Thread: Grab Life by the Horns [Massfanatic/Squish]

RE Grab Life by the Horns PearlheartSquish The tauren wavered on his feet once more. He was clearly low on blood and energy. The very act of priming his muscles for combat was enough to make him light-headed. But he was stubborn. And clearly not light headed enough that he couldn't pivot once again, his anchor hoof sinking further into the soft moss. At first, he blamed the blood loss for why he hadn't heard her coming early. But nearly the very moment he'd pivoted, he realized that wasn't so. It didn't take a master swordsman to realize that the third elf was the true danger of the three. But his trained eyes carefully regarded her movements, her stride. It was easy to tell she was well-experienced in both combat and stealth. In his current state, his pride aside, he knew that he would not be able to win against her. But him fully healed, with all his equipment? That would be a much, much closer fight... She passed him, not even and arm's length away, and for the briefest of moments, he was sorely tempted. But even his wounded pride was not quite enough of a cause to start a battle he couldn't finish on his terms. As much as he disliked it, the elven woman was the one in charge right now, and he'd have to settle into her pace. He lowered his fists, but stood tall and proud, freeing his hoof from it's divot. He listened, and watched her, his sea-green eyes carefully following her every movement. When she mentioned slaying the orcish woman, he cursed inwardly. He had hoped that her greed and fear would win out in the end. That she would simply be satisfied looting the gear and purses of the other corpses, and go off to deliver his message. Now, it was just another problem. He'd have to go back to the battlefield, track down Garrosh's skull, then head to spllintertree and send it by wyvern to Thunder Bluff. The wyvern was fast, though. He'd have much less of a head start than he'd desired originally. Perhaps if he rode straight into felwood, the fel would cover his tracks for long enough for him to set up another battlefield. As she began her speech on 'nowhere to run' he had to grin inside, though he kept his face emotionless. He was being underestimated. He could use that to his advantage. As for the Satyrs, he'd marched through a half-dozen of the demonic camps while making his way this far into Ashenvale. They were no real threat to him. Well, perhaps naked, they would be, but with his gear, they were nothing. As for the 'countless leagues' of alliance territory, he knew better. A long day's ride from even the farthest parts of ashenvale could get one to Splintertree. Perhaps two day's worth, if one took the time to give a wide berth to the alliance settlements in the way. He did show a slight frown when she said she'd discarded his clothes. Frostweave was expensive, and he'd had that shirt tailored for him. The fabric would shed blood or virtually any other sort of befoulment like a duck's back shed water. A stab-hole could be patched. By the time she commented on enjoying the view, he knew she was trying to manipulate him. But he had to admit, it was an unusual combination of fear-mongering and flattery. Perhaps that was her game. As the girls prepared the boar for the fire, he looked at it with an evident longing. His utterly empty gut decided it was time to remind him just how empty it was. He swayed softly on his hooves once again, but soon he shut the emotion away, stiffening his jaw and watching the elven woman down his snout. He said nothing about the hunger, not yet. As she strode closer to him, his eyes tracked her movements. As her hand rose to touch his wounds, he didn't even flinch. His eyes stayed on her the entire time. His muscles didn't even tense up under her fingers. He was determined to preserve the last of his pride. He would show these girls no fear. Even in the face of death, he would not retreat or hide. Even if he could not win, he had his pride, and they would never take that from him. As she began to ask her questions, he listened, carefully, his ears turned to listen to her alone. He stayed silent through all her questions, all her threats, and his face betrayed none of the line of though that ran through his mind. As much as he hated to admit it, there were really no options. She wasn't asking anything that threatened the horde, and her demands seemed reasonable, if perhaps a bit draconian. He cast a glance to either of the younger girls, before his eyes settled back onto the mother. When he finally began to speak, his voice was deep and even. I will stand, or I will fall. I will not sit, not on your orders, not while I still have my pride. He began, then raised his hand to his chest. My name is Vigoro. Not 'you'. Vigoro Palehorn, shieldmaster. Grimtotem exile. He told the mother, then lowered his hand. I am in alliance territory because I was pursued here by the tauren whose head I took. I had hoped that the presence of the alliance would be enough to scare him off the trail for the moment. I was apparently mistaken. so, no, I was not part of a raiding force, and no, those were not my comrades. As far as I am aware, there is no raiding party of that sort. I didn't see any signs of such a thing while making my way here. the tauren whose head I took is Garrosh Grimtotem. He is the grandson of Elder Crone Magda Grimtotem. The orcs were nothing more than mercenaries, lured by the purse the Crone placed on my head. There will definitely be more to take their place, especially once Magda learns her grandson is dead. With the orc woman dead, I should have a few weeks until the word gets to her, maybe a little longer, since the battle happened in alliance territory. It would have been much shorter had the orc woman passed on his head and my message as I told her to. He seemed perfectly calm as he explained this. They are after me because the Grimtotem do not forgive. Garrosh was the second of Magda's grandchildren I have killed, and one of several dozen of the other Grimtotem I have killed. I do this, because the Grimtotem are a danger to the entire horde, and the alliance too. Madga is a serpent. She sits on Elder Rise, speaking of peace in public. But she whispers words of war in the ears of the chieftains, and her clan pushes for battle. They strike at alliance settlements, and they collaborate with the forsaken rebels. the alliance does not see Grimtotems, they just see tauren. The acts of the clan are blamed on the horde as a whole. If they aren't stopped, they will bring a new war to Azeroth. But Magda's words find homes in powerful ears, and a lone exile is no match for her influence. So all I can do is kill them, and put a stop to Magda's plans wherever I can, and keep her occupied. If she spends her days screaming for revenge and planning my hunt, she does not spend that time furthering her goals. He finished. He arced an eyebrow at the night elf mother. Well? Are you satisfied? He asked.