A Burning Blade - The Beginning

"Be careful in dealing with a man who cares nothing for sensual pleasures, nothing for comfort or praise or promotion, but is simply determined to do what he believes to be right. He is a dangerous and uncomfortable enemy because his body, which you can always conquer, gives so little purchase over his soul." - Mahatma Gandhi

His eyes opened and re-adjusted to the gloom of the small hall. Only a dying pit fire kept the centre remotely illuminated. sparks of embers still sprung forth now and again from the depths of that fiery hole, landing harmlessly By the fire side.

Though the Wind howled at the doors, the roof and the rafters. Though the climb was steep, and near vertical. Though the snow was falling and ice clung to every surface, They had all come to this safe hold high in the Alterac mountains.

Krogon eyed them now, each in turn, no more than shadows in the gloom that circled the dim glow of the pit. Time had changed each of them, Faces had grown older, New scars had sprouted over old. New weapons had replaced old, even a rare few new faces had replaces those of the glorious fallen. What united them was a single, solemn, sacred oath.

Many still sat with closed eyes, deep in thought. others stared at the fire considering what they had heard, reports of abominations, story's of an ideal betrayed. One however had the expression of an Orc with the very fibres of his conscience being torn in half.

Grim Stonepaw was the last to arrive at the hall, snow coated and distracted throughout. He had neither questioned, nor spoken when news or information had been reported, his expression growing progressively more brooding.

Others had growled, snarled, Questioned with fury at the impossibility or Stormed out only to return again to hear the rest. Whatever the response, the Blademasters Sat now in silence. Considering. Krogon looked to his left and the shock stricken face of his student and companion. Tazok Drakebane had only been sworn into the order but hours previous, but he was as good and trusted friend as could be, even if they could not socialise beyond their duty and these walls thanks to some.

Turning his head left and right, he tried to gauge the mood. Half the hall sat crouched stroking their beards or chins, considering, thinking, weighing up. the other half murmured or looked uncomfortable. While Grim, looked as if he wanted to tear his own thoughts apart judging by the glares he gave the ground.

Akinos Steelclaw had been the one to call the gathering, and the one to raise the first issue, the Freedom of the warlocks from Orgrimmar's cleft of shadow. A Heinous, foolish and rash act by the Warchief. After an eight year vigil of keeping them in check, they were simply let off the leash to climb the ladders of hierarchy and power unchecked and unstopped. Who could know when they would bring some menace upon the Orc's and the horde, or worse yet the whole of Azeroth as they had done before.

Then Akinos read aloud leaked Kor'kron reports, Detailing how one of their policing units had inadvertently meddled in and ended a secret project inside Ragefire chasm. A project lead by nefarious Dark shaman, working toward creating vile abominations of flesh, bone and sinew through dark magic's, and on Orc's no less! The Kor'kron ruining one of their own projects, madness no less, but it painted a dark picture of intent.

Next, letters written by Mazuru and Brolic, two of the three Blademasters who sailed to Pandaria were read for all to hear by Ronakada. Each syllable Highlighted the Brutal and dishonourable tactics wrought not only upon the Alliance, But the Neutral Natives of the continent also. However, this was but the tip of the proverbial spear that impaled the honour of the Horde. Their Messages also detailed how the Warchief himself, using all the resources at his disposal, had hunted down and acquired an artefact of unimaginable evil. A Bell of some shadowy nature, that upon use by Hellscream himself, Warped and turned his warriors into Beasts of pure negative emotion, warped beasts of hatred. To Add injury to insult, He tested it finally on the Third of their party, Blademaster Ishi. With all these lives Squandered, and ignoring the Corrupted resulted, The Warchief Then vowed to not rest until he found his weapon to create a perfect race of warriors...

It all mounted up. The Alienation of the Sindorei, The belittlement of the Goblins, Shunning the forsaken, ignoring the Tauren and practically imprisoning the Darkspear tribe on their own islands. And the less said about the forsaken, the better.

The Horde had Ceased to be a Family, Ceased to be a union for the benefit of all. It had become an army of servitude to one Orc, foolishly discarding all semblance of trust, tradition and honour all in the misguides aim of making the Orc's a warrior master race. The Orc's were being thrust down the same corrupted road they had been led once before, and it was becoming clear that a line in the sand had to be drawn before disaster and catastrophe struck again.

But what had been a Heated debate, had become still silence. No Orc, no Blademaster seemed to want to be the one to say it, only the crackle of the dying fire and the creaking of the roof timbers gave any sound to the hall.

"We act, Then?" Krogon felt himself force out, a cool tone.

He held his breath, uttering such words was treason... The response, was a relief. Every Orc nodded slowly, perhaps with hesitation, but they all seemed to agree.
Akinos took this chance to speak, baying the whispers and muttering to silence with a gesture of his hands. Standing, The long grey beard and lengthy braid rustled around his lean muscled form.

"We cannot simply Wade into this foe as we would a Warlock conclave or a demon army..." His voice was coarse, weathered, but true.

"...This fight must be a war to restore honour, a battle to win hearts and minds, a conflict for balance" He nodded to himself, the gathered.

"We are sworn to protect the horde from all corruption, we cannot, and must not, do that by ripping it apart" He paused, watching the bobbing of heads and stroking of aged beards. Krogon knew it was true, he wanted nothing more than to wade into the Kor'kron and show them the truth of the blade, but it wouldn't work, they would only demonise themselves in the eyes of the greater horde.

"...We will work from the shadows, and build our strength, and wait. Patience is our greatest Allie, when the critical moment comes we will be prepared to Burn this infection clean! to cut away this cancerous growth that has infected our Horde!"

They all stood, Krogon, Tazok, all. Drew blades and raised them high for the unified chant.

"Ours is the most important of charges! a ward we must protect with our lives at all costs! To Safe-guard against corruption and evil of the likes once wrought upon us by the Warlocks and accursed Fel! We perform this without mercy! We do this without thanks or reward! We do this Until our last breath!"

They took a breath.

"For the Burning Blade!"