A Warrior's Story

"Having no means of crossing this life, I make swordsmanship my hiding place, sadly relying on it..." - Muneyoshi

“Hold the roof!” bellowed the orc as human and dwarven blood mixed in the gutters and ran down to drip off the edges of the roof of Menthil Keep.

“Sythegar! Cover that door!” Gorfrunch Smashblade was pointing at the entrance to the roof area and motioning for Yagyu to wade into the Alliance fighters who were pouring out of it. Yagyu roared with fury as he charged into the fray hacking and slicing at the enemies that surrounded him. Suddenly he felt his body go into a violent convulsion. He shook all over and could no longer even hold onto his axe. Falling to the floor he saw the Alliance forces grin with glee at the sight of his prostrate form lying helpless. Somewhere is the distance he heard a voice…

“Yagyu, get up! Get up!”

As he looked in the direction of the sound he noticed he was no longer on the roof in Menethil. The blue sky above was replaced by wooden pillars…he was inside the Inn at Stonard. Shadiel stood above him, shaking his shoulder.

“Get up Yag! You’re going to be late to the training session. Hurry up. Get your armor.”

Behind the mage stood an orc wearing a brown robe and a red shirt. The orc smiled at Yagyu and nodded as he held the Sythegar’s chest plate out to him.

“Thanks Shad.” Yagyu grumbled wearily. Taking the armor from the orc’s hands Yagyu paused a moment. “Wut wuz yer name agin?”

“Bok’theg, Sythegar.” Replied the orc with a strange smirk. “I was instructed to ready your armor so that you would lose no time. Warchief Ashenrock is impatient with…how shall we say…’late-comers’?”

Yagyu glowered at the snide remark but said nothing. He was tired and didn’t feel like training but he knew it was his duty. The Clan demanded his attention and there he was ready to oblige. But was this still his clan? His Chieftan…his boss…his leader…Gor was dead. Now this new ‘Warchief’ demanded his obedience. So much had happened in his absence and upon his return the demands of training a new crop of Grots had left him little time to think about the new Warchief. But now he was thinking about it. And he didn’t know where he stood. By duty he should have died with his Clan leader or in vengeance of him. Both options had been denied him; one by fate, the other by decree. He felt helpless and it angered him to no end. Why should he stay with a Clan that seemed no longer to have any place for him? He had to do something. He decided he would travel. Perhaps a visit to Gor’s grave was in order. Maybe there he could find some direction.

“…and if not?” he asked himself silently. What would he do if he could not answer the question of his role in the Blacktooth Grin.

Yag finished buckling his armor and stomped out the door to his waiting worg. As he left, Bok’theg watched him saddle up and ride out of Stonard. Absently the younger orc fingered the darkly glowing ring around his finger. Perhaps “he” was right. Maybe this Sythegar was the key. Silently he walked back to a corner by the fire and picked up the dusty tome he had been studying and sat to read.

“So what news have you for me, initiate?”

Neeru Fireblade stared into the red eyes of the young orc warlock standing in front of him. Fireblade’s gaze was powerful and the orc shuddered inwardly and dropped his eyes to the ground.

“The Sythegar of the Blacktooth Grin has taken a leave of absence. I believe he heads for Outlands.” Replied the Burning Blade initiate. “He is still haunted by the death of the Clan lord and he does not yet trust the new Warchief.” The orc hesitated a moment before he spoke his next words. Those words would either bring praise or swift and painful rebuke so he chose them carefully. “I believe….we can turn him against the clan and this tauren Chieftan.” The orc braced for the blow that was about to fall upon his cheek but it never came. Instead he looked up to see Fireblade deep in thought.

Fireblade stroked his scraggly beard and smiled as he pondered this new development; finally he spoke.

“Yes…yes…I believe we can use this to our advantage. Perhaps this is the opportunity the Shadow Council has been looking for. To bring the might of the Blacktooth Grin, and possibly the entire Dread Horde under the control of the Shadow Council would indeed be a coup! There is already open hostility between them and Thrall and they would never suspect that we were pulling the strings. This is a chance to finally break the independence of the Blacktooth Grin and bring them back under the control of the Burning Leigon!” Neeru Fireblade looked again at the orc with a renewed fire in his eyes. “Excellent work Initiate! This will not go unrewarded! For now though, I want you to gain the trust of this Sythegar. We must penetrate his mind if our plan is to be successful. Go now and report back to me when you have found him.” With a wave of his hand, Fireblade dismissed the orc who scampered off and up the ramp out of the Cleft of Shadows.

“Though I may win in swordfights,
I am a stone boat unable to cross the sea called life.” – Muneyoshi

The road to Garadar was a long one from the Dark Portal. Of course, the fastest way to travel was by wyvern but Yagyu had preferred to ride Grimfang on this journey. It gave him time to think and for the first time in his life, he felt he needed to do just that. He thought back on his previous shameful outburst in Stonard and regretted his actions. It was not the Grin’s fault that he was so conflicted nor should he have allowed his emotions to control him like that. The episode had only reinforced his need for this trip. Perhaps, on this trip, he would be able to learn to control his rage rather than let it control him.

As he crossed the mountain pass the sun peeked out from behind the ever-present clouds that covered the skies of Zangaramarsh and seeing the trees and green hills he knew he was in Nagrand. Taking the right fork in the road Yagyu headed for Garadar and the gravestone that he had come to visit. Riding through the gates he was slightly amused to see the orcs guarding the entrance. These were strong orcs, no doubt but they seemed simple to him and he felt, more than ever the weight of his responsibilities to the Clan.

Rounding the corner he saw the simple stone obelisk rising up out of the ground and he suppressed the small lump in his throat. Dismounting Grimfang, Yagyu approached the final resting place of Gorfrunch Smashblade. Reaching into his saddlebags he pulled out a small pouch and sat in front of the stone. He carefully unwrapped the pouch and removed a small piece of incense and his flint and tinder. Lighting the incense, Yag closed his eyes and prayed.

"I ain’t never been one ta’ ask fer much…” he prayed to the spirits of all the orcish warriors that had fallen before him, “…but I’z askin fer help now. I’m lost an’ I can’t help my Clan if’n I can’t even help myself. So I’z askin fer yew ta help me. Show me the way.”

The wind blew through the air rustling the leaves in the trees but Yagyu heard nothing. No sounds, no voices, no ‘inner-guidance’. Opening his eyes sadly he stared at the monument for awhile longer before getting up and heading to the center of Garadar. As he walked, his mace banged uncomfortably off of his back and he cringed everytime it did. He hated the damn thing. It was nothing more than a big stick and Yag longed for the feel of his axe. In a rage he yanked the maul off his back and threw it to the ground, only to hear a laugh from his right side. It was Garrosh Hellscream.

“Can’t seem ta get the hang of it can you, orc?” said the Mag’har chieftan.

Yagyu glowered but said nothing. His rage prevented the formulation of words. Seeing his obvious intensity Garrosh softened his tone a bit.

“If you want to learn, go see Lantresor of the Blade. If there is an orc alive who knows about weaponry it’s him. He is no mace specialist mind you but his teaching is…invaluable.” With that, Garrosh went back to his conversation with the other orcs near the bonfire.

Yagyu thought for a moment and then picked up the mace and slung it over his back again. Why not? He thought to himself. There was nothing better to do anyway and he could certainly use the training. He would seek out Lantresor of the Blade and see if he couldn’t learn something.

Bok’theg was not happy. He disliked travel and Nagrand at night was at the bottom of a long list of places he did not care to visit. And yet, there he stood, in Garadar watching these moronic peons go about their worthless daily lives. He should be back in Stonard eating, drinking, and practicing his use of necromancy. But no! He was here trying to prove to that snooty blood elf mage that he was trustworthy. He had come upon the Sythegar late in the afternoon just as he was about to head out of Garadar. Of course Yagyu was a bit suspicious at first but Bok’theg was part of the Clan and therefore Yag had no obvious reason not to believe him. But more than his presence, it was the warlock’s words which burned into the Sythegar’s brain. The warlock relayed that he had come out of concern for the Sythegar’s well being and simply wished to be of service however he might need him.

