Sneak Peak: Silver-Hand Tales, Part 2

[EnheilRas]

This part introduces a second character, my first Non-Orc since release. A High Profile alt I set up with extremely specific limitations on weaponry, professions, and talents. Those nerdy enugh will get it...

Anyway.. Warning: This part is very graphic

[EnheilRas]

Five years ago.,..

Aelen and Bryce rushed through the thick pinetrees of Windshear Crag, huffing breathlessly. The twohumans had gotten separated from the camp as the bas of Stonetalon Peak with the rest of the survivors of Lordaeron and gone scouting the ountaineous area with three others: A dwarven hunter, Elven Priest, and a sorcerous. They'd discovered an Orc camp south of the base. Now, one-by-one, they had disappeared. Something was chasing thm. The dwarf had fallen behind in their trek, and no one had nticed he was gone The sorcerous wa poisoned over night, and the elf never returned when he went to find anti-venom from the spiders in the Shissar Crag when the two footmen went to look for hm, the body of the mage was taken.

Out of stamina, Aelen bentover, waving down Bryce. "Stop! I can't go on any further."

OBryce turned around and puled his ally up to his feet. "We've got to keep moving. We need to get back to the--" He stopped in mid-sentence, and looked around with extreme paranoia.

Aelen noticed. "Wha--what's wrong?"

"Shut up and listen!" Aelen said.

Bryce held his breath and looked around. The Eerie hissing of the crag spiders was no more, and only the chirping of fowl high in the trees could be heard. Even the rumbling of the storm liards at the southern crag area had stopped. he exhaled, gasping, an the sudden flapping of birds' wings, one of escape, echoed down to them. Then, a lud and repetitive clicking--like from a tongue against the roof of one's mouth--could be heard.

"Is that you?" Bryce asked.

"No.." the other soldier replied.

A sudden rumbling in the overbrush quickly diverted their attention to its origin, weapons out. A insectisoid creature, in sleek black carapace with two menacing claws and a long, pronged tail, crawled out, squealing and clicking.

"Relax, it's just a scorpid," Aelen sighed in relief.

"I've never seen one like that before," Bryce exclaimed. "besides, there's no scorpids around these mountains. This isn't their habitat." He moved closer to get a look at it, and a 'click' was heard; not from the beast, but from above. Aelen looked up to see a troll, high in the trees, holding itself between two branches with its legs fully split apart, holding the scoped rifle of their dwarven ally.

"Bryce, look out!" He alerted.

Bryce stood, turning towards Aele as the shot ran out, launching a bullet to strike Bryce below his left rib. IMpacted, Bryce's body twilred and fell on his back. The troll dropped from the tree, hiking out a long spear. aelen could do nothing but scramble and run, listening to the final scream of his fellow soldier as the troll stabbed the pike down on the front of Bryce's nek, and pulled back on the stick, launching the trophy from the husk.

Quickly tying the scalp i a knot around its belt, the troll raised the rifle to its shoulders and fired a bullet aimed for Aelen's right calf. The Bullet blew a minor hole in his leg, and Aelen ell to the ground, immediately scrambling to a crawl. The troll holstered the rifle, and leapt up to a tree branch, nimbly launching himself from conifer to confier, before landing a few feet from Aelen.

"What do you want?!" the soldier screamed at the hunter.

The troll quirked its head, its dreadlocks flailing bak, and pointed to itself, "Ya'utja,"It sid, before branding claw weapons: Dual wrist blades.

Aelen reached for his sword, and was met with the Troll quickly stabbing its wrist blades into the human's bicep. Aelen screamed out, and the troll quickly recoiled, takinga long vine and began tying Aelen's legs, bounding him. The human whimpered, and suddenly felt lightheaded from his wounds. He passed out seconds later, with the maniacal troll cackling to soothe him.

[EnheilRas]

When Aelen came to, it was still daylight, but later in the afternoon,. He looked up to see the ground, his hands dangling with his fingertips inhces from the pinecone covered grass. Though sore where his wounds were, they were not bleeding. Faking unconsciousness, in his ignorance of the troll--apparently named Ya'Utja--he looked at his leg and felt his arm to discover sutures and a tourniquet. The troll had sewn him up, and he didn't know why.

Aelen glances around, inding no sign of his friends, save the troll, who was standing over wooden palette where the body of his dwarven ally was. Silently, Ya'Utja took a jagged knife and stripped the corpse of its close. The troll rolled the tubby humanoid and lifted it, removing all undergarments and stripping it of jewelry and piercings. Ya'Utja cocked its head to the side, and dipped the knife in some water beforearching above the cadaver and because shaving it, whistling to itself.

