The Search

((ALL, post in The Hunt thread if you are part of the Yag, Shad group that doesn't believe Gor is back. Post in this thread if you are part of the group that is trying to bring him back alive))

The imposing spires of Utgarde Keep glowered menacingly in the distance as Grimnir heeled his frostwolf and rode into New Agamand. All around him, Forsaken apothecaries and test subjects were busy refining the "New Plague" that was supposedly effective even against the Scourge. The town glimmered and glowed with the sickly neon color that the Forsaken so enjoyed as Grimnir stabled his frostwolf and made his way to a small building in the southwest corner of town.

Inside, most of the bottom floor had been cleared of excessive furniture and now contained only a few chairs, a weapons rack, and a single table covered with a heavily annotated map of Northrend. There Grimnir found Cailos sitting hunched over the table, brooding at the map.

"Sythegar." Grimnir saluted. "Lok'tar ogar."

"Well met, Grimnir," Cailos replied, never taking his eyes from the map. "Thank you for making the trip."

Grimnir dropped himself into a chair and unbuckled his shield, allowing it to drop heavily to the floor. He leaned over to look at the map, which showed a number of red X's and an even larger number of red question marks dotting the various regions of Northrend.

"He's here somewhere," Cailos promised. "We know he's come through Vengeance Landing and headed west." The elf pointed to a red X labelling a position in the far northwest of the Howling Fjord. "There's a small Forsaken camp here, and at least one of the guards there recalls someone of our target's description - red eyes included - passing through on his way into Dragonblight."

Grimnir nodded, absently scratching his beard. His eyes roamed the map, studying the various locations. He was out there somewhere.

The Smashblade. Gorfrunch. Chieftan of the Blacktooth Grin for as long as anybody could remember. Grimnir's oldest friend.

And now Yagyu had declared that he would be brought in...dead or alive. Most of the Grin had mobilized for a manhunt, and Grimnir knew they'd be out for blood. It would be up to him, and Cailos, and those few Blackteeth who knew the truth, to bring Gorfrunch in alive and unharmed.

They would have to do it with both time and numbers against them. But it had to be done.

"Hurr," Grimnir grumbled, his eyes never leaving the map. "Lotta ground to cover."

Cailos nodded.

"Gorfrunch is...different, somehow," Grimnir confessed. "I can't read him like I used to. It's hard to tell what he's after...but we can guess that it's bloodshed."

Cailos nodded again.

"So we can probably rule out the major Horde settlements," the old shaman opined. "Agmar's. Conquest. Warsong. Gor's not back to make nice with the rest of the Horde, he's here fer scrappin'. He'll be scouting the Alliance strongholds, and he'll be curious about any place in Northrend where there's a lot of concentrated power."

"Agreed." Cailos looked determined. "Then we know what we have to do, and we know where we'll start. The Dragonblight is where the trail goes cold, so we'll start by searching Wintergarde and Naxxramas, and we'll go from there."

Grimnir grunted his approval.

"Another thing," Cailos said, standing and beginning to pace. "We're going to need all the help we can get. I'm going to quietly assemble everyone who knows Gorfrunch is really back and get them to assist in this operation. We'll base ourselves out of right here, in New Agamand."

"Good," Grimnir said, standing himself. "Get everyone you can."

"You'll be headed for the Dragonblight, then?"

"No." Cailos looked up in surprise as Grimnir continued. "There's something I need to see for sure. Something that'll take a long journey to establish."

"What do you need to see?"

"Garadar," said Grimnir with a grin. "An empty grave."

A few moments after Grimnir left, Cailos stepped outside. The sun was covered by a thin layer of clouds that gave everything a sickly hue. Moreso than this place usually had. But for all its faults, this place felt more like home than anywhere else in Northrend. Cailos had spent much time training in the undercity after leaving Silvermoon, and felt at ease in the company of the forsaken.

Cailos knew Gorfrunch was different somehow. He had sensed it when Gorfrunch had shown up at the inn late that night. The difference was... elusive.

"It's not my job to figure it out," Cailos muttered to himself. "I just need to get him to Yag alive. Yag made that decision in haste and based on emotion. He needs to see the evidence for himself."

Cailos looked out over the field surrounding the town, at the uneven landscape, the trees, caves and though how easy it would be to hide in any one of a thousand places.

Zeverus and Aulamil could help with this, Cailos thought. They both understood the need for Yag to see Gor for himself, but I don't have time to go chasing after them.

"Anicus!" yelled Cailos, looking around.

"Yes, master?" said the undead priest as he stepped from around the corner.

"I have told you several times not to call me master, Anicus," said Cailos with a sigh. "Nevermind," he said waving his hand in dismissal. "I need you to do something for me. Find Zeverus and Aulamil and impress upon them how dire it is we find Gorfrunch first."

"It shall be done," said Anicus, bowing low. He then talked to the flight master and headed for Dalaran.

Cailos sat, thinking. After several minutes, he spurred his horse toward the Dragonblight border. He heard thunder and looked around to see storm clouds building over the sea.