“Sythegar Shadiel wanted someone to be sure you were alright and I volunteered to go, though the journey was dangerous for me.” Bok’theg said. Seeing the time was ripe, the warlock slipped his next words in carefully. “Of course, I may face the same punishment as you Sythegar.”

Bok’theg looked at the ground as he awaited Yagyu’s reaction which was not long in coming.

“Punishment? Wutreya talkin’ about?” Yag asked, his voice laced with suspicion.

“Nothing, Sythegar…it’s just…well…I hate to say it but I fear the Warchief’s retribution. He was greatly angered at your departure and threatened not only to have you demoted but to have any who helped you branded as traitors! Of course, the other Sythegar’s calmed him down but he was greatly angered and almost….fearful.” Bok’theg eyed Yag carefully from the corner of his eye to gauge his reaction. Seeing the rage rise up in Yagyu’s eyes, the warlock continued his manipulation.

“I believe he feared that you would go to seek revenge upon that treacherous blood elf who murdered Gorfrunch.” Bok’theg could see that these words had the desired effect and so he dared to venture a bit further. “I even think he may have feared that you would discover something out here…some secret…although what, I cannot say.” Bok’theg’s eyes had the sheen of innocence and the Sythegar, hearing the words his own emotions had always feared were true, was swayed.

Yagyu slumped to the ground as if drained of life as he took in the warlock’s words. He had no conflicts yet with the new Warchief, and yet, he HAD protected Arkonn. And he did not seem to be aggressively pursuing the wars. Now the Sythegar’s mind worked against him. He recalled how Bellmont and Shadiel had often tried to calm him in his hatred of Arkonn. And wasn’t it Bellmont himself whose loyalties to the Forsaken Queen were as strong as those to the Clan? And weren’t the Forsaken sworn allies of Thrall? Could it be possible Ashenrock was trying to rid the Clan of all those who followed the old ways and make peace with the ‘Peacechief’?

Bok’theg could see the questions forming in the Sythegar’s mind and wisely he held his tongue. He needed nothing to push the orc over the edge. His own mind would do the work for him. Finally Yagyu stood up and announced. “I’m goin’ out. Yew wait here, an’ when I get back, report to me if anyone comes lookin’, ya got that?” Bok’theg saluted crisply and watched as the Sythegar saddled up Grimfang and rode out the gate.

Relaxing Bok’theg sat down to pull the stopper out of the jug of bourbon he had brought along with him. Taking a great swig of the liquor, he replaced the stopper in the jug. This job might be easier than he thought!

"To reach a house you must first enter the gate. Learning is the gate not the house. Don't mistake the gate for the house. Learning is the gate to reaching the Way." - Munenori

Yagyu rode slowly back along the road to Garadar, deep in thought as he replayed the days events in his mind. He certainly didn’t feel any smarter for having spoken to Lantresor of the Blade but he was glad he had met the old orc. Directness is an orcish trait in thought, word, and deed. Even so, there were nuances a novice could easily miss or mistake as shallow. Lantresor was such an orc. A veteran of the Wars and one of the last true independent Blademaster’s he spoke with an air that suggested a Shaman’s depth of understanding. Talking to the old warrior had given him many things to think about.

The Boulderfist Ogres had not liked his presence but there was little they could do about it. The one ogre who had tried to prevent his approach to Lantresor had received a crushing mace-blow to the skull. Lantresor had simply looked on in mild curiosity and waited for Yag’s inevitable self-introduction. Yagyu bowed respectfully and the old Blademaster returned the slightest of nods.

“I’m told ya might be able to help me.” Yagyu said as he eyed the old orc. “I’m an orc of the axe an’ I wantcha to teach me ta use this club.” Yagyu held up the mace contemptuously.

“You seem to handle it well enough.” Lantresor replied motioning at the dead ogre. Lantresor stared hard into Yagyu’s eyes “Why don’t you tell me what it is that you truly seek from me?”

Yagyu did not respond immediately and Lantresor could almost see the conflict in the orc’s mind. Wordlessly he turned on his heel and walked back to a small stone bench and retrieved a cup and a packet of bread. Sitting cross-legged on the ground he pulled a piece of the bread off and began to eat. Yagyu stood awkwardly for a moment until Lantresor had looked up at him, his keen eyes silently bidding him to sit.

Yag sat in front of the old Blademaster and took a bit of the offered bread and washed it down with the water from the cup. Lantresor did not ask any questions but instead, patiently waited for Yagyu to speak.

“I want purpose again. I’ve lost myself.” He chewed the bread slowly as he opened up to the old orc. “My Clan Lord is dead. His grave sits in Garadar. My Clan now serves a new Warchief who I don’t know an’ don’t trust.” The Sythegar was about to say more but Lantresor interrupted him.

“..and now you don’t know where you fit in with your clan?” Yag’s silence confirmed his feelings. Lantresor thought for a moment and then spoke. “I cannot give you the answers you seek orc. The road a warrior travels is his own. The difference between a Blademaster and common thug is not in his use of the blade, but in how he acts while on that road.” Lantresor stared hard at Yagyu and then asked “It is no easy thing, to walk this road. But you are not unseasoned….you know this already. What I must decide is whether you are ready to learn.” The old warrior stared with an intensity that burned into Yagyu’s very soul. It had been so long since the Sythegar had felt so uncertain. He didn’t know if he could learn or not but his steely resolve drove him to make the only decision possible for one of his kind, he would learn or he would die trying.

Yagyu nodded solemnly as he swallowed the last of the bread.

Lantresor looked at Yag before grabbing another hunk of bread. He pointed a gnarled finger and said “We shall see orc…and I will be your judge. First, seek out Galvangar in the Mountains of Alterac. He is Blademaster in service to the Lord of the Frostwolf clan. He may be able to teach you something. If so, return to me and we will see if you have truly learned anything at all.”

Yagyu could see the gates of Garadar in the distance. It was a long way to go into Alterac and the orc cared little for it. It was the realm of Thrall. After all didn’t the Frostwolf Clan serve the Peacechief? But somewhere in the recesses of his mind, he innately felt a trust for Lantresor. So he would go to Alterac and see what there was to be learned.

Ashenrock sat meditating on the events that had passed him by during the last few days. The Blacktooth Grin were coming together nicely. The Officers had been doing an excellent job of rallying the troops and they had all accepted their assigned tasks. Most were excelling at their new positions, all except Yagyu.

Ashenrock knew very little of the Orc. It was by reputation, and recommendation, that Rock had kept Yagyu within his inner circle. He was impressed by what he'd seen so far from him, but he could tell that the death of Gorfrunch rested heavy on his shoulders. He had seen the look in Yagyu's eyes when, at his coronation, Arkonn arrived in support with the rest of Suncrown.

"Sir?" Shadiel appeared at his doorway. "I'm sorry to interupt, but I thought you should know that Yagyu has taken leave."

An odd coincidence?

Ashenrock rose and directed his gaze upon the Elf. "Leave? Do we know for where and why?" Shadiel shook his head slowly. "No, sir. He simply told me that he had business in Outland."
Rock thought for a moment "He's gone to see Gorfrunch. Hopefully he can put the past behind him then. When he returns, I'll see what I can do to make this transition easier for him. Thank you, Shadiel."

"One more thing, sir. I've received a report that the warlock Bok'theg followed his trail shortly after Yagyu's departure. He didn't report out though." Ashenrock grimaced. "I don't trust that warlock. He's a two-faced character."
"I took the liberty of sending Scyrax to trace him. I hope that's all right." Shadiel said. Ashenrock didn't like having a spy on Yagyu's heels as the last thing he wanted was for him to think that he wasn't trusted. It was the smart thing to do though. If there was going to be a problem, the Grin should know about it first hand. "A good idea. Let's hope it was an unnecessary precaution. Let me know if anything else comes up." Shadiel bowed his head and left.

Ashenrock turned his gaze to the window. He was sure that something was wrong...he just didn't know what. Therazane provided few answers these days...and the druid was becoming less sure of the future of his faith. He decided to let his gut make the decision. Hopefully Yagyu would find his answers soon. Rock sat back down to meditate on this new situation.

Bok’theg sat in chair in the corner of the Inn at Stonard watching the events unfold before him and enjoying the taste of some juicy Halaa berries. He felt a warm feeling come over him and he knew it was the satisfaction of a job well done. He had successfully planted the seed of suspicion in Sythegar Yagyu’s mind and the idiot tauren Warchief’s own words were only making it worse! He chuckled to himself as he watched the orc react to Ashenrock’s claims of hating secrets within the clan. He couldn’t have chosen better words for the cow if he had scripted them himself. The coup-de-gras came as he saw Yagyu catch sight of the medallion he had so carefully placed in Ashenrock’s pack. That had been pure luck. He was actually thinking that Ashenrock would find it and ask about it and that word would eventually get back to the Sythegar but for Yagyu to see it himself, was even better than he could have hoped! It took all of the warlock’s inner strength not to burst out in laughter as he watched the orc kick open the flap of Ashenrock’s pack and throw a nasty glance towards the tauren who stood arguing with the two brothers of that other idiot orc hunter. As the thought crossed his mind, Bok’theg became suddenly more serious.

He must be careful. Perhaps his plan to manipulate the Sythegar was working so far but there were others to consider as well. The mage Shadiel seemed to watch him with suspicious eyes and he was under no illusions that the blood elf trusted him. The hunter Vord was loyal but the depth of his own problems, now compounded by the arrival of his two brothers, should take care of that problem. And what of the other orc, Crunck? This one was as dumb as a box of rocks but often a simpleton has been the undoing of great deeds. He made a mental note to watch out that Crunck was not given an opportunity to discover his scheme. He would have to be more careful in future when meeting with Fireblade. Of course there was not much chance of many Grin seeing him in Orgimmar! At least something worked to his advantage.

Bok’theg sat back and watched with glee as Ashenrock, Shadiel, Crunck and the two new orcs Jyuugo and Tagashi all sat arguing. He watched Yagyu say his goodnights and mention that he would be going to Alterac. This would have to be reported to Fireblade. Yagyu had not mentioned this to him in Nagrand and it was clear that he was still not fully trusted by the orc. He would have to think of some other way to keep tabs on him. Perhaps another Grin member could be corrupted? Bok’theg smiled inwardly as he popped a Halaa berry into his mouth. He relished the thought of playing with the minds of the clan and it made him start to laugh at his own cleverness. Chuckling to himself he sucked in seed from the berry and almost choked himself to death there in the corner as the rest of Grin continued arguing, oblivious to his predicament.

Crunck sat out side the inn talking to his pet bomb GLaDoS shortly after Bok'theg had left.
"I don't trust him Crunck, you saw the way he toyed with *louder* Felora's emotions.
"Crunck know GLaDoS but what can Crunck do? Pinky Shad said not to smash him."
"I will keep a eye on our friend, you make sure to keep a eye on *louder* Yagu, you and him seem to have some thing in common simmilure to you and Twobears."
With that Crunck noded at GLaDoS and went back into the inn.

As Shadiel departed for his room he noticed Bok'theg smiling like the cat who had just pounced on the mouse. He flashed the mage a delighted grin and a mock bow which of course both were returned immediately in kind.

"The warlock is good." Shadiel admitted to himself. Good enough that if Shadiel ever outright accused the crafty orc of anything Yagyu would be pushed more and more away from the Grin. There was nothing that he could do for his friend and former commander in any overt way. Any manipulations on a subtle nature would surely be picked up by the Warlock and called to Yagyu's attention. All Shadiel could do is make sure that Scyrax dissallowed the Warlock any severe breach of security. Bok'theg knowing that he was constantly watched might slip up, and therefore he wouldn't be able to work his contentious actions with impunity.

Sighing to himself Shadiel realized that all he could do himself was see to his friends physical safety on the journeys that he had planned out. To be there for him as all Grin were there for each other.

"Life was more simple when all I had to think about was me."

The Sythegar mage packs a few bags and then lays down on his bed. He glances at the Cabinet where certain artifacts are stored, shakes his head and then clears his mind for a sleep that doesn't come quickly enough. "We go to Alterac tomorrow, I shall need my rest."

Yagyu was tired. The battle the previous evening had drained him of energy. It had not gotten off to good start either. Many Grin were late to the formation and had nearly missed the battle. The resulting lack of numbers had proved costly in their initial rushes upon the Keepers. Finally the young Warchief had called for a retreat to Hammerfall. The Sythegar knew in his heart that it was the only thing to be done but the events of the previous week weighed heavily in his mind as did his converstations with the warlock Bok’theg. He had not initially trusted the warlock but so far everything he had said had been reinforced by actions from the Warchief himself. Finding the Ogrimmar token in Ashenrock’s pack had only served to cement the warlock’s words.

As he rode along the highlands, Yagyu wondered whether this might not have been part of the tauren’s plan all along. What if he had forewarned the Keepers of their attack? That would certainly have pleased Thrall! And now the calling of the retreat back to Hammerfall…but no, Yag thought, even he himself had called for the retreat…but…what if that was exactly what Ashenrock had intended all along? To set the stage so that Yagyu had no choice but to support a retreat! Could that be possible? The implications made his head swim. He was not cut out for subtlety. As he rode he thought about Lantresor’s words, “Go to Alterac. Seek out Galvanar.”

He had to do that soon. The more he stayed with the Grin in his confused state, the greater a liability he became. He felt the rage building inside of him as he approached the gates to Hamemerfall. Up ahead he saw a wounded Keeper running in his direction. With a roar, Yagyu leapt from his worg and charged the human, smashing wildly with his mace. The human was caught unaware but he was resilient. He parried Yag’s blows and caught the orc under the arm with a well timed blow. Yag fell to one knee and barely was able to parry a chop from the Keeper’s sword. Then he felt a cool, calming effect cover him. He looked to his right and saw the Raider Londra casting a healing spell on him. Recovering quickly, Yagyu swung the mace and it broke through the human’s shield crushing his skull. He saluted the priest as the both mounted up and headed into the gates of Hammerfall and prepared for the inevitable counterattack. Finally the Grin had managed to fight their way back into the Keep but it had come at a great cost.

As he sat in his quarters in Stonard he heard a commotion outside the door. Looking out he saw the warlock Bok’theg talking to Shadiel and Felora. He couldn’t hear their words but it seemed the druid and the mage were unhappy. He wondered if he should interrupt but his weariness overcame him and he trudged back to his cot. It would have to wait. When he returned from Alterac, he would make time to talk.

Neeru Fireblade looked Bok’theg with a mixture of thoughtfulness and scorn. So far the warlock had done well, but he had yet to do anything to bring the Sythegar or the Blacktooth Grin closer to the Shadow Council.

“I expect more from you warlock.” The orc’s eyes burned like fire into the warlock’s as he pointed a gnarled finger at his face. “Things are moving too slowly. The Sythegar MUST be turned, and quickly! Do you think the Council will wait forever?”

Bok’theg bowed in humility. “I am encountering trouble from the other officers. The mage Shadiel suspects my every word and I doubt the druid Felora could be turned at all. In fact the only officer who has been the remotest help, is the Warchief himself! His words seem to fit what I tell the Sythegar and his suspicion grows daily. The evidence I planted was found but we need something else. Something to push him over the edge.”

Fireblade looked at the warlock grimly and said “Well I suggest you think of something quickly. The Council does not tolerate failure.”

Ashenrock kicked in the door to his quarters. The battle had almost been a total failure. The guild was sloppy and he had only himself to blame. He sat on the edge of his bed and sighed heavily. Too many late-comers, and far too many no-shows. He very much needed to settle his mind. He stood and reached for one of his packs. As he opened it, a glimmering object caught his eye. He reached down and picked up the object. As he realized what it was that he held in his hand, he became quite puzzled. "How did this get here?" he wondered out loud. This symbol was a testament to Thrall's power.