Confident that the hunter was ignoring him, Aelen shifted his weight to force the rope binding himto the confider limb to gauge his surrounding. Behind him, in great horror, he discovered a huge piece of flesh tanning, tied between two trunks. He looked keenly, and from the holes and aberrations, he determined that it was the kin of the Elven priest that was traveling with him. As Aelen, eyes wide, spun further, he saw the Elf's skinless body hanging upside down, blood and muscle missing in huge chunks as it fell to the groud where the black scorpid waited anxiously below, pincers snapping.

Ya'Utja tapped the knife in the water again, cleaning the hair from it, and raised the dwarf's chin, inserting the knife directly into its neck. With great glee, the troll slit open the skin,cutting very slowly so as to note puncture tthe jugular vein. He slowly, but skillfully, sliced the flesh along the bottom of the chin, creating a 'T' incision, which he brought down to the groin, and unfolded the corpse's flesh. He took a ripped piece of cloth, cleaning the blood from the edges of the skin, and dragged his finger along th vein uncovered inside of the dermis, licking it with a smile. He'd never tasted Dwarven blood. It was quite salty.

Ya'Utja tilted the dwarf's head forward, twiling the scalpel the full circumference of its neck. He placed all three fingers on the bald scalp, and with his claw-like nails, dug into the flesh and ripped the face clean off the skull. The Troll turned, facing the two hanging bodies, and klid the dwarf's face on his own, laughing ihis mad laugh, before pulling it off and tossing it to the dirt, unflinched from the blood now pouring from his face an dripping off his crooked nose.

The troll leaned in, polishing the skull a bit and dug out the eyeballs and nasal cavity. He opened the jaw, and gripped the tongue, and in a swift jerk, ripped it from the skul. This, to the troll, would make a fine snack. Grinning, he placed it in a ar for other 'edibles.' Ya'Utja tightened his hold on the de-fleshed cranium, and twisted the puled. With a loud 'crack!' toe it from the body, spinal cord and backbone still connected. He placed this near the jar, to be saved for cleaning like the two others: Elf and man, hanging from his belt. The Dwarf skull was notably larger, and thus would yield greater value as a trophy.

Taking the knife, Ya'Utja severed the hands and feet from the dwarf, sawing the jagged blade through the wrists and ankles spilling gore and tendons throughthe opening, and tossing the extremities to the ground. The holes drained the body of blood, leaking from the massive openings. Ya'Utjah slid the skinning knife across the arms and through the legs, peeling off the flesh to expose the big meaty frame of the Dwarven Cadaver. Ya'Utjah tossed the knife down and held onto the ankles. Roaring he pulled the body clean from the skin and spinned, tossing it into a conifer trunk with such force that it exploded in muscle and organs, intestines clinging to the bark of the tree as the hunk of tissue slid down. Using the rest of the clothes, the troll lovingly cleaned the skin and smoothed out the lumps.

The troll kneeled, taking four bolts of silk gathred from the spiders, puncturing the four extremities and tying loops with the thread. The Troll stood, and carried the pelt to two trunks, and began tying it between the two, spreadng the skin apart fully to let it bask in the setting sun. At this point, he noticed his prisoner.

"Joo b' lik'n da' shoo' 'mon? I'z b' 'op'n jooz b' pay'n 'tenshun 'cuz joo b' be'n da' nex' 'won, jah?" Ya'Utjah informed. "Joo 'oomuns dunna' mak'n da' gud prey 'cuz jooz be'z sof' an' slow, boot ja' beez gud 'nuff fo' Ya'Utjah, ri' mon?"

Aelen was just speechless as he witnessed the flesh of his former soldiers bake in the sunlight. Beams of hope peered through the gaping holes of horror.

"We'z Wahson', we'z b' know'n 'v joo lit'la camp up nort'," Ya'Utaj said to Aelen. "Aft' tomorra', da' Grom-mon b' go'n up d'ere wit' us, an' we'z gon' burn 'dem all down. Joo 'oomuns nah go'n b' 'urtin' 'den ahks no mo'."

"Hellscream?!" Aelen knew the name well. "Here?! With the Horde?" He gasped. "Oooh no... Lady Proudmoore!"

"'Nuff 'o joo mout' 'oomun," Ya'Utjah commande. "Itb' time fo' da' endin'." The Troll picked up his spear, and with a imple motion, jammed it into Aelen's heart, twisting it inside. Aelen's body immediately spasmed like a stuck pig, and he drowned coughing on his own blood.