A New Perspective: Chapter 2

[Asdflawl 9]

With the server down, I decided to use my free time to write! A second part of a 'new series' I suppose to explore my characters backstory. I hope whomever reads this and is interested enjoys, and always open to ideas, critques, and otherwise. Just for sake of keeping stuff clean, I decided to call them parts, and chapters, because it looks better and feels cooler.

Enjoy!

 

Link to Chapter 1

Chapter 2: A lack of foresight

Time: Right after the Catacylsm.

The campfire was warm, even if the air around them was all the more dry from what she was use too. The Barrens was like that, no matter which portion you were in since Deathwing had split it recently. The heavily Horde controlled north or the war-torn southern region, the air was always… arid. It wasn’t bad, really, Lilyana didn’t mind it, but she much preferred the more temperate lands that Azeroth had to offer. She couldn’t be mad with the sight above, however… the spectacle of stars that dotted across the sky, with the silence of but the insects that resided in the tall grass.

The sound of a near animal-like snort made her gaze flick forward, blinking as she took in the sight that seemed to surround the campfire. A handful of seemingly loyal Horde members, all with their own agenda, glaring down at the small woman that resided on her own rock in front of the fire. Many of them battle scared, most of them well armed, and all of them had their attention drawn to the carefree woman that was resting with them with a near predatory gaze.

At least she was in good company…?

A troll squatted near the flames, stick poking at the kindling as he said something in Orcish. The rest of the group smirked and chuckled loudly. An Orc responded back with earnest, his stare flattening right on Lilyana as he ended his brutish phrase with a lick of his lips. Lilyana frowned, and her brow furrowed as she held the rifle against her middle. It was getting tense, and she didn’t feel safe one bit. Perhaps having another ‘pink-skin’ with her would’ve honestly made it a little more fair.

The Orc that was looking at Lilyana so keenly rose, a man clad in mail with a mighty longbow around his back. He stepped over to Lilyana and sat himself down on what inch of the rock was left. The human didn’t budge, even if the man stood a good foot and a half above her.

“You know, it’s very dangerous to come around here, little one.” The man spoke in that well-known common, causing her mouth to lightly dry.

“I can handle myself, Orc.” She responded back, staring up at the looming form.

“I’m sure you can… not just any pink-skin can make their way out here without knowing some form of survival.” He lifted a massive, paw-like hand to curl around her shoulders… she tightened her grip on her rifle in a welling uncertainty.

“However, there are-… rules out here, in this camp, and you are new. I will give you but some advice.”

“That’s appreciated…” Lilyana responded, the man’s hand moving up to lightly curl through her short-cut hair. Those fat fingers staining her own, dirty locks with whatever grease he had on his form.

“Good. I’ll be wanting more appreciation tonight…” His voice lowered, and Lilyana narrowed her gaze as she slowly began to sneak her hand away from her rifle… and down towards her knife that was concealed in her boot. She was now going to have to make an example for the rest of the camp… or die trying to do just that.

“Gun’grak.” A voice called out, guttural and worn. He froze his hand that almost curled around Lilyana’s head as a whole… and Lily seemed to lock up as well. The camp’s attention, which was almost all on the sight of this human and Orc, turned back to the fire or the voice.

“If you want something to lay, perhaps use your pig… it has more interest in you than the human.”

The camp boasted, everyone laughing loudly. A mighty Tauren lightly slapping his trunk-like leg as the Troll with the wooden stick in the burning kindle nearly threw himself back as he cackled.

The Orc slowly drew his hand away from the shorter human, Lilyana trying her best NOT to laugh bluntly at the man’s words as he sneered down at the woman… not before removing himself, rising, and spitting down at the human’s feet, hefting his long bow, and retreating to his massive boar that rested against a tree to wither away in embarrassment.

Lilyana drew her stare over to the voice, a man that rested against a downed, rotting log. His gaze was covered by a blood-soaked wrapping, and his chest wrapped in torn bandages and a long, thick kilt covering his lower-half. However, the most wonderful sight that he had… was a fantastically pristine sword, that he kept rested on his lap the entire time.

The human's brow furrowed once more, and stared into the flames as the rest of the camp went quiet after their obviously long, needed laughter.

Time went on, and various of these intense people that were resting at this fire seemed to retire to their own tents, bags, or mounts that they used as leverage to rest. Lilyana, however, wasn’t about to rest… her stare flicking over to the man from time to time as she lightly battered her fingers against her legs. After a long enough time of waiting, the human rose her, strapped her rifle, and moved herself over to approach the resting Orc.

Arguably, she had no idea if the man was sleeping or awake. Thankfully, he seemed to answer that much for the human as he took a heavy breath from his nose, and curled his lips in light confusion.

“Your kind has a very distinct stench, you know.” He commented, and the human lightly gasped in shock, before clearing her throat, and glancing to the side as she held her rifles leather strap.

“Aye, I know that much. Can say the same about yours.” She commented, and he couldn’t help but smile.

“Yes, but we stink more of wolves and sweat. You humans stink of-…”

“Over-zealous pride and desperation?” She interrupted, and watched as the blind man shook his head.

