Patrolling the borders

Movrak spat a globule of blood from his mouth and into the ground.


Blood everywhere,


In his beard, on the snow, on his armour, on his weapons, in every crevice of every sick, horrible wound in every corpse that lay on the snow, green, slavering beast or good, brave dwarf.


The Ironbreaker shook his head and removed the axe that was imbedded in the head of a nearby green-skinned invader with a disgusting squelch sound that almost made him hurl the bile that was building up in his throat, with some grit he swallowed it, fumbling to grab his travel keg from his waist and opening it before taking a swig to wash out the after taste.


Movrak! Oi ! Over here !

A voice called, Movrak turned whilst hooking his retrieved axe on his waist and shouldering his hammer. He stalked up the slope, every other foot fall ending up in the body of one of the dead, with the sound of snapping bone, crumpling armour or squelch of insides that had somehow escaped from their owner greeting him.


Eventually he reached the brow of the hill, arching an eyebrow at one of the green-skinned invaders that was at that very moment being punched in the jaw by his Ironbreaker colleague, the beast snarled, drool flying everywhere as it slammed into the ground, fighting to push itself back up before being stopped by a plated boot coming down on its chest to hold it there.


Unintelligble words of a language that Movrak hoped he'd never have to hear again, the sound grated against his ears as the beast raged and raged, red eyes glowing with hellish fire, like a Dark Iron's.


What do you want with Khaz Modan, beast?! SPEAK!

Movrak's fellow soldier yelled, before slamming his other boot down on the invader's right arm, a snap and a howl of pain greeting him, despite himself Movrak grinned savagely. This was justice.


The beast howled for a long while, before hissing out words in barely understandable human common.

Take your land! Kill your people! For Doomhammer! For the Horde!.



Take Khaz Modan?! Ha! Look around, savage! What do you see everywhere? Your fellows! Dead! As will be the fate of all your kind for -daring- to step one smelly foot in -our- lands!

Despite the pain it must obviously be in the green-skinned aberration cackled.


This?! Just scouting force, little human! We are without number. We. Are. Horde!


ENOUGH! Movrak finally shouted, throwing his fellow soldier aside and bringing his hammer down into the beast's face. A loud cracking sound echoed through the small valley and after another disgusting squelching sound the executed slumped backwards, its body already beginning to cool.


Movrak panted, enraged by the gall of the invader. He eventually calmed down enough to snarl through gritted teeth.
Let's get back to the main army.


His fellow nodded, and after being joined by the survivors of the engagement Movrak, still with his hammer shouldered and staying alert for any ambush the craven savages might try began to march.

https://i.ibb.co/DwJTBbj/Borders.jpg

A notice of commendation for Ironbreaker Movrak Grudgebearer, for valour, skill and unflinching loyalty to the Kingdom of Ironforge:



On the [Date Censored] Ironbreaker Movrak led two Mountaineers to the defense of the Rockfist family as they fled from the orcish invaders after the collapse of the defensive lines and during the retreat to Ironforge.


In the words of Sir Rockfist: He fought like an Ironbreaker, he did! In ones, in twos and in threes the orcs came at him, and he batted them away like they was nothing!


It should be noted the above is grossly exaggerated, Ironbreaker Movrak suffered substantial wounds during the fighting, as the more modest Madam Rockfist pointed out: An orc drove an axe right across his back as he was dealing with another of them. A cowardly strike, but it sent him reeling forwards. Blood flew everywhere. Yet still he turned around, roared a challenge and smote the orc with a terrible blow of his hammer. Caught the beast completely by surprise, he did. Aye, showed them right and proper that you should never count a dwarf out until he's stopped breathing.


This is not myth-weaving. The wounds tended to by healers clearly back Madam Rockfist's words, Priest Tharin, who oversaw the healing process said: I can't believe he fought off eleven of those orcs. With the wounds he sustained by the sixth orc it was a wonder he could stand, let alone swing a weapon. Adrenaline and dwarven stubborness combined are formidable, it seems.


Sir Rockfist concluded that: Without him we'd be dead. We owe him our lives and hope he receives proper credit for such a heroic act. And I firmly believe the two Mountaineers who volunteered to join him should be rewarded post-humously as well.


Sirs, I believe that this is firm proof that Ironbreaker Movrak should be awarded the highest honour available in recognition of his actions.




Ever your servant,

Tharin.

An intercepted Horde communique:


The dwarven General known as Grimsteel is a formidable adversary. Despite his zealotry and hatred he knows nearly every tactic and tendency of our forces. He has studied the Horde well over the years, and is now applying skills learnt on the frontline to direct his Infantry with efficiency.


His combat skills are what you would expect, he is not one of those human Generals who hides in a tent whilst his soldiers fight. He has slain many of every race of the Horde whilst on the frontline, and is directly responsible for many more due to his soldiers, who he trains and teaches personally in regards to how to deal with each Horde race.


He appears to act on a whim, ordering his soldiers to far off lands for one month before drawing them back to Khaz Modan for another. He has certainly stepped foot in or at least heard/read in detail of every region in Azeroth. I am certain that this unpredictability however is rather predictable. He has some strategy at any time, it's just a matter of outthinking him - No mean feat I would say, but he can make mistakes, as evidenced by him not knowing what to do when faced with the blightbombs of the Rotgarde during engagements on the Thandol Span. Though it is safe to assume he has thought of a counter for it now.


He bleeds, he breaks and he can be worn out just like any other being. His known pro-dwarven stance can break relations with other Alliance military units, meaning we will often be just facing his Infantry and other dwarven forces alone, with no complimentary human flexibleness or elven agility. A house divided falls, as they say.


The Infantry and its General will not fall easily.



The sender was unknown. The letter unmarked. Presumed Orc spy.

damn bro this the first rp post i ever read, nice

I'm glad you liked it :)
More to come !

Cheers