"A storm is coming," Cailos said. "Gorfrunch must be found."

Grimnir watched the jagged spires of the Blackrock Mountains pass by as he rested against the zeppelin railing. He had hours to contemplate things as he underwent the lengthy journey back to Northrend.

He sighed, fishing through his pocket before coming up with a leather flask. He drank contemplatively, watching the zeppelin's shadow stretch across the landscape below. A lot had changed since he'd visited Outland. Things were getting complicated, and - Grimnir had to admit it - somewhat frightening.

Mysterious evidence had emerged from a completely unknown source which had required Grimnir and Cailos to change their plans. The Sythegar would go ahead to New Agamand and would deploy what resources he could. Grimnir knew the elf had a couple of names in mind; names of Grinners who might help search for Gorfrunch without being fixated on killing him. Cailos would summon as many as possible, and distribute them throughout likely locations in Northrend.

Grimnir grinned as two young orc whelps ran across the deck, tossing a skull back and forth. He idly fingered a series of letters he'd written in his tiny cabin a few hours earlier - pleas for help to Felora, Rock, and Yalim. He'd send them as soon as he made landfall in the Undercity, and could then only hope that they would give him a fair hearing, and consider assisting.

He put the flask away, returned his attention to the volcanic tops of the Blackrock spires. The uneasy volatility of the lava seemed to mirror the atmosphere which had started to pervade the Grin. The waters were getting choppy...and everywhere Grimnir looked he felt that sense of restless uneasiness.

He sighs and steadies himself against the railing. "One thing at a time." He will follow his intuition and head for Zul'Drak. From there? He'll track the damned orc across the entire continent if necessary. And then he'll get some answers.

Back in Northrend after a brief stop in Stonard, Signe reflected on the astonishing turn of events that occured. Gorfrunch, alive? Was it possible? Grimnir thought so, although he appeared to not be so sure once everyone had said their piece. "Strange magicks are at work here." Signe thought to herself. "Be it Alliance feign, demon trick or some other workings, the Grin must know."

Signe had offered her assistance to the old Orc, knowing he shouldn't search alone. There was too much weighing on him with this news. She shifted uneasily from her seat high on the rooftops of Dalaran. Going against the Chief was going to be tough, but she knew the means to the end would not be so important as the actual end. Gorfrunch, or his imposter, would be found out in one way or another. She stood and called for her drake.

Stopping at the stables, Signe whistled for her gorilla, a friend she had found in the lush greens of Sholazar. "George, I must put you in the stables for a bit. You're a bit too bulky for this trip." She laughed as George scratched his butt and frowned at her. "I'll come get you soon! I promise." Signe handed George over, and brought Axel out. She scratched his ears as he rubbed against her legs. "Ah, old friend, I've missed you. You will be a good companion on this trip." Axel faded a bit as he began to prowl. "Next stop, the armorers. I need a repair. It better be good and quick, since I don't have much time before meeting Grimnir."

Exhausted, Grimnir slid off his frostwolf and handed him off to the troll stable master with a tired grunt.

All around him, gnarled and spiky trees put up roots as darkness pervaded the area. Zul'Drak was not a place for those seeking laughter and good cheer. Everywhere the sense of darkness, undeath, and restless ghosts filled the air. Zul'Drak was a seething cornucopia of dying gods and living dead, which was precisely why Grimnir was there. If his hypothesis about Gorfrunch was correct...then Zul'Drak would be a logical place to locate him.

His business with the stable master complete, Grimnir turned to see an old friend. Khufu, the troll Witch Doctor, walking towards him with languid strides, a wolfish grin lighting his face.

"How ya doin', mon? Welcome back to Zim'Torga."

Grimnir nodded gratefully. "Aka'Magosh, Khufu. An honor ter' see yew again. How're things?"

"Crazy," Khufu said, shrugging. "Deh Drakkari be destroyin' dere gods for good, mon. Ain't gonna be nuttin' left but the Scourge an' the ravenous undead, at this rate."

Grimnir nodded sadly. The Drakkari trolls had begun the horrific process of cannibalizing their gods...and the old shaman knew only too well how that would turn out. They would devour all the spiritual power they could, be granted a brief period of immortality...and then it would all come crashing down, and with it, whatever vestiges of civilization remained in Zul'Drak. It was an empire in the last stages of its descent into madness.

"Is Har'koa safe?" Grimnir inquired. "Is she around."

"Oh ja, mon," Khufu responded. "We got her nice an' safe over by da east part of town. Be followin' me."

Grimnir followed the troll as he cast his eyes over the desolate landscape of Zul'Drak. Everything he witnessed reinforced his conviction that Gorfrunch would be drawn to this place - if his suspicions about what had happened to the Smashblade were correct.

"Welcome, Grimnir." The great panther spirit suddenly loomed before him, her eyes benevolent.

Grimnir dropped to one knee, and bowed his head before Har'koa. "An honor, great spirit. I am glad to see you well."

"Indeed." Har'koa shook her great head. "What brings you to this place?"

