Dwarven blood, Iron Bonds

https://i.ibb.co/yf0jgc6/Dwarf.webp

It ain't bin long since I joined with tha Khaz Modan Infantry, but I can tell ye two thin's, they know 'ow ta drink an they know 'ow ta fight, sometimes both at tha same time.



It's tha' time o't year again. Brewfest. N'er has their bin a better 'scuse to get rip roarin' drunk an start a few scraps wi' those that say a dwarf cannae 'old 'is drink.


Oh tha grand ol' Duke of Eastvale, 'e only had ten men, 'e marched them inta a murloc camp an were never seen again. a deep dwarvish voice sang across the festival.


Chuckles came from the visitors and stall standers as they watched the drunken chestnut bearded dwarf stumble onto a table.


Stick round lads an lasses, I got more fer ya !

The long bearded dwarf takes in a deep breath and a complimentary flagon of Barleybrew and throws the empty flagon at the Ogre stand.
Big green orcy sat on a wall, big green orcy had a great fall...all the kings 'orses an all tha kings men jus kept stabbin 'im again an again.


The crowd went wild for the intoxicated dwarf. Movrak looked out amongst the cheering drunken Alliance members followed by the blurred beer soaked grass rising up to meet him.


Wha' a day tha' were lad, bu' darker times are t'arrive. I remember wakin' up wi' a head tha felt like it 'ad been sat on by an ogre, an a breath that tasted like a murloc had crawled down t'me gut an dropped dead.


Oi laddy wake up, ya cannae stay 'ere. This is Infantry lands, an' ya not in tha Infantry. Movrak opened his eyes to see a Dark skinned, dark haired dwarf pointing the sharp end of an axe into his face.


Shiny... Movrak grunted as he held his head and sat up from the cold stone floor. The Infantry y'say lad? Must be me lucky day.


Ya wha? Lucky day? Nae lad ya boot ta be gutted an fed.... at that point the dark dwarf was interrupted by a much taller less hostile dwarf.


Durin tha be 'nuff now laddy. Ya gona scare the youngblood.


Aye chief. with that the dark dwarf known as Durin relaxed his axe and stood back to let the mighty dwarf speak.


Ya in grand comp'ny dwarf, I am Grimsteel, General of the Khaz Modan Infantry. And y'are?


Grudgebearer, General, Movrak Grudgebearer...I bin lookin fer ya. Movrak got to his feet and gave a half hearted salute. I wana become an Infantry recruit...


Grimsteel stroked his flame yellow beard as his beady eyes watched Movrak give a toothy grin, showing a front tooth that seemed to be made from a chunk of iron ore.


Would ya be willin' ta serve wi Duty and Protect tha' which matters? Grimsteel asked in a deep powerful tone.


Duty, Protecshun an Ale lad, tha's all I live fer e'er since them blasted troggs attacked Kharanos. Movrak clenched his armoured fist tightly.


Bleedin' troggs... Durin spat on the floor.


Aye, indeed Durin. Grimsteel replied with a wicked smile. Ya sound like me kinda dwarf, Grudgebearer, I now accept ya as a recruit o'tha Khaz Modan Infantry.


Aye shiny. Movrak saluted the two dwarves respectfully


Ya wuddnae 'appen t'av any brew ?

Drinkin' is what us Dwarves live fer but there comes a time when tha drinkin' stops and the fightin spirit take o'er.


Movrak closed one of his eyes as he tried to focus his sight down the barrel of his rifle onto the unsuspecting Tunnel Rat.


Shh ya git ya breathin ta heavy, remember ya trainin... Movrak cursed to himself as he tried to block out the slight haze from drink.


Seconds passed and Movrak pulled the trigger on his bronzed rifle. Before the half inebriated dwarf had time to think the Tunnel Rat felt the bite of the shot, blood spat from its shoulder.


Shiny, I 'it one... he smiled to himself as he dropped the rifle and readied his axe.


The Rat carried a frenzied expression as it bound and leapt towards Movrak.
Connecting quicker than the sobering Infantry Stoneguard had expected, he missed his chance to slide his axe through bone. The Tunnel Rat on the other hand leapt forcefully over the four foot seven inch dwarf dragging his sharpened claws over Movrak's unprotected right shoulder.


Ayiee ya bastard. Movrak dropped his shield as he put his armoured hand on the bloodied laceration.


Tha's me drinkin arm ya ugly, stinkin rat.
His face grew fierce as he clenched his axe with both hands and swung for the chattering rat, this time connecting properly. A piercing screech sounded throughout the Loch Modan woods causing flocks of ravens to fly out of the trees.


Movrak knelt upon the bloodsoaked grass clenching his left shoulder.


I coul' really use an ale righ' now... Movrak muttered to himself as he looked up towards the remains of what was once a Tunnel Rat.


Movrak stood looking around to see foreststriders and deer watching his every move.


