The Warsong Sergeant continued to read as Nazrug and the Outrider captain sat at the great oak table in Kargathia, the mood was dark, the atmosphere grim...
“Thirteen injured from the Nightsong camp, six dead. Four injured from Splintertree, twenty dead. Sixteen injured from the Lumbercamp guard, none dead.
The humans managed to escape with their injured, Elder.”
The Captain’s gaze fell on Nazrug for a second. The shaman was deep in thought, but the images going through his mind were far from tranquil. The old shaman says nothing, he only nods. The Captain pushes his chair out and stands. The scrape of wood against the cold stone floor echoes, his voice thunders as he speaks.
“The humans have shown us that they wish to involve themselves in our affairs in Ashenvale, clearly the pink skins have grown backbone and have come to aid their Kaldorei allies, no doubt from Theramore in the Barrens.
The Elder Shaman from the Warsong Blades and the Warbringers from the Outriders have decided it is time to strike at the heart of the human world. Our force will be arriving from Orgrimmar tomorrow at midday, fresh veterans from Northrend supplied by General Katalmach Duskclaw himself will cleave these pathetic iron-clad piglets apart.
The third evening of this week our forces will arrive in human lands, we will fight our way deep into the human lands and leave their broken bodies for the carrion birds.
Lok’tar Ogar! Our lives for the Horde!”
The Sergeant repeats the honour slogan, nods and then leaves the hall.
The Outrider Captain sits back down next to Elder Nazrug in silence. Nazrug grinds his teeth slowly before speaking.
“The push into Ashenvale just got more complex than before, we cannot send in the full force of the Horde when we know the pink skins will come at us from the south.”
The Captain nods, “Perhaps we can persuade them not to get involved again.”
[ Post edited by Nazrug ]