Ashenrock crushed the medal with his bare hand. It cut into his palm and stung him hard. Blood trickled down his hand and hit the floor. He gritted his teeth in anger. Finally he threw the symbol against the wall. Rock suppressed the urge to roar out...and again clenched his fists. Who would dare put such garbage on his belongings...was it a message? Suddenly a voice came from his doorway. "Ya be lookin' tense, `ol friend." Ashenrock knew that voice all to well...and it was a welcome sound indeed. He jumped up to greet her. "Primal! What brings you so far from Revantusk? Is there a problem?" Ashenrock stammered. It was rare for the leader of the Revantusk tribe to leave her people behind. "Calm down ya damn fool. I be hearin' dat yo brodder be missin'. I came ta offa the help o' da tribe personally." Rock bowed his head. "Your offer is certainly welcome, but my father...and the Betrayed...have gone after him. I fear that I have other problems here." Primal Torntusk eyed the tauren carefully. "I saw da medallion ya be hatin' on so much dere. It be a symbol o' da Burnin' Blade legion. Whatcha be doin' wit it Rock? I know ya gots no love for da greenskin sittin' in da Orc lair." Ashenrock sighed heavily again. "I'm afraid I'm not sure. Too many strange things have been going on here. The tribe cannot help me with Demonaro, but perhaps you could lend me aid solving exactly how this thing got in my backpack?". Torntusk smiled broadly. "Dontcha be worryin' ya big cow. I know jus' who can be helpin' ya wit dis. I'll send `im to ya...he be here in less den a week." Ashenrock's curiosity was certainly peaked. He could only think of one troll besides Jin'tal that would work for this job. "Things just keep getting more and more intersting." he muttered to himself.

Loyalty is said to be important in the pledge between lord and retainer. Though it may seem unobtainable, it is right before your eyes. If you once set yourself to it, you will become a superb retainer at that very moment. - Tsunetomo

The battle in Alterac was not going well. As night elves, dwarves, humans and draenei poured in both doorways to the Iceblood bunker, Captain Galvangar let out roar that shook the walls. The sound of his booming voice and the flashing of his blade made the Alliance in the room scatter in fear. The small contingent of Blacktooth Grin had followed their Sythegar to the bunker without a question. He was there to speak with Galvangar as Lantresor had instructed, but with the Alliance assault, conversation would have to wait.

Yagyu looked at Crunck and the two charged into the mass of Alliance as the entered the door hacking and slashing at anything that moved. Herra and Yalim stood in the back healing the two warriors as dwarven hammers crashed onto their armor. Seeing an opening, Zalindae snuck around behind a night-elf hunter and drove her blades deep into the elf’s back. The elf screamed collapsed in a heap just as Crunck charged into him and delivered a killing blow on top of the elf’s cranium.
Soon the attack slowed curiously and Galvangar, veteran of the Alterac wars was quick to react.
“Get to the towers! I’ll hold them off here! GO! NOW!” he shouted at the Grin as his blade flashed in the cramped quarters. The small group, trained to obey orders immediately ran outside the bunker towards the nearby towers where more masses of Alliance forces were trying to take control of the tower.

For hours the battle raged back and forth but finally the Horde defense broke the Alliance lines and quiet returned to Frostwolf. The small group of Grinners stood breathless and panting in the afternoon Alterac sun amidst a litter of fresh corpses. Yag called for Grimfang and mounted up.

“Consolidate the area Grin. I’m headed back to speak with Galvangar. I’ll return shortly. Saluting, he rode off towards Iceblood. Glavangar stood where Yag had left him as a few attendants scurried about cleaning up the bodies and reinforcing the barricades that had been damaged in the attack. Galvangar studied the Sythegar as he approached.

“So now tell whut brings ya here, orc.” Galvangar said with a grin.

Yagyu stood in front of the warrior and said. “Lantresor told me I should come here and speak with you. He said there was something you could teach me.”

Galvangar looked at him with a steady gaze. “Your group seemed well disciplined and fought gud enough. Whut is it yer lookin’ for?”

Yagyu shrugged. He had been looking for some kind of magical words of wisdom and none seemed to be forthcoming. He stared dumbly at the Blademaster.

Galvangar gave him a measured glance and asked “Yer group was gud in that fight…ya know…we’z in need of good blades down here to bolster the Frostwolf clan. I’d be happy ta put in a good word for ya’s with Drek.”

Yagyu pondered the offer. The Frostwolves were an honorable clan. One that Grimnir himself hailed from. With his recent troubles in the Grin and the state of Ashenrock, it would certainly make his life easier to accept Galvangar’s offer. Galvangar said nothing but simply peered at the orc with a penetrating gaze that seemed to read him better than if he had explained himself. Finally, Yagyu straightened his head and smiled at Galvangar. “Sorry brother, but I have a Clan.” He pointed to his tabard proudly, then he said, “Besides, we’z short a few hands ourselves. We could always use a Blademaster to put the fear of our ancestors into the Alliance.”

(cont.)

Galvangar looked at Yagyu for a minute then broke into a hearty chuckle. Yagyu looked at the orc in confusion. Had he said something funny? Galvangar, seeing Yagyu’s reaction, stifled his guffaws, and began to explain.

“I spoke with Lantresor before ya got here, dummy! Yew think you’da got this close if I hadn’t known yew wuz comin’? He sent ya down here as a test.” The old warrior now stared intently at the Sythegar. “Yew didn’t get yer rank by bein’ a peon. An there ain’t nuthin’ I can teach yew about that yew don’ already know.” He put his hand on Yagyu’s shoulder.

“Loyalty is the most important thing in serving a Clan, orc. But yew already knew that. Lantresor just wanted me ta make sure ya didn’t ferget.” Glavangar looked straight into Yagyu’s eyes. “Whutever troubles yew got in yer Clan, it’s yer responsibility ta sort it out. Yew wanna quit…” he pointed north along the road “…yew might as well head up there and git yerself killed right now. Cuz yew won’t be able ta live with yerself if ya do.”

Yagyu nodded because he knew in his heart that the Blademaster spoke the truth. It was nothing Yagyu didn’t already know, he only needed to hear it. Galvangar held out his hand and Yagyu grasped it and the two warriors shook hands in silent respect. Turning away Yagyu mounted Grimfang’s saddle and turned to ride back to Frostwolf when he heard Galvangar shout.

“Hey Yag! One more thing! … When yew wanna learn ta use a real weapon…” he held up his great blade “…yew come back an’ see me.” The Sythegar saluted the warrior and waving goodbye, headed back to rejoin his loyal crew with a renewed purpose.

There is nothing that surpasses ruling with benevolence. - Tsunetomo

The recent trip to Alterac had given Yagyu a lot to mull over as he sat in Stonard awaiting the arrival of the few Grin he expected to take on patrol. As he stared at the fire, his thoughts drifted back to the day after his battle at Galvangar’s side. As he returned to Tarren Mill from the entrance to the valley he arrived at the dilapidated shack that stood near the graveyard and functioned as an inn. After walking in and purchasing a few provisions he heard a commotion outside the door. A young tauren was talking to two young orcs and all seemed to be agitated. The Sythegar walked back to the doorway and where he could hear their conversation.

“Those Alliance dogs!” said the tauren, practically spitting the words out. Can’t they just leave us to live in peace here?”

The larger of the two orcs replied, “But you see how the warriors are here. No one cares! No one wants to bother over a few of us suffering in Hillsbrad, or Stranglethorn, or even the Barrens!” Resignedly he shook his head. “That’s just our lot in life. That what it means to be part of Thrall’s Horde…we suffer in silent futility.”

His friend nodded in agreement. “Better off we hadn’t even been born than to have to live in fear of human swords everytime we go to plow a field.”

