Allegiance

[Project_Xii]

(Based on the 4rth (?) orc mission of Warcraft 2, involving Cho'galls search for the troll Zuljin)

Allegiance


“Move your worthless hides” bellowed the twin heads of Cho’gall, “You’ll rest when I damned well say you can.”
A shared groan rose from the group of ragtag orcs. However, the giant steel club ‘thwacking’ in the scowling ogres hand told them he meant business. With considerable effort they picked up their gear and began to march again.

Cho’gall and his Twilight Hammer Elite trundled steadily through the wasteland around them. The air was thick with dust and fresh water had been scarce. As tough as the Elite were, it was beginning to take its toll. Panting tongues and straining muscles displayed the trauma affecting them.

One of the frontline orcs, unable to keep the pace any longer, simply fell on his face into the clay. In true orc tradition, when it came to fallen comrades, the rest of the group marched over him as if he no longer existed. Only Cho’gall paused; long enough to swing his club and drive the orcs face deeper into the earth.

“Let it be an example: the weak will be abandoned, the fallen forgotted” remarked Cho. Gall nodded in agreement. This ‘morale boost’ made the troop pick up the pace, which pleased them. ‘To be weak is unworthy’ the phrase entering their shared minds at the same time.

*****

“Alright pond scum, take a break.”

The Elite collapsed as one and relieved their aching bodies. Some rushed to the nearest bush, while others took off their packs and scrummaged around for some stray pieces of dried meat or stale bread. Cho’gall sat on a large rock and stifled a coughing fit. He did not wish his clan members to see how his own body was suffering. A leader is not weak.

He was far older then any of the orcs that accompanied him though, and they probably knew it. As he watched, one of the more respected Elite cautiously walked up and stood in front of him.

“Grunt Murgle, asking if it ok to speak without getting head bashed in” the orc said nervously. Cho’gall stared him down for a few seconds then waved his hand.

“Speak Murgle, if you must”.

“Me and others… we was wondering…” he paused, thinking over his next statement, “wondering… what is we doing out here? It been a week almost. What is we supposed to be looking for?” He finished and took a step back, eyes focused on the massive club at the ogres side.
Cho’gall showed no signs of anger though. In fact, he looked almost pleased.

“Ahhhh…” Cho said, “I was wondering when one of you –“

“- would have the courage to ask me that” finished Gall.
Murgle stopped cowering and looked slightly amazed. Then he grinned, showing his rampant ginger vitus. Cho’Gall lifted his monstrous foot and pounded it down, shaking the ground.

“Troop, fall in. It’s briefing time.”

The exhausted orcs dragged themselves to their feet and staggered over to their leader, before collapsing once again and awaiting his words.

“We, the Elite of Twilight Hammer Clan, have been chosen too seek out a very important individual” began Cho. “As you know, the Orcish Tribes have only just gained a foothold in Lordaeron and our camps are not strong.”

“One well planned attack from the humans and we could loose our grip on this land” continued Gall. “It is our Warchief, Ogrim Doomhammer’s, wish that we find Zuljin, the rogue Troll and leader of their of the species, and convince him –

“- through any means necessary -“

“- to rally to our cause. We do not know his exact location, but it was last heard he was raiding an Elven camp very near to here. We must return with the allegiance of the trolls –“

“- or not return at all.”

The orcs shifted uncomfortably. None of them feared death; it was an inevitable part of their lives. But to fail the Warchief and be exiled from the clans... that was another matter. After a short silence, one of the younger orcs stood up.

“Maybe… maybe we should be going boss?”
Cho’gall roared in laughter; a horrible all-round sound, much like two dogs simultaneously having their tails pulled off.

“Now that’s the kind of enthusiasm –“

“- I like to see”

*****

Before long a thin spire of smoke could be spotted in the distance. The orcs grew silent and cautious, peering around them for any possible ambush locations. Cho’gall too began to slow his pace so as to lessen the constant “boom boom” of his hefty weight on foot.

“Half-wits about you, troop. If my guess is right, I’d say that’s what’s left of the Elven encampment. We have no idea what’s in store for us there.”
They slowed from a fast jog to a quick walk as they drew closer. Axes raised, the orcs sniffed the air and studied the area around them. It was dead quiet; not a bird or insect to be heard, and no sounds of battle clashing in the distance. Dead.

