Greetings all and welcome to my story. I would like to say a few things before we get into the story. First off, this is a slash story with the pairing Orc/Blood Elf. Second this story will contain violence, gore, and small doses of swearing and dark themes. You have been warned.

This piece of fiction is set prior to Mists of Pandaria (read: ignores its existence). Mostly this is because I first came up with the idea for it long before the newest expansions release but obviously this means that a number of events here do not coincide with the most recent lore.

That's all I had to say here. I plan this to be long journey and I do hope many of you will see it through with me.

...

This disclaimer is to cover the whole of this story and to make one thing very clear... I own nothing. I do not own World of Warcraft, Blizzard, any recognizable characters, nor any of the songs mentioned here. I do however own the plot and Blood-Eye Blade.

...

Chapter 1: And So It Begins

The large olive green orc made his way through the Valley of Strength market place, carefully weaving his muscular frame through the heavy crowds as he headed towards Grommash Hold. After what felt like an age he finally came to a stop outside of the Hold's entrance and looked back at the writhing masses he had escaped. He shook his head, sending the long black braids that hung down his collar bone swinging.

Great to be back, Drakken thought, mentally rolling his eyes. Turning his gaze away from the glare of the sun burnt valley he stepped through the archway and into the cool confines of the stone building. He sighed with relief as the shadows enveloped him, cooling his too-warm skin. He loved Durotar but after spending two months in the icy conditions of a winter-gripped Hillsbrad Foothills…well it was just a bit much.

Slowly he made his way through the halls to the throne room, smiling at the sentinels that greeted him on the way. His rich brown eyes swept the large circular room and the faces there but found no sign of the Warchief. He turned to one of the elite guards standing next to the entrance, a bulky orc who he recognised from basic training in the Valley of Trials many years before.

"J'nore. You wouldn't happen to know where the Warchief is right now, would you?" He asked. The larger male nodded in the direction of the small set of stairs camouflaged against the back wall.

"He's up in the strategy room looking over some plans." Drakken flashed the guard a brief smile and clapped him on one plate covered shoulder before continuing on his way up the stairs.

The orc moved through the halls with familiarity and ease. It wouldn't be his first time here, nor even his tenth. After all, Drakken had been a captain in the Warchief's militia since Thrall's time though much had changed since Garrosh Hellscream had taken over. The red orc had swept through the Horde like a hurricane, changing everything, and not always for the best. Not that anyone would ever voice these thoughts aloud. Those who were overheard muttering words of discontent often vanished into thin air or found themselves shipped off to the furthest Horde outposts to be found. And the Warchief had ears everywhere…

The muscular orc shook his head of such thoughts. Evidence had yet to surface on any truly sinister acts by the current Warchief and it would do him no good to go searching for it. For now it was best to just do his job. It wasn't like he had any personal grievances with the current status quo and the feeling of unease that lingered on the air at times could hardly be called definitive.

Turning one last corner his destination loomed before him. He hesitated outside, knocking one heavy green fist against the wooden doorframe. A grunt from inside reached his ears, followed by a deep, guttural voice.

"Come in."

Stalling only long enough to straighten his armour, the warrior swept aside the Horde banner which acted as the room separator and allowed himself inside. Once inside the strategy room he immediately found himself pinned by the Warchief's intense gaze. The olive skinned orc briefly touched his fist to his chest in greeting.

"Ah, Drakken, just the orc I was looking for. How goes the battle for Hillsbrad?"

"The battle goes well. I can say with all confidence that the murloc threat is no more and all except one Alliance hold has fallen." Garrosh nodded his satisfaction.

"Good. One hold is not enough for the Alliance keep their purchase within the Foothills. It will not be long before their forces there are completed eradicated." The rust coloured male's scarred face contorted into a twisted imitation of a smile, amber eyes alight with the promise of bloodshed. Drakken felt the slight cloud of unease descend once more and shifted uncomfortably.

"Warchief, was there another reason you summoned me?" He asked, keeping his face carefully blank. Almost as quickly as it had appeared the disturbing leer was gone, leaving no indication that it had ever been there in the first place.

"I have summoned you Captain because I have another mission for you. One of vital importance." He strode over to the planning table, gesturing for Drakken to follow. As Drakken approached he could see a mess of maps, figurines and plans spread out across the desk's surface. On top of the pile was a map of Kalimdor, marked by numerous scribbles, crosses and circles. He leaned close over the map as Hellscream started to explain.

