More…

Vendon

The dust was settling at last. The roar of battle began to dull. The attack on Hellfire was a success, but the sound of steel still rang through the Iron Front. A small group of survivors from the Citadel tried to retreat back into the jungle. One by one they were cut down. The last made it nearly as far as the Alliance base. His face was covered in the blood of his brothers, his knee was shattered, but still he squirmed towards salvation. With one last reach, he found himself a small crate of bandages in the dirt. The fighting here was so brutal over the months, that many of the supplies were unaccounted for. The orc made a quick splint out of the wood and bandage, but his attention was brought to a full when he heard the screaming of the last man in his unit. “Its coming…” the orc thought.

With renewed motivation, the orc got back up on his feet and limped through the empty field. The dead were still here? With all this talk of honor and family, why are there so many bodies here?! As these thoughts crossed the orcs mind, he suddenly felt much heavier as a corpse slammed him back to the ground. “No…” The orc flipped off the body of his now dead companion to hear an almost feral growl. The sound of clanking armor and dragging steel was the only things that he could make out. A woman… no, that monster is still coming! “Clawing at the dirt as fast as the orc could muster, he found himself in the mid way trench with no other cover. Under the muck and part of another corpse, an axe! “At least now I have something!” the orc thought.

The orc’s moment of triumph became horror as the scrapping metal sound stopped. The orc flipped other and threw the axe with all his might at his assailant! The axe dug deep into the Night Elf’s shoulder, but she did not move. The orc looked in awe at her… a gaze with ice blue eyes pierced him. The elf raised her arm, sword in hand, and the orc reflexively raised his arm in defense. When he opened his eye again, he saw the stump where his left arm used to be. The orc began to roar in pain but was quickly struck to the ground by the Elf’s open hand. Her boot pressing down on the side of the orcs head, his cries being drowned out in the mud. But as the world started to go dark for the orc, he was suddenly lifted out to eye level with the Night Elf. With and clear and hateful sound to her voice, the elf spoke for the first time, “You won’t die yet…” With what little strength the orc hand, he struggled to free himself from her grasp! With his remaining hand he reached around her back and found a large lump of metal on her belt. With his last defiant act, he ripped it free and proceeded to bludgeon her in the head with it.

The sounds of torture filled the air for the better part of an hour. “More…” the elf said under her breath. Morwel walked away from the now dead orc… her fists drenched in the orcs blood, with small flecks of flesh and bone. Nearby the dead orc, the lump of metal sparked to life with the sound of a tuning frequency. A voice muffled by static came over the radio saying hello. It fell over into the mud as it sank, and as its last transmission went out, the mix of gore and earth covered the Blue Guardians insignia.