The Tauren 1st Hammer Division, Draekon's Dream

[Draekon]

The guns of Alterac roared over head, thundering from the 'murder holes' built into the stone, steel and plaster bunkers of the dwarves. The snow had begun to melt around the bunker from the sheer heat of the war itself. Blood tinged, the virgin white was now defiled with crimson and visera. Knelt behind a single out cropping of rock, a massive figure donned in fine steelt plate trimmed in gold clutched his massive hammer in great, plated digits. The cold bite of winter could not reach beyond the thick sinews or short black fur of the creature as he narrowed his molten gold eyes. He focused on the task at hand as the smell of cordite, stale fear and death clogged his nostrals.

"I am the hammer." He intoned, the black muzzle of the Tauren emitting the low, gravely voice. Other voices joined in, heaviy armored Tauren having taken up positions behind trees and rocks near him as well. They spoke in unison, voices even and powerful, unafraid of what they were about to do.

'The edge of the sword.'

They moved as one, raising above or moving around their hidding spots as they roared their battle chant. Draekon lead with his left shoulder, the larger and thicker pauldron deflecting a bullet from the emplacement, spraying sparks and heated metal in all directions while causing the Tauren to jerk slightly in his run. He did not slow.

'The tip of the spear.'

They made it to the bottom of the bunker, crouched down they looked inbetween one another, counting for losses as gauntleted paws moved for gernades and released the safety levers. Two gernades per Tauren, one hole to toss it in each.

'The gauntlet apon the hand.'

Gerades were loosed, tossed into the 'Murder Holes' as they were so aptly named. The rooms inside were soon filled with smoke, fire, shrapnel and death. Most were turned to paste or simply disintergrated, blood washing over the walls in a great torrent as the force of the explosions coupled with the small rooms, enclosed rooms and the shrapnel did the rest. Draekon rose, roaring incoherently as he charged around the curve of the bunker and into the entrace. His heart hammered within, the purple and gold tabbard he wore fluttering and he noticed the guns had fell silent. He stood in the entrance of the bunker, yet he looked into his home in Booty Bay. It was scattered, a mess, ransacked and thoroughly searched. Numerous items were missing and a small form laid sprawled in the corner. The shadows gathered, and he oculd not make it out, but he knew who the form belonged to. Blood crept forth, spreading across the floor and slowly, almost methodicly, began to gather around his hooves and climbed up his armored legs.

'If I promised you a never ending war...'

The voice hissed in his ears as the blood crept up his legs, devouring him, drowning him.

'If I promised you endless killing and death....'

Flashes of Selene's face flickered across his field of vision, obscuring everything. Though, he could still feel the warm, sticky wetness of the blood creeping up his form.

'If I promised you everything the darker side of you yerns for...Would you take it?'

[Draekon]

The Tauren floated in a sea of black. Cold clawing and tugging at his limbs like unseen hands. Thousands of voices spoke at once of past, present and futures. Billions of would have beens, should bes and current happenings echoed through his mind. The fast scape of information that his miniscule, mortal brain could never comprehend. Shapeless shadows danced on the horizons, singing insanity and chaos, ever changing their tune as the sands of time shifted and flowed masterless, free as a wild animal. Though, amongst all of these voices, thoughts and emotions that tore at Draekon from every being that had lived, died or yet to be, a single one rose above them all...

'Time to shit or get off the latrine, Nightmane.'

The voice hissed in an annoyed manner. Draekon felt as if he had been scolded by an old friend for being late or indesicive. He growled impotantly as he floated in the morass of time.

'Yes, yes. Defiant to the end. Cornered, the beast still fights even though he fears. Thats what I like about you. You've soaked up alot of damage in your time, just like most adventurers, killed just as many people.'

An emotion rose above the thousands of colors of emotion, shining colorless yet brighter then burning pospor amongst them. Draekon was compelled to chuckle by it. He stopped himself immediately.

'I want to show you something...'

The black seemed twist around him, colorless as it were, he could some how see the black against the rest of the black. Odd. Draekon didn't like it. It swirled, twisting and wrenching itself untill a small point of light was formed, drawing Draekon into the pin hole...

