from the fire's light. Grotesquely mutilated, many were sliced in half, while others were missing limbs. The sand was dyed black from puddles of blood, while great streaks of red drew checkered patterns on the desert soil. Many of the centaur were armed, though those weapons were flung away from the bodies, several still clutched in dismembered hands.
"The human couldn't have done this!" Torgan exclaimed, his tone slightly shaken at the macabre scene. Shokan silently stared at the bloodshed, feeling no sympathy for the centaur, only fascination at the power inherent in what he witnessed. He shared Torgan's disbelief in thinking a human could be capable of such skill, but unlike the younger orc, the Blademaster had fought the stranger, brief as it had been. Shokan did not know of anyone, or anything else that would have a reason to kill so many of the equine monstrosities.
"These wounds were made with a sword." Kazuk muttered. "Sethrezin carried only that staff. Somehow I doubt these beasts were cut to ribbons with a 'piece of wood'." The last part was added with some sarcasm, teasing Torgan's earlier comment. The young fighter did not overhear.
"A massacre" muttered Braun, the warrior's voice drawing glances from the younger orcs. He had voiced what they had thought, and hearing something other than a grunt from the mighty Tauren was unusual.
"Search the area. Find Sethrezin!" Kazuk growled, his voice also carrying no sympathy and little compassion. The horsemen had too long been an enemy to allow for sentimentality.
Shokan gave another shout, and Torgan and Kazuk dismounted from the wolves to investigate. In a pile of Centaur corpses, Shokan saw something that looked familiar. A piece of wood, almost a foot long, lay in the center of the circle of flesh. It was covered in blood, one end cut in a jagged slash, splinters of wood clinging to the severed side.
This was part of Sethrezin's staff.
Reaching down, the Blademaster hefted the small fragment. Upon closer inspection, Shokan saw that the jagged end was hollow, with a shallow groove on the inner part of the wood. The staff had appeared solid, but now Shokan had the impression it was something more. It was one more mystery added to the growing suspicion surrounding their new ally.
As Kazuk and Torgan dismounted from their wolves, the animals began sniffing at the night air. Wintersbreath, the gray wolf, whimpered to her master, who nuzzled the graceful creature's neck to sooth her. Staring into the shadows with eyes alert, something caught her eyes as the light brushed over the darkness. Kazuk, sensing the wolf's distress, turned his own gaze to the edge of the torchlight. Torgan hefted his axe, while Shokan dropped the wood fragment back into the circle of corpses. Braun slung the war hammer over his shoulder, in a position where the hammer could be easily swung down if the need arose.
Then it happened.
A whistling sound cut through the shadows, cutting the air as the shaft flew straight at the small party. In the space of a breath, Shokan's katana flashed out, too fast for Torgan's eye to follow. Two shards of wood fell to the ground at Torgan's feet, one tipped with a jagged triangle of stone.
Wasting no time, Torgan dove to the ground, tossing away the torch, searching for some form of cover. Centaurs were filthy beasts, but their archers were not to be underestimated. The four would-be rescuers had to find cover from the bows before they were turned into pincushions. The two wolves took off into the shadows, hidden from sight, safe from the deadly rain.
"Scatter!" came Kazuk's voice. The clipped order acted like a trigger, and the three orcs and the Tauren launched themselves in all four directions, each seeking his own cover. Torgan and Shokan, who were the closest together, crouched behind the fallen bodies of the centaur, listening as arrow shafts thudded into the wall of flesh. Though the stench was repugnant, the two warriors could not move from their location, pinned down as they were by the centaur archers.
Braun did not move fast enough from the ambush point, and as the second volley of arrows flew, a shaft sunk deep into his left flank. However, the big fighter did not even wince, simply reaching down with his left hand and swiftly pulled out the jagged shaft of wood and rock. Scrambling toward a pillar of stone which barely covered his frame, he gripped the huge war hammer with both hands, silently waiting for Kazuk's next order.
The old veteran crouched behind one of the wooden huts, and assessed the situation. The dim light of the moon began to brighten as the clouds thinned, though it was still too dark to see clearly, even with the orcs enhanced eyesight in the darkness. Though the arrows had flown from the western ridge, Kazuk knew that centaur preferred to ambush. He knew with little uncertainty that the four fighters were surrounded and outnumbered. Looking around at the scene of carnage, Kazuk almost laughed.
"How many Centaur have we really been killing?" he thought to himself half-jokingly.