"We have received word of an attack planned by Southsea pirates on the goblin city of Gadgetzan. I want you to lead a company of 200 warriors from Orgrimmar to Tanaris to aid in the defence. I want you to crush those pirate scum! Leave them as nothing more than bloody smears amidst the sand! If we save those goblins' scrawny green behinds then maybe that neutral city won't be so neutral anymore. If not then we will simply have to find another way to bring them around to our way of thinking…" Drakken ignored the last muttered remark and bowed his head.

"It will be done, Warchief." Garrosh nodded once more.

"Good. You will be travelling through Dustwallow Marsh into Thousand Needles. There should be a ship of some sort there to take you across the flats. The attack is said to take place in two and a half weeks' time. More than enough time for you to get there." The mighty Warchief straightened and stepped away from the cluttered table.

"Also, in light of the importance of this mission I have elected a Patrol member to accompany you." Surprise flitted across Drakken's strong features.

A Patrol member? He had heard of Hellscream's Patrol before, a select group made up of some of the most skilled warriors the Horde had to offer, but never before had he actually had the honour to work with one of the illustrious group.

A collection of elite handpicked for their incredible battle prowess…This person must be a demon on the field. He looked back at the Warchief but the red orc's attention was focused on the entry behind him, a smirk spread across his scarred face. Drakken's brow furrowed and he turned to the door. The almost undetectable sound of light footsteps reached his ears mere seconds before the flap was swept aside and who he could only assume was the Patrol member walked in.

The young male elf that strode through the doorway was at least a head shorter than himself but undoubtedly covered from head to toe in lean muscles, muscles which were dressed simply in mahogany leather pants, boots, and a creamy linen shirt. Two long, thin daggers hung from his belt, and a thick metal collar was wrapped around his neck. Both glinted dangerously in the light coming in from the small window. His peachy skin appeared flawless and smooth until a slender hand moved to push a stray lock of hair from his face, revealing the single angry looking scar that marred his left brow. The way it all came together it was hard to decide whether the elf was beautiful or handsome, feminine or masculine, but this was as blood elves tended to be. But it was his eyes, oh his eyes, that really caught his attention. In their depths he found no familiar fel green glow…instead his eyes were a deep and bloody crimson. A shiver worked its way down Drakken's spine because despite their fiery colour his eyes held no warmth. They were as cold and hard as steel.

The blood elf came to stand at his side before the Warchief. Like Drakken he briefly touched one clenched fist to his chest.

"Warchief." He greeted, his voice as cool and emotionless as his eyes. He glanced briefly at the orc standing beside him before turning away once more, causing his long blonde ponytail to swing gently. Drakken mentally picked up his jaw from its place on the floor. The smirk on Hellscream's face grew.

"Captain, I would like you to meet Blood-Eye Blade. He's the patrol member who will be going with you on this mission. He'll be making sure everything goes…according to plan." The green orc grinned at the shorter male and nodded politely.

"Well met." The elf barely turned his red eyes to the warrior.

"And to you." He said, his voice quiet and his tone crisp. Drakken shrugged off the Patrol member's aloofness and returned his attention to the Warchief.

"I've already alerted the men. You leave tomorrow. Those that live outside of the city's walls have made arrangements and all of them will be ready and waiting outside the gates an hour after sunrise. Understood?" Garrosh fixed them with a scrutinising glare.

"Yes sir." The two replied simultaneously. Satisfied he turned his narrowed yellow eyes on Blood-Eye Blade and growled.

"And I want no screw-ups, understand?" The elf in question lowered his gaze to floor and a shadow of a grimace fell upon his lips.

"I…understand…" He muttered. The smirk returned to Hellscream's face.

"Good. You may go." He dismissed the two men with a wave of his hand and turned away from them. They silently exited the room, leaving the rust coloured orc to his business.

...

Garrosh Hellscream stared out at the city of Orgrimmar from the small window in the clutter filled strategy room.

How easy it is, he thought, to root out and eliminate those that may challenge my supremacy. His amber gaze zeroed in on the two men that exited his hold, eyes narrowing as the orc tried unsuccessfully to engage the much smaller blood elf in conversation.

