Post by Xardria on Dec 10, 2014 16:32:43 GMT -6
Jen crouched low in a feral manner, watching the small Iron horde camp beneath her. The orcs were gathered around a flame as a particularly large one spoke loudly to the group, the occasional shout or cheer would echo from the crowd. She recognized the large one, Fenron gorespike. He was a nasty piece of work, even for an orc.
The Alliance had contacted Jen to potentially neutralize the threat, to pay back her rather free use of Alliance services across Draenor. Now, as a lioness stalking her prey, she waited, waited until she knew the moment was perfect. Hours passed of the rally, but when it finally broke, the orcs went back to a series of different tents, the fire put out, and watches set. She marked each watch mentally and prepared her strike. The orcish leader was smart, he was not in the largest tent, that was reserved for the clan's forgemaster, she had become accustomed to their means of preparation and defense. She slid down the rock face quietly, drawing a blade from her side and sneaking her way towards her mentally marked tent.
The blade didn't gleam with the sunshine, it didn't glide through the wind like the deft wings of a bird, but rather it was a crude thing, meant to get the job done efficiently and quickly. She managed to evade the guards on watch, Iron horde lookouts were meant for a military, not an assassin slipping her way through the camp. She peeks into the tent's opening, seeing the slumbering orc opposite to her in the room, between them a small fire. She creeps her way forward, careful to watch the ground for anything to produce noise, creeping closer and closer, raising her blade for the death blow. As she brings it down to the orc's throat, she feels something resembling cold steel touching her own throat. A faint feminine voice whispers to her, "Cut him, and I cut you." Jen froze, something about the voice caused her blood to freeze over with fear. She slowly turned, there was nothing there, just the entrance to the tent, the fire, and the harsh world.
She took a moment to reassess the situation, taking the time to flee the orcish camp in stealth. What was this voice? Was it human? Why did it protect the orc? Where did it go? All of these questions haunted Jen as she returned a failure to the vanguard keep. A failure... This drew Jen to the nearest brazier, she watched it, remembeing how she punished her failures in the past. No, not this time... She would not be defeated this time. With a reassured sigh, she went about her duty in the keep, warning a few of the vanguard watchmen to keep on an extra alert watch, just in case.
The Alliance had contacted Jen to potentially neutralize the threat, to pay back her rather free use of Alliance services across Draenor. Now, as a lioness stalking her prey, she waited, waited until she knew the moment was perfect. Hours passed of the rally, but when it finally broke, the orcs went back to a series of different tents, the fire put out, and watches set. She marked each watch mentally and prepared her strike. The orcish leader was smart, he was not in the largest tent, that was reserved for the clan's forgemaster, she had become accustomed to their means of preparation and defense. She slid down the rock face quietly, drawing a blade from her side and sneaking her way towards her mentally marked tent.
The blade didn't gleam with the sunshine, it didn't glide through the wind like the deft wings of a bird, but rather it was a crude thing, meant to get the job done efficiently and quickly. She managed to evade the guards on watch, Iron horde lookouts were meant for a military, not an assassin slipping her way through the camp. She peeks into the tent's opening, seeing the slumbering orc opposite to her in the room, between them a small fire. She creeps her way forward, careful to watch the ground for anything to produce noise, creeping closer and closer, raising her blade for the death blow. As she brings it down to the orc's throat, she feels something resembling cold steel touching her own throat. A faint feminine voice whispers to her, "Cut him, and I cut you." Jen froze, something about the voice caused her blood to freeze over with fear. She slowly turned, there was nothing there, just the entrance to the tent, the fire, and the harsh world.
She took a moment to reassess the situation, taking the time to flee the orcish camp in stealth. What was this voice? Was it human? Why did it protect the orc? Where did it go? All of these questions haunted Jen as she returned a failure to the vanguard keep. A failure... This drew Jen to the nearest brazier, she watched it, remembeing how she punished her failures in the past. No, not this time... She would not be defeated this time. With a reassured sigh, she went about her duty in the keep, warning a few of the vanguard watchmen to keep on an extra alert watch, just in case.
in the process of getting it all done now. so feel free to whispers me if you have any questions or use my battletag Embershade#1485