All at once, the volley of arrows stopped, the thudding sound of their impact abruptly going silent. Several seconds later, Torgan and Shokan lifted their heads from behind the circle of corpses. The clouds overhead began to thin, letting the full moon light filter down into the open canyon. The light was enough to allow the orcs to move with ease, but still too dim to discern between shadows.
A low rumbling began to sound throughout the small valley, echoing off the canyon walls and bouncing back and forth through the open space. It sounded like the distant booms of thunder, as of hundreds of feet striking the ground. Kazuk looked out from behind the wooden shelter, his eyes narrowing as he gazed in the direction of the western entrance.
Moving in the dim light, amorphous blobs shifted and moved like a living sea of darkness. Shouts and cries of rage and hatred began to accompany the rumbling sound. The clang of metal and the slap of leather punctuated the hoof beats as the centaur raced into the valley. Yet most frightening of all was the look on the centaur's faces, a look that Kazuk had known once before. The powerful veteran felt the stirring of fear, mixed with a sense of feral rage.
The centaur's eyes were glowing red, the demonic bloodlust screaming though their souls.
A mighty roar exploded from Kazuk's throat as he leapt from his cover and ran toward the encroaching monstrosities. His black spear held before him like a lance, he moved with a speed surprising for his advanced years. As the forms of the Centaur became more pronounced in the dim light, they halted for a moment to assess the new enemy.
Shokan, Torgan and Braun, spurred by Kazuk's challenging war-cry, moved from their own places of cover, racing to engage the centaur host. Torgan hefted his axe in his right hand, and shouting his own scream of rage into the night sky, rushed to join the old warrior. Shokan tried to get glimpse of the odds, his swift eyes darting to catch the shadowy movements.
There were at least twenty of the crazed horsemen now in the valley, most armed with short swords and spiked clubs. Though Shokan could only count those twenty, movement in the shadows spoke of many more. They were heavily outnumbered, and it was no comfort to know the centaur carried with them the savage demonic bloodlust.
When Kazuk and Torgan reached the first centaur, the younger fighter kicked his feet to the Earth, catapulted his large frame into the air. Holding the mighty battle-axe high above his head, he bellowed out an ear-splitting scream into the night. At the same moment, Torgan brought the axe downward in a brutal chop. The gleaming metal blade connected with the crown of the centaur's human head. There was the slightest fraction of resistance, and then, with a wet squishing sound, the human portion split in two down the center of the skull. The centaur was dead before it hit the ground. Wasting no time, Torgan regained his feet, and spun to meet another opponent.
Kazuk was busy fending off two other centaurs with the shaft of his spear. A shield of wood and hardened stone, formed by the twirling, black-tipped spear, kept the majority of the Centaur's blows from harming the veteran orc. Seeing an opening in the left centaur's guard, Kazuk shifted to the offense, swirling the spear in a horizontal sweep that knocked aside the weapons of both opponents. In a swift one-two strike, The old orc stabbed the left centaur in the human portion's heart, and drove the shaft into the exposed throat of the one on the right.
Shokan leapt about like a madman, his lithe form darting between the grunting, howling shapes of the demonic horsemen. Shrieking curses and challenges that echoed throughout the canyon, he moved like a vengeful force of nature through the centaur ranks. Each time the blade flashed in the dim yet strengthening light, another centaur groaned and whimpered in agony, falling to the ground as it spouted out its death throes.
Of the four combatants, Braun was the only one who seemed to be genuinely enjoying himself. A massive grin stretched across the scarred warrior's bovine face, creating a frightening mockery of savage glee. The gigantic war hammer clutched in two hands, it seemed as if a giant had suddenly plucked up an oak tree and swung it about like a child's toy. As the weapon connected with the dark shapes of the centaur, it sent one of the beasts flying high in the air, landing with a sickening thud, accompanied by the cracking of shattered bones.
As the battle seemed to be going well, the centaur moved off, running away from the small party. Torgan began to give chase, while Kazuk remained behind with Braun and the Blademaster. Torgan bellowed in rage after the retreating forms.
"We're not through yet!" roared the furious orc, desperately trying to keep up with his four-legged adversaries. "COME ON! IS THAT ALL YOU'VE GOT!"
Suddenly, Kazuk remembered what Shokan had said back at Razor Hill, and his head shot up in alarm
"Torgan no, wait! It's a trap!"