Grimnir paused, considering his words. Finally, he spoke: "I believe that...someone I know, someone very important to our Clan...has returned from the dead. I don't know how, or whether he accomplished this alone or through the machinations of others...but I do think his revival is semi-permanent at best. I saw him, briefly, and I discerned a considerable spiritual gap in him."

"You think he has not fully returned to this world."

"Aye." Grimnir nodded. "I think he's searching for something that will bind him fully to this spiritual plane. And I think he needs it soon."

Har'koa lowered her head, shutting her massive eyes for a second. When they opened, she again regarded the shaman.

"There is wisdom to your quest, Grimnir. As the Drakkari destroy their gods in their mad quest for power, they make a mockery of the boundary between life and death. There is much in Zul'Drak that has power over the two."

Grimnir nodded.

"Travel to the various altars, young shaman. It is there that such power can be found in its rawest, most concentrated form. Perhaps you will find what you seek at one of them."

Grimnir bowed. "Thank you for your counsel, great spirit." Keeping his eyes downcast, he turned and made his way back to Khufu.

"She help joo out, mon?" the Witch Doctor asked.

"We'll see," Grimnir said, rubbing his aching shoulders. "I gotta get movin'. Do me a favor, Khufu?"

"Anyt'ing, mon."

"Got a young Grinner comin' in ter help me out. 'Er name's Signe, she's an orc about yea high." Grimnir gestured appropriately with his hand. "If she comes afore I get back, tell 'er to make 'erself comfortable, an' I'll be back by nightfall. Give 'er some food an' water if yew can."

"No problem, mon. We owe joo bigtime here."

"Thanks, Khufu," Grimnir said wearily. His body cried out for rest, for sleep...but Grimnir knew time was short enough already.

"Yew kin sleep when yer dead, Grim," the shaman mumbled to himself. He nodded at the witch doctor and made his way back towards the stables. Back to the search. Back to work.

((For the record, Grimface’s real name is Thyrog…that should help explain the letter. FYI, 3 people know his real name so please don’t use it.))

The banging of metals filled the air as Grimface walked into the forge of Warsong Hold. The smells of melting metals and bright flashes of sparks made him feel right at home in the large workshop. He dropped a bag and pulled out a list of items people had contracted him to craft for them, a list that was becoming over longer as time goes by. “This was such a bad idea” Grimface said to himself as he realized that accepting the position of clan armorer was way more work than he anticipated. “Could be worse”, he continued “I could be leading a group in the frozen wastes hunting down this “Imposter” the chief is worried about.” He pulled out his blacksmith hammer and began to craft the armor.

Hours later, after he made some real progress on his list, he felt a tap on his shoulder. Thinking it was just another soldier of the horde he brushed it off, “Go away if you know what’s good for you.” The tapping got harder and Grim was now getting annoyed. He spun around and was eye to eye with a Blood Elf messenger who looked rather terrified at the grimace the orc had one his face. He quickly handed over a letter and ran off in terror.

“Thy,

I have joined Grimnir is the search to find Gorfrunch and bring him alive to Yagyu. I know your duties keep you busy but please feed me all info you can to help our cause. If you can get away, please contact Grimnir and see if he has a place for you to start.

I prey our paths cross again and that we survive this troubling time.

All my love,
Signe”

Grimface smiled as the scent of Signe’s musk came off the letter filling his nostrils with fire. He missed her so, even after 3 days he felt the need to see her but that would have to wait. Grim looked at his list and was proud he had managed to cut its number in half so quickly. He piled the remaining ore into the bag and pulled out his hearthstone. He rubbed it and stepped through the portal that lead to The Filthy Animal, the horde's great hall in Dalaran. He nodded and waved to a number of people in the inn and headed for the bank. He deposited his ore and pulled out a few trinkets he thought would be useful in the coming times. He then took off jogging towards the Sunreavers Sanctum and headed for the portal to Shattrath. If he was going to help Grimnir in any way, he had to be convinced that Grofrunch was indeed alive. He jumped through the portal and summoned his Netherdrake.

“Hello Emy” he said has he patted her neck affectionately. He jumped on and pulled back on the reigns to get her airborne. “To Nagrand sweetie, YAH!” The drake took off with blazing speed flying out the western entrance and flying dangerously low over the Aldor Rise dodging bullets and bolts as the guards there fired shocked rounds in the sky. Grimface has 4 loves in life: Signe, Minigrim, mining, and Emy his veridian netherdrake.

Nagrand felt like home to Grimface as its peaceful green fields and blues skies filled him with peace and harmony. He pulled left on the reigns and guided the drake northwest towards Garadar when suddenly an arrow zoomed by his head and he saw a Grin scout following him with an evil look in his eyes. Grimface decided to have some fun with the guard and motioned to the drake to dive right in to Garadar and fly through the Inn. Emy did so and as she did the guard tried to follow but couldn’t keep up with the aerodynamic drake as Grim guided his mount into the inn and jumped off. A sudden, loud crash outside made Grimface hug his drake, “Go get some grub in the lake and when I need you I’ll whistle” he said releasing her and patting her nose again.

Grim watched Emy walk out the large front door from which she just flew into and gently lift off casting a shadow he tracked to the lake to the east. Grim knew why he had come here, to see with his own eyes the grave of his former chief and role model, Gorfrunch. Grim walked out the southern door and down the ramp towards the grave that Ashenrock and the Grin had buried their long time chief. Grim turned west and stopped staring at Gor’s grave….it was disturbed! He ran to it and started to dig with his hands as some around him stopped and gasped at him. A couple of kids ran by ignoring Grim jumping over his legs catching his attention. He snapped back into reality and looked down in to an empty hole he just dug out in the last few minutes. Grimface was convinced, moved the dirt back in to place, and knelled bowing his head in reverence and respect.

Grim shot up, running to the mailbox and pulled out a piece of parchment and quill. He quickly scribbled:

“Grimnir,

I have seen the grave and it is disturbed; possibly empty. You have my axe and skills at your disposal. What do you require? If I have my option, I would like to be assigned with Signe as we are a dangerous team.

Grimface Skullsplitter”

Grim folded the letter over and shoved into the box quickly. He whistled for his drake as it started to rain. He looked up to see his drake dripping water all over him from above, “I bet you think that’s funny don’t you? Get down here; I have an urgent duty Emy!” The drake landed smiling and licked Grim’s face with affection. He Jumped on and the pair headed east for the santuary again, and from there to Orgrimmar. He walked into the portal and ran our front to the blimp to Warsong Hold. He rushed up the spire and had to dive to make it on to the blimp.

“Lucky devil,” said a goblin “you should have seen the last guy that did that and missed…made a huge mess!”

Grimface ignored the goblin and started to think like Gor would. He would be searching for alliance targets soft enough for a small group to invade and pillage…or would he. Grim had some time to think as the blimp soared through the air over the north of Kalimdor and great sea. He pondered what Gorfrunch was doing at this moment as it might give some insight to how to find him. Grim sat below deck thinking, planning, and at some points guessing what he would do in a situation like this. His first thought would be to get to Northrend unnoticed and out into the open where he would be much harder to track. He would also try to make contact with those who were loyal to him in his previous life.

Grim walked above deck as the blimp pulled into sight of Warsong Hold and docked. He strolled off and walked down the ramps watching every face that he passed. Grim was worried that the scout might have survived and alerted other Grin to his actions. Grim decided that it was best to leave the heavily populated fortress and find a bunk someplace less traveled. He ran to the nearest exit and called his drake again. Emy landed as Grim jumped on her back with great haste; “northeast” he said and she jumped into the air and took off with blazing speed.

“Our destination master?” Emy asked telepathically.

“K3”, he said “I can hide there.”

Felora turned into the snowy gale and squinted, glancing down again at the letter clutched in her gloved hand. Grimnir's scrawled handwriting lay neatly on the parchment, a bit smudged at the edges from her folding and unfolding it over and over. A fortnight had passed since she had left Revantusk Village - and Ashenrock - behind to return to her place in the Blacktooth Grin. The rumors of Gorfrunch's return were rampant in Stonard; not even a month gone and here she was, back in the snows of Northrend. Tamar moved beneath her, looking askance at her with frost forming on his nostrils. He lashed his tail and let out a low roar. Her kodo hated the cold. She reached down with a free hand to pat him, feeling the ring on her finger slip a bit inside the leather glove she wore.

--

Felora sat beside Ashenrock on the sands near Revantusk Village. The gentle, warm, breeze sailed gently through his hair. "Peace at last," he thought.

Two weeks had passed since they had returned from the harsh lands of Northrend. Demonstrike had left to find his redemption with the Grin. His brother had much to discover in his new life. Hopefully Demon would be able to forgive himself for his sins; Rock and the rest of his family had made it very clear that he was forgiven in their eyes. Hopefully that helped.

His father and the Betrayed had left last week, returning to Mulgore. Jin'tal was to learn from Salt how to hunt and become one with the wild. What a pair those two made. One couldn't let go of his sons and the other never really had a father. Rock felt that this was a perfect solution and kept him from feeling guilty about leaving his father all alone.

The only one who remained in Northrend was the human warlock, Kirtan. Humans were so strange and Kirtan was no exception. There was something in that building that consumed the old man…and he was willing to die alone searching for it.

Felora reached over and put her hand in his, squeezing it gently. He turned to look at her, finding that she was already gazing on him and smiling.

"You know I have to go back, Rock. The Grin is my home, my first family. This village is quaint…but duty always calls me back there," she said, her smile never faltering.

Rock knew it. "I'll stay here for a bit longer, if you don't mind. I'm still not fully healed, and I'd like to give my brother some more time on his own there. He'll think I'm looking over his shoulder if I go back too soon."

Felora nodded at him. "You worry about him far too much. I think we've seen that he's pretty capable now. Perhaps he needs you with him to help him along in his new journey?"

Rock shook his head. "I know my brother as well as he knows me. I would want some space if I were in his shoes."