Musta been tha' ear bleedin' squeal tha wussy let out. he chuckled as he hobbled over to the top half of the corpse.


One bloody rat, layin on'tha floor...' Movrak started to sing....one bloody rat layin on'tha floor, and if I chopped him up 'e woulda make a good meal, oh! one bloody rat, layin' on'tha floor.


He carried on singing as he yanked a gold ring from the corpse's ear.



Righ' tha's me job done. But fer now, I need a barrel o' stout...

The snow fell gently that day...


Movrak took his daily patrol along the cobbled footpaths of Dun Morogh to Ironforge where he will often stop for a few ales until heading back. But something was amiss this day.

Movrak stepped out from the North Gate and sniffed the chilled air.

Shiny. He muttered to his sober mind. Ano'er grand day fer a drink or six.

A voice down the path broke the quiet of the rising sun.

Mishter Movrak, Mishter Movrak Sir...Ack !

Movrak looked to see a friendly face running up the icey cobbled walkway.

Sprokett ! Wha a sp'rise, wha brings ya up't North Gate? Movrak gave a wide Iron Tooth smile as he watched his little Gnome friend leap into the air due to his horrendous twitch.

The bears, the bears the bears the bears...Movrak sir ya gots to help, I saw a Drunk walk into the wilds. Obviously off his mind on booze. And its bear season !

Sprokket scratched his balding head as he looked up slightly to the Khaz Modan Infantry Dwarf.

Wha's all tha commotion aboot laddy? A sleepy faced Grimsteel plodded out of the Gate. We can 'ear this lil Gnome in't bunks lad.

Nothin I cannae handle Chief. Movrak said as he took the bronze rifle from his shoulder and loaded it with gunpower and a small round shot. Jus' some drunk thinkin 'e can play Hero.

Aye well make sure ya do it quietly lad, some of us need our booty sleep. Oh and make sure its not one of our lads makin a fool of themsen.

Grimsteel saluted a tired salute then wobbled on his feet back through the gate and into the Pass.

By tha looks o'it Sprok me t'old pal, 'e needs all tha booty sleep 'e can git. Movrak chuckled at his own joke before realising what had to be done.

Righto lil Tinkercog, take me ta where ya saw this drunkard.

Movrak followed the hasty but twitchy Gnome as he leapt with an Ack! along the icey paths until they came to a clearing just to the right, near the Gol'Bolar Quarry.

He, he went in their....Is he mad ?...Ack!...Their is a bear den in there. Sprokett got a little edgey and nervous as he spoke.

Righ' lad stay 'ere, I will go an 'ave a look. Movrak took a deep breath and a loud gulp and readied his rifle. If ya see me runnin outa there, that means a bear or three may be comin afta me, leggit ta North Gate.

Hi ho, hi ho...to fin' a drunk we go, I need me gun to protect me rum, hi ho !

Sprokett giggled as he leapt into the air following another twitch...

Movrak stepped gently over the freshly fallen snow, only the sound of his breath and the clinking of his mail armour could be heard.

Movrak whispered softly into the cold air hullo ? mister alcoholic, ya do realise lad ya gone tha wrong way and that ain't ya missus ya think ya snuggled up ta... Movrak chuckled under his breath until he saw something disturbing.

Oh no...

Movrak lifted his hat up a bit to make sure he could see properly what lay before him. Blood soaked the snow turning it a pale red, chunks of fur lay matted alover the area and there he saw the remains of what was once a bear. Lying next to the bear was a shape Movrak did not recognise, he strolled forward vigilant of any other bears surrounding the clearing.

No...it cannae be.

Movrak dropped his rifle and ran over to the brown lump infront of him, as he got closer he saw a red liquid pouring out onto the snow. Blood. Movrak lifted the brown wide brimmed hat to see a face he did not expect.

Ya bloody foo, Ya drunken bastard wha ya thin ya doin out 'ere ? Movrqk got angry and started to kick the Dwarf who did not move a muscle. Brom ya bes be lis'nin ta me lad cos when ya...
That was when Movrak realised that the Dwarf known as Brom was not listening, he was dead.

Movrak looked over his fallen friend and noticed a badge upon his belt. A badge that he still carried even to his dying day. The badge was the insignia of an Ironbreaker and under the badge was an engraved name and Squad.

Brom Stonebeard
3rd Rifles Division
Tha poor foo, This was frum 'is days as a Scout. I remember 'im talkin bout it. Movrak took the badge and stood giving the Dwarf a formal salute before picking up his rifle and walking back to the path.

Well Morak ? Did you find the....Ack....Drunk ? Sprokett asked as he shuffled nervously.

Aye tha I did lad, it were Brom, tha drunk I told ya bout. He's dead. Movrak said as he lowered his hat to hide his eyes.


Sprokett did not say a word and for the first time ever did not twitch.