Sadly the three young horde turned and trudged away. It was the sight of their hunched shoulders disappearing into the distance that Yag remembered the most vividly. The weight of the wars seemed to press down on them like cinderblocks.

The memory faded as Yagyu stared into the crackling embers in the Stonard Inn’s firepit. Standing up, Yagyu walked out into the courtyard. He saw Zalindae hop off the wyverns back and present him a crisp salute. “I’m ready to fight Sir. What are we doing tonight?” Yag looked at the young blood elf. What were they doing indeed, he thought. What was the Grin’s purpose in fighting Thrall’s peace? Was it to gain territory? Was it just to have something to do? Looking at the young Grin standing in front of him awaiting orders, Yag realized that there had to be something more for them. If not, then why had Gorfrunch and Faquarl given up their lives?

He squarely at Zalindae and replied evenly. “We’z headin’ ta’ Stranglethorn Vale. We’z gunna look fer youngin’s that need our help. An’ we’z gunna help ‘em. That’s it.” Zalindae nodded. Yag could not tell whether it was nod simply in acknowledgment of an order or if any of his feelings had seeped through his words. After a time the courtyard filled with Grin. First the six Yag had been expecting but soon eight, twelve, fifeteen! The place was full! The Sythegar could not believe it. There were more Grin than he had expected to arrive and a sly grin crossed his face. Even the new Warchief had come to help.

Yagyu stood in front of the assembled group and addressed them. “Thanks fer showin’ up. Tonight we patrol the areas an’ help any youngin’s that are being harassed by Alliance. We do this so they remembers who protects ‘em. ‘An it ain’t Thrall!” He looked squarely at Ashenrock when he said this, whose eyes betrayed nothing.

Lifting his mace high Yagyu roared. “No one dies tonight! FEAR THE GRIN!”

Bok’theg was worried. Things were certainly NOT proceeding as planned. The Sythegar seemed to be growing closer to the Warchief not pulling farther away. If he didn’t think of something soon, his entire plan would unravel. He had to continue driving a wedge between Yagyu and Ashenrock. The orc was starting to get far too comfortable with the Warchief.

That was when he remembered the envelope. Perhaps there was a way to make Shadiel’s penchant for secrecy work to the warlock’s advantage. If he could somehow engineer the Warchief to give Yagyu a conflicting order that would prevent the orc from helping his friend it was sure to cause a rift between the tauren and the orc. Of course, it couldn’t just be any order. It had to be one the Warchief felt just as important as helping another Sythegar, and prefereably one that Yagyu would assume was intended to help Thrall. But what could that something be, he wondered? The warlock racked his brain trying to think of solutions that simply would not come. What could the Warchief be persuaded to do that would force the Sythegar to make a choice? Staring across the inn he spotted Crunck and his simpering robotic friend. Perhaps the dumb orc could somehow be manipulated into serving his plan, Bok’theg thought to himself. He steepled his fingers and absently tapped them together as his mind began to plot.

Yagyu was beginning to appreciate Nagrand. It had always appealed to him. Just the thought of such a place where orcs could live apart from Humans and Night Elves appealed to him as did the rich history of the region. Granted it was not the harsh land that bred vicious orc warriors but there enough challenges to keep even the dullest blade sharp. These were the Sythegar’s thoughts as he rode once more down the road past the green hills trod by wild eleek.

As he approached the Boulderfist ogre encampment, he noticed that the orges did not impede his arrival. They still looked at him with a mixture of fear and hate in their eyes but they no longer gave him trouble and he approached Lantresor unmolested. The old Blademaster was glad to see him. Holding out a small plate with some bread and meat, Lantresor motioned for the orc to sit with him. Yagyu took the offered plate and saluted the old warrior with respect before digging into the offered food eagerly.

“So Yagyu…” Lantresor sized up the Sythegar as he spoke. “How is Galvangar? It has been sometime since I’ve seen old Grunter.”

Yagyu nodded as he swallowed a chunk of bread. “He’z gud. The battle still rages in Alterac and Galv fights dwarfs like a possessed demon. He even offered me a post in his Clan.” Yag stole a glance at Lantresor only to see a slight twinkle in his eyes.

“And yet here you sit?” The Blademaster inquired. Yagyu nodded and Lantresor smiled. “So you’ve learned the first lesson of service. Loyalty is what defines a Blademaster.” Lantresor nodded in satisfaction but then asked, “So why did it take you so long to return here?”

“Well, I woulda been back ta see ya sooner but I had some work to do with the Grin.” Yagyu proceeded to tell the Blademaster about the patrol he led and how his time with Glavangar had made him realize the importance of service not only to the clan but to others. Lantresor listened to the orc in silence and slowly smiled.

“It seems I sent you out to learn one lesson and you return having learned two!” The orc chuckled at the comment and they both continued to eat as bright streams of color passed across the Nagrand sky.

Yagyu paused and looked seriously at Lantresor. “I have a problem though. I still don’t know where the new Warchief stands. I found a medallion of the Burning Blade in his pack. I hate to think of him being a spy for Thrall but…what other explanation is there?” Yagyu rubbed his head with dismay as he spoke and Lantesor’s steely eyes silently took in the orcs discomfort.

“So what have you decided to do then?” he asked.

“I’ve decided ta find out fer myself. The druid deserves that much at least, I guess.” Yagyu paused as another thought crossed his mind. He recalled Bok’theg’s comments when they were last here and it still disturbed him. “I’ll have ta figger out whose side he’s really on.”

Lantresor stroked his beard thoughtfully. “The agents of Thrall are many…but so are his enemies, Yagyu. Do not be so arrogant to believe that the Blacktooth Grin are the only ones who have a grudge against Ogrimmar.” Lantresor looked had at the Sythegar. “The truth comes out in battle. Test yourselves and you may yet find answers. But remember Sythegar…” he pointed his finger at Yagyu “…the time may come when you are forced to make a choice. Be sure you know who your true enemies are first.”

*Excerpt from Ashenrock's RP story*

---He then thought of Yagyu. Yagyu was the perfect fit to take Pokes' place as Warlord and he would promote him as soon as the opportunity presented itself. The orc had definitely been troubled by something, but Rock was unsure if it was the Grin or a personal matter that troubled him. Rock figured that when the time was right, Yagyu would talk to him about it. Perhaps the promotion would help him see that Ashenrock's respect for his talents and experience were genuine. For the time being, though, he thought it best to stay focused on the rest of the clan.---

e•piph•a•ny
–noun, plural -nies.
- a sudden, intuitive perception of or insight into the reality or essential meaning of something, usually initiated by some simple, homely, or commonplace occurrence or experience.

Sometimes the most diabolical plans stem from the smallest incident. This was what entered Bok’theg’s black mind on rainy morning as he reclined on a comfortable pillow upstairs in the Stonard Inn. He had been wracking his brain all night trying to figure a way out of his mess and satisfy the Shadow Council. The Council needed the power of the Grin in order to complete their take over of Thrall’s Horde. And while the Grin bore no love for the Peacechief, they were certainly not interested in serving as the slaves of the Shadow Council either. Bok’theg knew that Yagyu was the key but it was a delicate process. The Sythegar had not cozied up to him as he had hoped and none of the other officers appeared to trust him. What was worse, Yagyu appeared to actually be thawing his previously cold relationship with the tauren Warchief. This had to be stopped, the warlock thought as he ground his teeth in anger and frustration. But how could he do that?

As he pondered his dilemma, he watched his familiar imp Quzfip doing what he loved to do, cause mischief. He was taking items from a Grunt's unattended pack and putting them in the pack of another who was on unfriendly terms with the first. As he watched Quzfip work his prank, the warlock grinned to himself. That was it! It was so simple! If he could not convince others of his trustworthiness he would play on their distrust. He knew where Shadiel was headed and he would make sure Yagyu went as well. But Ashenrock would never prevent such a trip knowing that it could help a fellow Grinner. So how could Ashenrock be convinced to prevent Yagyu from going? Simple…make him think that it was what Bok’theg wanted! He would wait until Shadiel departed, convince Yagyu to go after him and then allow Ashenrock to learn that Bok’theg knew of the trip in advance. He would then approach the Warchief later and suggest that Yagyu go to aid the mage with himself as guide. Certainly Ashenrock would be immediately suspect and perhaps even prevent the orc from going. This would push Yagyu into disobeying the Tauren at worst, or splitting their growing friendship at best!

Bok’theg suppressed an evil cackle as he hatched his plot, rubbing his hands together in grotesque anticipation of the bonds that he was planning to rupture.

Stonard, 24 hours ago

Yagyu watched as the familiar figure loped into view through the Stonard gates. The hunched figure sat astride a bony nag that looked as if it were about to drop from exhaustion. The mud slopped around the nag’s hooves as it stopped in front of the Stonard Inn and the Forsaken messenger climbed down from its back. Yagyu had seen the Forsaken many times and always leaving from Bellmont’s quarters. He was a good informant and had always provided reliable information in the past. Now he approached the Sythegar clutching a small parchment in his claw-like fingers.

“I have something you may be interested in Sythegar.” Hissed the Forsaken spy.

Yagyu simply grunted and fished a coin out of his pocket. Taking the parchment he unrolled it to find a note written in Common.

“Whut’s it say rotter?” Yag growled at the informant. The Forsaken, enjoying his role as bearer of news, spoke with obvious relish. “It is a note intercepted from Menethil. It asks an unidentified Paladin how long it will take for his forces to arrive and whether they will be making a stop along the way before heading south through the ‘cursed farms’.” The Forsaken’s words had the intended effect of arousing curiosity in the orc. “I believe, Sythegar, the intent is to attack Hammerfall.”

Yagyu stroked his topknot as he thought about the information. “Thanks. Gud work. I’ll be sure ta tell yer Master next time I sees ‘im.” With a wave Yagyu dismissed the agent and strode back into the Inn.

Hammerfall, 5 hours later

“…and just where is the Sythegar?” Ashenrock was staring hard at Bok’theg whose brow was beaded with sweat. The summoning he had just performed had taken its toll on the young warlock.

“I’m sure he has a good reason for being late.” Ashenrock answered evenly. He wasn’t about to be provoked by the warlock tonight. Alliance might be in the area and he could not afford to waste time with petty politics. “Reeper! Take the rogues and scout the area and report any sightings of Alliance.” Saluting smartly the troll and his squad moved out the gates of Hammerfall just as Yagyu rode up. Saluting the Warchief, Yagyu strapped his helm down as he tried to assess the situation.

“Who is it Rock? Keepers?” he asked matter-of-factly. Ashenrock only half-smiled in response as if to say, who else?

Suddenly the report came back, there was a group of Keepers massing near the back gate of Hammerfall. Yelling to the rest of the Grin, Rock pushed them to the back gates. Gleaming human helms and dwarven mallets peeked above the green rolling hills of Arathi as the Grin officers placed their troops into formation. Bellowing the order to begin firing, the Ranged Squad rained fire, frost and arrows down on the compact group of Keepers who showed themselves too close to the fenceline. With a cry of ‘FEAR THE GRIN!’ The armored warriors charged into the fray, hacking and slashing at the lightly armored human priests and mages. Vainly they tried to retaliate with bolts of frost and other arcane spells only to find themselves sliced open by the hidden blades of Reeper’s rogue squad who had come up on their rear. Yag felt healing waves wash across his body as each one gave him renewed vigor in his attacks. One human priest fell to his mace, then another, then a paladin. Soon it was all over as a poile of corpses lay at their feet. It had been a one-sided battle but the small contingent of Keepers had fought bravely. The survivors had begun to retreat back down the hill and Yagyu shouted for the blood crazed Grin to halt their attacks so the Keepers could take their wounded back.

A local troll stood on the hill looking down at the retreating figures and asked Yagyu, “Why let ‘dem get away mon? Dey deserve only death.”

Yagyu shook his head. “We may hate ‘em but they fought with bravery. They could see they wuz outnumbered and outclassed but they still fought like demons. I’ll be damned if we cut ‘em down like dogs.” The Sythegar shot a steely look at the troll. “They’d do the same fer us.” Turning sharply he walked back to Hammerfall as quiet settled over the fort once again.

Stonard, 2 hours later

Yagyu stood to Ashenrock’s right side. The Warchief was speaking of Huizopotl. The troll had recently been exiled from the Grin for vicious brutalization of the enemy which were too much even by Grin standards. Yagyu thought of the old troll and of the previous battle. He had always been capable of viciousness but now as he stood looking out over the Grunts and Raiders before him, he recalled what was best in this world. The path of the warrior was frought with peril but it was not the path of a coward. He would not spit on brave warrior no matter what his race. He might chop off a gnomes head but if he had fought bravely he would be respected even in death. These were his thoughts as he heard Ashenrock call his name.

“Yagyu! Step forward!” Yag posted in front of the tauren. “Turn and face the Grin….Warlord.”

Shocked Yagyu stared at Ashenrock for a moment, and then turned slowly with a wicked grin as he faced the Grin who shouted their battle cries loudly into the night air. His ears rang with the calls of “FEAR THE WARLORD YAGYU!” floating on the Stonard winds.

Neeru Fireblade stared hard into the red eyes of the warlock standing before him. The eyes seemed to burn with ambition and arrogance. Fireblade had seen this look before and he was not unaware that Bok’theg’s feigned subservience was as much a product of the warlock’s own personal desires as it was a reaction of fear of Fireblade’s power. No he had been Shadow Council too long and had seen too many young power-hungry orcs pass this way not to be able to recognize blind ambition when he saw it.

Still, despite all of this, the warlock had proved useful. Though he pretended anger at his failures the truth was that no other agent of the Shadow Council had yet come as close to undermining the independence of the Blacktooth Grin. The warlock had already been able to sow discontent within the ranks and was even now, standing before him with a look that bespoke some new gain. Patiently he studied the orc as he waited for Bok’theg to speak.

“I have good and bad news to report.” Bok’theg’s eyes glowed with intensity.

Fireblade nodded. “Go on then, Summoner. Out with it.”

“Unfortunately, the Sythegar has begun to trust the Warchief and vice versa. So much so in fact, that the tauren actually promoted Yagyu to the rank of Warlord.” Bok’theg paused for effect as Neeru Fireblade took in the full significance of this new development.

“And just how do you propose to counter this, Summoner?” Fireblade asked icily.

“I have a plan, powerful one.” the warlock replied obsequiously. “I have come upon a bit of news which I intended to use to force a conflict between the two officers. The mage Shadiel will travel soon and I will ensure that the Warlord goes after him. I will also make my intentions known to Ashenrock who will almost assuredly try to prevent the Warlord’s travel if he thinks that it is at my instigation.” Bok’theg grinned at the audacity of his plan. “This will force a confrontation between them which should lead to the Warlord’s attempt to take over the Grin…something I will ‘suggest’ of course. Thus will he deliver the clan into the Shadow Council’s hands.”

Bok’theg watched Fireblade carefully as the older warlock contemplated the plan and it’s possibilities. Certainly, Fireblade was tempted to believe it was possible and Bok’theg’s words were so convincing that surely he would be forgiven for not having accomplished more in his time. But fear of retribution was no longer foremost in the warlock’s mind.

Above all other things, Bok’theg was desirous of power and the Shadow Council was where he decided he must be. But the longer he served Fireblade, the more he came to realize that in service he would not attain the power he sought. Fireblade, served as the Council’s agent in Ogrimmar and thus as a servant of Fireblade, he would never advance any higher in the eyes of the Council. He knew enough of politics to understand that Fireblade would simply use him for his own ends and dispose of him when the time was right. Thus did Bok’theg begin to formulate his own strategy. As he studied Fireblade’s reactions, a new plan was forming in his mind. And there was one now who could be of use to him on that path. Yes…this could be the way for him to achieve the power he desired. He would work to solidify his hold on this one.