As the Elven encampment came into view, they saw how true that was. Bodies lay strewn everywhere, elves and trolls alike. The guard posts were now smouldering heaps; the guards themselves had been impaled with thick spears and rammed into the ground.

The Twilight Hammer Elite crept through the entrance gates, hanging barely by one hinge, and fanned out to search the wreckage. The trolls had been very thorough ith their work.

Everything that could be pillaged had been pillaged; everything that moved had been killed. Even the chickens hadn’t been spared. The small farm huts had been raised, and the barracks utterly gutted. Those that had been of the Elvish Defense lay with axes in their backs in the dust.

Cho’gall mused over the sight before him. The Trolls were more resourceful then he imagined. Now he just had to find out where they’d gone after laying waste to their enemies.

“Snitch” he boomed. “Come.”

The head of a thin, lanky orc popped up from behind some rubble. He had been busy defiling an Elvish corpse and looked most annoyed at being interrupted in the middle of it. But not wishing to displease his leader, he hastily loped over and kneeled at Cho’galls feet.

“Yes, mighty Cho’gall” he hissed, “What you please me do?”

“Find the Trolls trail -” said Cho, “-and report back at once” finished Gall.
“At once” Snitch replied. Then he dropped down on all fours and began to sniff the dirt. Spanning his limbs much like a spider, he began to creep along the ground, sniffing footprints, corpses, weapons. Cho’gall got comfy on some uncharred hay as he watched his loyal scout search.
After some time Snitch came galloping back from the other side of the camp. He bowed at the ogre’s feet again.

“Mighty Cho’gall, Trolls made hole in wall, other side of camp. They left through that. But…” he paused. Gall raised his eyebrow.

“But?” he repeated.

“But… Elves have followed them. Not know how many… only few… but they be angry… their scent still lingers in the air… fear… hatred… if they find Zuljin, they probably kill him.”

Cho’gall rubbed his chins and thought this over. Elves out for revenge... Snitch was probably right. There was little chance Zuljin and his tribe would simply be taken captive. Death would be almost assured.

“Hammer Elite, fall in. We may have very little time. Snitch in front, forward march!”

[RevenantsKnight]

Overall, this is a decent start to a story. You’ve got a solid plot and a number of nice details on the mentality of the orcs; the story as a whole reads reasonably well as a first chapter of something larger. There are a number of grammatical and spelling issues here, though, which makes me put more effort than necessary to understand what you’re trying to say. In addition, the story reads a bit too much like a list in a few spots, and could benefit from some more description. So, in the spirit of constructive criticism, here goes:

A general note: to indicate possession, use an apostrophe in between the noun and the “s,” i.e. a club owned by an ogre would be an “ogre’s club.”

On descriptive elements: Consider painting a more vivid world around the orcs; talk about the sky or the terrain around them. What’s the weather like, and what time of day is it? Also, what do the orcs look like? What sort of weapons and armor are they carrying? Answering questions of this type in your writing helps the reader imagine the world of your story.

Here are some specific comments:

Cho’gall and his Twilight Hammer Elite trundled steadily through the wasteland around them. The air was thick with dust and fresh water had been scarce.

Erm...correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t remember any “dusty wasteland” type of terrain in or near the Elven forests. The closest thing I can think of would be in Khaz Modan, but that’s too far south for elves.

Only Cho’gall paused; long enough to swing his club and drive the orcs face deeper into the earth.

A semicolon doesn’t work here since the second clause isn’t a complete sentence on its own. My suggestion is to replace it with a comma and add a few choice words to combine the two into a single sentence.

“Let it be an example: the weak will be abandoned, the fallen forgotted” remarked Cho. Gall nodded in agreement. This ‘morale boost’ made the troop pick up the pace, which pleased them. ‘To be weak is unworthy’ the phrase entering their shared minds at the same time.

“Forgotted” should be “forgotten”; the "it" in the first sentence should be "this." Also, the last sentence is a fragment and shouldn’t stand on its own. To make it a complete sentence, you could rearrange it into something like “The phrase ‘To be weak is to be unworthy’ entered their shared mind at the same time.” Don’t use this example word for word, as it doesn’t flow with the rest of the paragraph, but something to that effect should do nicely.

