Nazrug could hear the low growls and sound of bones splintering between the jaws of the giant Worgs. Each crack echoed from out of the Worg enclosure and across the yard, they had just arrived from Northrend along with the weapon shipment that he had requested, the General had ensured that the supplies had been delivered promptly. He ran his finger over an axe blade as he made his way over to the Worg enclosure. The Axe was sharp, good, made from the finest titan steel in Northrend, the weapons were excellent quality and he had every intention to make sure they were used to their full potential.
A sudden shift of wind and he picked up the scent, a set of red eyes glowed in the dark, watching his every movement. A low growl then followed and Nazrug noticed a long strand of Worg drool dip onto the floor. He knew how to respond to animals, he was a shaman after all, show them fear or weakness and they will tear out your throat. He drew closer to the Worg pen, the growl got deeper and more aggressive. Nazrug began to speak clearly and calmly, his eyes steadily fixed on the red glow.
“It is your instinct to fight to be the alpha, it is in your blood to challenge the head of the pack. The very reason you were born, to fight for and rule your lands.”
The Worg growled at his words as he walked closer and closer, both their eyes never leaving the lock, the stalemate they had created. Nazrug’s sharp fangs glinted in the dim torch light and his red tainted eyes burned, taking on a savage appearance. He could feel his blood boil and the adrenaline course through his veins. He knew that if the Worg wished it, it would tear through the flimsy wooden enclosure and rip him apart. But Nazrug showed no weakness, no fear, no hesitation.
“Well pup... Ashenvale is my land now, and I am the Alpha of this pack!”
He leapt forward, axe in hand and brought it down hard on the enclosure made from wood and steel. The loud clang rang out across the lumber camps and the Worg whimpered, with tail between his legs, he retreated to the back of the closure. Nazrug smirked, pointing the blade of the axe at the cowering Worg.
“I will be riding to battle on you.”
Nazrug knew that this was just the first of many encounters he would have to face as the new Alpha in Ashenvale. He also knew that the only way to get the results he wanted was to reach out and take every opportunity he could, armed with the finest weapons known to the clan and the unshakable courage on his men he could not fail.
He looked out into the forest, the dark shadows of nightfall masking everything outside the range of the Warsong torches. He certainly hoped that the Kal’dorei underestimated him, the look on the faces of the defeated is so much sweeter if they had never expected to be defeated. He already had his first target, the Outrider scouts had been searching for it for weeks. One of the Outriders had been standing there the whole time, his gaze fixed straight ahead as he waited for Nazrug’s presence.
“Silverwind refuge...” He growled.
The Outrider nodded, slung his axe over his shoulder and mounted his Worg. With a crack of his whip the Worg leapt forward and sped off in the direction of the Mor’shan base camp. He carried a message for the officers of the Outriders with the details of the attack. Nazrug’s face was stern as he turned and made his way back to Kargathia Keep, secretly hoped that the Outrider was intercepted by the enemy. Then everything would fall into place.
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For anyone interested:
We need body guards and soldiers for the night, this isn't going to be one of those meetings where people have to stand around and listen to what the officers discuss. I have plans for a great evening of entertainment.
Please give Katalmach or myself (Nazrug / Cato / Grush) a shout if you want in.
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