Fireblade spoke but the words fell on deaf ears. Bok’theg was plotting his own ascendancy and there was much work to be done.

One should always take the attitude of standing above others in martial valor, always feel that he is inferior to no one, and always cultivate his courage. When on the battlefield, if you try not to let others take the lead and have the sole intention of breaking into the enemy lines, then you will not fall behind others, your mind will become fierce, and you will manifest martial valor. This fact has been passed down by the elders. Furthermore, if you are slain in battle, you should be resolved to have your corpse facing the enemy. - Tsunetomo

As well as the battle against the Keepers at Hammerfall had gone, there was one thing which weighed heavily on Yagyu’s mind, as it did on the hearts of all the Grin. Felora had come up missing and there had been no sign of her since the battle. Somber faces greeted him as he walked through the grounds of Stonard. A depression seemed to hang in the air and Yagyu knew that something had to be done. Walking into the center of the courtyard he bellowed “FORM UP!”

The various Grin assembled before the Warlord as they stared at him expectantly waiting for some word of their missing Sythegar. Yagyu looked over the group of twenty assembled Grin and it was clear in his mind what had to be done.

“Ever’one, meet me in Hammerfall. I’ll give instruction there.”

Hammerfall, 1 hour later

Yagyu stood in front of the assembled Grin as they formed up into their squads.

“Tonight we raid the town of Menethil. If Thrall’s forces cannot protect these Horde then we will.” He saw the gleam in the eyes of the assembled warriors and knew they were the right words.
“We have two missions tonight Grin. First is to find out why the Keepers attacked Hammerfall the other day, and determine if this is some new threat. The second is to collect any available information about what happened to our missing Sythegar.” Yagyu watched as his words changed the gleam in the eyes of the Grin to a spark of rage.

Yagyu pulled himself up into the saddle and rode to the front of the Grin. “Tonight we fight for the weak who won’t defend themselves. Move out!” With that the Blacktooth Grin charged off down the Arathi Highlands towards the port of Menethil.

The battle there was short and one-sided. The lack of Alliance defenders at Menthil gave the Warlord time to search for clues as to what had happened. The conspicuous lack of Alliance troops was worrying him more than anything else. When he found the empty supply crates he knew that a force, possibly the Keepers had been there before. There was still no sign of Felora or what had become of her and he was at a loss.

Grimnir approached him after they had taken the Menethil Keep. “Yag, there’s nothin’ left here. We should move off to Theramore and see if there’s any information ter be found there.” Yagyu nodded in agreement and the order was given to take the docks and the boat to Theramore.

Theramore

The Theramore defenders were not prepared for the wave of Blacktooth Grin that crashed against them. The guards were quickly dispatched and the Grin wasted no time in crossing the island to the fortress where Jaina Proudmoore stood. As they met at the bottom of the tower Grimnir prepared the Grin for an assault of the mage. “Crunck, yew need ter stay right on top of her and don’t give her a chance to cast against us.” Crunck nodded and the Grin began to storm the tower. But their forces were too small for such an undertaking as Jaina and her defenders beat back multiple assaults on her position. Regrouping at the bottom, Grimnir took Yagyu aside. “Yag, she’s too well bunkered in. We can’t make it through with the force we have now.”

Yagyu knew his friend was right and he ground his teeth in anger. “Fine. IF she won’t come out of that damn tower, then we’ll burn this town around her!” he said through gritted teeth. “GRIN! SACK THIS PLACE!” Cheers and cries of FEAR THE GRIN went up as the twenty-some strong force proceeded to slaughter the guards and torch the buildings.

“Take the Citadel!” Yagyu bellowed as the Grin fought their way into the great doors and up the stairs to the roof. Standing on top of the roof Yagyu looked down at the pile of bodies that law strewn across the grounds outside the Citadel. That was when he saw the flags. Three figures rode across the courtyard and stopped looking up at him as he stood silhouetted on the roof. The banners were unmistakable and ones the drove fear into the hearts of many Horde. But to Yagyu they brought only a smile to his thin lips. Turning around to face the Grin he looked them up and down with a keen eye.

“Lissen up Grin! The Reveries are here. They think ta take this roof from us. I say we grease it with their blood!” A great cry went up from the warriors as they turned to meet the Alliance forces that marched up the stairs to certain death.

((yeah they were like Sheep to the slaughter :sheep::shoot: ))

Listening to Yagyu Crunck was sent into a killing frenzy but his pet bomb GLaDOS kept him in control as the Alliance bunched up in the towers afraid to step out onto the roof. After about a hour the alliance started forming in mass and the call to retreat was made, as people started jumping off and running in random directions Crunck put on his parachute and jumped over the wall of the keep and made his way to safty and found his way back to Stonard.

The warlock stopped in the middle of road panting, out of breath. Moving over to the side he sat in the grey dirt and pulled a piece of mutton from his pack and a jug of melon juice. Sweat dripped from his brow as he began to eat and drink. Immediately he could feel his stomach relaxing as his energy was replenished. Fortunately the sun was going down and the heat was no longer so oppressive. And yet the barren wastes of Desolace were as empty and intimidating as he had heard.

He had calculated that his absence from Stonard would not be missed. The Grin was busy with their own affairs and a trip out here would not cost him. He wiped his forehead with his sleeve as he gazed to the south. In the distance he could see a tower with evil looking spikes that stood out like an Eleek’s tusks and he knew that Thunderaxe Fortress was not far off. He had business there. He was going to see a preeminent member of the Shadow Council, Klass Metalfist. He would have to be careful of course. Metalfist was no fool like Fireblade. Not one who could be trifled with. Bok’theg would have to be humble and yet still prove his worth to the warlock if he wished to taken on as an initiate to the Council. The only thing the warlock had going for him was his place in the Grin. It was now more important than ever that he solidfy his place there.

Rising from the ground, Bok’theg continued on at a light jog towards the towering battlements of Thunderaxe Fortress.

Stonard, 12 hours later

Bok’theg was tired from the trip but he had a keen sense of satisfaction about him. His visit with Metalfist had been an unqualified success. The Shadow Council was certainly eager for the power of Blacktooth Grin to be allied with them and they were pleased to have an agent already affiliated offer himself so willingly to their cause. The ascendancy of the Tuaren druid to the position of Warchief had been worrying to those who hated Thrall and although the Grin had never been pawns of the Council before there had never been any need to exert any direct control over the clan. Now the priorities of the Council had changed. They could no longer be certain of the Grin’s stance and Metalfist had told Bok’theg in no uncertain terms that he needed the Grin to act in the Shadow Council’s best interests.

“The sacking of Theramore was of great use to us.” Metalfist had told him. “There was an agent of Thrall who was living there who happened to have been killed in the battle. His death was of importance to us as he had information about our plans in Ogrimmar. Those plans are now secure again. This is the type of activity that must continue Bok’theg.” Metalfist’s eyes bored into Bok’theg. “I know you desire power, warlock. Serve us well, and that power shall be yours.”

The words still rang in Bok’theg’s ears as he sat in Stonard unpacking his belongings. He would do what he must to be trusted by the Clan. In good time, power would be his. All in good time.

“…to act right and do good is difficult and is regarded as tiresome, whereas to act wrongly and do evil is easy and amusing…” – Daidoji Yuzan

Yagyu was worried. Shadiel had been gone a week now and there was still no word. He knew something was wrong. Seeing his obvious agitation Ashenrock approached him.

“What troubles you Warlord?” asked the tauren with genuine concern.

“It’s been a week and no word from Shad yet.” He replied. “I know something is wrong…an’ I’m goin’ after him.”

Ashenrock’s brow furrowed as he frowned. “I don’t think that’s wise Warlord.”

Bok’theg, who up until this time had been watching from the corner, stood up and approached. Now was the time for a final feeble attempt at fulfilling Neeru Fireblade’s plan. Whether he was believed or not now mattered little. He had other ideas and this was the time to begin them. Finally he spoke

“I agree with the Warlord. I too, sense there is something wrong with the Sythegar.”