A shame to waste such obvious talent but it cannot be helped. All must bow before the new Horde or be crushed beneath it. He doesn't even realise that Blood-Eye Blade will be his undoing… A chuckle rumbled through his chest and a cruel leer stretched itself across his face.

And as long as Blood-Eye Blade is the one to raise the knife none shall ever know…

...

Twilight fell upon Durotar, turning the red land beautiful deep shades of crimsons and dusky purples. In the city of Orgrimmar citizens were retiring to their homes to eat, rest and await the coming of the next dawn. Drakken walked through the slowly calming streets of the Valley of Strength towards the inn he and his friends were staying at. He watched others return to their places of residence and thought of the lumpy bed that awaited him with a sigh. Not that he would ever regret the path he had taken. He had seen and experienced so much, met so many people, though he had to admit the always-on-the-road lifestyle of a militiaman like himself could be a wearying one.

I'm lucky I have friends who are willing to come along for the ride, he thought.

As he approached the inn he could hear raucous laughter spilling out and into the valley. He shook his head even as he grinned.

Broken Tusk Inn: never a dull night, he chuckled mentally. He entered the building and found his senses accosted by a wave of sights, smells and sounds, all of mixed in with the ever present heat. The bar was full of burly warriors taking up all the available room and then some, most everyone drinking, joking and enjoying the last few moments of peace and relaxation before they shipped out in the morn. Over the din he could just make out several voices calling out his name. Rich chocolate eyes scanned the many faces that filled the space until they caught sight of his companions waving at him from a table near the back of the room. He immediately elbowed his way through the crowd to the table and collapsed heavily in the small wooden stool saved for him. He accepted the mug offered to him gratefully, uncaring of what it was he was just happy that it was still cool. He took a large swig of the liquid, relishing the sensation of the cold washing down his parched throat.

"Enjoying the heat?" A melodious voice asked from his left. He let the mug fall back onto the table with a light 'clunk' and groaned. The blood elf who had spoken laughed at his response, her beautiful face scrunching up in her mirth. The scraggly grey skinned forsaken beside her shook his head, his limp black hair falling into his eyes.

"Oh yeah, and if you didn't get enough of it today then we still have a whole month of blistering heat and sand to look forward to." He said, his gravelly voice thick with sarcasm. The pink skinned elf giggled once more.

"That's our Gavin. Mediocre rogue and resident pessimist." Gavin glared at her and opened his mouth for a scathing reply but Drakken got there first.

"Don't you two start." He growled half-heartedly. The undead scowled but didn't reply, instead choosing to raise his mug to his cold lips and mutter grumpily into his ale. Drakken turned to Melaine with a long-suffering look.

"Why must you always bait him?" He asked, gesturing at their comrade. Mel smiled prettily and flicked her wavy strawberry blonde hair over her shoulder.

"Because it's fun!" The mage stated simply. Drakken sighed but let it drop, knowing from the gleam in the mage's fel green eyes it was a futile effort. He switched his attention to a large troll with a grass coloured Mohawk who was watching the exchange with obvious amusement

"How are you feeling Kar'zhel? Are you sure you're up for this mission?" The troll in question waved off his friend's concern.

"I be fine. Mah wound already be healed and I got the go ahead from Bjarnn over here dis mornin'." Kar'zhel said motioning towards the grey-brown furred tauren druid seated between Gavin and himself. Bjarnn's green eyes rose to meet Drakken's brown.

"The wound was superficial and it looked much worse than it truly was. He's completely healthy." The tauren explained. Drakken nodded and grinned at the lanky blue troll next to him.

"I'm relieved. It wouldn't be the same without you." He said, clapping the other man on the shoulder. Across the table Gavin snorted loudly into his drink. Bjarnn raised one furry brow at the man but otherwise ignored him. The forsaken set his mostly empty mug back on the table's surface and leaned back, rolling his yellow eyes.

"Yeah, we wouldn't have to worry about saving his skinny arse." He quipped. Kar'zhel squawked indignantly.

"Oh, don't try to deny it." Gavin said, cutting off whatever retort had been on the troll's lips. "You just jump in without thinking, swinging that mace of yours around. Then you go and get yourself hurt and can't even heal yourself! Some shaman you are." Kar'zhel's bright orange eyes narrowed.

