Rise of the Ripclaw

Set a few weeks after the shattering, Kaigron is sent to Desolation Hold to sort the ever growing Si:7 problem in the Barrens

Scorpions Gambit

Mid-Morning, Southern Barrens.
Warlord Bloodhilt paced the stone floor, even within the walls of Desoltaion Hold armoury the air was an arid dry heat.

"I'm convinced the Alliance be using spies to scout the field n' pass along information. They knew to strike at Taurajo while the hunters were afield.
Countering every one of Gar'dul's moves like he was an open book." Bloodhilt spoke with a guttural snarl.

He stopped pacing, leant over a stone table, rested two huge fists on the top. The table was covered with a map of Southern Barrens. It had the main Horde bases scribed
in red ink along with corresponding Alliance base camps in blue ink. Large arrows showed the advancing armies of both sides. Looking up from the map he met the eyes
of the Shattered Hand Operative.

"Well Ripclaw, I for one will not be outplayed. Not here!" He smashed both fists down onto the stone table, sending the map flailing to the floor

"We will win the battle for intelligence, they will no longer counter our moves. They say you be good at what you do, that be why they sent you to me, even now I be hearing
reports of Alliance operatives slinking around in the shadows, especially here, outside these very walls. These..Operatives, they be the ones that be gathering our battle plan's.
Go now, find them..rip the flesh from there backs, render them incapable of walking."

Bloodhilt turned to look out of the window, crossed his arms and spoke intensely.

"Make them crawl back to the Alliance..let them deliver yet another message...Their time of dominance is over"

With a nod the Shattered Hand Operative was gone.

High Noon, Southern Barrens
The haze of heat enveloped the dry, dusty ground. It was a heat that no man should be able to withstand, but with all Si:7 Field Operatives it was expected of them to
withstand any environment they worked in. Scott 'Visceril' McCall had been a highly decorated operative, but was stripped of his rank when a sexual harassment charge from
numerous gnomes both male and female came about, Once the court deemed him guilty Mathias Shaw demoted 'Visceril' McCall and placed him to work alone. Often he was
first to put himself up for the "...dangerous bastard jobs." This one however, was far from dangerous, all he had to do was follow the Horde couriers, render them
unconscious and recount their battle plans to General Hawthorne. A simple job that McCall thought that would net him a promotion. He craved to get back into 1st Dagger
SCYTHE Regiment and would do anything to get there.

As usual 'Visceril' McCall kneeled within a heavily leafed shrub near a diminished watering hole, The heat bearing down on him, ravaging his back like a thousand dagger cuts.
Knowing that the Horde courier would be along the dirt road soon, he listened for the heavy footsteps of a running Orc. It had not been long until a Orc came into view.
The heat haze making it look like he had no lower body, 'Visceril' McCall readied himself, holding the garrote firmly through both hands.

The Orc ahead of the Si:7 Field Operative slowed to a walk, 'Visceril' McCall smirked as he thought {...this'll be an easy one, the sun has baked the Orc}

"AaGgHh" yelped the Si:7 Field Operative, quickly standing from his kneeled position and turning to see what just stung him. He saw a small durotar scorpion scurry away,
cursing under his hood he turned to return to his hidden position, not concerned if the Orc saw him due to the position of the sun blinding anyone travelling northwards.
"..wha..where did he.." spoke the perplexed Si:7 Field Operative.

A rock landed on the ground behind him, immediately he lept up ready to garrote

From behind the Si:7 Field Operative came a low guttural voice

"Say hello to my little friend..."
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Based around Gor'grull Ripclaw leading his brothers and his youngest son Kaigron Ripclaw into an Orc interment camp

Ripclaws of Warsong
Based days after Grom Hellscream had reunited the Warsong Clan with Ogrim Doomhammer and Thrall's Frostwolves. Ripclaws of Warsong were sent
to investigate a small internment camp just south of the larger Durnholde keephis,

Dip…

Dip…

Dip…

Rain beats down on the low slung tree's, leaves drip with water into a slightly flooded shallow ground. The full moon casts light from the sky but the gargantuan wall
of Thoradin casted a even bigger shadow. Below the wall a number of wooden structures had been erected, built right from the wall itself. A darkened alley made
from timber has water gathered upon it's floor. The water flows forward, but eventually the land gets too high, and becomes dry. Suddenly, the water splashes,
as footsteps sprint across the soddened alley. Footsteps are clearly heard and seen, yet the one who is making can't be seen, more footsteps follow the first.
Suddenly the steps stop, rain still beating down upon the roughly made timber roof. 5 Orcs appear, barely visible in the shadows. They all wear dark
leathered armour with numerous trophied bones, small blades and pouches of fluids attached, the 3 middle Orcs have a single large blackened sword at his
left side and a smaller blackened dagger sheathed on the right. The lead Orc has a single dagger with a red ribbon hanging from the handle, the last Orc
who was quite clearly the youngest had arrived shortly afterward handled dual daggers, both blades dripping with poison. All 5 wore similar tattooed markings
indicating their family lineage, tribal in pattern, blood red in colour.

“Vir'grol, check the rest of the alleyway” The lead Orc spoke with an commanding, guttural voice.

With a nod Vir'gol disappears from sight, footsteps are seen moving through the flooded alley.

“Clear…” he whispers.

“Ok..all go” the alpha Orc commanded, as the remaining Orcs stayed in the shadows, the younger Orc nodded then knelt, still holding the hilt of his daggers
he looked behind then quickly ahead as his kin continued through the alley. The Alley soon rose, and it was no longer flooded, the sound of human voices were
heard. The Ripclaws moved through the maze like alleyways with a grace and swiftness of a leaf dancing on a breeze, staying low as too avoid disturbing the
hanging banners which could reveal their location.

“The target is straight ahead…” A guttural voice whispers, The orcs take cover behind a pile of timber, rain still finds it's way into this maze of wood,
and with it the gathering drips and beads of water would wash away the blood.

Gor'gull Ripclaw, the alpha Orc smiled.
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Oookay I didn't know you were Visceril until now - I'm slow!

'Scott 'Visceril' McCall... was stripped of his rank when a sexual harassment charge from numerous gnomes both male and female came about.' Rofl. What on earth possessed you to make that the reason for his demotion?

Enjoying the read so far!

Thanks appreciated

Wanted a comic relief in there somewhere!

I did laugh at that, so I reckon it worked!

Operation: Venture Repo
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That is brilliant!