Post by Neonhyper
Yes, I'm leaving you all with something. I'm gonna be heading out of town tomorrow morning for five days, I'll be back Saturday night/Sunday sometime, depending on when I get back. :D So to compensate, here's the next chapter of Striding.
Lots of screaming in this episode, most of the capslock that would be in here has been severely reduced for the preservation of your eyesight.
If you missed it here's the first chapter
Greyhoof had gone ahead of the caravan as the wagons pulled in past the iron gates of Agmar’s Hammer. The wagons were stopped by guards who checked over the inventory of the supplies being transported, and after everything was clear, the caravan and its soldiers were allowed into the Horde fortress. Nasia separated from the rest of the group almost immediately; she decided she was going to spend some time thinking to herself while all the items they had transported got stored or handed out.
” Nasia heard the tauren captain yell.
“...great...” The elf muttered, turning around to see Greyhoof walking towards her, “What do you want?”
“I want you to know... and this pains me greatly to say,” the captain started, “that your performance today was admirable. Now, don’t let that get to your head, you’re still the little thieving elf brat.”
Nasia managed to laugh, “Why thank you, Lord Greyhoof, your abilities in holding two giant weapons was once again merciless.”
Greyhoof grunted slightly to cover up his chuckle at Nasia’s partial-sarcasm, “You’re going to need to get acquainted with Agmar’s Hammer; we’ll be spending a lot of time here until Garrosh comes from Warsong Hold to lead us into war.”
The blood elf watched as the tauren left towards the main keep of, she figured he was going to go and talk to the Overlord. She smirked to herself and weaved her way among her fellow comrades, heading towards the supplies in the middle of the courtyard. As she walked, she saw some of the blood elven priests, mages, and other rangers gossiping amongst themselves. An occasional finger was jabbed in the scout’s direction, which caused Nasia to clench her jaw together in annoyance.
She turned and barked in their direction, “If you’re going to say things about me, say it to my face!”
The other elves backed off, and Nasia returned to the wagons stationed near the fire burning in the center of town. She checked through the armor, pulling out pieces to a black mail combat suit, trimmed with red. After she got all the pieces out that she could find, she removed a tabard sporting the emblem of the Warsong Offensive.
Before she could move off to put on the new armor, Overlord Agmar stepped out with Greyhoof at his heels. The large, bronze plated, orc leader raised his voice.
“Warriors of the Horde! Gather together!
Luther cracked open the crate that held his armor with a sigh. Dust rose into the air as soon as the wooden lid came off. The warrior leaned in and wrinkled his nose at the musty smell that lingered inside.
“Didn’t think it had been so long since you last put your armor on,” James commented, he had already taken his armor out with an enthusiasm that Luther lacked immensely.
“It’s been a very long time.” Luther muttered. He removed his breastplate from the crate, along with his shoulderpads and gauntlets. He paused to cough again before bringing anything else out.
“If you need help remembering how to put it on, I can help!” His friend snickered.
Luther rolled his eyes, removing the legguards and boots. He then pulled out the helmet, staring into the bright blue visor that went over the eyes and caused them to have a slight glow. With a hard gulp, he set it aside and dug out his longswords before putting the lid back on the crate.
“Come on, let’s just get suited up and ready to go.” He muttered, and the two men helped each other strap their armor on.
“Wyrmbane said that King Wrynn will be arriving any day,” James said, clicking one of the straps on Luther’s breastplate.
“Hopefully the Horde doesn’t attack before he gets here.” Luther replied, latching his wrist guards on and pulling his gauntlets up over them.
“Good point.” James put his belt on, and used a shoulder strap to carry his claymore sheath.
“You almost set to go?” Luther glanced over at his friend while attaching his longswords to his own belt and placing his helmet on his head.
“Yeah, let’s get going before Wyrmbane really gives you a lecture.”
The two men exited the barracks and met outside, where many men and women of the Alliance were gathered. A man in gold armor stood before the crowds of human soldiers, dwarven riflemen, gnomish engineers, elven rangers, and draenei vindicators. He called out to the people there, confidence in his voice.
“We have been here before, many and most of us. Preparing for a war to combat our enemies, those with no hearts, who do not care that they have slaughtered so many of our people in cold blood. Now here we are again, and now it is time for our revenge. We will show them how we feel. We will vanquish them beneath our blades; the Horde will no longer be able to destroy us if we conquer them first! They have taken arms against us; now let us show them what happens when they challenge the might of the Alliance!” He said.
The people gathered around cheered, Luther smiled, and James high-fived him. Halford Wyrmbane continued with an air of calm about him.
“Perhaps in day’s time the Horde will sit around the fires and sing songs of mourning for the loss of their people. The might orc will fall the strength of a valiant paladin’s hammer. The savage troll will fall to the arrow of a cunning elf....” Wyrmbane paused, allowing the thoughts to sink in, “Who is to say what will happen out on that battlefield when we go to meet the horde? But I am certain of one thing. The Alliance WILL BE VICTORIOUS!
He allowed time for the Alliance to show their joy in knowing about the coming victory. They cheered, they cried in happiness, and then they began talking amongst each other. James and Luther stood off to the side.
“He seems overly confident.” Luther muttered.
“Don’t sweat it; he’s right, that’s why he’s confident.” James nodded, “The Horde were stupid enough to make it obvious they were preparing for war, so now they’re gonna get bit in the behind ‘cause of it.”
“I can only think that something terrible is going to come out of this, however.” Luther sighed, looking over his shoulder.
“Blood and thunder, warriors!
When we go out onto that battlefield, we will not simply be putting an end to a threat to our great faction. We will be ensuring the lives of our wise elders, civilians, and children! Imagine the pain your heart as you left your child for war. Would you have it multiplied a thousand fold by those Alliance scum, who would take their lives, and leave in clear conscious? If not, then we shall go and wreak havocs of the likes which those pathetic excuses for warriors have never seen!”
Overlord Agmar stood before the soldiers of the Horde, his voice shouting across the courtyard of their fortress. The warriors, medics, rangers, everyone listened intently as he spoke.
“They will smell fear in the rotting Alliance corpses, and on the blades of our soldiers! We will march into that field and we will shake Varian Wrynn to his very core! His pathetic army will cower before our strength! Before the might of the Horde! When the light leaves his eyes as the final blow is struck upon their weakling King, his final thought will be ‘I have failed’. LOK’TAR OGAR! FOR THE HORDE!
On Agmar’s final words, the Horde burst out into shouts, “LOK’TAR OGAR!”
Greyhoof stood beside the Overlord, grinning, “The Horde will be the victor in this trivial battle.
The Alliance thinks they can beat us, they are no match for our might.”
Agmar nodded at Greyhoof, “You are correct.”
“Garrosh will be arriving soon, right?” The tauren asked.
“Of course, he will lead us into this battle.”
Nasia stood in the way back of the crowd, she heard Agmar’s words, and she believed the Horde would win...but... Will it be as fulfilling as we believe?