The Keep

The army marched. Though only a few of the Horde clans had come to Azeroth, they made the ground shake with their steps, the few ogres that had accompanied them swinging their newly made maces wildly around, the crowd grunting as they moved, hauling all their belongings with them. The Blackrock Clan was up front, led by Blackhand and his most trusted, followed by the Bleeding Hollow Clan and Twilight Hammers. They moved as one through the marshy lands, then further north into the lush, bright forests.

Kali and Lae stuck to Grimmik and Lektu’s side, walking in silence. Kali was too deep in her own thoughts and fears, her shield strapped to her back, her axe in her left hand, her right holding up Lae, and her body slumping under the weight. She was grateful that Grimmik had agreed to carry the backpack for the past few hours, her young body tired from the strain. The sun was warm and bright on the group, and their green bodies glistened with sweat while they sipped at their flasks. They’d stop along the rivers and pools they passed, filling their flasks and washing the moisture from their faces, a buzz of excitement in the air.

There was something wrong with the orcs that the innocent among them could sense, but most of the adults seemed oblivious to the lying and deceit of their leaders, or perhaps they thought they were too far gone to fix things. They cheered and walloped at Blackhand’s speeches and short succinct encouragements of their lust for blood.

After marching for a few weeks, they spotted their first human face-to-face; A voluptuous young woman with long, brown hair (Kali later found out), who was sitting at the river’s bed, found by some of the orcish scouts who were sent out ahead. They retold the tail with a great regale, making sure to mention how her eyes had widened in fear, how she childishly stumbled back into the water, and how her blood had been a bright red when their blades met her smooth, pink skin.

Kali winced as they told the story, their eyes flashing with their lust, licking their lips excitedly. They laughed and cheered at the news of the first human that had fallen at the hands of the orcish Horde, proudly showing off the meager belonging she had on her at the time of her death. They held her clothing and satchel, filled with books and silver scraps, a few vials of herbs, and a tiny skinning dagger. The items were all quickly snatched by Blackhand, and after a quick journey to the river where she laid, her body white with lack of blood, they shouted in triumph, filling their flasks with the water, and carried on.

Grimmik smiled sadistically at the body, tossing Kali back the backpack to carry, pressing his hand onto her head roughly. Kali usually wondered if her father had done the right thing, teaching her as though she were a boy. However, at the moment she saw the lifeless female body, her hair wet and matted with mud, she knew she needed to know how to fend for herself and those she loved, or else she might end up helpless and dead by a riverbank.