The Northrend Contingent

((This is the RP thread during Yag's absence. It'll mostly be focusing on World PvPing in Northrend. Anybody who'd like to contribute their storylines or ideas is welcome to post here!))

Grimnir stood atop the tall tower that had become the de facto Grin headquarters, looking out over the bustling grounds of Conquest Hold. He was three days into Northrend, and uneasy as hell.

He'd spoken with the Warchief earlier, sitting hunched over a small table in the Chief's room in Stonard.

"I dunno wut's goin' on, Grim," Yagyu had said. "Hard ter know who ter trust nowadays. Gor's back, in some fashion, an he tried ter take my necklace. A bunch of the troops'd follow Gor sooner'n they'd follow me. An' yew..."

The Warchief had stopped, and looked directly at Grimnir.

"Wut about yew, Grim?"

"I..." the old shaman faltered. "I serve the Grin, Warchief. That means I serve yew. But usin' demonic magicks ter enslave the Smashblade...listenin' to that warlock, Bok'theg..."

"Enough." Yagyu stood, his eyes glimmering with a hint of rage. "Know yer place, Sythegar."

"Zug zug, Warchief."

Yagyu began to pace, unconsciously rubbing a pouch hanging by his left hip. "I gotta figger stuff out, Grim. I gotta get this Clan in order, an' unnerstand what's goin' on. But Northrend can't wait. We need the Grin there now, before our enemies claim the whole damn continent."

Grimnir nodded. "I agree."

"Yer still a Sythegar, Grim, an' yer still a friend. I'm gonna trust yew ter be the instrument of my will in Northrend. Take the bulk of the Clan to the north an' make our presence known. I'll follow wiv the rest in a few weeks."

"Swobu, Warchief." Grimnir stood, and saluted. "We'll take Conquest Hold as our own. On my honor, I pledge it'll still be ours when yer ready to join us."

Yagyu stood as well. For a brief moment, the two old friends eyed each other with sadness, and resolve. Then Yagyu extended a hand, and Grimnir shook it.

"Blood n' thunder, Grim."

"And yew, Yag."

Grimnir's reveries were interrupted by the sound of clattering feet making their way up the winding stairs of the tower. Zeverus burst into the room and saluted hurriedly, catching his breath. "Good news, Sythegar. The battle at Wintergrasp went well. The Alliance certainly knows we're here now."

"Good." Grimnir nodded, opening his worn map of Northrend and spreading it over the table. "That's just the beginning. By the time we're done here...this whole continent will know our name, and fear it."

It was cold and the orc felt it in his bones. The swamp was always chilly this time of year and the humidity made it seep through clothes and skin and burrow down into the marrow. Yagyu felt it today.

Stonard was practically empty these days. Most of the Grin had already headed out to Northrend with Grimnir and only a few remained with him at Stonard.

Yagyu saddened as he surveyed the empty remains of the place that had been the Grin’s home for more than a year. So many memories, good and bad in this place; now, as they had done so often in the past, the Grin headed out to find a new home in Northrend. He knew Grimnir would lead them well and establish a foothold and he hoped the old orc would come to his senses and realize that Yag had done what had to be done for the good of the clan. He knew there was danger in the path that he followed, but he had never been one to take the easy road. Whatever mistakes were made, whatever price was to be paid, he would suffer those burdens. That was his responsibility.

His thoughts were interrupted by the warlock Bok’theg who passed by his door and bowed, then moved off to continue checking the remaining fortifications around the encampment. The warlock was growing in power. Yag could feel it. Whether it boded for good or for ill was yet to be seen. He knew the risks he took by working with the warlock. He had known for some time of Bok’theg’s secret liaisons with the Shadow Council. He had seen him late at night when all others were sleeping and he had watched silently. And yet, he had also seen the warlock fight for the clan and serve his wishes when others would not. Thus, as ever, Yagyu clung to the hope that one day the warlock would see the truth and embrace the Grin as his own. When that happened, Yagyu knew that the rest wouldn’t matter. The clan would go on and be stronger for it.

Wearily he laid down on his bunk and closed his eyes. His last thoughts before drifting to sleep were of a black banner with gleaming white teeth fluttering over the snows of Northrend.

Grimnir saluted Yagyu crisply in front of Conquest Hold as he always did when seeing the Warchief for the first time in the day. Yag could tell that Grimnir was satisfied with the way the fight was going in Northrend. Victories against the Reveries in Wintergarde Keep and their battles at Valiance and other Alliance towns had struck fear into the hearts of the Alliance in Northrend. Now the very presence of the Grin banner was enough to send all but the most hardened enemies fleeing. But it was these the Chieftain was most concerned with.

“What’re we doin’ here Grim?” he asked the old shaman.

Grimnir wearily explained the need to counter the alliance in Northrend as if talking to a slow learning child. But the Warchief just shook his head.

“This ain’t the Grin I knew Grimnir. We wuzn’t meant ter follow Arthas all over hell an’ back jus’ because the rest of the horde does it. We could be in control of Azeroth by now if’n we wuzn’t out here chasin’ ghosts.”

As he spoke two Alliance soldiers passed by Conquest Hold and the Warchief and Sythegar gave chase. The nightelves ran fast and were soon out of sight so Yagyu took to the air to search when he heard Grimnir’s battle cry. As he arrived, Yagyu saw the shaman send a bolt of lightning through the gut of a lone elf who staggered and fell. Yagyu approached and looked at the singed tabard across his back. The Keepers of Stromgarde.

“See Warchief? They’re here. That’s why we’re here” said Grimnir, a triumphant lilt to his voice.

Yagyu simply shook his head as he let the burned cloth fall away from his fingers.

“They’re weak Grimnir. They’re strung out. Why should we chase ‘em all over Northrend when we should be striking at their heart?” the orc stood up and stared at the shaman. “I need to talk to Bok’theg. He’ll have an idear.”

Grimnir suppressed a snarl at the warlock’s name but held his tongue.

“Yew wan’ us back in Azeroth Chief? I’ll have battleplans laid out fer yew soon.”

Yagyu nodded wearily. He always knew he could count on Grimnir. No matter what the odds the old Shaman would never back down. Yagyu knew this was the only way to regain control of the clan. The recent episode with Gorfrunch had shaken many and he had to put the clan back on track. That meant getting the Grin back to its roots. Conquest of Azeroth.

As he saluted Grimnir and rode back toward Conquest Hold a plan was forming in the orc’s mind. There was one target that would rally the Grin and provide a crushing blow to the strongest of the Alliance forces. It would be a symbol of the power of the Grin that would echo throughout the world. Yagyu had much work to do.