Ambassadors - A novel based on Warcraft

Chapter 15 - Legion Loyalists

"Burning Blade, end these intruders!", Soratog yelled to his clansmen, with seething bloodlust coursing through his veins.

"You cursed mongrels, you will never defeat us!", a huge tauren responded, just as he smashed an orc's head against a stone, just with his bare hands.

Soratog smiled. He liked to take down bigger prey, to overpower creatures who seemed unconquerable. Even though he served Sargeras, he had rejoiced in hunting down the mightiest Demons. He didn't do it out of spite or treason; he did it because he thought many forces of the Burning Legion were inferior than him, like beasts and animals. To kill them, to meet them face to face and annihilate them, was nothing more than sport. And this new foe would prove to be quite entertaining.

He thought of Azeroth as an huge hunting ground, and he had never stopped hunting since he arrived on the world. Soratog had endured all of his clan's crisis, and he had managed to bring it back to life after many, many years of hard work. He had even survived a mighty blow of the famous Doomhammer, delivered by no other than Thrall himself. If he had lived through that, how could a simple tauren expect to bring him down?

"I will flay you, and then I'll cook you for supper", Soratog taunted. "He is mine!", he added with a powerful battlecry, warning his men to leave the beast alone.

This group of enemies had come out of nowhere, traveling in a mighty warband through the mountains. They weren't members of the Horde, nor the Alliance, as they were lead by the tauren, a Vrykul and, to his surprise, a Mogu. Their banners and tabards showed that they were members of the so-called Titanguard. Just as So'Eent had advised, Soratog and his allies hadn't moved against those azerothian fanatics, but now they were on Loyalist lands, and they had to pay for their intrusion. The orc was quite intrigued by them, but years of war experience had taught him that in order to interrogate an enemy, the leaders had to be killed first. Common soldiers broke down more easily, and the commanders were usually too proud or too loyal to their cause in order to speak.

His Blademasters had surrounded the enemy warband, and one by one the intruders were being slaughtered. They were fierce combatants, though, and Soratog had lost good men too. It was time to end the fight. He rushed towards the tauren, holding his ignited blade in the air, and then leaped over his opponent. His prey was faster than what it seemed at first sight, but not fast enough to avoid the orc's attacks. With a clean slice, one of the horns was cut in half.

The tauren counterattacked quickly, punching Soratog in the stomach with an unusual strength. He cursed inside, reproaching himself for not having seen the blow coming. And what was even worse, it felt as if all his ribs had been destroyed. When he landed, he could see that the fist and forearm of the tauren were completely encased in stone. Those stones weren't there a second before.

"Do you like what you see, orc?", the beast asked, showing the stony limb; Soratog realized that the arm wasn't covered by rocks at all, but the skin had turned to solid granite.

The Burning Blade Warlord stood up with some difficulty, as he heard how the Mogu crushed another of his clansmen with ease. He described two broad arcs with his flaming sword to gain some space between him and the tauren. He had underestimated his prey, but he wouldn't make the same mistake again. Soratog kindled the demon blood within his body, and he could feel how his speed and his strength increased tenfold. He began moving with an impressive celerity, and soon there was not one image of the orc, but three blurry mirrors of his own self.

The three Blademasters flanked the tauren Warrior in no time, who had no other choice but to block and parry each aggression. Soratog smiled, if the combat kept up like this, he would soon find a weakness he could exploit.