He finished and took a step back, eyes focused on the massive club at the ogres side.

Nice touch. Things like this help bring your story to life in the reader’s mind.

Then he grinned, showing his rampant ginger vitus. Cho’Gall lifted his monstrous foot and pounded it down, shaking the ground.

I think you mean “gingivitis.”

“One well planned attack from the humans and we could loose our grip on this land” continued Gall.

That should be “lose.”

They slowed from a fast jog to a quick walk as they drew closer. Axes raised, the orcs sniffed the air and studied the area around them.

What did the orcs see? Since the reader isn’t there, he or she won’t know what’s around the war party unless you tell them. Describing things like this isn’t essential per se, but without such details, stories can get boring fast.

It was dead quiet; not a bird or insect to be heard, and no sounds of battle clashing in the distance. Dead.

As the Elven encampment came into view, they saw how true that was.

The lone “Dead” before the line break seemed out of place to me, and having the next sentence refer back to it felt awkward. I suggest rewriting this part; it disrupts the flow of your story.

The guard posts were now smouldering heaps; the guards themselves had been impaled with thick spears and rammed into the ground.

“Smoldering” doesn’t have a “u” in it.

Cho’gall mused over the sight before him.

“Mused over” is awkward in this context. I’d get rid of the “over” and replace “mused” with “pondered” or something of that sort.

Cho’gall got comfy on some uncharred hay as he watched his loyal scout search.

“Comfy” is an overly casual word for the adventure-and-battle atmosphere you’ve been working on.

To sum up: this story’s got some good elements, but it would benefit from another round of proofreading and a little more time spent on the world and the orcs. Don't be discouraged by the amount of comments; that happens to everyone (well, almost everyone) when they write something and show it to someone else for the first time.

[Project_Xii]

Wow.. um.. thank you :)

I was actually just looking for a place to post and link to, cause it wouldn't let me post on my usual forum. Wasn't actually expecting any feedback from here :P

I certainly appreciate you taking the time to critque the beginning of my story, i shall go about fixing it straight away.

You sure it wasn't a wasteland? Hm... haven't played War 2 in a long time.. but i swear i remember the land being very brown and muddy looking. Oh well, i thought it made the story sound abit more interesting then a casual stroll through a pretty forest :D

[Project_Xii]

The Orc band shuffled through what had now become dense woodland. Most of the trees were pines and oaks, their leaves brown and nutrient starved. Snitch was still in front, loping awkwardly along. Every now and then he paused and sniffed the air, or dropped on all fours to study some spoor.

“We is getting close… yes… trolls come this way. Elves not follow… not know where elves have gone” he said, somewhat confused.

Cho’gall knew better then to hope the hunters had just given up the chase. Elves could be vengeful creatures when they set their minds to it. He scanned the path in front of them, the trees to their sides. And suddenly his sharp eyes spotted something.

“Troop halt!” he said abruptly. They did so instantly, for his tone had a strong urgency about it. They stood at attention, watching him silently.
Cho’gall wasn’t moving. Merely standing and staring. They followed his line of sight to the top of tree, but saw nothing. Then, with a ground rumbling bellow he swung his mace and smashed it into the base of the tree. At the same instant a single arrow flew out and lodged itself in the flesh over his heart.

The enraged ogre ignored his injury and rushed forward to catch the tree as it fell. With another howl he began to shake it furiously. A frightened shout, followed by a heavy thud, and there on the path lay a young, dazed elf. Cho’gall threw the tree off the track and bent down to pick up his prey.

“Ho ho ho! What do we have here? A little elvish spy hmm?” he held the elf by his leg upside down, and brought him up so they were face to face. The elf was clearly terrified. Cho’s lips curled into a silent snarl, while Gall licked his slow and deliberately.

“My, you’re a young one” said Gall, “What were you doing out here all by yourself?”

The elf opened and closed his mouth a few times, but no words came out. Cho leaned in close.

“I’d answer his question if I were you” he whispered, “I can’t be responsible for what he might do. He’s always had a thing for elf meat.”
Gall was beginning to salivate. This seemed to snap the elf out of his shock.

