Zeppelin Rides

The zeppelin route from Orgrimmar to Thunder Bluff was a favourite of Chieftain Gremkarc of Orgrimmar, and it was obvious he relished providing it with security. It flew like a whale of the skies over Durotar, The Barrens, and Mulgore. It rose above mountain tops and cast threatening shadows over centaur and quilboar. It was a means to sell wares, and the goblins who manned the zeppelin were often good company on the long, scenic journeys.It represented everything he held dear about the Horde.
Corporal Hodges was less pleased to be on the trip, but he had volunteered anyway, for ulterior reasons. He too found that the sometimes red, sometimes yellow, and sometimes green landscapes they were drifting over were things of beauty, and the sunrise upon the horizon even more so, but guard work held a stigma these days for the Forsaken warrior. Being a sentry made you irrelevant.
The goblins, because they had worked all night, were very tired, and they showed this via an aversion to speaking. Even Watcher Tolwe, the ever observant troll whose speciality, as far as Hodges could tell, was cloud gazing had slipped into a quiet stupor.
Kruss Cragshot, the third and final member of Dagger and Totem's trio of guards this morning, had gone to peer down at the Gold Road from the balcony. She had just come back from three weeks in Zul'drak. Compared to that cesspit of depravity and self-destruction, The Barrens was a marvel - a paradise.
It was the perfect scene then, that of a crew and passengers who were too exhausted to eavesdrop, for a Corporal to approach his Chieftain with an issue that had been plaguing the Forsaken's mind for a week or two. So Hodges stalked over to the orc shaman with one hand tightly gripped upon a rope, and waited to be acknowledged.
He waited for some time, because the Chieftain was enjoying the rush of a fresh wind against his face and upper body. Despite how the gale challenged him, Gremkarc held firm, his already muscled body made further heavier by the addition of his well-worn mail armour. Hodges watched patiently. The orc was endeavouring to remain as still as he could - still enough to be employed as a masthead for the airship. In a world of his own, Gremkarc began to snap his sharp, yellow teeth, taunting the wind that sought to knock him off balance.
It dawned on Hodges that, however strong the wind was being to Gremkarc, he wasn't feeling any of it. The way his superior's cloak and hair flailed about would lead one to believe there was a tornado approaching, but there were no signs of any such thing other than the endurance test in front of him. The thought that was occurring to him more and more these days decided to show itself again: "What should I be doing?"
Fortunately, he didn't have to take a shot at answering that, because Gremkarc let out a delighted howl, his face becoming as bright; almost as bright as the rising sun. There was no doubt that the shaman. It was in that bordering-on-psychotic grin that only lessened when he noticed that Hodges was watching, and even then he was evidently having trouble wiping it from his face in order to step back into formality.
'My apologies, Corporal. Air and I were having a scrap,' said the shaman, giving his underling a salute.
'That's... not an issue, Chieftain,' said Hodges, trying his best to be polite. 'I was... just pondering if I could talk to you in confidence about something?'
Gremkarc gave Hodges a hard, searching look. It was the kind of look that he was usually able to hide, behind the eyes of his wolf helm. But that had been damaged, badly so, in a fight with a frost wyrm. The leatherworker he had hired to repair it said it would take weeks to stitch the thing back together, with all the shamanistic magics inherent to it kept intact. It was not to Hodges' advantage that this was so, however. It was clear that his Chieftain wanted him to elaborate.
'It's about leadership, Chieftain. My role as Corporal.'
The shaman offered a sniff. 'Go on, Corporal. Explain.'
Hodges tried to gather his words up to form sentences that wouldn't be grunted at. 'The thing is, sir... Corporals aren't meant to lead entire squads, but that's exactly what I have been doing and, it seems, will be doing.'
'You're used to less responsibility,' said Gremkarc, showing his understanding.
'Precisely, sir,' nodded Hodges. 'Much less responsibility, truth be told. Even as a sergeant, it's rare to get more than four under your command. Yet there I was, back when you were in Feralas, leading around a dozen.'
'That was an unforeseen dilemma, Corporal. It doesn't happen often.' Another sniff. It sounded short, but at least it wasn't a grunt. Those were for the times when Gremkarc was irritated.
'Hopefully not Chieftain, but this Howling Fjord operation...'
'You've got Sergeant Shra with you, friend. She's our best Sergeant - the one with the right head for leadership.'
'Well, yes sir. But she doesn't seem to think I have. She believes that I have a lot to learn.'
'Do you agree?' The question sounded genuine. Hodges couldn't tell what sort of line Gremkarc was taking with this. Truthfully, he only chose his words carefully with two people in this clan: his Chieftain and his Den Mother. They were the ones to whom discipline probably involved using the whip.
'I'm dead, sir. I've been through a lot of unpleasant things. I know the price of mixing up the right from the wrong in battle. I honestly do not think she appreciates that.'
'Have you given her reason to expect otherwise, Hodges?' asked Gremkarc. Again, it was a genuine question. It was as though the orc was seeking a stance to use. Mustn't be arrogant, thought Hodges. Mustn't be bitter. Mustn't look incredulous. A indrawn breath from Watcher Tolwe appeared to indicate that he was about to speak, but nothing came from it. The early morning only had Hodges and Gremkarc to observe.