"I be an enhancement shaman, you know dat. Besides, how be dat any different from what you do?"

As the two fell into argument Drakken took the chance to go get a refill. He chuckled to himself as he stood at the bar awaiting his drink.

I'll probably get back to find those two have escalated to wrestling on the table.

...

"Here ya go. That'll be 2 silver." The orc behind the bar said, handing him a freshly filled flagon. Drakken thanked the man and fished a couple of coins out of his coin purse, making sure to include a few extra coppers as tip. As he was paying the man a familiar figure approached the bar.

"I'll have a bourbon." The blood elf stated to a suddenly nervous bartender. He placed a few silvers on the bench. "This should cover it." The orc nodded and hurried to get the beverage for the intimidating elf.

"I didn't take you as one for the drink." Drakken admitted, shifting his attention to the smaller man. The elf flashed his deep red eyes towards the warrior briefly before turning his gaze back to the bartender.

"We all have our vices Captain. I am no different." Blood-Eye Blade said, his voice barely distinguishable over the racket of the inn. Drakken nodded as he considered the statement.

"I suppose that's true. The Patrol aren't that different than regular guards or soldiers, after all." The blonde elf fell silent for a minute until the barkeep returned with his drink. He muttered a "thank you" as he took the roughly hewn mug. He dipped his head towards Drakken.

"I must take my leave of your company. Enjoy your evening Captain." Blood-Eye Blade turned on his heel then and returned to his seat, the crowd parting around him as he went. Drakken shook his head in bewilderment as he watched the blood elf leave.

That is one strange person…

...

Drink in hand, Drakken slowly made his way back to his friends, hoping against hope that Gavin and Kar'zhel had settled down in his absence. As he passed a table of men whispering among themselves his lightly pointed ears caught snippets of discontent.

"Dangerous…"

"Some…dead…"

"Murdered more like…"

"Evil…red eyes…"

The hissed words made him stop in his tracks.

Red eyes? Surely they can't mean anyone but… Drakken came up behind them and gently touched one of the men, a light furred tauren, on the shoulder.

"Excuse me, but if I may interrupt? You wouldn't happen to be talking about one Blood-Eye Blade would you?" The four all turned to look at him in surprise.

"Of course, it's the infamous Blood-Eye Blade! Everyone's talking!" A stout brown orc exclaimed. Drakken frowned, confused. Shock widened the other orc's amber eyes. "You have heard the stories haven't you?" Drakken held back a grimace.

"Let's pretend for a moment that I haven't…" He said, pulling up a chair. The tauren next to him shook his head in disbelief.

"I didn't think there was a soul alive who hadn't heard…Where have you been all these years? Living under a rock?" He asked incredulously. Drakken rubbed at his temple with one hand and reached out for his cherry grog.

Why did I bother sticking my nose where it doesn't belong? He wondered, feeling the first stirrings of a headache beginning to thump against his skull.

"Must have been." He muttered more to himself than anything else.

"No wonder you were able to talk to him so casually without worrying about a dagger being plunged into your chest." Said another orc, his voice rough. Drakken's hand stopped its soothing ministrations and his earth brown eyes widened dramatically.

"What…?" The hoarse voiced orc nodded emphatically.

"Oh yeah. Ol' Blood-Eye has a history of murder." He explained. "I used to think they were just stories until I met Kilreign here. See, he's actually seen it!" He gestured one green hand towards a rather scrawny looking orc. Kilreign looked up and Drakken found himself ensnared by the man's haunted gaze. When he opened his mouth to talk his voice was small.

"It was…terrifying… I'd been on missions before where one of the Patrol had been sent along. Usually they just sorta sit quietly in the background, just like the Warchief tells you they're there to make sure the job gets done. But Blood-Eye Blade…He was a different story altogether. From the start he made people anxious. Having some strange elf with red eyes watching all the time is rather disconcerting. But he was just like the others at first, hovering silently in the background. Then the fighting came… The man was a demon on the battlefield, running through the ranks slaughtering friend and foe alike. The Commander, my mate Harthagg… No one knew why he did it or why he didn't just kill the rest of us too and be done with it. And I think that's the worst part…not knowing if there was a method to his madness or if it could have been anyone…" Kilreign fell silent. His grey eyes became unfocused as he stared into an image only he could see. A moment later the light in his head came back on and he coughed awkwardly. "Anyways, I guess it doesn't really matter in the end. When we got back to Orgrimmar we reported everything to the Warchief but…nothing changed. The exact same thing happened the very next month…" The small orc shook his head as if even now he couldn't believe what he had been witness to.

