Boss Grunt

A rich sunset painted the sky in hues of pink and red and sent shafts of the dieing day streamign over mountains and forests, seeming to give the land one last embrace before the cold of night. Atop a mountain bordering the Swamp of Sorrows Gorum stood, the beauty of the day lost on the titan. In the fire of his blue eyes, he saw only death.

Gorum removed his helmet, exposing the newly lengthened scars on his face. This night the new Sythgar had done him a great honor, promoting him to Boss Grunt. With it came more responsibility and a not insignificant amount of danger considering the current workings of the Grin. The behemoth heaved a sigh. The Grin had been his home for over a year, in that time he had seen members die, lose their resolve, and even some traitors, all were things to be expected from any fighting force, but now.... Gorum Chaoseater, who was once Bloodhorn, was a soldier, had been even before his death. He sought nothing more than to destroy the enemies of his race and his clan, and to protect his comrades against the same. But now, the roles were becoming muddled. The warchief was often absent, Sythgar were dissapearing, and the Lak'gora....

The sunset faded, but The massive Tauren continued staring, still as a statue, only the blue fire of his eyes betraying any sense of life. The Lak'gora were a problem. It could come from his death prior to the orcs appearing on Azeroth, but Gorum did not understand their thirst for unnatural power. Almost as bad as the Blood Elves. He did not know what Boktheg was planning, only that this foolhardy quest for dark magics would lead the clan to ruin as it had for any demonic group before them. What pained Gorum even more was the involvment of his fellow Death Knights, they who should know better than any the tainting influence of the dark magic. He saw in Boktheg another Arthas, and in that he resolved that there would be no peace with the Orc so long as he continued down this path. But enemies swarmed at every turn, the Gol'kosh were precariously stationed, and the forces of Darkness seemed always to be on hand.

Gorum replaced his helmet and roared, calling forth the bones of his gryphon. He climbed on, and looked down from the mountain to the smoldering lights of Stonard. He thought once more of the whispered conversation with Malifika. The Lak'gora were a problem, yes, but Chaoseater had to question the decision of the Sythgar as well. The order to have all of them lashed for simple tardiness? He had more of a distaste for the Lak'gora than most, but personal vendettas must needs be put aside in the face of command. He wondered, not for the first time, if something might be influencing the new Sythgar, he had come back from a long absence somewhat different. Chaoseater glared through the visor of his helmet. It was time to get answers, the time for action was at hand, and Gorum would not allow some unseen force to tear apart the one home he had known. He just wondered silently if this time his strength would be enough.

Peace. A peace that Gorum had rarely known seemed to decend on him. He closed his blazing blue eyes, listening to the chirp of crickets, the hooting of an owl. This is what it was like in ages before memory. When the Tauren had roamed the land with the earthmother's guidance. Only they, and nature, to revel in the beuty of the night. With a harsh suddenness, the crickets stopped, all was silent. But the peace was fleeting, merely a the silence before a tempest. Gorum opened his eyes when he heard the first battlecry. There, through the trees rushed a line of the Knights of Dusk. Gorum slowly reached to his back, unsheathing his hammer. The weapon glowed red with internal light, calling out for blood. The Boss Grunt roared "CHARGE!" and dug his hooves into the flanks of his worg, beside him the line of grin did the same. They boiled forth, all black and red, omens of death, as they had been trained to be. Gorum had time to think one last time of the large number of Lak'Gora who rode with him, then battle was joined, and the time for thinking was over.

With a dexterity that ill-fitted his size, the massive tauren reared up on the back of his giant worg, and lept. His steed howled as it crashed into one of the Knights, ripping at the throat of it's mount. The mammoth death knight brought a fist into the chest of a knight and spun, his hammer striking a vicious blow to another. The latter knight's chest crumpled, and the body immediatly shriveled as his hammer absorbed its life essence. Chaoseater landed and rose to his feet as a shimmering field of blood rose around him. He looked around slowly, seeing Grin and Dusk soldier fighting all around. His Massive stature allowed him to see far over the heads of the combatants, and he put his advantage to good use. He pointed a massive gauntleted fist at a Draeni near the back of the Knight's formation "HEALER!" With a qucikness that made Gorum proud of their training, several of the Grin peeled away from their targets and spun towards the healer. The Alien Shaman was cut down with brutal efficiency, and the Knight line faltered slightly.

