He waved goodbye to her, smiling his facade smile. "Catch ya later, Kat. Try not to get into too much trouble with locals while I'm gone, alright?" Narnicka stood from his chair at the Blue Recluse in Stormwind. With a smile and a wave from his friend, Narnick turned from her, leaving the tavern. He stepped out into that late evening, and looked out at the Stormwind sky, feeling a sense of closing. It felt like an important part of his life was going to end soon, but he shook his head. "Get ahold of yourself... You'll see her again." He said quietly to himself. He realized, as he watch the sky, that he'd be late if he didn't report in. His departure to Alterac Valley was soon. He untethered his horse, and climbed on, hastily making or the checkpoint at which the lastest wave of reinforcements would meet before being teleported into battle via an Alliance mage. As he arrived at the checkpoint, which was a barracks just outside Stormwind, he saw nobody he really knew. He sighed, seating himself on a giant glaive thrower vehicle right outside the barrack's front door.
"Oh, there'll be glory, alright! The Horde hasn't won yet, and we won't let them, will we men!?" A man in knight's colors asked a few men around him. Of course he got a resounding "No!" from the men, but this was not why Narnicka now made his way toward battle. He bowed his head, trying to rest a bit before the battle, but only remembered the brothers he once loved, but would now fight. He remembered his roots in Durotar, and the reason he now ventured to that God-forsaken place of blood and snow...
"Ha ha! Humans will never be strong as us orcs!" A young orc boy in Durotar taunted, waving a wooden sword in front of Narnicka. At the time, Narnicka had been just a youngling in Durotar, found and raised by an old orc shaman who believed all life to be sacred. "Give it back, Merrick!" Narnicka yelled, trying to pull his sword away from the orc, but Narnick had been quite the scrawny human as a lad. Merrick, the one keeping Narnicka's sword captive grinned down at the human. Narnicka began to think of giving up. He couldn't win. But, as always, Cyrus had come to his aid. A larger orc boy thundered into Merrick, knocking him flat on the ground, and picking up the dropped sword. "Get lost, Merrick. You're not the biggest one here anymore!" He yelled at Merrick, and looked at Narnicka, handing him the sword. "You ok, Narn?" He asked coolly. Narnicka nodded, taking the sword. "Thanks.... Cyrus." Cyrus helped Narnicka onto his feet with a smile. "Don't listen to them, Narn." Cyrus said as the other orc boy ran off. "Humans can be tough, too! Ever hear of Lo'Gosh?" He smiled, slapping Narnicka on the back, but Narnicka remained quiet. Cyrus smiled. "Cmon. Pop probably has more to teach us about water. Gormik and Remus are already there." Narnicka nodded, and both ran off to join their other two brothers under their father's teachings.
"You there, soldier." A voice broke Narnicka's rest and time remembering his family. A knight stood before him, and looked expectantly down at him. Narnicka stood up. "Yes sir?" He asked. The knight pointed over at the front door to the garrison, where a priest was standing before a few kneeling men. "Last rites and blessings goin on, if you wish to join." The knight walked off towards the garrison, but walked past the priest. Narnicka shook his head. He needed no last rites and blessings. He needed only his will. Only his loyalty. Those would see him through this. He had those he wished to protect.
"Oh, there'll be glory, alright! The Horde hasn't won yet, and we won't let them, will we men!?" A man in knight's colors asked a few men around him. Of course he got a resounding "No!" from the men, but this was not why Narnicka now made his way toward battle. He bowed his head, trying to rest a bit before the battle, but only remembered the brothers he once loved, but would now fight. He remembered his roots in Durotar, and the reason he now ventured to that God-forsaken place of blood and snow...
"Ha ha! Humans will never be strong as us orcs!" A young orc boy in Durotar taunted, waving a wooden sword in front of Narnicka. At the time, Narnicka had been just a youngling in Durotar, found and raised by an old orc shaman who believed all life to be sacred. "Give it back, Merrick!" Narnicka yelled, trying to pull his sword away from the orc, but Narnick had been quite the scrawny human as a lad. Merrick, the one keeping Narnicka's sword captive grinned down at the human. Narnicka began to think of giving up. He couldn't win. But, as always, Cyrus had come to his aid. A larger orc boy thundered into Merrick, knocking him flat on the ground, and picking up the dropped sword. "Get lost, Merrick. You're not the biggest one here anymore!" He yelled at Merrick, and looked at Narnicka, handing him the sword. "You ok, Narn?" He asked coolly. Narnicka nodded, taking the sword. "Thanks.... Cyrus." Cyrus helped Narnicka onto his feet with a smile. "Don't listen to them, Narn." Cyrus said as the other orc boy ran off. "Humans can be tough, too! Ever hear of Lo'Gosh?" He smiled, slapping Narnicka on the back, but Narnicka remained quiet. Cyrus smiled. "Cmon. Pop probably has more to teach us about water. Gormik and Remus are already there." Narnicka nodded, and both ran off to join their other two brothers under their father's teachings.
"You there, soldier." A voice broke Narnicka's rest and time remembering his family. A knight stood before him, and looked expectantly down at him. Narnicka stood up. "Yes sir?" He asked. The knight pointed over at the front door to the garrison, where a priest was standing before a few kneeling men. "Last rites and blessings goin on, if you wish to join." The knight walked off towards the garrison, but walked past the priest. Narnicka shook his head. He needed no last rites and blessings. He needed only his will. Only his loyalty. Those would see him through this. He had those he wished to protect.