The armored hooves hit the grassy field with a heavy thud. The verdant reaches of the Mulgorian Plains stretching out as far as the eye could see. Fresh air assaulted Draekon's already confused senses as the whisper of grass replaced the insane rasp of the black dephs he had just come from. Below him stood a great host. Numerous tents and small, one room huts had been errected midways between Bloodhoof Village and Thunder Bluff. All in military fashion, neatly ordered and ranked, different platoons and companies sectioned off from one another. To the west, a glint of metal caught his attention and there stood the Division that the homes belonged to. They were mostly tauren, by size and the horns, dressed in thick plate and carrying massive hammers. Mixed into them were numerous races of the Horde, shorter, stout shapes of the Orcs contrasting while the tall, lanky trolls haunched in their positions. Undead were the fewest but still there, standing at differing slouches depending on the state of their rot.

'The Tauren 1st Hammer Division.' The voice whispered to him, a rasping chuckle echoing in his ear. 'Well, mostly Tauren anyway. This is the real beauty of the Horde's military. Best assault troupes they could muster. Each and everyone of them trained to use gernades, morters and other nasty little objects of destruction along with their hammers.' Draekon was filled with pride for a moment, and crouched, looking over each one with a frown, but his question was answered before he could ask it.

'Yes, these were the ones you were leading in Alterac.'

The Tauren began to speak again, but the voice was way ahead of him. 'You are, well would have been, the founder of this Division.' The voice affirmed, Draekon almost felt as if it had nodded. 'Look there.'

Striding out of the tent nearest of the numerous platoon formations he came. Wearing the same armor he had on the battle field, along with Sanctuary's tabbard of purple with golden trim and the golden hammer. He began his inspection, Selene at his heels or side depending on the situation. He smiled, laughed and talked amongst each of his men. Dismissing each company after their inspection with extra rations of whatever alcoholic beverage they could get their hands on. Selene wore a simple dress as she always had and seemed happy to stand by, giving support when she could. Draekon looked away form himself and what could have been.

'Why? Well, thats the question, now isn't it?'

* * *

[Draekon]

'What you see here...'

The voice rasped as Draekon stood up, doing his best to ignore it as he began to stride quickly down the slope of the hill he stood on. The fresh grass felt good beneath his hooves as the long tendrils reached up to brush against his armor with a soft hiss and thud as he walked. It was spring, the Tauren could tell by the smell of the plains. Sweet, blooming wild flowers and herbs were springing to life after months of winter. The sun was warm, almost too warm for his armor to be comfortable...Comfortable is a loose term of course.

'Is a 'would have been', Nightmane. Something that would have happened if something else in the past hadn't disrupted it.' The voice said to him, whispering in a cinnamon and sugery way. 'This would have happened if Selene hadn't been...murdered...'

The Tauren growled irrately, his good mood spoiled by the mention of Selene dying. He set his gaze stubbernly on the tent he had entered with her earlier and made for it post haste. He waded through the camp, slipping in between tents, trolls, tauren, orcs and a few scattered undead. They were all having their recreational time. This was spent in a number of ways ranging from games to polishing armor, sharpening weapons, making gernades and reloading morters. They all talked amongst themselves, sharing tales that all Warriors told one another a thousand times over but never got tired of them. Some cooked, some smoked but they all drank. Draekon went un-noticed even after walking directly through a group of Tauren who were gathered around a cooking fire.

'The Tauren First Hammer Division was created by you shortly after you and Selene decided to move to Orgrimmar. You joined the ranks and fought in numerous campaigns in the Gultch, Basin and Valley.' The voice went on as if it were reading off a list. 'You were given the rank of General and put in charge of a small regiment of Tauren in the defense of Alterac. There you began building your mechine.'

Draekon stopped in mid stride as the scene around him seemed to twist and ripple, swirling like water. The colors faded and everything turned grey. Suddenly, he was standing back on the frozen slopes of Alterac, looking over the northern most watch tower. He stood before it with a small contingent of Tauren. He was speaking loudly, instructing them. He didn't realise for a moment that he held a Thorium Gernade in his hand, and was instructing them how to use it.

'The men loved you. You took time to teach them, show them the way and not be a righteous ass about it. You lead from the front, instead of standing behind your men and letting them do the fighting. Your ranks grew and your Division became a dream realised.' The voice chuckled, 'You and Selene married a week after the Division saw its first battle.'

