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Vor'tok's Absence (Probably PG13!) -- Chapters 1 & 2
#1
Hello everyone! I've returned to the game, temporarily at least, and I'm glad to be back! Unfortunately, I'm not going to be playing Vor'tok until I have the story revolving around his absence completed; however, I will be playing my other characters (Grol'kosh and Bran'acor) in the mean time, so look out for them! The first two chapters, in this thread, take place before Vor'tok's departure, then the rest of the story takes place while he's gone. The story ends just before I bring Vor back in to the game. As stated, here are the first two chapters. I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 1 -- Sword in the Dark

The sound of a marching army: the heavy footsteps hammering in unison at a furious pace, the heavy breathing of armor-clad warriors who have been marching relentlessly, the clanking of steel, the sharp barks of commanders ordering their troops. The sound was awe-inspiring. But that's all there was. Sound. Vor'tok looked around him, but there was just blackness. No lit torches, no glinting of the moon on his brethrens armor, no stars in the sky. He let his gaze fall back to his feet, only there were no feet, nor any other visible part of his body, just the darkness and the sound.

"Damn fog," Vor thought to himself, though the darkness was the least of his worries. He was not mounted, he realized, nor did he know why or even where his trusted wolf was being kept, and this bothered him. What bothered him more was he could not remember anything else either. How long had he been marching? Hours? Days maybe? And where was he marching to? Was there a battle? A raid? But what bothered the orc most, was the fact that he did not know with whom he was marching. He could tell he was marching with fellow orcs by the sound, but that was the only clue given him. There was no sign of his friend and former mentor, Kretol, or of his close comrades, Chiokai, Makul, and Keerth, or of any of the Ironsong Tribe, of whom he had come to regard as his family.

Suddenly one of the commanding officers ahead of him boomed a thundering war-cry. Vor'tok knew this as the signal that the enemy was in sight, and marching head on to them, as did all the rest of the warriors, because the whole army had picked up the pace to a full run in sync with Vor. A fierce grin broke across his face; the orcs had the advantage for he felt the terrain beneath him decline sharply. At the sound of the two armies colliding just ahead of Vor'tok, closer than he had expected considering he could still see nothing, he unstrapped his large mace and braced his shoulders as his feet carried him full speed to what would be a neck-breaking collisiong with those in front of him if he was not careful in this darkness. The collision came. He felt the mob lurch forward as his line crashed into their backs. He was stunned for a moment too long; the line behind his came crashing down on him. This knocked the breath out of him, but it put his body and mind into motion. Acting quickly now, he dropped his shoulders and began pushing his way thorugh the mob before the next wave of orcs came hurling down on him in the dark.

Vor'tok had always been shorter than most of his brethren, although he was every bit as broad and as stout, thus making shoving his way through the lines much easier for him than most. The sound was deafening in the pack, and just grew louder the closer he was to the frontline. Yet that's all there was, still only sound. Someone's axe nicked him in the dark, disappointing him somewhat as he hated to bleed before he was even in the fray. Finally he broke through the lines, he felt open space before him but there was still only darkness. Instinctively, he dropped to one knee to avoid being stuck until he could see something... anything, before-

It was too late; a sharp, piercing pain rippled through his body as the sword cracked through his chest, continuing through him until it ripped out his back. He strained to see who had killed him, or even the blade in his body, but there was nothing. Out of rage for his attacker, rage for his death, and rage for all this damned darkness, Vor'tok roared for all he was worth and struggled to stand, struggled to raise his hammer so he could at least take his killer out with him. Then a new, wrenching pain raced through him, ending his roar in a gasp and causing him to fall once more, to both knees this time. The bastard had run him through with what Vor figured was a claymore judging by the width and length of the blade in him, not that it really mattered now but these are just the things a warrior thinks about, and had twisted it once it was through him.

Knowing he was now too weak to wield his mace, Vor let it drop and let his hands fall to his sides. He hung his head. He would appear to have given in, but he would be damned if he was going to quit fighting while there was still life in him. The one who stabbed him would have to pull his blade out sometime, and when he did, Vor'tok intended to lunge forward, grasp his hands around the fool's throat, and squeeze until they both were dead....the pull came. Despite the searing pain, Vor kicked off into the air. He was completely airborne now with hands outstretched, seeking their target. Then came the light, then the mouthful of dirt....

Rolling over to his back, Vor'tok coughed out the dirt and rubbed his eyes. After blinking a few times to adjust to this new light, he looked around and realized where he was. Durotar. He had been dreaming. He had been more than dreaming, he had been sleep-walking as well. Sitting up, he saw that he was in the middle of the road with the front gates of Orgrimmar a good five miles or more north of him. Looking to the sky, he figured it was early still; perhaps no one had seen him. He climbed to his feet and began walking back to the city, rubbing his aching chest.
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#2
Chapter 2 -- Vor'tok's Departure

The cold falls were refreshing and rejuvenated the weary orc. The water fall in the Valley of Honor was always Vor'tok's first stop after any battle, and after the night's dream, he felt as if he had been fighting a battle that morning... a losing one. Besides, the walk back to Orgrimmar had been hot, and his chest ached the whole way. It ached even still. He had attempted a few healing spells, but they had done nothing for him. He was trying to recall what herbs he had stashed away, thinking maybe he could have an alchemist make an ointment for him, when he heard a voice behind him, gruff but friendly, and very familiar.