The Centaur froze, and all at once, all noise in the canyon stopped, Kazuk's warning echoing off the walls like some ill-fated omen. Then, a mighty roar came from the mass of horse-men. A low, bestial, roar that seemed to become once voice. Like a living sea of hate and madness, the Centaur reared, shifting their retreat, and doubled back to engage the party. Their eyes burned so red they seemed to generate their own infernal light, and the baleful glow of the human orbs filled Kazuk with a cold dread.
The rush came like a hammer, slamming into the party, instantly causing them to go on the defensive. Torgan, ahead of the small party, set his feet to the Earth, and grimaced at the incoming tide. Kazuk lost sight of him as the wave of flesh swept him up and drove forward to the other three warriors. Where they had one fought against the centaur in a fair match of skill versus strength, The orcs and Tauren were now hard-pressed to even defend against the demonic onslaught. Their weapons swirling in a whirlwind of wood, metal and stone, the situation was looking grim indeed. Only a miracle would save them now.
O O O O O
Torgan felt desperate. For the first time in his twenty-three winters, he felt genuine worry. Every orc warrior dreamed of dying nobly in mortal combat, but Torgan had thought it would be in some place more fitting than this stinking canyon of horsemen. Swing the axe in a circle in a dizzying spin, he tried feverishly to keep the centaur from getting a clean blow. However, fatigue from the earlier battle, as well as the current fight against the enhanced centaur was beginning to drain him of the last bits of his stamina.
A blow caught him in the back, sending the big orc crashing to the ground. His axe landed with a loud clang against the stone ground, and Torgan was defenseless. He swiftly turned over onto his back, and watched in grim defiance as one of the centaur raised a large spiked club high above his human head, preparing to smash the orc's skull in. Torgan spat at the beast in contempt, staring into the burning red eyes. Out of the corner of one eye, Torgan almost thought he saw a shadow drop from behind the centaur's form. Time seemed to slow, and the centaur swung his club down.
A wet, slicing sound filled the night air, and Torgan watched in dread fascination as a four-foot piece of bloodstained metal exploded from the Centaur's human chest. It was soon accompanied by a red fountain that gushed from the fatal wound. At that moment, the clouds over the canyon parted, and the bright moonlight of Durotar fully illuminated the canyon. Sitting astride the dying centaur, the long sword clutched in his bloodstained hands, was Sethrezin.
With incredible speed, he jumped straight up from the centaur's equine back, the sword slicing in an upward slash through the chest and out through the shoulder. The centaur fell to the earth, and was silent. In mid-air, the human righted himself, and landed gracefully upon the earth next to Torgan. He lifted his head, and though most of his face was obscured by the moon's glare, Torgan swore he saw the wanderer smile. With an inhuman scream and impossible speed, the human moved his blade in a glittering dance, slashing about the circle of monstrosities that surrounded the prone orc. They screamed, whinnied, and shouted in fear and denial, but nothing could save them from the human's attack. In the space of several seconds, Torgan's attackers were completely destroyed.
Sethrezin brandished his weapon, all five feet of bloody steel, lifting the seemingly cumbersome weapon with one hand. Clutched in his right hand and held straight up, pointing to the sky, he stood firmly with widespread legs, and raised his head to the heavens. From his lips and lungs burst a shriek of challenge and command, a long, animal roar which carried over the corpses of the fallen, over the canyon walls, and over to the group which accosted the three other party members. The centaur paused, peering through the demon blood haze, taking stock of the drastically changed events. For an instant, they examined the human which had come into their midst, and a moment later, they flung down their weapons, and broke into a stampede of fear, thundering off to the west, struggling over each other to escape.
The human gave no chase, and Kazuk raced to the aid of his partner. Shokan and Braun hurried to join him. Torgan continued to stare at the still, standing form of Sethrezin, who, after his soul-shattering scream, had fallen silent as death. Then, as the three orcs and the Tauren gazed in wonder and amazement, the human turned, and stared back at them. Torgan would remember for the rest of his days the sight which greeted him. As the moonlight shone down from parted clouds, the white light glinting off Sethrezin's moondust hair, the young orc felt the stirring of true power.
Sethrezin's amber eyes were glowing.
Dun-dun-duunnn! The plot thickens. Well, I promised a battle scene and here it is/ I hope you all enjoyed it. Quite a morphing storyline, this one like most of the former being made up as I wrote it. For those of you who are wondering what Sethrezin really is, YOU HAVE TO WAIT AND SEE! I am not saying who or what he is or isn't but it will be something unexpected, or at least, I'll try to make it that way. Thanks for all your support, and I'll try to get the next chapter to you soon!