“Oh gods, please don’t eat me! I’m just a scout! They left me behind to guard the path, prevent any trolls sneaking back for a flanking attack. I’m not important ple-ease don’t eat me!” he began to sob uncontrollably. Gall sneered in disgust.

“Bah, he’s merely a boy. Lacks even the base courage of a warrior elf –“

“- although even a warrior elf has been known to cry when met with a face like yours” snicked Cho. Gall replied by head butting him.

“What we do with him?” asked a curious orc. The troop had been silent so far, observing the interaction between the vastly unbalanced opponents.
Cho’gall studied his catch thoughtfully, and was suddenly aware of a biting pain. He looked down, pulled the arrow from his chest, and waggled it in front of the elf’s nose.

“Not the best aim in Lordaeron, are we?” Gall said. The elf stopped sobbing and became slightly indignant.

“That… that was a good shot! Perfectly centred on your heart. For my age, it was brilliant aim; I was the best in my class. By all means, you should be dead.”

Cho’gall burst into a fit of laughter, forcing the elf to cover his ears in agony.

“Ho ho ho… elf you amuse me. Tell me, in this class of yours, did they teach how thick the skin of an ogre is? Did you not read of battles between your kind and ours? Quivers of arrows have been wasted on us, succeeding only in irritating our sensitive stomachs.”

The Elite let out a chortle of laughter at this. Cho’galls ‘sensitive stomach’ was always cause for a good joke during after-battle campfire feasts.

“But enough small talk. Tell me of the elves; how many, who leads you and what are your plans for the trolls?” Cho began to swing the elf slightly to and fro like a pendulum.

“Ah… stop! The elves… we’re few in number… I’d say only eight, maybe nine survived the raid. Our leader is Ral’Tundras… he’s hell bent on revenge. Plans to kill every troll in the raiding party… except Zuljin… capture him alive. He’s going to take him back to the Elven Lords and have him executed as an example.”

Cho’gall stopped swinging the elf and grinned.

“See now, that wasn’t too hard, was it?” Cho chuckled. Gall moved in close, his giant eyeball merely centimetres from his victims face.

“Tell me, what do they call you?” he snorted. The elf looked slightly confused.

“My name... my name is Erick.” He stuttered. Gall leaned in closer.

“Wrong. You’re called ‘fresh meat’.”

The Twilight Hammer Elite waited until the screams and cracking of bones had ceased, before shouldering their gear to continue the journey. Ogres could be disgusting sometimes – only an ogre leader would neglect to spare some left overs for his troops.

(More to come)

[Project_Xii]

*****

The company came to a sudden and unexpected halt. Cho’gall, who was lumbering along at the back, growled in warning.

“I didn’t say you could stop maggots” he boomed.

Murgle left the group and hurried over.
“It Snitch. He’s spooked. Refuses to move.”

Cho’gall looked past his troop and spotted their scout hunched on the pathway up ahead. Snitch looked nervous and confused, sniffing the air and swaying his head from side to side. No doubt he could sense something, but what and where had him baffled. Cho’gall walked up softly and bent down to whisper in his ear.

“What is it? Are the elves about?”

Snitch took a tentative step forward.
“Don’t know… can smell them, but can’t see them. They’re very close… watching us… but they not in the trees…” He took another step forward.

An arrow flew out and skewered through the thin orcs throat. He grabbed at it in desperation, gurgling as dark blood squirted from the severed artery. Cho’gall caught him in one hand as he fell, and let out a roar of anger.

“Blast you elves, what honour is there in hiding in the shadows? Show yourselves, or I’ll uproot this forest tree by tree until I find you.”

The Twilight Elite waited in silence, back to back, alert and watchful for even the slightest hint of movement. Faint gurgles continued from Snitch’s corpse, which still hung limply in the ogre’s great hand.

Suddenly, a voice spoke from the path ahead.
“Very well, Ogre, we shall be revealed. We will stay our weapons if you will stay yours.”

Before Cho’galls eyes, four elves materialized, a mere ten or so metres away. He noticed immediately it was their cloaks that granted them this amazing ability. As they were removed, the elves draped them over their arms. The fine material ruffled slightly in the breeze but when it came to rest, it blended in perfectly with the environment. The elves covered arms appeared to vanish completely.

“We have not heard from our young scout” said one of the elves, “Are you and your green skinned companions to blame for this, Ogre?”
Cho’gall grinned and spoke together in equally oblivious tones.