Had the glare from Ashenrock been a dagger, Bok’theg would already have been lying in a pool of his own blood. The warlock asserted his support for Yagyu seeking out Shadiel all the while knowing the Warchief would try to disrupt it. Turning to Yagyu, Ashenrock stated simply “Warlord, I don’t think going is wise idea but not for the reason you might think.” With that, he turned on his heel and retrieved a small item from his pack. Returning to the group he threw the medallion of the Burning Blade at Bok’theg’s feet and carefully watched Yagyu’s expression.

“This warlock placed this foul item in my pack for the Grin to find.” The druid practically spat the words out as he glared at the Bok’theg. “You should be more careful in the future that your actions are not secretly observed.” Snarled the druid.

Bok’theg stared wide-eyed at the medallion that sat in the middle of the floor but he had prepared for this eventuality. His quick tongue likely would have gotten him out of the situation had not Crunck’s assistant GLaDoS arrived at that moment to find the medallion.

“Well it seems we’re in quite a pinch” The robot’s metallic voice churned out the words.

Bok’theg knew immediately that Fireblade’s plan was now a failure and he started to protest to Yagyu but the Warlord cut him off with a sharp reply. “Yew shut yer mouth! We’ve heard enough outta yew fer a while!” Turning to Ashenrock Yagyu looked the Warchief squarely in the eyes.

“I’ve fought with yer now fer some time and I’ve seen whut yer made of. Yew ain’t gotta explain nuthin’ ta me or anybody else.”

Bok’theg’s mind worked quickly to assess the situation and he knew that groveling would be his only way out. Dropping quickly to one knee in front of the Warchief, he begged for his life. “Yes it’s true! I tried to make the Grin mistrust you! But only because I feared you would lead the Clan to defeat!” The warlock spoke rapidly without lifting his eyes. “I deserve death! Take my life Warchief.” Far from being a suicidal gesture, it was a clever ruse in Bok’theg’s mind to save his skin. Knowing of the Warchief’s druidic past, he gambled that Ashenrock’s innate kindness would be his chance of survival. It was a slim chance but the only one that was available to the scheming warlock. He awaited the falling blade on his exposed neck but it didn’t come. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, the Warchief spoke.

“No warlock, we won’t take your hide today…but remember that your life is now forfeit…to me!” With that Bok’theg slunk away into his dark corner, glaring with malice at Crunck and GLaDoS as he did.

If in one’s heart
He follows the path of sincerity,
Though he does not pray,
Will not the gods protect him?
- Unknown

Yagyu was ready. All his gear was packed and he looked around his quarters satisfied he had forgotten nothing. Finally, he walked out into the center of the Inn at Stonard.

“Crunck! Post!”

Crunck stood in front of the Warlord and saluted.

“Git the team together and have everyone meet me in Azshara. It’s time ta go git our Sythegar.” A wide grin spread across the Champion’s face as he saluted Yagyu and ran to carry-out the orders.

Yagyu knew there was only one thing left. He walked to Ashenrock’s door and knocked. He hated to do it. He knew the Tauren was in the midst of his own crises at the moment. His family problems weighed heavily on him though he would never admit to it, and Yagyu worried that they might be taking their toll on the Chieftain. He had not helped matters either, he scolded himself. This mess with Bok’theg and Ashenrock’s confusion with him since he had returned to the Grin had not been a service but rather a discomfort to the druid. Regardless, it was Ashenrock’s clan now and as a Warlord it was Yagyu’s duty to prepare the task at hand. If he chose not to go, so be it, but it was the Chief’s decision to make, not Yag’s. Solemnly he knocked on the door.

“Enter Warlord” came the reply from within. As he opened the door and saluted, Yagyu wondered how the tauren knew who it was. Some druidic magiks no doubt.

“Warchief….it’s time. The team is assembled and everything is ready.” He held his breath as he awaited Ashenrock’s response.

The tauren looked at him with tired eyes but said nothing. Slowly turning, he rose from his seat and picked up his spaulders.

“Thank you Warlord. I’ll see you in Azshara shortly.” Yag nodded and left the Chief’s quarters closing the door behind him.

It was what he had hoped and expected from the Chieftain. Everyone knew that Shadiel must have been in trouble and the Grin stood by each other no matter what. Within the Grin there was no need for oaths or promises of loyalty or obedience. Once in, it was simply expected that you would act accordingly. Yagyu never had to give his word because the clan knew that he would simply do what had to be done. Now, as he walked towards the stables where Grimfang waited, he knew that Ashenrock was the same. He was indeed the Warchief. Gorfrunch was dead. The Chieftain was dead. Ashenrock was the Chieftain. Long live the Chieftain.

As he has to die, the aim of a samurai should be to fall performing some great deed of valor that will astonish both friend and foe alike and make his death regretted by his lord and commander and so leave behind a great name to the generations to come. – Yuzan

The hills of Nagrand turned a lush, deep green as the last of the fading sun’s rays streamed across the mountain peaks. Yagyu looked up at the slowly darkening sky as he sat with Lantresor. Quietly he reflected upon the events of the past few months as he slowly ate the bread that the old warrior shared with him. He thought about the Clan he called home. The new Grots were young and untrained as always but he smiled to himself as he thought of the trials they would surely face. The Grunts would certainly see to that. The new crop of Grunts was eager for battle and took every opportunity presented to them to keep the Grots in line. They barely remembered anything of the old guard. Warriors like Orthunk, Zinda, and Stokes were now fading and distant memories relegated to tales of valor around a Stonard fire. Some, like Faquarl, were now spirits that the younger Grin prayed to for strength in battle.
The Raiders were eager and chomping at the bit to prove themselves as future leaders of the Clan just as the Champions were doing. Warriors like Crunck and Reeper and Mortael were rising quickly and Alliance lived in fear of their names.
The Clan was kept alive by the Sythegar who kept the rest of the bloodthirsty lot in check. Not only that but they did most of the work that no one ever saw or even thought about. It left him and Grimnir as the Warlords responsible for carrying on the Grin’s legacy, letting none forget their past and keeping them facing the future with blades at the ready.
And what of the Warchief, Ashenrock? For so long it had sounded foreign to Yagyu to call the tauren by that title but he had certainly earned it. His character had shown through in some trying times and Yagyu was proud to serve him as a Warlord. Where Ashenrock needed assistance, Yagyu would be there to help him and serve as was his duty. Just as he had with Gorfrunch, this tauren could count on his strength in any battle to come.

The Warlord relaxed as he sat with Lantresor recounted the battles of the previous few months. The fight in Arathi when the Grin had been badly beaten by the Keepers and despair hung over the Grin like a cloud. Many had wanted to give up but the Warlord had rallied them at Hammerfall and they eventually beat the Keepers back from the gates. The next times they had faced the Stromgarde defenders, the Alliance bodies had piled up as high as the spiked walls of Hammerfall. So it was on the Citadel roof of Theramore when Midnight Reveries fell upon Grin blades like wheat under a farmer’s sickle. The raids on Exoddar and the fight in near the Draenei capital and the Grin’s feasting and celebrations on their birthday. All these things he told the old blademaster who listened as Yagyu told his tales. When he had finished, the old orc looked at the Warlord.

“So you have faced your enemies, reunited with your clan, and embraced your new Warchief….what else is left to you then, orc? Do you now know your place in the Clan?” Lantresor eyed Yagyu evenly.

The Warlord returned his measured gaze and nodded. “I know now….I always had a place there…I jus’ had ta remember whut it wuz.”

The faintest traces of a smile passed Lantresor’s lips as he offered Yag more water.

“So now you know. A warrior’s strength lies as much in his soul as it does in his steel.”

Yagyu grinned. His place in life was once again assured. His honor intact and in service of the Blacktooth Grin. There were more wars ahead and probably more deaths and troubles would darken the skies over Stonard before the thread of his life was snipped but in this moment, he was a Warlord of his clan. He would fulfill his duties with honor until he took his rightful place alongside of those who had gone before him, as all true warriors do.

~FIN~