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The Witch (World of Warcraft fan-fiction gibi)


Saeros

Öne çıkan mesajlar

He eyed his surroundings with a nervous gaze as his grunts looked up to him. With a gesture of his fingers, three of his men left to take their positions. Another orc, his second-in-command, approached him, peering at him with a questioning gaze. With his eyes still watching, he uttered his words with a quiet, hushed tone of voice.

"The witch's near."

There was an eerie air about the forest. Even the birds had fallen quiet, hiding high up in the trees. Gurtak, the orc captain, had seen this many times before. He knew how to deal with that gut-wrenching fear and so did all of the grunts under his command, but death had come to them anyway. He had already lost almost half of his pack to the draenei witch who's been hunting them for days, but he was determined to make it out alive. They were ready this time; they had laid traps, sharpened their spears and even built a palisade around their small camp. "Let her come," he quietly muttered under his breath, perhaps to encourage himself more than anything.

And so they waited. One of the grunts let out a rattled, annoyed sigh when the first raindrops began to fall. The campfire flickered and died as the rainstorm grew more and more intense. They painted a miserable picture, this ragtag team of orcs, as they found themselves completely soaked in a manner of minutes. Heavy raindrops kept hitting and bouncing from their weapons and armour before they found the cracks in their armour and flowed down their green skin.

"I heard she killed more than a dozen of Burom's boys," one of the grunts muttered. "I heard it was fifty," another added. A young grunt from the other side of the small camp spoke up: "I heard she was killed before, but refused to die. And she will only stop once she gets her revenge..."

"Shut up, all of you," Gurtak grunted at his men, his hands gripping his weapon tightly. But before he could speak again, he hears a faint hissing sound amongst the trees, right before the death cry of one of his men reaches his ear.

"Where is she," yells one of the grunts as he looks around frantically. Another one screams out loud after a brief flash of light renders him blind. He holds his face and covers his eyes, feeling as if they're burning from the inside out. Soon, the sound of metal clashing against metal can be heard, quickly followed by a cracking noise, and one more orc drops dead, his skull busted in. Gurtak turns his head towards the noise, but suddenly finds himself unable to see as that same flash of light burns his eyes as well. He drops to the ground, rubbing his eyes in a poor attempt to gain his eyesight back, trying to ignore the dying sounds of his men.

He finally manages to open his eyes after a moment or two, just in time to see his second-in-command dying at the hands of the draenei witch, a Vindicator, her armour bloodied and battered, half of her face almost completely burnt off. She wraps her arms around the orc's head and twists it, breaking his neck with a snap as her cold gaze finds Gurtak.

He finds another one of his grunts giving his last breath with his hands around his neck, trying to stop the blood from pouring out of a large, cauterized hole. And suddenly realization dawns on him, that he's the last one standing. He finds his axe before rising up to his feet, eyeing the draenei cautiously. "So you finally came."

The Vindicator stands quietly for a moment before opening her mouth. A soft hiss can be heard, one of the few sounds she can make with her tongue cut-off.

"Why kill them? They're not the ones who killed your children. Even if they were, you know what happened back then. You know we weren't in control-"

Gurtak saw it too late - that fiery glint in the witch's eyes right before the incoming swing of her mace. He was thrown back by the might of the blow, smashing back against the palisade, then rolled over that young grunt's corpse before rising to his feet again. He could feel his ribs were already shattered by the blow, but he stood his ground nonetheless. His green, calloused hands turned into fists as he filled his lungs with air for the last time and charged at the draenei witch. "LOK'TAR OGAR!"

A red sun slowly rose behind the mountains as the Vindicator left the orc encampment behind her, bathed in the blood of her enemies; those that took her family away from her. She tried to recall the faces of her beloved children and failed, for her soul burned too hot, burning away whoever she was and whatever she had before. She was only the Vindicator, now. The Avenger.

The Witch.


[hr]


şöyle bişey yazmıştım dün, bilmiyorum burda ne kadar okuyan çıkar ama zarar gelmez dedim koydum
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Lectre said:

ben okudum çokzel olmuş, bele gözümde canlandı falan hoşuma gitti, yazdıklarını paylaş burada bence.


teşekkürler ^^

Xenus said:

https://forum.paticik.com/read.php?15,6307954,page=1

şunun devamı ne zaman geliyor?


onun için kickstarter düşünüyorum, çok talep var........
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