No Witnesses

Kanta spit out the taste of the pepper as he left the Templar’s Verdict encampment, the sound of laughter echoing through his tall ears before the became dull whispers in the midst of the warring jungle.

 

The Justicar’s words rang through his thoughts. How she seemed so hesitant to be around him with Felmoon and the Fel-tainted pup that he had taken in. He looked beside him to look over the wolves who walked by him, the pup quickly following closely with it’s father while the larger, more fierce wolf kept pace with the Marksman.

 

“She is a fool to think that I cannot save these creatures.” He thought. “These creatures know these jungles, they know what the Iron Horde has done and what curse Gul’dan has put upon this land.”

 

He snarled, his own silver eyes hidden behind the cowl of his chain-mail hood. He wondered what Anarial would think of his recent plan, of all he had been doing lately. She had gone home to visit the children and rest for sometime. The jungle had been rough for them both and taken a lot out of them from just living on rations. While Kanta had wanted to rest as much as he complained of, he intended to see that this Fel corruption and the Legion were fought off.

 

The wolf snarled and broke Kanta’s train of thought, looking down to follow Felmoon’s vision to an Iron Horde patrol. Two orcs on foot, and one on an armored wolf of spikes. Of the trio of orcs, only one looked to be fel corrupted with the massive spikes coming out from his shoulders, as well as his arms and legs.

 

“Quiet, wait for my signal.” Kanta spoke in his native tongue to the wolf, who seemed to understand Kanta perfectly as he grabbed his bow and quickly brought an arrow to the bowstring. He clicked his tongue to Felmoon who began making his way through the brush of the jungle, easy for hunters and predators to sneak up on their prey.

 

As the wolf lunged on one, Kanta’s arrow pierced the rider, the wolf buckling and snarling as it’s rider fell limp atop of it, howling out. The Marksman quickly followed up on his kill, grabbing the sharpened knife from his belt and cut the rider loose before grabbing the buckling wolf by it’s scruff. His silver eyes flashed quickly, which shot fear through the wolf and sent it cowering into the brush.

 

Kanta smirked briefly as he heard the drop of the other orc, but his victory was not celebrated as a chaos bolt hit him in the shoulder, causing searing pain. He turned quickly, ripping his hood off and staring down the fel-tainted orc.

 

“You fool! You dare challenge the might of the Legion!” The orc rumbled, fel taint almost coming from his mouth like smoke as he readied another spell.

 

Kanta took this time to ready his specialty arrow — the same rune marked arrow head that he had crafted in use to hunt down spellcasters. Felmoon back at his side.

 

“Let’s see how much blood you will spill, orc.” The arrow launched towards the orc’s hands, pinning the casting hands together and dismissing the magic that he had concentrated on, the orc letting out a scream of pain as he dropped to his knees.

 

A smirk curled to the Marksman’s lips, showing his fangs as he laughed, dropping his bow and gripping his shoulder. “Damn, that rune magic pays for itself… “ He muttered, shaking his head as he began to saunter on over to the orc, pulling the knife from it’s place on his belt once more, twirling it in the palm of his hand.

 

The orc struggled, sweat dripping down the sides of his temples as there looked to be some sort of “humanity” left inside of him, judging by his please and change of voice. That didn’t phase the Marksman however. The Marksman glared down at him, squatting down in front of him and brushing the hair out from his face, and placed the knife to the orc’s cheek.

 

“Information.” Was all he demanded.

 

“I-I will tell you what I know! I swear by the elements!” The orc rattled off, still in a rather normal voice for an orc. “Gul’dan awaits your armies and has plans to summon armies of demons! He has fel constructs, and plans to break Hellscream!”

 

Kanta stared at him, narrowing his eyes as he applied a bit more pressure of his knife. “Quick to spill information, orc. What else do you know?”

 

“What I tell you is all I know! Gul’dan is powerful and you will not be able to defeat him, he knows of your strengths and weak– AGHHHHHHH!”

 

Kanta growled, almost feral like as he plunged his knife into the neon green eyes of the orc, plunging and pulling the knife out repeatedly before the orc fell to the ground. He wiped the blood from his face and stood, giving the body a swift kick down the slope that led to the pools of liquid fel lava below.

 

“Rot, creature. You know nothing of that. You are nothing but a weakness.” Kanta snorted, wiping his blade on the leather of his leggings and looked around. No scent, nor sight of anyone near the path. Good.

 

No watchful eyes, no Alliance, no Horde. No Templars.