“A young scout you say? Why -”
“- I have no idea who you mean” Gall said, patting a fresh skull dangling from his belt. They chuckled together, then held out Snitch’s body and scowled.

“But you have just killed our own scout; unprovoked and in cold blood. I hope whatever happened to your young elf was equally as cruel.”

“We have no quarrel with your kind today, Ogre. Nor your… contemptible looking friends there. We’re merely looking for a lost comrade, and you’re growing dangerously close to our current refuge. We thought it best we killed your scout now, to prevent us having to kill you all later when you stumbled into our camp.”

Cho’gall raised his eyebrows at this new information, but quickly composed himself and snorted loudly.

“These ‘friends of mine’ are Orcs. You will come to know their kind well enough in time. And I am Cho’gall, leader of the Twilight Hammer Clan. You would do well to let us pass, little elves. I do not feel like picking your squishy bits from between my toes today.” The orcs murmured a laugh, and the elves were noticeably annoyed.

“This we can not allow. We will say again; our quarrel is not with you today. Turn around and leave. Now.”

Cho’galls’ faces suddenly became very grave, and he dropped the body of Snitch into the dust. Rising to his full height, he took a few steps towards his opponents, only stopping when they aimed their bows towards him.

“Now you listen,” Cho began in a low voice, “we know why you’re out here; we’ve been through your ruined encampment. We know you’ve been hunting the Troll leader Zuljin and plan to capture and return him to your Lords.”

“And from what you’ve told us,” interrupted Gall, “it appears you’ve already got him and will soon be heading home. This -“
“- we cannot allow” Cho said, mimicking the Elf’s earlier words. “Our business is with Zuljin, and we’re going to claim him. With or without your blood on our axes.”

The Elite raised their weapons in reply, sensing a battle mere moments away, while the elves remained motionless, staring at the massive beast before them.

“Then you will forfeit your own lives for his” said one of the elves finally.
Simultaneously they donned their cloaks and disappeared. The orcs readied themselves, expecting an onslaught of arrows. But none came. Cho’gall studied the path ahead, and noticed irregularities in the view. The cloaks were good, but when in motion they could only do so much to hide their owners. The elves were fleeing.

“After them troops! They’re going to warn the camp!” Cho’gall launched into his enormous strides, pelting down the lane through the trees. As he ran, he leant down and scooped some dust into his hand. Rearing back, he hurled it as far as he could.

Loud coughing was the response he had hoped for, and a dust covered elf was suddenly very visible on the pathway.
Spying a boulder to the side, Cho’gall paused and heaved it upon his mighty shoulders. The elf was still running, trying to rub the dust from his eyes.

“Hey Elf” boomed Cho.

The elf glanced over his shoulder and tried to make out what the ogre was holding. His mouth opened wide when he realised.

“Catch” yelled Gall.

He hurled the boulder bowling style down the path. It travelled at such speed the elf didn’t even have time to jump for the safety of the trees. A sickening crunch said Cho’gall had scored a strike.

*

The Elite circled the flattened corpse and marvelled at the ogres’ handy work; most had no idea how far a body could be stretched. Cho’gall pushed his way through the crowd and, after a few moments study, began to peel off the mysterious cloak. Much to his disappointment, it disintegrated in his hands.

“Intriguing” he mumbled. “It appears the magical properties of the cloaks are tied to the owner and him alone. What better way to prevent your enemies acquiring tools that could be used against you.” He emptied the cloak-dust from his hand and kicked the body in disgust.

“It is a shame. We could have used that to our advantage.” He stared down the path into the distance; the boulder had come to rest at the base of a tree. Tell-tale red stains still covered its surface.

“Those three will be back at the camp soon. There, one of two things will happen -“
“- either they’ll pack up and leave, taking Zuljin with them –“ continued Gall
“- or they’ll set up an ambush and wait for us to arrive” finished Cho.

“Hmm... well either way” said Murgle, “it be fun when we finally catch them.” He petted his weapon lovingly. “Axey be itching to bite Elf flesh.”

Cho’gall looked down at the smirking orc and nodded in agreement.
“And we have no other choice. Advance troop, our goal is not far ahead.”