The waves slowly rolled up onto the rocks before them, only to lazily retreat back into the sea. Ashenrock thought that such tranquility must be a mirage, an illusion amidst a bitter landscape. The war was waging all around them. This was his little bastion of peace. He couldn't endanger it by staying too long.

"I won't stay too much longer," he said. "I promise. I'll rejoin you and the Grin soon enough."

Felora suddenly grinned at him. "I certainly hope so. I'll wait a little while, but there are other Tauren around, you know." She laughed, teasing him.

Ashenrock suddenly stood up and turned to look down on her. He had a determined look on his face that made her a bit uneasy. He turned and reached into his pack, pulling from it a very large pearl and adamantite ring. He then knelt down before her and held it out.

"Marry me?" he asked. "Now that you are in my life, I couldn't imagine it without you."

Felora swallowed hard, gazing up at him. Her mind raced in a moment of surprised panic, and she realized that the panic was coming from him.

"How can I say no?" she asked. "We've been through a lot together, you and I. There's no one else that I would rather have by my side."

She smiled up at him and reached out to take the ring. "I will, Rock."

Ashenrock deftly turned her hand and slipped the ring onto her finger himself. She flushed prettily, making him grin as he settled back down beside her.

--

Ashenrock; he came suddenly to her thoughts. She doubted that he would approve of her going to meet Grimnir. The old orc seemed adamant in his belief that Gorfrunch was alive, but Felora had yet to truly rescind the blame she had put on the former chieftain for Faquarl's death. And yet...Grimnir's letter had been a sincere plea for help.

Questioning Gorfrunch - indeed, his very nature - caused Felora to question her place in her adopted clan. At its heart, the Blacktooth Grin was driven by the orcish ideals of war and bloodlust, deeply rooted in a conflict that stretched back hundreds of years. Gorfrunch had embraced those ideals to his last breath.

Despite her unorthodox training under Faquarl's wing, Felora continued to question and measure first, striking only if she saw it absolutely necessary. And it was her tenacious hold on that philosophy that had brought her to Agmar's Hammer in search of Grimnir. She would ask her questions, find where the answers might lie. And if what Grimnir said was true, then perhaps she would get the opportunity to ask Gorfrunch the one question that had been left unvoiced since his death - why?

Felora gripped the reins of Tamar's bridle and turned him down a fork in the road, past a snow-draped signpost guiding weary travelers to the Horde's closest bastion. She knew Yagyu's position on the rumors; now it was time to listen to what Grimnir had to say.

Hirken whipped his mace at the skeleton's kneecap, twisting it at an odd angle. It lost its balance and fell. Hirken kicked it over and put his boot on it's chest.

"You ambushed me, that is not like your kind on your own. Who sent you, what is your purpose?" Hirken asked.

The skeleton started cackling as it continued to try to get up and fight.

"Ahh, you can play dumb with the others. But I know you, your taint is different. You were the brains, thats why I saved you for last. Now, you will speak."

Hirken closed his eyes and channeled his will into the scourge, attempting to bind it to himself. "Now, let me ask again. What is your purpose?"

The skeleton shook, but was compelled to answer, "To... stop you... from your search."

Hirken pondered this. He wasn't searching for anything in particular, at least nothing the Lich King would be concerned about. "What is my name?" Hirken asked.

The skeleton laughed and said, "I don't know you, but we know this." The skeleton reached out and grabbed hold of the Blacktooth Grin tabard.

"I see, and what are we looking for?" Hirken asked.

The skeleton continued laughing, but didn't speak. Hirken could feel his brief control slipping. So the Lich King wanted to stop the grin from finding something. Hirken remembered in Stonard that Yagyu instructed the guild to look for the alliance posing as a dead leader. The Lich King wouldn't care about minor squabbles, this had to be something else.

The skeleton broke free of Hirken's will completely and began thrashing about.

"Let us see who this Gorfrunch is. Either he is back from the dead and the Lich King wants him dead, or the Lich King raised him. I was raised from the dead twice. If this Gorfrunch is deserving of half the respect the guild pays him, then he will be useful. I will either find him alive or undead. If he is undead, I will see if I can turn him with us. If I can't, well..."

Hirken brought his mace down on the skeleton's skull shattering it.

"I know how to deal with the Lich King's pawns."

Hirken mounted his undead gryphon and flew south to begin his search for Gorfrunch.

"Valiance Keep."

Grimnir stared in disbelief as his fellow Sythegar dusted down her riding wolf and began tying him to a nearby post. Signe patted the great beast briefly before turning. "That's what the note says, Grim."

Grimnir sighed, his head drooping. All around him the raging tempest of Zul'Drak beat down upon the frail sanctuary at Zim'Torga. The skies crackled angrily with lightning and the restless undead howled their relentless screams; the two combined to give the place an almost demonic rhythm. He'd been so sure that Gorfrunch would be drawn to this place...to the raw, unchanneled power that raged across the dying empire.

But now evidence seemed to point elsewhere. Grimnir watched as the orc huntress sat and carefully unstrung her bowstring. He frowned. "What else did the note say, Sig?"

