Road to Stonewatch
The aspiring ranger was up before first light. Today she intended to scout that orc war camp, to see if she could see the worg pens for herself. It would be quite the hike, down past the contested Alther's Mill and along the steep cliffs to Stonewatch. She had only planned to scout the location today and formulate a plan. In her youthful ignorance, she had no idea just how dangerous an excursion into these lands would be.
There were accomplished scouts that did often go into these contested zones alone, but they were highly experienced and most often elves. One must have the keenest of senses to traverse this dangerous ground. Many orc encampments sprawled forward of the great stone keep that the Blackrock orcs had appropriated and made Gath'llzogg's stronghold. Orcish sentries were constantly on the lookout.
She made good time and reached Alther's Mill well before the sun reached midday in the open blue sky. The great lumber mill stood quiet, but she shuddered as she could see the traces of recent violence here. The white of bones and rusted weapons littered the old battle site, buried in the shifting sand. This was a no man's land.
She kept to the far side of the cliffs, just feet from the deep drop off into the head of Lake Everstill, one wrong step from this height could spell death, with a fall from the cliffs onto the murloc-infested rocks below. Sasha though was sure-footed and made her way by mid-afternoon to within sight of Stonewatch. She could see the well-traveled road running up into the keep. The tall stone tower and the columns of savage orc guards hard worked at drills, positioned beyond.
She hid in some dense bushes and assessed the area with her raven's eyes missing nothing, her bow in hand knocked lest she be taken by surprise. To her disappointment, there were no worg pens here.
They must still be further inland,
she thought.
Though it was getting late she decided to press on. She did not intend to return until she had the intelligence she sought.
Of course! she stated suddenly and triumphantly in her mind. How foolish of me, there are probably more camps close to Keeshan's post. Father served there, and that's most likely where he saw them!"
Galvanized by that thought she carefully backtracked north. The post was probably located some two miles distant, she had never been there, but her Father had told her it was a dismal little military forward camp, consisting of only a few tents and some defensive structures built into the hillside around it. There was also the reason for its name, a large wooden post that jutted skyward defiantly in the middle of the site, on a hillock overlooking the wide valley below. It was called Keeshan's Post, named after a very celebrated soldier John.J.Keeshan. Head of the Bravo company.
She loved to hear all her Father's war stories, and this charismatic and brave man had a mention. He had been taken prisoner by the feared Blackrock orcs. Somehow he survived that cruel captivity and escaped. She tried to remember the rest of the tale, but her mind was diverted by the presence of an armed orc patrol somewhere ahead of her.
She froze and hid behind a large rocky outcrop, bow clutched in her hands ready to fire. She could not see them well as they passed by obscured by trees. There were three of them, all armed with huge war axes. She must be close now, and she would have to focus on the task at hand and not be so easily distracted.
The afternoon was growing late, and the sun was sinking behind her, it lent a light to the red earth that took on the specter of a world bathed in blood. Inadvertently she shivered. It felt like an omen.
This initial scouting mission had taken far longer than she had planned. If only she had scouted this destination earlier in the day. She could see the array of small campfires through the treeline before her, and smell the aroma of cooking meat. So orcs actually do cook? I would have suspected with those tusks they just ate their meat raw. Her Father had always said they were complete savages, little more than animals.
Ever so slowly Sasha closed the gap, easing herself closer and closer to the encampment so she could see better. She so loved this ranger stuff, it was indeed exhilarating. It was then she saw it, a pen made of tightly woven tree branches, secured with knotted rope, the very thing she had been seeking.
Housed within seven young worg pups! Soft gray balls, rolling and cavorting in playful abandon giving no indication of the slavering killers they would become. They must have been weaning them from their mother Sasha mused. The young, aspiring hunter was somewhat taken aback, they were for such young creatures unusually large, already the size of hunting hounds.
Sasha had not anticipated their great size, and she fretted at just how she would even manage to carry one away. This was a rather large setback in her plan that she had not foreseen. So as it grew dark she waited, she was here now and there was no real reason she could find not to attempt this tonight. Deciding that once it got dark and the camp quieted she would make her move.
Being so close to her dream Sasha allowed her thoughts to return to her domestic dilemma. The one that had sent her running here in the first place. When she returned home triumphant with that pup at her side, surely she would be considered then for the hunter academy? The training would be long and far away from Stormwind, and after that she could expect a deployment. She hoped by that time poor Graham Trias would have lost interest, and settled down with another woman. She knew his Father Elling Trias would relentlessly push him toward marriage and an heir, and this whole confusing mess could be dispensed with.
She had waited hours, it was cool and she huddled in her oilskin jacket being mindful to be as silent and still as possible. The fires that dotted the encampment died down to coals, and one by one all but a few of the orcs went to their sleeping places.
Now Sasha knew that camp life could be rough and that soldiers often had to make do sleeping in their bedrolls on the bare earth, but these orcs confounded her, many only laying down on a shaggy hide with no coverings at all to guard against the chill. Some didn't even do that, they just seemed content to lay on the bare earth, sleeping soundly. Yes, they were the savages as everyone described.
Finally, it was time...
She put her bow down with great caution and slowly crept forward. The moon had not risen yet and it gave her good cover as she stayed shrouded in the shadows. The orc warriors in their slumber snored and grunted. Slowly she edged toward the cage and the prize she had so long coveted. She eased her knife from her belt, and slowly began sawing at the ropes that held the puppy pen together. The blade though small was sharp, and the ropes frayed and came away easily.
She scanned about her as she worked but she could hear no one close. Reassured she went back to work as the curious pups began to nuzzle and fuss by her fingers. She could hardly wait to take possession of one.
A great hand fell on her then from out of the darkness, it was to her horror immense. Sasha jumped in fright, reflexively ramming her blade into the giant's arm. The orc roared in pain, at once jerking out her blade like it was no more than a bothersome splinter and sending it skittering away across the rocks with a metallic clatter, and its golden eyes that were on her shone even in the darkness.
She had not heard him,
how could such a huge creature move so silently!
She was firmly imprisoned in the monster's grasp, Sasha squirmed, twisting about to face her fearsome attacker. She was not at all fortified by the vision that greeted her. He was a huge tusked and toothed orc, and unlike many of his kind, he stood erect to his full seven foot height. Sasha who barely made five feet in shoes knew she would be no match for the wall of muscled mightiness that held her so inescapably in one hand.
His skin was of the deepest brown, and completely free of the tribal markings that many of the orcs had tattooed or scarified onto their bodies. His hair was of the darkest shade of blue-black, it was straight, long, and shone with health. His hairline did not recede as was the norm for most orc males, a long mane hung down either side of his face and partially obscured his fierce golden eyes that were studying her avariciously. The rest of his generous hair was bundled into a high ponytail wrapped with leather, even so, it still reached part way down his back. She could not stop looking at his huge gold nose ring, it had to be made of solid gold!
She struggled, but the gesture was futile. He simply picked her up, crushing her bow underfoot as though it were a mere twig, and put her over his broad shoulder to carry her back to camp.
