[H-RP]The Frozen Paw Clan - A Light in the Darkness đŸ”„

Argent Dawn
148

Orgrimmar is quiet in the early morning.

Having caught the zep to the city, Ohru wanders the streets, watching as the night creeps towards day. And we head to war again. Pausing at the entrance to the Valley of Wisdom, Ohru adjusts the effigies on his back. Made of petrified wood and supported by straps of comfortable leather, their weight is a familiarity he needs. They had taken his grandfather years to carve.

He has vivid memories of the old bull, although he had only met him once. Blind, when Ohru had met him at the clansmeet so many years ago. Those hands, soft with age, had cupped his chin as those blind, white eyes had stared sightlessly at him. Into him, somehow, as though this ancient warrior could see all his thoughts and dreams and sins.

“You have eyes like your mother.” The old bull had said, voice like thin parchment. He had lost the use of his legs some years ago, and was propped in a litter, covered with thick blankets to ward against the mid winter cold. Ohru could still remember the smell of him. Like foxflower tobacco. “Ironhorn eyes. Don’t let those Bloodtotem make you forget who you are, child.”

“Yes, sir.” Ohru had said timidly.

The bull had died later that year. His father had, begrudgingly it seemed to Ohru, given him the effegies that by rights belonged to him.

“The old fool wanted you to have these.” Rorak Stonefist had grunted, towering in the door of Ohru’s tent, his black fur blacker when outlined by the night beyond the flap. “You had best learn how to carry them, or I’ll ignore the old man’s wishes and give them to your older brother.”

“Yes, Father.” Ohru had replied meekly, quieting the thrill of excitement and pride. Rorak could smell pride. He hated it, despite being proud himself. Made of petrified wood, which looked more akin to multi-coloured stone to Ohru, the two roaring bears had seen years of use.

Ohru had learnt how to carry them. With honour. With pride.

And yet you still forgot who you are. He thinks as he walks quietly through the Valley of Wisdom. You forgot who you are.

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As a completely unrelated poster, I just want to mention how I love to read the story posts you guys write up - Ohru and others, you’re doing an awesome job. :1st_place_medal:

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Thank you! It’s a pleasure to write! :smiley:

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Ohru lays quietly in his tent in the morning, having spent the night resting. Laid out on his back, staring at the canvas above, he reflects quietly on the campaign so far. The fights, the wounds, the healing. His body aches.

An image of Erithur, baring down on that bard, flares into his mind suddenly. He winces, clenching his jaw. He had seen her yesterday, on the field of battle. She owed him a life debt, as it had been he who had yanked Erithur out of his bloodlust.

The boy shouldn’t be surprised. He thinks to himself. Even the best of us have bloodlust. His thoughts turn bitter at the thought of the human he had saved from Erithur. She had still shot arrows at him. These Alliance know no honour.

He gets to his hooves. Dressed only in his hide trousers, he ducks out of his tent and heads to the lake to bathe. The fifth warbraid, representing the war in Feralas, hangs down his back - shorter than his forth, which dangles down the left side of his face. In the fifth warbraid, he had woven an Alliance lion, and several beads. One for every kill.

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At long last, I’ve regained trust level 3 and could thus update this thread. Thanks to everyone keeping it populated in the meantime! :smiley:

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Ohru stares down at his hands as the night draws close.

His escape from the boat had been harrowing. His armour, his staff Han-gyeol, and his stone effigies had all been placed in a sack beside him on the deck when he had been lined up with the rest of the conscripts, prisoners and others. The captain had undone his manacles to rechain his hands in front of him, grunting about how he was more useful with useable hands.

No one had told the captain that he was a monk.

He had moved before he could really think. Crashing his head into the captain’s face and smashing bone with his antlers, the other prisoners had stared at him in shock, before joining the fray. Pandemonium erupted, guards screaming and drawing their weapons as Ohru had shouldered his effigies with difficulty and grabbed his sack of gear. He charged, antlers down, using his massive shoulders to bull his way through as the rest of the prisoners exploded into violence. His hooves slipped on blood as he ran flat out to the docks, leaping across the gangplank and charging through another guard.

An arrow had pierced his side, but he paid it no mind as he bellowed for Beast, his hippogryph. She had soared to him at once, screaming. Somehow - and he could not say now how - he managed to mount the beast, watching as her claws flashed and her beak drew blood.

Then he was in the air.

Thinking back on it now, he could not say how he had managed it. Luck. Sheer dumb luck and stupidity, no doubt. He was safe, now. Safer, anyway. Guilt rushes through him. Florian. How could I have left him.

He hadn’t had a choice.

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I can’t wait to meet you lot in game, I love reading along to your stories and hope to forge some of our own!