"Said there'd be someone on a boat comin' into Valiance Keep next Monday, and made a lot of references to our 'mutual friend," Signe replied, her fingers working deftly. "Gotta be Gofrfrunch, right?"

"I guess." Grimnir scratched himself. "Yew think it's a trap?"

Signe shrugged almost imperceptibly. "How should I know? Maybe, maybe not. But we need information on our target, Grim. Even if it's not Gorfrunch...even if it's some impostor, we still need to track him down and get him back to the Chief."

Grimnir waited until the huntress had finished work on her weapon and laid her bow aside before speaking softly. "Sig...what if it's a trap?"

Signe grinned. "Then it's a trap."

Grimnir couldn't help but grin himself. "Heh. Awright. Yew go find Grimmy and Felora, an' tell 'em we need to doubletime it to Warsong Hold. Whatever they're workin' on, tell 'em to forget it and pack up. I gotta write a few notes an' I'll be right behind yew."

He returned the Sythegar's salute and turned to a makeshift stone desk he'd set up near the center of the ice troll sanctuary. He picks up a quill pen and begins to write in a small, scrawling hand.

Cailos,

At long last, our search may have borne fruit. Signe has received information that someone with information on our target might be coming into Valiance Keep by boat in two days time. It might be a long shot, and it might be a trap, but it's all we've got to work with right now.

I'm already making preparations to take my squad to the tundra. I might ecommend that you round up everyone you've got in New Agamand and head west with all possible speed. Gods willing, we'll rendezvous in Warsong Hold with enough time to coordinate an attack on Valiance.

Blood and thunder,
Grimnir

Grimnir neatly wraps the parchment into a small scroll and slips it onto the pigeon's leg. The bird chirps once and hops off his outstretched arm, winging its way south towards its destination. Grimnir stretches, joints popping all across his back as he resumes hunching over his desk. The pen scratches noisily against the rock as he writes:

Warchief,

We've received some information that suggests that someone with information about Gorfrunch - or his impostor - might be coming into Valiance Keep on an evening ship, in two days time. We can't guarantee anything about the quality of the information, but it's the only scrap we've managed to get in weeks.

Yagyu...I know we see this whole situation differently, and I know we've disagreed about how best to handle it. But we need to figure out what's going on here. If Gor really is back...well, I don't think either you or me can really understand what that might mean for the Clan, but it'll change everything. If it's some impostor, then we need to track him down and expose him for who he is before he subverts the Grin any further. Either way, though...we need to *know.* I hope you agree.

I've already sent word to Cailos and suggested he move his forces to Warsong with as much expedition as possible. Signe, Grimface, and Felora await only my sending this letter to begin our march to the west. If the winds are at our back, I shall see you on the Tundra with time to spare.

Take care of yourself, old friend. Aka'magosh.

-Grim

He repeats the process with a second pigeon and pushes himself to his feet, just in time to see his three compansions riding towards him with his frostwolf in toe. Felora smiles brightly at Grimnir and he can see the obvious worry behind her determinedly cheerful disposition.

"Ready, Grim?"

"Hurr," he rumbles affirmatively, hooking a leg over his aged frostwolf. "Lot of ground to cover, fellas. Valiance is a long way away. Let's get goin'."

As the Elves left his council Grimnir finally turned his attention to Demonstrike.

"What do you want, Pumastrike?" Grimnir mused with an air of irratability.

Demonstrike bowed his head a bit "Sir, Ashenrock wishes for me to join your expedition. He worries after Felora, though you and I both know that she is more than capable."

Grimnir sighed "If yer gonna be joining us than I expect you to follow strict orders"

Demonstrike again bowed his head "Of course, sir. What would you have me do?"

"Icecrown. It's one of the few places that we have left to search. Take Felora with you." Grimnir commanded

Demonstrike saluted Grimnir "As you wish. I will leave at once."

"Netherdrakes it's cold..." Zeverus mumbled. Puffs of wispy breath blew out of the airholes in his mask, numbing the smells around him. He flew near Naxxramas, the fortress of the dead, and Kel'thuzad's base of operations in Northrend. However, the Lich was not who he was searching for.

Gorfrunch.

The name sounded familiar, and the elven rogue had the misfortune of bumping into the same Orc that everyone was looking for, hours before everyone went looking for him. He had cursed his luck, yet there was little he could have done. How was he supposed to know that the angry orc who nearly cut him in two with a stare was the former warchief of the Grin? Little, he doubted.

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he flew lower on his Wyvern, trying to spot any traces of Gorfrunch's trail. The Dragonblight hid many things, the Orc among them. At least, that's what he believed. He had followed the tracks to here, after he got the order from Cailos to find what he could of the former warchief.

During his investigation he decided to brave asking Yagyu what he knew about Gorfrunch, and got an interesting chunk of information that helped the elf realize who he was dealing with. Yet despite what Yagyu had told him, Zeverus still wanted to bring this orc in alive. "Won't learn nothing if he's dead." he mused, stopping briefly to watch a Dwarf being pummeled by a Tauren below, just north of the Tuskarr village.

A low roar, not an uncommon sound in these wastes, as many creatures shouted and hollered in the snowy drifts. Yet this one was different, this one was... orcish? As the noise drifted in on the wind he snapped his neck to the source of the sound. His eyes couldn't see far enough, but his nose could...

With a click he tapped the button on his mask that withdrew some layers of mesh, letting in all the scents and stinks of the Dragonblight. Years ago the elf had an accident with Alchemy, and in his vain attempt to enhance all of his senses for a short time, only managed to permanently enhance his sense of smell. As he sniffed the air about him, he smelled many things: the stench of the undead, the warm cooking of the Tuskarr, the fresh crisp scent of snow... and also the smell of battle, and the smell of Orc. He flew to the North, pressing the button in his mask to dull the smells about him. As his wyvern sped to the source of the fight, a million thoughts raced through his mind: Was it Gorfrunch? Was it a generic Orc? Was it even living? Who, what, why, when?

Shaking his head he found a scene of battle, several dwarves, a few gnomes, and even a human and kel'dorei for spice. No Dreanei though, a shame. He wasn't very fond of the squidfaces, they didn't seem right to him. Taking out his ornate spyglass he spied the ground below, all below were dead, and no trace of any Orc... from this height. He flew down, landing with a light thud. He hopped off his Wyvern, patting it's helmed skull with his gloved hand, as he snooped about the scene of bloodshed and mayhem.

As he walked a Dwarf reached out and grabbed his ankle. In a blur of movement he twisted free and stood over the Dwarf, his bladed fist weapon upon the Dwarfs throat. The Dwarf snarled out something in his native tongue, which Zeverus knew some parts of...

"Came... to clean... up tha mess... eh? Elf?" the dwarf spat, blood oozing out of his mouth.

"Who did this?" He whispered in reply, his dwarvish rough and uncomfortable on his tongue.

The dwarf let out a bloody chuckle, coughing as his lungs filled with fluid. At last the dwarf was calm enough to speak, "One a yew... elf. One a yew... Grin types."

His eyes widened in surprise, glowing a slightly brighter green than usual. Was it true? Was it one of his own? Or was it Gorfrunch, carrying some shred of their standard? "An Orc? Who? Who did this?"

"Aye, elf. An Orc... tha most ferocious one I've seen in many years... He... was.. crazeh... but... deadleh..." with a final bout of coughing the dwarf lay still.

Pulling back his weapon, he stood, his cloak wrapped around his body for warmth. He prowled around the area, looking for any tracks that may lead him to what he sought... and he was fortunate, as he found the same tracks he had been tracking since Cailos sent him on this errand. Heading further North, to the large tower in the center of the Dragonblight...

"I'm going to find you... and then we'll see what all these stories are about..." With a grunt he climbed back onto his Wyvern and took off to the skies, flying as fast as he could along the tracks.

"Maybe my luck hasn't run out after all." he said, with a wicked grin beneath his mask.

Sitting alone in a Bar in Dalaran, Sharda sat sipping on some ale trying to clear her head. She never had know this Gorfrunch but she had heard many of the Grin speak so highly of their former Warchief. Knowing going against the current Warchief could mean her life, but she was willing to take that risk for without risk they is no chance at ever gaining power, and if everything she had heard about Grofrunch was true then well who knows the possibilities it could hold for her.

Reaching into her pack, she pulled out a piece of parchment, and a magical quill, speaking to the air the quill began to write.

" Dear Grimnir
I understand my time with the Blacktooth Grin hasn't been the longest, But i am willing to dedicate all my time and energy to your search if you will have me.

Sincerely
Sharda Shadowsun"

After folding and sealing the letter and whispering a enchantment that only Grimnir can open it. She placed the letter in one of the many magic mailboxes of Dalaran. "Lets hope it doesn't end up with the wrong person." She whispered.

"Now i must await his reply, but i must be back to my studies
for the time being." she said conjuring a portal that would take her to her private quarters.

Nothing.

Over a month of nothing.

Grimnir leaned over the zeppelin railing, watching the forlorn reaches of the Borean Tundra drop away into the rough Northern Ocean. Warsong's imposing spire had diminished to a mere speck on the horizon as the zeppelin headed south towards Tirisfal and the Undercity. From there, Grimnir would transfer to the zeppelin to Grom'gol, and make his long, lonely way back to Stonard.

The Search was finished. There was no Gorfrunch. There were only thousands of wasted hours and dozens of petered-out leads. Demonstrike and Felora had combed Icecrown. Grimface and Signe had searched every possible inch of Dragonblight. Hirken, Zeverus, Sharda...all had donated their valuable time and efforts to the search. And in the end...

Nothing.

Grimnir sighed, rubbing his face with a gnarled hand. It was all his fault. He'd been taken in by some...illusion. He'd wanted Gorfrunch to be alive so badly, and it had robbed him of reason and judgment. But now, at least, he would waste no more of the Grin's time. He'd sent word to everyone to abandon their search and return to Stonard. Campaigns needed to be plotted, a war in Northrend needed to be fought, and the newly bolstered forces of Stromgarde and Aerie Peak needed constant attention.

