The Unwelcome Visitor

“Hold steady Soldier. We stitched up the wounds, but do not move or they may open again.”

“Lok’tar? Ogar?”

“You live. That is always a victory. Don’t worry son, the Horde is not about to lose another son. Just be quiet. Now, did you get a good look at him?”

The Orc shuddered. “It was a creature from the very Hells, Sir. It must have been a Paladin, or a Warrior. All clad in plate armour he was.”

“A knight in shining armour? How could such a person have slipped past our guards?”

“The armour was not shining, Sir. It was black, black as coal, black as a moonless midnight, black as the very heart of Deathwing.”

“Hmm…” The healer looked down on his charge, just woken up. It was probably too early to tell him that the rest of his company was all dead, destroyed in a flurry of steel. He put a comforting hand on the guard’s shoulder. “Did you see any marks on him? A tabard, a badge? Anything that would tell us who he was?”

The guard thought a bit. “His armour had a badge on it. The only thing that was not black.”

“Good. Ever the Humans’ vanity is their downfall. Describe the badge.”

“It was round, Sir. Round, and marked with a lion’s head.”

“I know this badge. It is as I expected. We were attacked by one from Stormwind. Good. Now rest, soldier. Regain your strength. We have brothers to avenge.”

Lord Garrosh was wroth. To be fair, Lord Garrosh was always wroth, but now, he was more wroth than usual. Lord Garrosh did not appreciate his soldiers being slaughtered in his very own city, without the evildoer being caught and killed. He glared at the healer.

“Was our soldier able to speak?”

“Yes, Warchief. He told me enough.”

“Do you know who it was?”

“Yes, Warchief,” said the healer.

“It was a darkened Stormwind Knight.”

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  • korenmolen  On December 24, 2011 at 3:28 pm

    Horrible punnage. I think you have been spending too much time in Simon F’s company…

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