The scene swirled again, twisting and writhing before him and he was set back into the camp again. The distant tent loomed before him, barely a hundred meters away now that he was at the edge of the camp. He picked up his stride as the desire to see her again rose in him. The hooves stopped, flattening grass and anything else that got in their way as he made for it. The Tauren made short work of the distance. The tent was huge, like those built by the tauren, and could have easily housed twenty of his men. In it a small bon fire dominated the center with different spits and metal spears proped near it. A large bedding mat dominated the north end while armor ranks and weapon stands, along with a small table filled with half finished gadgets dominated the west. The east was filled with mechanical chickens, sheep, squrriels and other toys. He saw himself near the fire, leaning in to steal a kiss from Selene as he passed towards the armor stands and began removing his armor. They spoke to one another as the Tauren changed into more comfortable clothing, a simple pair of breeches and a shirt. Draekon yerned to hear her voice again and moved closer but the mouths moved soundlessly still. This went on for a few minutes before Draekon was startled out of his revere. A small, white tauren with chocolate spots dotting her frame ran into the room. Her long brown pig tails flying as she ran to the other future Draekon, or was it the past? He didn't know, but he knew it wasn't him. The other Draekon lifted the child and frowned as she wailed to him, pointing to her knee and then out the door. At this point, two small trolls, twins by the look of them, ran in waving their arms about. The Tauren child was deposited on his knee while Draekon frowned at the two twins. Both had light blue skin and dark violate hair, the male kept his long mane in a pony tail of sorts while the female's was braided. It was apparent that they were twins. They both ran up to Draekon and began jumping up and down, pointing fingers and apparently denying whatever was said. Lastly, an young Orc sauntered in. His hair was black and short with dark, olive hued skin. He didn't speak, just ran to Selene and hid behind her dress. Selene smiled gently down at him while the other Draekon looked inbetween the tree in confusion. The real Draekon was stunned out of his wits, he looked about and the voice answered.

'Deigon is the Orc, his parents killed in the battle of Hyjal. The twins are Anisley and Srothin....Both named by Selene, she found the human name in some book or other. They lost their parents to dwarven raids. The Tauren is Tira. Her father was a good friend of yours who died on the fields of Alterac about two months ago, her mother died in birth.' The voice whispered quietly to him in a smooth, cold and souless voice. 'None of them are yours and Selenes, because it would be impossible...But you two certainly made up for it with adopting.'

The Tauren frowned, brows furrowed and jaw shifting thoughtfully. His eyes still on the scene. Selene had picked up the Orc and walked over to the group. She leaned in and whispered something to the other Draekon before kissing his cheek and setting the Orc on his other thigh and wrapping an arm about his broad shoulders as she smiled down at the group. The trolls had settled down, the other Draekon having sorted out the situation and scolded them lightly. The trolls soon joined the others in their adopted father's lap and they all talked amongst each other.

'So, heres the offer Nightmane.' The voice said softly to him as he stared at the scene with an aching heart. The Tauren shifted his gaze from it, and looked around once more, searching for the owner of the voice. Pointless, of course. 'The Caverns of Time are about to be invaded, beings will be able to pass through time with a little assistance. Everyone will be able to access whatever part of the past they want, even their own.' The voice becamne non-chalant and quiet. 'Even that faithful night...As far as who I am, I'm Oppritunity, and I'm knocking.'

[Draekon]

The darkness engulfed him agian, and he floated in the morass of what he believed was time. Once more the vast scape spread before him, dark shapes shifting in the darkness. Thousands of thoughts, pains, joys and other assorted emotions assailted the mortal mind that rested within his skull. The insane shapes danced for him once more on the horizons, serenading him with the song of chaos. Steady yet chaotic, never to stop for no one and always changing. The Tauren tried to focus with all the whisperings of what was, what would have been and what may some day be.

'Oh, so you want to know what I want?' The voice said with an amused tone, it seemed to burn through all the other whispers like a goblin dragon gun through paper. 'Nothing is free, I suppose. You'll find out, of course...For now, just focus on what you want, Nightmane. We'll be in touch.'

Suddenly, it felt as though a thousand tiny hooks had been set into his soul and with a jerk, he was dragged from the darkness. The cold, bitter reach of whatever lived within the plane releasing him with a short struggle. Draekon was later to awake with a start, finding himself in Orgrimmar where he had laid himself down to sleep.

Though, in the etheral dark of the dream a single thought reached out across the reaches, touching another. The two examined one another, sized each other up for a moment and finally made contact after a long pause.

'It has begun?'

'Yes, thousands have been beckoned.'

'Excellent...They suspect something is awry.'

'Yes, for most the offers were too good to be true...But, they'll bite. Its in their nature.'

[Vilmah]

((Ack, love Drae's writing! Keep going!))

[Rajjah]

((nicely done, I enjoyed the imagination))