Graan and the Sufferer

(( Ok the OOC point of this is that i'm a bit bored and i like writing stories so I figured that i will write a few scenes/stories about what is going on with Graan.... hope you enjoy them! ))

The troll was sitting on a branch of a large tree. He liked the view he was getting, after all, Nagrand is a beautiful land. He smiled as the cool breeze passed by him. He looked down into the shadow of the tree and saw his kitty Echeyakee sleeping there. He could hear the sounds of distant waterfalls. He smiled as he savoured his surroundings.

Tazno sighed as the orc was, once again, knocked off his feet and kicked through the air, landing heavily on ground. Tazno looked from the orc to his opponent, a night elf.

“You think too much, Graan” , remarked the night elf, “clear your mind and fight!”

Graan got up on his feet, breathing hard and covered in a mixture of mud, blood and sweat. As he faced his opponent, he allowed the edge of his hellreaver to rest on the ground as he tried to catch his breath. The night elf attacked suddenly, accelerating from stand still to full sprint in the matter of a second. He swung his right warglaive in a spinning horizontal strike, trying to attack the tired orc on his unguarded side. Instead of bringing his heavy hellreaver up to parry, Graan jumped onto the other side of his weapon, causing the warglaive the meet the resting hellreaver without moving it.

Normally, this would be sufficient to make an opening for Graan to use, but the elf carried a second warglaive in his left hand. He grinned as he attacked the orc with the same attack but from the left. This time, Graan had no way of parrying it since his weapon was locked with the first warglaive. He jumped back at the last second but that was too late, the warglaive's tip caught his flesh right under the ribs, cutting a shallow but bleeding wound.

The night elf faced the tired orc and grinned.

“I think that you've had enough for now,” commented the elf, pointing at the numerous cuts and bruises on the orc's body.

The orc stuck his weapon into the ground and sat down, leaning backwards on its large blade. The elf smiled at Graan, clearly amused and nodded at the watching troll. Tazno jumped down from the tree and examined Graan. He noticed details that he didn't see before, such as many very faint open wounds that appear to have been done by a blade the size of a needle. He knew what the orc was, but even armed with the knowledge, he felt something unsettling about him, more so than about the elf.

“There is no need to nurse me, Taz, I can take care of myself,” Graan told the troll.

The elf picked up Graan's large hat and examined with a grin. “Just how much longer do you intend on wearing this.. thing.?” he asked.

Graan finally caught his breath and became silent. He stood up and faced the elf with his right hand clutching the handle of the hellreaver. The elf raised an eyebrow and threw the hat at Graan. The orc lunged at the elf, catching the hat with his left hand and putting it on his head. The elf met the orc with his twin warglaives. They both grinned as the sound of metal meeting metal rang out across the land.

Tazno sighed as he sat to watch yet another sparring match. He understood what was going on but....
“What 'm I doin' 'ere!?” He asked with some confusion and a hint of dispair.

An orc stood outside the Legion Hold. He faced it and sighed.

“So my battle didn't change anything.”, the orc said to his troll companion,”Already there are two new pit lords there and scores of demons”.

“Whatcha gonna be doin' 'bout dat, mon?” asked the troll.

The orc remained silent. A terrormaster spotted them and started to charge at the orc. The orc appeared to completely ignore the charging demon. His companion looked troubled at this and started to fidget nervously as the demon drew close.

“Ya mite wanna do sometin'...”the troll started to say.

But still the orc didn't move. His companion knew that the charging demon was above his capabilities and even his friend needed a sword the last time he fought them... something which they both happened to be lacking at the time.

“Graan!” shouted the troll as the demon reached his friend.

The terrormaster swung almost vertically at Graan with its twisted two-handed sword. The orc lazily dodged it by leaning backwards. The demon's sword cut into the ground and, before it could be freed, Graan put a foot on it and leaned, preventing it from moving. The orc grinned as his fist rammed into the demon's stomach, making it bend from pain and winding it. He then pulled his fist back an inch and opened it with his palm facing the demon. He muttered something and a blade of Fel shot from his open palm and into the demon, cutting it in half and killing it.

The troll whistled as he saw this. For the last three weeks, he watched Graan train both in combat and the usage of Fel magic. This was one of Graan's stronger spells but the orc did indeed suck at controlling the Fel and using it as magic. His attacks wouldn't over-power a warlock. After all, he saw a mage do the same feat once but she didn't need to punch the demon... she barely even noticed that the demon was there before it burst into flames at a small wave of her hand.

“He was right, Taz,” Graan commented drily, “I really should stick with close combat.”

“Da Sufferah will be pissed wen 'e finds out dat we came 'ere, boss.” Taz reminded the orc.

Graan grinned when he heard this, already the thought of battle becoming more of a pleasure than a dread. “I've always wanted to see him fight while angry. Let us go, Taz.”