The Forsaken rubbed his itchy left eye with his bony thumb. 'She hasn't seen much of me, Chieftain. But as I told her, if she warms to me, it'll be on my own terms. I'm not shifting.'
'That's a brave approach to take when you're in a clan of orcs, friend,' said Gremkarc. Was that genuine or not? Was it a threat? It was a long, long way down from this zeppelin, and Hodges assumed that Gremkarc knew it. But still, he wasn't going to shift. He stayed quiet, inviting the orc to make the next move, which he did. 'What exactly don't you want to shift from, Desmond?'
'From Lordaeron, sir.'
'We're not asking you to shift from Lordaeron.'
'It feels like you are, Chieftain. I'm here because Undercity sent me here, to be an Undercity soldier in your clan. I've brought with me my way of doing things. But honestly? I feel that my way of doing things is going to conflict very strongly with yours.'
'Do you often hold to your own terms when you address leaders, friend?' Oh. There. A sign that the big man was getting irritated. It was danger from here on in.
'I fear you've missed my point, Chieftain. If I were to be a grunt, and you were to be my Chieftain, my Stone Guard, my Sergeant, or, woe betide, my Corporal, I would do whatever you asked, such is my wont. But th-'
'Your issue is that you'd rather lead in a way that you're comfortable with, rather than one alien to you,' said Gremkarc, and he had that spot on. It was like a door to enlightenment had opened where previously there had been a brick wall of misunderstanding and apathy. Hodges could only nod. 'Yes, I can empathise with that, Hodges. You don't want to see anyone you're in charge of die, and so you'd rather go by your own instincts.'
'Exactly it, sir. And I fear Sergeant Shra will stymie this.'
'You think so?'
Hodges hestitated. 'Not that I wish to imply she likes to obstruct, Chieftain... nor that it is because of my undeath. But I take it that a lot of the grunts would rather listen to her than me, and because she already has me down as an arsehole of a man, I'm going to end up sadly redundant.'
'I see,' said Gremkarc. He gave a grunt, and then looked around the zeppelin. One of the crew had fallen asleep on his mop. 'I'm not going to do anything about it, however.'
Hodges blinked his glowing yellow eyes, and couldn't hide the bemusement from his face. 'I thought you might have a word, sir. This is exactly the kind of thing you yourself said I should approach you about, when I joined.'
'Yes, Hodges, but only to record what was being said and by whom. The rest, friend, is up to you. What, you think the grunts and sergeants will respect you more if I, Chieftain, form a meeting, or derail an existing one, to say that you are to be respected and heard out? What would that achieve, exactly? You'd be seen as running to the Chieftain.'
'It's standard practice, sir.'
'Not for this clan it isn't,' Gremkarc snapped, but immediately began to rein back. 'Look, Corporal. This clan has two types of strength. It has collective strength, and it has individual strength. Amongst us orcs in particular, this is expected. And if an orc is to listen to you, then you're going to have to show your individual strength. What you show right now, is to expect your leader to ease things out. No. Do you know why I have selected you to co-lead the Howling Ford campaign?'
'Because I have knowledge of the area, thanks to my work in Vengeance Landing.'
'Exactly. Exactly that. You have the knowledge, the expertise, and the drive. You, if you play your rocks right, will inspire those you lead, because you really want to destroy the Vrykul, and whoever else gets in your way. Do you really think I would give you such a position otherwise? To place an unproven Forsaken in co-command of half the clan?'
'Perhaps...?'
'Then you don't know your Chieftain very well, Corporal. Sometimes I don't express my reasoning, because I like to think that I don't have to. I thought you were sharp, Desmond?'
The Corporal shook his head in protest. 'I usually am, Chieftain. But it is rather hard to be sharp when I am supposed to analyse chaos. Am I to take it that you expect the grunts to be all for me when we get this campaign over with, then?'
Gremkarc grunted. 'There's a chance your apprehensive Sergeant will too. I've been told that the Forsaken can be military geniuses, friend. I'm prepared to believe that, but the grunts won't be. It's no use telling them - they always want proof.' He eyed Hodges, and those eyes were almost weary. Perhaps it was just tiredness. They'd be back in Orgrimmar soon. 'Sometimes, Hodges, you have to ignore dissent. By approaching it with fists, you could be setting yourself up for a fall. In battle, grunts rely on your orders. In life, they don't rely on your demands. Understood?'
'Absolutely so, Chieftain. And thank you for the talk. I promise I am not normally this agonised...'
'I can quite believe that,' said Gremkarc shortly. There was a shade of humour in there. Just for a few seconds. Then it went, because Irritant had crawled up the stairs to see what things were like topside. 'Throm'ka, Irritant,' said the Chieftain.
The crab seemed to understand the greeting, and waved a pincer, an act with barely any effort to its name.
'He doesn't seem too impressed with you, Chieftain,' said Hodges.
'Oh, he isn't. Worse than Nazthril, that one.'
'Who?'
'Ah, it doesn't matter.' Gremkarc watched as the crab sauntered towards the edge of the zeppelin, looking out to at the world. 'By the way,' he said, looking sideways at his Corporal, 'We should probably wake the Sky-Captain up, or this ship is going to crash.'
Hodges nodded. 'Should I frighten the living daylights out of him, Chieftain?'
'Yes. But Corporal?'
'Yes Chieftain?'
'If he dies of shock, I'm going to have your head.'
Category:Story