A stitch in time saves drowning in the sea

It was certainly cold up North, Gulgrim thought grimly to himself as he began the process of riveting a piece of leather. The tanned material was tough t puncture, which pleased the Orc Shaman. Not only would it provide ample protection from the elements, but it would also cushion him against physical trauma. If today was anything to go by, then there would likely be a lot of physical trauma by the end of tomorrow to deal with. Just today, for example, Gulgrim had been sent plummeting into the sea from dizzying heights. Not only did the Orc sink like a stone in his heavy mail armour, but he also nearly broke one of his legs upon impact from such a great height. Luckily the Clan had Calli the Sin’dorei healer as well as the High Priestess to see to Gulgrim’s woes. All of this had transpired because of a certain Doctor and his flying shack. Gulgrim had been the only member of Dagger and Totem close enough to get inside the building before it shot high into the air and over the sea. Doctor Kohler would pay for his savage kick, which had sent the young Shaman tumbling out of the building and plunged him in to the freezing depths.
Despite any and all setbacks, the Campaign still seemed to be going fairly well. After trekking Northbound up the Eastern front of Icecrown, the Clan had encountered all sorts of resistance ranging from the undead to the Cult of the Damned. Each time the clan had obliterated all in its path, crushing bone and cleaving limbs. The Scourge would know that they had been assaulted by Dagger and Totem, by the Horde, as they cut a swathe to the Argent Tournament. Gulgrim smiled in memory of the battles. His limbs ached from the strain of constant battle, constantly wearing heavy armour. It was almost a relief that the Chieftain practically ordered that Gulgrim come lighter equipped for tomorrows sortie. So here he was stitching, riveting and gluing bits of leather to each other, with some fur off to one side. He was using Harg’s attire as inspiration, hoping the mimic it as closely as possible. It shouldn’t prove to be too hard, it only involved liberal amounts of bleach – found on all respectable tailoring vendors across Azeroth. Luckily there was one of those at the Tournament, so Gulgrim had set to work earlier that evening.
Casting his mind back to the day before as he worked away diligently, Gulgrim remembered how it felt to have his lungs filled with freezing sea water. He’d been coughing ever since and despite requests from the Elements of Water and Fire to sooth his ills, he still found himself unable to warm up completely. Gulgrim neglected to tell any of his companions about this, though. Instead he rose as soon as he was able in order to aid the clan in the ridiculous events of the last couple of hours. Some variety of strange looking Dwarves were trying to activate a mechanical monster they had created in The Storm Peaks, one that was as tall as some of the surrounding mountains. After the Clan had effectively bumbled their way through the construction site and tackled the mind bending world of Dwarven engineered lift systems, they stood tall atop the sky-scraping colossus. It took Sithren’s blade to penetrate the hatch into the best and Sergeant Watrus’ mechanical ingenuity to sabotage the beast’s massive frame, but they had managed it. They even managed to cause a massive avalanche, which left the earth slightly incensed, water and wind extremely gleeful and fire didn’t really care.
The new clan members seemed to be fitting in well. As Gulgrim had overheard Calli, the Sin’dorei female who had helped ease the mild sprain he had picked up, mention to the Chieftain that she was used to being around clans of Orcs. Or did she say pups? Something like that. Gulgrim grunted slightly as he snapped off some thick thread and tied it down, folding the leather over to conceal the stitching and fixing the seam down with some strong glue. Sithren was similarly impressive, displaying his still as a combatant by besting several Dwarves in a crowded lift all on his own. Chuckling in recollection as he turned the tunic over in his hands to inspect the handiwork, Gulgrim nodded in satisfaction at his handiwork. It looked much better than Harg’s rubbish effort! Or so Gulgrim thought at least, with a wolfish grin adorning his face. Well, that was perhaps a touch unfair, Harg’s outfit was well enough crafted to have garnered Gulgrim’s attention initially, which led to the construction of this masterpiece. Gulgrim was quite apt with animal hides, having carved and used the flesh from a wide range of creatures in Outland. At first, his old companions laughed at him for what was perceived as a bit of a feminine hobby what with the sewing and all, but they soon ate their words as Gulgrim remained comfortable even in full mail armour thanks to leather padding.
Tomorrow the Chieftain had told them that they would be heading North, back to the sea. In Search of the Doctor, Gulgrim assumed, and perhaps also the Death Knight who had maimed Gremkarc earlier that week. With the clan’s hunger for revenge against the Death Knight, Gulgrim was convinced that he didn’t stand a chance, especially with their new allies fighting alongside. Sithren even put himself forward as an expert combatant against the Scourge, being that Blood Knights seemingly possess all the powers of those formerly affiliated with the Silver Hand. It seemed that nothing could go wrong and that they would end this campaign with just one more tactical movement. Destroy the Doctor, destroy his Whelp labs and if possible exact revenge upon the hide of the Kal’dorei Death Knight who had struck down the Chieftain, if only for a time. Rising from his seated position, Gulgrim peered outside of the Argents tent and watched as Watrus threw another hissy fit at Nelai. He couldn’t contain the gruff chuckle that escaped him at the ridiculous gestures Watrus was making, clearly incensed by something the High Priestess had said.
When Clan Dagger and Totem moved out, Gulgrim would be ready. So, too, would the rest of his companions.
Category:Story