[0xDEADCAFE]

I like this story, especially the characterization of the ogre and the interplay of his two heads. It's been a while since I played WC2 and this has brought the game back to me. I don't think I ever liked an ogre before reading this.

As for the issue of whether or not there was a wasteland in WC2, it seems like there was some dark brown terrain somewhere. But, despite the occasional reference to dust and dirt, I keeping picturing green grass and lush trees in every scene. If you think the terrain is an important part of the story I would second the suggestion that you try to paint a more vivid picture of the landscape.

Some specific comments:

I assume you are saying that the orcs hadn't known how far a body could be stretched before seeing what happened to this elf, in which case you want to use "had had" rather than just the single "had". As it is, you seem to be suggesting that they still have no idea even though they are looking right at "the ogre's handy work." Incidentally, I think this is a very good use of a semi-colon.
The Elite circled the flattened corpse and marvelled at the ogres’ handy work; most had no idea how far a body could be stretched.

I don't think a corpse would actually gurgle. But even if a corpse can gurgle, it would have much more impact with me if it had been a gurgle from a live, suffering, soon-to-be-dead victim, rather than from someone already dead. Upon hearing that a corpse was gurgling, I really could not have cared less.
Faint gurgles continued from Snitch’s corpse, which still hung limply in the ogre’s great hand.

[Project_Xii]

Further along the path, the trees suddenly gave way to reveal a river. This was not something the Elite had planned on. The water flowed deep and fast, and crossing it would surely be perilous. Of far more interest, however, was what lay on the rivers grassy banks.

“I think we’ve found the scene of Zuljins capture” Cho’gall rumbled, concern in his features.

Before them on the bank lay nearly thirty trolls. All dead; arrows through their necks and spines. Axes lay strewn in the ground and imbedded in tree trunks. It was obvious they couldn’t see what was attacking them. Two or three elves hadn’t been so lucky, and lay awkwardly at the bottom of theirs trees; victims of randomly thrown axes from disorientated trolls.

Cho’gall grimly strode up to one of the corpses. The Elite watched in silence as he lifted a dead troll up and examined it. Suddenly he brought his hands together around its skull, cracking it open like an egg.

With one of his fingers he scooped the trolls brain from his casing, and let the body fall onto the grass. Then he sat down cross legged, holding the trolls brain in the palm of his left hand, closed his eyes, and went silent.
The Elite waited. Hushed mumbles started, questions and confusion. Murgle finally spoke up:

“Master Cho’gall not become leader of Twilight Hammer for no reason. He has many great powers. Me thinks he trying to learn what happened with the trolls. It rumoured he could “unlock the secrets of the mind” but me never seen it done.”

By the river side, the twin minds of Cho’gall were beginning to merge. The brain in his palm began to pulsate, as if new life flowed through it. Behind his closed eyes, light was beginning to form and suddenly:

*

“Heh heh… we deed real good, ay boss?”
The voice wasn’t his own. Yet it came from the body he inhabited; he see could see what the body saw; hear what it heard. He had no control over its actions, he was merely a spectator in a scene long past.

“Yah, ya’s done good. Da boss be well pleased wit’cha.”

The troll in the body’s vision at the moment was larger then the others. He had vivid blue hair, unusual by any standards, and he hid the lower portion of his face behind a scarf baring his tribe symbols. It was Zuljin, there was no doubt.

“We be in’joying da likes of elf goods ta’night.” Zuljin gloated. The vision scanned and Cho’gall saw more trolls. Many trolls. All had great sacks over their shoulders; some were stuffing their faces with eleven food or body parts. It was grotesque and inspiring at the same time.

“Boss,” said one troll suddenly, “Jah smell that?” The troll had his nose in the air, nostrils wavering in and it, detecting scent.

“What’cha be smellin’?” Zuljin asked, looking serious.

“I be smellin’…. Elves. Close by too.” He began to gaze around him, looking for signs. The troop became deadly silent. Cho’galls body crouched and scanned the trees tops, sniffing loud and deliberately.

“Bah, jah be smellin’ ya’self” one of the trolls muttered, “Lookit’cha, covered in da elf blood. It’ta wonder you can smell anythin’ ‘cept elf.”

The troop seemed to relax, and Zuljin nodded.
“Yah, he be right. Let’s keep movin’.”

