The large black worg trotted through the gates of Stonard and headed directly for the hitching post in front of the inn. Yag dismounted and patted Grimfang on the head before pulling a chunk of meat from the saddlebag and tossing it to the worg.
“Here ya go Grim…eat up. Ya dun gud tonight.”
Walking into the Inn, he sat near the fire and unrolled his battlemap of the continents. The recent Dread Horde raids had gone as expected. The new clans were proving to be capable enough but not without room for improvement. The attack on Exodar had failed on account of a lack of discipline from a few of the Thunderlord Clan. Of course the Grin followed orders well, just as the Sythegar expected, and had it not been for the lapse of their allies, the attack would have been a success.
Tonight’s raid on Darnassus was another story. The Trivedi clan had a well prepared plan and was intent on specific execution; almost too intent. While the attack had been a partial success the wasted time, lack of clear and quick commands, and failure to leave a force to guard the Alliance portals caused the retreat that followed. Despite all this however, their fighting spirit as well as that of the Thunderhoof Clan could not be questioned. They had shed enough Nelf blood tonight to fill the Orgimmar lake. Yagyu grinned to himself as he recalled the feeling of the night elf priestess who fell under his mace, her skull caving in under its massive weight. As good as it was, it was still not enough of vengeance for Faquarl. Nor would it even begin to be enough for the loss of Gorfrunch. In fact, it was the one bone that stuck in Yagyu’s throat. The conspicuous absence of House Suncrown did not go unnoticed. It was probably just as well because it saved the Sythegar the trouble of trying to hold his temper in check and not split the face of that traitor Arkonn. His heart still seethed with hatred of his former friend and no matter how hard he tried to justify it or let the other officers calm him down he couldn’t overcome the desire to spill Arkonn’s blood.
Wearily Yagyu rubbed his head. That was for another time…now it was time to prepare his report to the new Warchief. …new Warchief…how strange it sounded…and yet somehow still comforting to know that even with Gor gone, the Clan lived on. Opening his pack, Yag pulled out a blank roll of parchment and began to scrawl his report.