And he, Grimnir, needed to rest up for all of it. Nodding as kindly as possible at a young troll girl who peeped furtively at him from behind a wooden mast, the old shaman made his way down the stairs into the zeppelin interior, turning left into an empty stateroom. He sighed again, unbuckling his shield and allowing it to fall to the floor with the thud. He was about to do the same with his warhammer when a slight movement startled him. He looked up, and realized that the stateroom wasn't empty after all.

"My apologies," Grimnir muttered, bowing slightly before the figure slumped against the far wall. Wrapped in a dark cloak and seemingly inert, the figure made no response. Asleep, Grimnir imagined. He leaned over to collect his shield...and caught a flash of the eyes under the hood.

Red eyes. An orcish face.

It couldn't be.

Yagyu stared helplessly at the wall. Never had he allowed himself to believe that Gorfrunch was alive. Seeing his former leader was both a relief and a gut-wrenching experience. When he first saw the orc, he couldn’t believe it. He had felt like a simple Grunt again back at the old hideout in Dustwallow. But the old orc’s challenge had shocked him back into reality. With his entire clan watching he couldn’t simply give up the necklace. Or could he? As he recalled the tense stand-off Yag wondered if he had lost a golden opportunity. He could easily have handed off the necklace to the former Chieftain and been rid of all his worries. No more difficult decisions, no more responsibility for the deaths of his clan-mates. Simply the joy of fighting for his Clan. But Gor’s charge hit him like an enraged gryphon. He felt the stun of the shield across his face and suddenly he was no longer Yagyu the Warchief but he was once again Yagyu the grot. Yagyu the whelp, running to keep up with the Raiders who rode to war on their worgs while he and the rest were left to keep up as best they could or die.

But then Gorfrunch sneered and that sneer awoke something inside of him. Something Yagyu had not even known existed. He didn’t know what it was but he had felt it when Gorfrunch had collapsed in front of him. He had felt it as he opened the box and watched as Gor’s visage changed to one of helplessness. He had felt it even as Grimnir had looked on him with shock and confusion and anger. He had felt it when he sent the box back to his Warlock. He didn’t know what it was but he knew that whatever it was, it was time to give it free reign. And so he spoke to Gorfrunch with words he never would have thought possible in earlier days. He sent the old Warrior off like a dog to take his place in line with the rest.

Yes, his warriors. He knew there were still those who had looked at Gorfrunch with awe. Had the box not appeared they very well may have even fractured and followed the old Warchief. But they had simply stood by and watched. Perhaps too shocked to move, perhaps loyal, or perhaps a combination of both. Whatever the reason, none had openly challenged him and likely would not now.

He looked up above his door and sighed as he looked at the withered arm that hung above it. It was a reminder of honor. An honor he had sought for the clan and won with blood, sweat and tears.
Honor. He heard the words repeated in his mind as Grimnir spat them out. It had stung him more than any of the others. Grimnir thought him honorless for using demonic magic to hold his clan together? Would it have been more honorable to roll over and die? He felt anger well up in his chest as he recalled the look on Grimnir’s face. Who was he to lecture Yagyu about honor? Yagyu who had suffered the loss of his clan and the loss of his leaders twice. Yagyu who had given his very life to this clan. Yagyu Swobu’gol.

And that was when the Loyal Axe finally realized who his true master was and had always been. It was never Gorfrunch. It was never Faquarl. It had always been and would forever be the Blacktooth Grin.

In the safety of his room, Bok’theg’s trembling hand reached into the box and removed the gem. The power that it contained was so strong it was almost too much for him. Almost.

Yes he had given Yagyu the key to the box but he knew the Warrior Chief would never use it. Magic were simply beyond the Chieftain’s understanding. He only knew how to wield them in war. Bok’theg however knew how to tease them, manipulate them, coax them into service. He felt he knew them as he knew his own self. Now as he looked at the shard that held Gorfrunch’s very soul in check, he knew he finally had the power he had so long desired. And what was more, it had come by his own hand. No one had given it to him. The Shadow Council had not allowed him to have it. Even the elf witch who was so smug in her contract did not hold what he alone held in his very hands.

Ahhh…the contract…that was certainly an annoyance. He had at first cursed himself for his greed when he had returned to his room. But the taking of Gorfrunch’s soul changed all that. Never had he felt such power before. Not even in Eydrana’s room when he had felt the presence of the Smashblade did he feel the surge of power he felt now. No, this was worth the contract. He knew it. He gazed lovingly at the shard but resisted the urge to touch it and slowly closed the silver box. He knew that the fel power was still affecting him. He had known the result of the fight with Yagyu even before he saw the Warchief open the box and heard Grimnir’s protests. He had felt the pull of life towards the box and he had wondered if Eydrana’s blood dripped from her nose then as well.

He knew it was dangerous and doubtless it scared the elf witch but he was Summoner. He was used to the drain of life from his body. It was like a life-tap only on a much higher level. He would have to study on this and learn to mitigate its dangers. Then he would see about that contract…