Zuljin walked to the river bank, crouched, and sprang. He cleared the river by a good few metres, and within the host trolls mind, Cho’gall was surprised at the amazing dexterity he possessed.

“Comon, move it wit’cha’s, we gots’ta get back to camp and-“

A sudden scream from a troll snapped Cho’galls head to the left. An arrow had pierced it through the throat; blood gushing in endless pumping squirts.

“We be ambus-“ started one troll, before falling to the ground, arrow through his chest.

Cho’galls body began to run for the cover of a tree, while all around him arrows where flying thick and fast. The trolls were in a panic, spinning in circles and lobbing axes in all directions.
The troll Cho’gall inhabited had almost made it to a tree trunk, when an arrow hit the dirt at his feet. He jumped back, and looked above him.

Just as Cho’gall would do in the future, the troll spotted an irregularity in his vision; a wavering apparition jumping from one tree top to another. With a vengeful war cry, the troll pulled an axe from his belt and hurled it, hitting his target in the hip.

The cloaked elf gave a cry and fell from his perch; an odd site to see branches on a tree breaking and giving away under seemingly thin air. A loud thud, followed by a groan, and the elf was visible to Cho’galls eyes on the grass.

The troll immediately flung himself upon the fallen form, tearing and hacking for all it was worth.

Although he couldn’t control this vessel, Cho’gall was still in a way very connected to it, and as the troll tore into the fragile, white skin, he could feel the blood rage building inside of him. His own mind was screaming “more” even as the troll stood and mumbled the words himself.

“More” he said, through lips dripping with blood, “must… have more!”

Some of the other trolls had managed to find and bring down one or two of their invisible attackers, and were in the same process of mutilating their kills. A soft thud and a puff of dust alerted Cho’galls troll to an elf upon the ground, and with a bellow he lunged towards it. Blind with fury, lusting for flesh, he barely slowed when an arrow pierced his shoulder.

Another hit him in the gut, causing him to doubt over, but still he did not stop. He barrelled into his unseen foe, knocking them both to the ground in a tangle of visible and invisible limbs. The cape tore under the trolls clawing hands, and the elf was suddenly revealed.

Raising his hands, Cho’galls body pounded the elf skull over and over, until a sudden nausea seemed to take hold. His vision scanned down to his stomach, where dark blood and soft, throbbed innards were protruding through the now gaping hole torn by the arrow.

Cho’gall felt his body weaken, and the troll fell to his knees. Across the river, Zuljin was wrestling in a net that had been caste over him; unseen attackers held large clubs and were striking at his head, attempting to render their prey unconscious.

The troll fell forward onto his face. Things had become quiet now. The only sounds were Zuljins efforts, and the gurgling of other dieing trolls around him. It was getting dark. Cho’gall new the time of his vessel fate was near. Soft footsteps coming towards him made the troll roll onto his side in a last ditch effort to fight. But his strength was faded; he could do nothing but stare up at the vague outline above him.

“Filthy vermin” said a deep eleven voice.

Cho’gall felt a foot press down on his throat, and suddenly:

*

“Boss, are you ok?” Murgles voice sounded far off, “Boss, wake up”

Cho’gall opened his eyes and gasped in air as if he’d been holding his breathe for an eternity. He looked around him and saw he still on the river bank, but much time had passed since the battle he’d just witnessed

His left hand was clenched so tightly he had to concentrate to open it. The mashed remains of the trolls brain he wiped onto the grass.

“How long was I gone for?” asked Cho.

“Not long. But you were making weird noises. Murgle worried bout you; sound like you were fighting something.”
Cho’gall shook his heads and stood up.

“Zuljin is definitely alive, but what was once his tribe lays in the dust around us. When we find these elves, we will be on our own. Maybe we can free him –“
“- he’ll no doubt be after bloody vengeance-“
“- but there will be no other trolls to back us up.”

The Elite nodded in understanding.

“How we going to cross the river?” asked one orc.
Cho’gall thought for a moment, then strode over to a tree. Using his mighty strength - a fair bit of bellowing - he ripped this tree from its roots as he had done to the scouts one earlier. Laying it across the river, he gestured to his newly made bridge:

“No more excuses. Now move; we have some elves to skin.”