"Just now waking up, whelp?" asked Kretol with a smile.
"No... maybe, what's it to you, you old cur?" Vor'tok smirked.
"Well, I've been looking for you all morning and most of the night. The horns sounded at the west gate. Did they not wake you up?"
"No... no they didn't. What did I miss?"
"Nothing. False alarm. A guard at the gate heard fighting across the bridge and sounded the alarm. It turns out the guards across the bridge had been having... a conflict, for the past few days that broke out into a fist fight this morning." Kretol frowned as Vor'tok started laughing, "It was actually pretty bad, Vor. A few people showed up and tried to break them apart. When that happened, the two guards started ganging up on everyone that was getting in their way of each other! By the time I arrived, they had already knocked out the two guards from the gate, threw a tauren over the bridge into the river, and were swinging their axes around wildly trying to cut down each other and everyone else around."
"Wha-what did you do?" Vor'tok gasped, gasping because he was now really laughing hard.
"Gave 'em a dose of lightning. Nothing too severe, just enough to knock them off their feet." Kretol smirked, "I have them both cleaning the kodo pins right now."
"Well, that should definantly teach them not to fool around while on watch." Vor chuckled as he was climbing out of the pool. "They were just lucky I wasn't there, I wouldn't have been so eas-" Vor clinched, the pain exploding in his chest cut him off.
"What's wrong?" asked Kretol, his voice demanding but his face full of concern.
"Nothing." Vor responded sternly, giving Kretol a look that let him know this was not up for conversation. Knowing Vor's stubborness, Kretol merely nodded.

It was night now. Kretol and Vor'tok had been patrolling Durotar all day after responding to some rogue attacks in Razor Hill, and were riding into Orgrimmar. To their disappointment, it had not been much of a battle. Nothing but a couple of very brave and very stupid humans who thought they held an old grudge of which they knew nothing about, and knew even less about combat. Vor'tok had been quiet and downcast the whole day, and Kretol, being ever observant, had noticed.

"So, what's been bothering you today, Vor?" Kretol asked in a manner telling Vor'tok that nothing was not going to be a satisfactory answer this time.
"Nothing." answered Vor in all his stubborness. Kretol merely kept his gaze thick and steady upon Vor'tok. Finally, Vor broke down. "I had a dream last night."
"Care to elaborate?"
"I died."
"In battle?" inquired Kretol.
"Dabu."
Kretol smirked, "I must have not been there then, eh?"
Vor'tok forced himself to smile. "Of course you weren't, why do you think I died?" he said with a wink. Kretol just chuckled. It was back to silence as they rode. Vor stole a glance at Kretol, he was looking away. He rubbed his chest.
"What's with your chest, Vor'tok?" Kretol said, still looking in the opposite direction of Vor, with such suddeness that Vor'tok's hand was stilled. He then turned his head to Vor. "You've been doing that all day... and don't you say nothing." he finished as the all too familiar response began to form."
"To be honest, I'm not sure. I've tried healing it myself, but to no avail. I need to go pick up an ointment from the alchemist shop, it should be ready by now."
"Let me take a look at it first."
"Of course, Kretol."
They dismounted and tied up their wolves. Kretol examined his friend's chest closely, "Strange, there's no physical sign of injury or strain. Not even a bruise..."
"It's the spot where.... well, where I was stabbed, in my dream." There eyes met. A air seriousness forming between them. Then Vor snapped out of it and gave a forced chuckle. "Of course that's just coincidence. There's no such thing as an injury accuring in a dream and sustaining after awaking!"
"Aye... of course not...." said Kretol, not all too convincing.
"On a more serious note though, I think I may go for a walk tomorrow."
A stern look crossed Kretol's face. He sighed, "I assume by 'a walk' you mean one of your two or three week escapades you like to take where no one can find you?" Vor just nodded. "This dream has you that shaken up, does it?" Vor just nodded once more. After a moment of silence, Kretol asked, "Into the Barrens this time?"
"Nar, I think I may stay in Durotar again... plenty of red dirt out there I haven't seen yet." Vor replied smirking.
"Well then, be safe, little brother." smiled Kretol, extending his hand.
"Never!" scoffed Vor'tok sarcastically as he clasped his friend's forearm, in the Orcish manner, in a warm farewell.

They went their separate ways then, Kretol to "attend to business," as he would put it, and Vor to get his ointment and some sleep. That morning, Vor arose early, ensured his wolf, armor, and his weapons would be cared for while he was gone, gathered a small ration of food and water, and set off. A few hundred yards later, as the sun was just rising, a strange notion took hold of Vor'tok, forcing him to look back around at Orgrimmar. After gazing a few minutes upon the massive front gate, set into the huge stone wall with massive bone spikes for support, Vor turned back around, left the road, and made his own path into the red desert, towards the high red plateaus on the horizon.


Feel free to post replies after the chapters as each chapter posted from here on out shall be in it's own thread.
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