“I was going to say of lumber, but yes, that too.” He responded, Lilyana snickering back as she stood there quietly for a long moment, staring back at the near-empty campfire, before looking back over at the man.

“I-… just wanted to come over and say… thank you, for your assistance.” She said, and he couldn’t help but hold a hand up. It had various scars along his wrist and palm… she could make them out even in the light of the flicking flames.

“Say no more. I frequent this fire quite a bit. Gun’grak wants to stick himself in anything that isn’t Orc.” He said, then quickly adding afterwards. “However, he raises a fair point, human. The Barrens isn’t a wise place to keep yourself… the dragon has done a number, and the Alliance is almost always kill on sight with their new keep they’ve built.”

“I know.” The woman said. “It’s why I am here.” Lilyana admitted, moving to go and rest herself lightly against that rotting log as she stared over into the flames.

“An Alliance deserter, hm?”

“No. I took my leave returning from Northrend.” She quickly added. She watched his dry lips curl downward.

“I see.” He said, lightly drawing his hand down to the hilt of his blade.

“I’ve come to Kalimdor to-… search.”

“For what? Fame? A new desire to strike fear in the Horde?” He said that last one with a tad more seriousness than the first.

“I don’t know. Something to do with myself, I suppose.” She added, her throat tightening in confusion as she gulped.

“So you come to the land where you will be cut down on sight?” He said, growing desperate to find a reason.

“Arguably, I only just got here but a few days ago… I just learned of the battles crossing Ashenvale and Stonetalon and now the Southern Barrens. I just-… I’ve come to find reason. With myself. I’m done being fodder for the Alliance. I’m done watching young drafted men and women fight for their city, only to be forgotten by the cost of war. I’m done with killing Horde in cold blood because I wear the crest of Stormwind, only to get a medal and a cheer for my duty in the Alliance. I know of the past, and the aggression and hate, but I live in the present, not the past.” She said, her nose twitching with a light sneer.

The man hummed, drawing a hand over to his single, long white braid to lightly stroke at it, curiously. Lilyana stared down at him with a frown.

“I’m searching for purpose.” She finalized, staring up at the stars once again.

“Odd.” The man spoke up. “I was once like you. A loyal Master of Arms for the Horde, after the Third War.” He lightly gripped at the handle. “I agreed my time in battle was done, but the Alliance and Horde conflict grew, and my pride was harsh. I killed in the name of my Warchief without thinking of reason why. I’m sure your own means to joining the Alliance army was purely in defense against the Lich King. To protect your family, and home.”

“For the most part, yeah.” She nodded, still keeping her stare up at the sky.

“Honorable. It is what I fought for, until I realized my family was safe, and there were much more important things to fight besides the Alliance dogs, that case coming up plenty of times to show that it’s more than true.”

Lilyana nodded slowly, before staring forward again, letting the silence hold dominion. Perhaps this was a mistake… coming during some of the most conflict that had erupted due to the new Warchief's desires and the ‘clearly responding in full’ Alliance.

“If you are to survive here during these times, human, you can’t be alone. You will be caught by the wilds or some Horde warrior thinking you’re Alliance scum, even if you say how you aren’t searching for conflict.” The man finally said said, nodding his head aimlessly.

“Well, why can YOU do it alone, then?” She questioned, a tad rebellious, as was the humans attitude. She watched him slowly turn his head over to her… his expression still and blank, until it dawned on Lilyana.

“… Right, you’re an Orc in Orc controlled land.”

“There you go.”

The woman let go of another, held sigh before nodding. “You’re right… perhaps it’s best if I return to Ratchet and the Bay. I’m sure I can find something to do with myself there.” She said, pushing herself off of the log, already moving to take her leave. “I thank you for the advice, Orc.”

“Margrath.” He said. “And you will not be returning to port.”

She blinked, her eyes narrowing as she began to slowly slip the rifle from her shoulder out of that well known uncertainty.

“I will help you.” He said, and the human paused, removing her hand as she turned.

“Help… me?” She said, raising a dark brow.

“Yes, and not in the way like Gun’grak seemed to so elegantly mention.” The old warrior took the mighty blade, and jabbed it into the dirt… using it as means to rise. He was large, even if he was slouched from his age. His scars across his form very obvious now… plenty of wounds that each had their story. He lifted his blade up, and rested it against his shoulder.

“Until fate parts us, that is. I know the lands well, even if my vision is lost… each area has it’s own stench, and it’ll be good to have a pair of eyes to watch me from tripping.”

Lilyana slowly began to smile, staring up at the man as she spoke. “You don’t have to do this for a pink-skin, Margrath.” She slyly commented, lightly moving out of the way of the man as he began to move with calculated steps towards the fire.

“Everyone looks the same to me, human.” He said, pausing mid-step to look down at Lilyana with his bandaged gaze. “Why would I treat you differently, just because you smell like timber?”

Edited August 23, 2017 by Asdflawl

[fatchicken 22]

A pleasant read! From this and chapter 1, I quite like the scenes/characters you come up with. Keep it up