"That's true. You hear rumours all the time about similar situations occurring. Fel, I've even heard talk of whole platoons disappearing where that elf's involved." The tauren rumbled beside him. "Pretty much guaranteed that if Blood-Eye Blade is involved then there is trouble on the horizon."

"The speed and grace of the lithest rogue and the strength of an orc warrior…" Kilreign breathed. Drakken looked at him, waiting for the other orc to elaborate but instead silence descended upon the table. Seconds ticked by and Drakken found his attention turning inwards. Thoughts of the strange elf and the stories he had heard occupied his mind.

Such horrific tales…Could they really be true? He wondered. Is that the reason why so many shy away? His brown eyes swept the crowds, coming to rest upon the blood elf. Blood-Eye Blade sat alone at a table staring into his bourbon. The iron band around his neck reflected the lamplight back into Drakken's eyes. The orc frowned.

"What about that metal collar? He was wearing it in Grommash Hold earlier but I didn't get a chance to inquire about it. It hardly seems like something a blood elf would usually wear." He asked, breaking the hush that still held the group within its grasp. It was the rough voiced orc that replied.

"The Patrol is made up of about a score of people, men and women of all races of the Horde. Every single one of them wears one of those collars." He explained before draining his mug. He slapped it down loudly and sighed. "Well that's enough horror stories for me. I'm going to go get some shut eye. Big day and all tomorrow." The orc rose from his chair and Drakken followed suit.

"Yes, I should be getting back to my friends. Thank you for the talk." He bid the men goodbye and slowly made his way back to his table, his mind still distracted by images of red eyes and crimson rivers.

...

Hours passed uneventfully and one by one the common room began to empty, people seeking their beds and the comfort of sleep. Kar'zhel, Bjarnn and Melaine had joined the masses in their migration upstairs some time before and it was just Drakken and Gavin left to occupy their little corner.

Drakken struggled to conceal yet another yawn as he sat slumped at the table. Gavin stopped talking to raise his brow at the orc.

"I'm sorry, was I boring you?" He asked. Drakken shook his head even as another yawn escaped his lips.

"Sorry, I'm just so tired. I think it's time I called it a night." The forsaken rolled his eyes as Drakken rose from his seat and stretched.

"You living and your sleep." He groused. Drakken chuckled at his friend's negativity as he started towards the stairs.

"Goodnight Gavin." He called over shoulder, humor colouring his voice. A grumbled "yeah, yeah" reached his ears and he smiled.

Ah, Gavin. As Mel so aptly put it; our resident pessimist. Drakken yawned again. Ah, bed…

Yet it would seem it was not yet meant to be for as he made his way towards his room he was distracted by the sounds of distress. He almost walked right by and ignored it but with a tortured groan he stopped.

Ugh, I hate myself sometimes, he thought. Glancing around, he quickly spotted the source of the disruption.

"Kilreign? What's wrong?" He asked, his brow furrowing in concern. The distraught orc jumped, his head whipping around. When he saw it was only Drakken some of the tension slipped from his shoulders.

"Oh, it's you." He mumbled. Drakken sat himself down in the chair next to the smaller man and leaned back.

"What's wrong?" He asked again. Kilreign averted his gaze and shifted uncomfortably.

"You'll think it ridiculous." Drakken held back a frustrated groan.

"You don't know that. Just talk to me." He implored the man, offering a comforting smile. Kilreign sighed but turned to his fellow orc and started to explain.

"The inn is rather full with all the soldiers, so those of us leaving tomorrow on the mission to Tanaris have to double up. And I…I was assigned the same room as Blood-Eye Blade!" The man's grey eyes widened and his hands shook at the mere mention of the elf. "I can't stay in the same room as that monster. I just can't…" Kilreign shook his bald head, his grass coloured hands gripping his skull. Drakken nodded as the pieces fell into place.

That would do it, he thought.

