Movrak shook his head as his father once more asked him to stay longer.
Now c'mon lad, grab yerself another beer an' tell me 'bout yer adventures. Been so long since I've seen ya!
His father jumped out of his lazy chair.
I'll give you another two rounds!'
Movrak couldn't resist this offer so he sat back down in his chair at the cozy fire.
Alright da', I'll tell ya where I've been. But don't expect it ter be nice.
He drank up some of his first beer and then faced his father.
I recently engaged the Horde in battle, in the Barrens an-
Movrak was brutally interrupted when his father looked at him with the most crazed look.
What were you fools doin' in the Barrens!? his father asked confused.
We answered the grand call of the Alliance. Manier military forces joined up in the fray. We walked along those tree huggin' elves to some kind of Fort called Northwatch Hold, and.... Movrak began to explain all the steps in the campaign, describing every little bit, up to the final battle at the Stonetalon quarry.
That is a mighty adventure, lad ! his father said, raising his mug.
Movrak smiled wickedly and smashed his mug against his father's. After drinking their mugs empty, his father wanted more details of the fighting.
So how was the fightin', lad? Did ye roll some orcish heads?
Movrak did not answer. His gaze was on the fire, as he was lost in his thoughts.
Lad, are ye alright? his father asked.
But Movrak didn't notice it. He was too lost in thought...
Fire burning the grass. The ongoing screams and shouts of dying men and women. The smell of decay. Countless fallen bodies on the floor. People rushing at each other. Arrows of Night Elven descent filling the air. Clashing steel. Warhorns thundering. Movrak turns around and sees the warlord standing before a kneeling man. The sword is drawn. A brute smile forms under the yellow, deep eyes of the troll. The sword is swung, the head rolls. "NOOOOOO!!!!" Movrak yells, charging the bastard, only to be smashed aside by a wolf-like orc. Last views. Burning embers. Smell of decay and grass. Blood being spilled...
Movrak pants heavily.
The first battle was a slaughter. Men and women dying. Countless Horde pouring onto the square...
He sunk away again into deep thought...
Marching through Honor's Stand. The friendly chat going around the dwarves. Sudden stop at the far-side of the Stand. The line of filthy beast standing between them and Stonetalon. The brute shouts and cries of war. The announced charge. The dealdy duel between the general and that elf. Cheering at general Steelgrim an'booing at the defeated elf. Walking back to the camp. The taste of beer. Well-coocked meat. The sudden ambush at the southern tower. Movrak charges at the line again, pushing back several "beasts". Then, again, that foul face. Recognisable anywhere. The same smile. Movrak growled, throwing his stormhammer at a huge tauren standing in his way. The loud bang. Electric sparks flying up in the air. Movrak looks around and smashes his shield at some troll...
The second battle was not more honorable than the first. They were defeated, then they ambushed us. After their short, cowardly fight, they retreated back! Cowards !
Tears form in his eyes. His fist is tightened up, like ready to punch someone...
The reinforcements arrived. Human laughter. The endless sounds of feet walking around. The taste of dust on your tongue. Dead trees. Burnt grass. Rotting Horde. Raven picking them. A gruesome smile. Abandoned shields. Broken armour. The second ambush. Rallying cries. Taurens smashing up the ground. Roaring charge. Loosing conciousness. A dwarf standing over me...
We moved out after that third battle. The general wanted ter inspect Stonetalon. We went up to the blasted quarry...
Orders being shouted, lines formed. The thunderous Elekk charge. Dying screams of the orcs, spears flying through the air. Axes hurled. Swords clashed. Elementals unleashsed. Movrak swung his hammer at an elf, breaking his chest. It fell down, left to be finished by him. A quick word and it was dead. He pulled his hammer out of 'it' and searched the quarry for another target. Healing streans flowing. Bolts flying through the air. Gunpowder scent. People being shot down. The horn sounded. The Horde pulled back. Not long after that eye appeared. "You have lost the quarry. Leave while you can or suffer the consequences...
Movrak seemed emotionly broken.
I do nae want ter talk 'bout it again...
He drank the last bit of his second mug empty, hugged his father and then left the building, saying the last words:
War isn't an adventure, it is an endless slaughter. Nothing glorious 'bout it !