10-29-2009, 06:07 PM
The preparations had been made, and there was no more putting it off... it was time to go.
They gathered where they had gathered since the early days; Ironsong Beach served them well. Sreng told them of his plans: he would make for the Goblin lands of Kezan, in the South Seas, and from there he would supply himself for a solo expedition. His objective was to seek what was left of the Darkspear homelands, and lead any survivors back to Durotar and the Horde.
He had faced fierce enemies with a courageous heart, but the idea of leaving his Tribe filled him with a secret fear. He would not show them that; they must believe in his confidence as ever they had. Kosath would lead the Tribe, under the mantle of Shieldbearer. It suited him like his invincible armor.
Meathook was turned out to hunt in the wilds of Durotar. Surely the beast-of-war would soon lead a pack of his own on many successful hunts. Sreng's rifle was carefully oiled and put on a wall in the guild hall; it would be of little use at sea. He brought only his spear, which was sure to be recognized as a symbol of totemic authority amongst the people of the isles.
The moot was harder than he thought. So many feelings... fear, excitement, love, loss, pride, and sorrow. They had turned out to see him off, and that fact moved his heart like none other.
Before leaving, he swore to his Tribe. They would see each other again, in this life or the next.
They gathered where they had gathered since the early days; Ironsong Beach served them well. Sreng told them of his plans: he would make for the Goblin lands of Kezan, in the South Seas, and from there he would supply himself for a solo expedition. His objective was to seek what was left of the Darkspear homelands, and lead any survivors back to Durotar and the Horde.
He had faced fierce enemies with a courageous heart, but the idea of leaving his Tribe filled him with a secret fear. He would not show them that; they must believe in his confidence as ever they had. Kosath would lead the Tribe, under the mantle of Shieldbearer. It suited him like his invincible armor.
Meathook was turned out to hunt in the wilds of Durotar. Surely the beast-of-war would soon lead a pack of his own on many successful hunts. Sreng's rifle was carefully oiled and put on a wall in the guild hall; it would be of little use at sea. He brought only his spear, which was sure to be recognized as a symbol of totemic authority amongst the people of the isles.
The moot was harder than he thought. So many feelings... fear, excitement, love, loss, pride, and sorrow. They had turned out to see him off, and that fact moved his heart like none other.
Before leaving, he swore to his Tribe. They would see each other again, in this life or the next.