Chaoseater charged forward. Several Knights turned to engage him. He raised his hammer, and in his mind he heard the sentient weapon laugh with glee. The titan waited a moment longer, allowing the Knight's weapons to slice at him, he was impervious to their blows, and he waited until he saw it in the eyes of one of the Humans. He saw the fear as the pink monkey realized his fate, and began to turn as if to run. Then the abomination exploded, a whirling monolith of death. He slaughtered the Knights, his weapon revelling in the violence as the massive cords in his arms liquified them on impact. The burst finished, Chaoseater glanced around for a target. A scream from behind him seemed to cut through the din of battle around him. He spun, seeing Maycie, the fragile looking Blood Elf on her knees, a worgen rogue ready to drive a dagger down into her. Without thinking, Gorum roared and extended a hand, a sharp burst of purple lighting shot out, wrapping aroudn the rogue and ripping him back to the Death Knight. Chaoseater caught the worgen's head in his massive palm and squeezed, growling deep in his throat as he felt the dog's skull pop like a grape, He then whipped the lifeless corpse into another Knight who battled nearby, giving the Grin an advantage to finish him off. Finally, Gorum charged into a group fo three Knights who were being beset by two clansmen. He roared in fury as he hacked his Hammer through them, and when they fell there was silence again.

After a moment, a cry of victory went up from his troops. Chaoseater grunted in appreciation and resheathed his hammer, allowing his bloodshield to fade.

"Not so much hate for the Lak'Gora now, eh Boss Grunt?" came a voice from one of the Grin he had just assisted. Chaoseater tensed. It was Boktheg. He pretended not to hear.

"Back to Stonard for Debriefing grin!" He called and the bones of his Gryphon came whirling together. He climbed on and kicked the spectral beast into the air. Satisfied that the Grin were arrayed aroudn him, he flew off, leading them back home. During the short journey, with nothing but the cool night air to occupy him, Chaoseater thought of those final few moments. Maycie, Boktheg, the other members of the Lak'Gora. How easy it would have been to withdraw, leave them to the Knights. They were undoubtably skilled, but sheer numbers would have overwhelmed them,taking all of his problems away. But when it came to it, in the heat of battle, when one was truly one's self, he had assisted them. And when it came down to it, was that not the bottom of all his problems? The problem was not that the Lak'Gora were dangerous, Gorum knew how to handle danger, swift and precisely applied violence would toss away the dark magic users like they were nothing more than a viper. No, the problem was that when all was said and done, they were still his brothers and sisters. Herdmates. The Boss Grunt heaved a weary sigh as the Grin spun their way down from the skies into the camp at Stonard. "LINE UP GRIN!" his Herdmates sprang into neat lines, standign at attention. Gorum eyed them carefully, Grots and Grunts, Gol'kosh and Lak'gora all standing side by side. Time seemed to freeze. How does one remove a threat, when that threat is part of one's self....

((anyone else, feel free to post your thoughts on the ongoing Lak'gora/Gol'kosh rp events))

Pikki watched and waited and listened - her usual pastime as of late. Demolition and work with asplosives had taught her patience and attention to detail, and mostly not being too hasty without an escape plan. Her time so far as a Grot had been a learning experience, lots of"knowledge" to be filed away, and kept safe for the future.

She watched the huge Tauren with interest. He was her latest subject of study. She couldn't tell if it was his..."deadness" that intrigued her or the fact that he was so, what's the word...
Anyway, she had watched the magic users - dark and angry all the time, plotting and conniving and all...it reminded her of the cartel in some ways. Always looking for power and convincing themselves it was for the "good" of all.

**She sticks the end of a fuse in her moth and chews the tip as she continues her musings**

Her introduction last night to the GREED had opened her eyes to the possibilities open to her. She had worked for the cartel, briefly, before relocating to Fuselight and her work there as a field analyst. She enjoyed her job, but could see there was not a real future in it...eventually, there would be no rock close by to hide behind, or the fuse would be shorter than anticipated.

Spitting the end of the fuse on the ground, she stood and stretched, wincing as muscles popped. She had a bit more work to do before committing herself - she had a good idea which way she would turn. This...Boss Grunt, may pay well for an interesting tidbit here and there...