"I understand your concern… Tell you what; I'll switch rooms with you. My roommate might not even go up so you'd probably have the room to yourself." He offered despite knowing that his undead friend might chew him out for it the next morn. Kilreign smiled gratefully.

"Thank you. I know it's silly. An orc being afraid of some little blood elf but…After the things I saw…" The man shuddered. Drakken nodded again.

"It's fine." He assured the orc. The two exchanged keys and Drakken, after bidding the other a goodnight, finally made his way to his room.

...

The olive skinned orc unlocked the door and shuffled into the room, making sure to stop the door from slamming behind him. He deposited his belongings on the floor next to the closest sleeping mat and ran a hand through his thick dark hair. Carefully he removed his plate armour, leaving him in his linen shirt and breeches. He breathed a sigh of relief, closing his eyes. When he reopened them he stopped. A pair of red eyes gazed up at him from a pale face. Drakken opened his mouth to say something, anything, but came up blank. The silence stretched into awkward territory as the two men stared at each other. Thoughts of Kilreign and his story ran rampant through Drakken's head though he tried to ignore it.

Ugh. This is one of the reasons I don't normally listen to gossip.

"You are not my assigned roommate." The blood elf observed. The simplicity of the statement seemed to sweep away the cotton blanketing Drakken's mind.

No, you're previous roommate was too terrified to come within ten yards of you... He thought. The orc swore mentally and looked at the elf sitting up on his sleeping roll. Long blonde hair free and framing his face and a flat crimson stare.

Damn. It doesn't matter what he's done I can't say that…

"Uh…No, no I'm not. The other guy, he wanted to stay with his friend who was actually in a room with me. So I agreed to switch with him…and now here I am." It was a weak lie he knew. After all, they weren't youths in their first years of training. He saw something flash deep within Blood-Eye Blade's dark red eyes, something almost like hurt. The smaller male blinked and it was gone, replaced by a sceptic raise of one elegant brow.

"Uh-huh." It was the most casual he had heard the Patrol member speak. Blood-Eye Blade shook his head and exhaled softly.

"That was a terrible attempt to lie. And you needn't have bothered…I am used to such things." He said quietly. He turned his gaze towards the orc once more. "Anyway, I wish you a good night. We start a long journey tomorrow and I am sure we could all do with some rest." He reached out and blew out the candle on the floor beside him, cloaking his half of the room in shadow. The orcish warrior blinked in surprise.

I believe I have been dismissed, thought Drakken wryly. The small grin that had accompanied the thought slipped as he pondered on the rogue's words.

'Used to such things.' I wonder if one can truly become used to such pain…or if they just get better at hiding it…

He yawned and decided to follow the blood elf's example. He had a feeling he would need all the rest he could get in the coming weeks.

...

...

'Tortured and twisted, he walks the streets alone
People avoid him, they know the street's his own
Cold blade of silver, his eyes they burn so wild
Mean as a tiger, society's own child.

Those that tried to burn him paid
You don't do that to Johnny Blade.
He's the meanest guy around his town
One look and he will cut you down…
Johnny Blade, Johnny Blade…

Life has no meaning, and Death's his only friend
Will fate surprise him, where will he meet his end?
He feels so bitter, yes he's so full of hate
To die in the gutter, I guess that's Johnny's fate.

Rivals all across the land, he kills them with his knife in hand
He's the meanest guy around his town
One look and he will cut you down
Johnny Blade, Johnny Blade…
Johnny Blade, Johnny Blade…

Well you know that Johnny's a spider
And his web is the city at night
He's a victim of modern frustration
That's the reason he's so ready to fight.

He's the one that should be afraid
What will happen to you, Johnny Blade?

Oh he knows his future's decided
And he ain't gonna change it, no way
He was born to die in the gutter
He'll keep fighting `till the end of his days.

Been alone all through his life
His only friend is a switchblade knife
He's the one who should be afraid
What will happen to you, Johnny Blade?
You fool the people
Who's fooling who?
It's time to listen
The fool is you!'

...

Johnny Blade by Black Sabbath.

There you have it, chapter 1. For anyone interested, you can find a larger picture of Blood-Eye Blade than the cover under my DeviantArt Account Sugi91.

Until the next time, farewell.

11 March 2013 - Content Edit/Update

19 August 2013 - Content Edit/Update