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Bearan turns the head of the fallen captain, inspecting the damage. It had been a sorrowful night; the news of the Horde prison-ship’s slaughter had hit hard. As a battalion of grunts investigated the bloodbath surrounding him, Bearan’s eye narrowed.

The captain had been new to his position of command. A fine warrior, certainly; but a young man nonetheless. Now, a broken corpse, face mangled, mutilated in an act of murder, the Orc was barely recognizable.

Bearan got back to his hooves, and sifted his gaze through the parchment held within his hand. The report went into the finer details; about how a prisoner had gone savage, and had incited a prison riot. Most of the ship’s hands had been butchered during the ensuing chaos. Prisoners - many of whom had been murderers, cultists and others of a wicked stock - had made their escape into the sea.

Approaching the window, Bearan stared out into Bladefist Bay, where the ship - damaged and splintered - had made an emergency docking. ‘We fight for the Horde’, they had claimed. ‘We serve the Warchief’.

This is not servitude.

This is treason.

And such injustice will not go unpunished.

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Fenchuo partook in delivering sorrowful news to the grunts respected families.
Ensuring them, their sons and daughters died in service of the Horde.

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By god
 they must be stopped!

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Ah shi** here we go again.

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was this from the event from a few days ago? i was greeted by angry bois in /1 railing on pcu over something, so whats the ic story?

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The Baron swears revenge, many of the escaped prisoners were designated Grim Gest recruits.

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Ohru is in Silithus.

The dusty sands wash over him as he tends to his hippogryph, Beast. He brushes out her feathers, weaving beads into the fantastic mane of green and orange. She nibbles his hand.

A raven lands on his shoulder.

“Hrm?” He looks up at it, and the scroll it carries. It quorks at him, and he takes the scroll, raising an eyebrow before unsealing it. A familiar hand pens words, and he draws his reading glasses out of their belt pouch to read.

You’re in trouble, buddy. That ship you escaped from was a slaughter. They’re blaming you, and your clan. I dunno what happened, but stay clear of Orgrimmar. Me and Fenris’re staying low. We’ll keep in touch.

- M

Ohru blinks. He reads the short letter again. And again. Eyebrows furrowed, he gives his head a little shake. A slaughter? A slaughter.

He rubs his chin. How an entire crew of armed, trained Horde soldiers had lost against no more than ten unarmed chained prisoners was beyond him. The captain he had headbutted had had naught than a broken nose and a shock the last he had known. Indeed, he had counted on it.

An entire crew of armed, trained Horde soldiers. Killed by rabble. Perhaps


His eyes narrow. He wouldn’t put it past them to frame them. After his escape, perhaps they had slaughtered the crew, to hide their failure and set the Horde against them.

‘Take no life needlessly.’ His master had said to him. He had kept to that, no matter how much he had wanted to slaughter and shout and-

He takes a seat beside his fire, feeling Beast coil up behind him, the scroll in hand.

They would stoop low enough to frame the Paw for such a slaughter. To keep themselves in power. He found it hard to believe the starved rabble he’d been chained to could do more damage than some bruises and cuts.

With a sigh, he draws some incense out of his belt pouch. He sets it next to the fire, lighting it, offering a prayer for those lost. May the Wild Gods grant them strength and courage. May the ancestors guide them well.

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I do like this story-line where, confronted with the slaughter he caused, Ohru is now going insane, plagued by paranoid delusions.

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nah, he just knows that fully trained armed horde soldiers would literally flatten chained prisoners :wink: you can’t have the horde be strong as hell and also weak enough to be slaughtered by like, chained prisoners. choose one :smiley:

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Keep it IC please

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Interesting that Ohru was then, not flattened, isn’t it?

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More of an aftermath of it.

i was greeted by angry bois in /1 railing on pcu over something, so whats the ic story?

Tl;dr: the clan returned to Orgrimmar from the recent Feralas campaign, and were rounded up for their presence in Thunder Bluff some weeks prior. Rounding up turned to being lined up outside the barracks and questioned, being questioned turned to execution, execution turned to an all-out fight, wherein some escaped, one died and some got captured.

The posts above are an aftermath of someone being captured and escaping.

Nah, we won’t. Members are a bit too tired of these scenarios (including some that straight up aren’t interested in playing anymore because of them) that nobody seems interested in pursuing it any further.

We’ll go back to hovering around Thunder Bluff instead until there’s some greater narrative changes for the expansion, see if a workable hub can’t be crafted out of it!

Chances are we will not be pursuing, engaging or acknowledging any interactions with the groups in question going forward.

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the glory of surprise attacks and having a hippogryph he bought in Feralas during the campaign there recently :smiley: