~A Lone Lughorn~ Mission: 10th Shatuaz

[Grik Doomhammer]

1st cycle in the Month of Kalendryas, in the Season of Winter,
Era I of the Celestine Mandate,
Era XV Post Fractum

After recieving his gear he was given a mission. One so simple that even one of the Lughorn status could complete on his own. It was an honor in which he will stop at nothing to fulfull completely. Grik rode his mount that he recieved as Rog out of the city gates, past the ill tempered worg. After given his mission it only took him a few moments to be ready, but it was dusk by the time he was trotting along the path.

'Fer Orckon Murtag' He called out to the orcs streaming into the city.

The directions were simple, and he had followed a similar path in the past. With his weapons secure the orc kicked his mount ahead, the faster he got there the quicker he would be able to complete his mission. With that mission he would be able to take his posititon, and then his role in the Horde would greatly increase.

ooc Grik is wearing Horde issued leather armour and bracers, a small buckler, his battle axe strapped to his back. His fur pelt cloak fastened to his shoulder. Stored on his mount is Horde issued round shield, shati and remaining travel rations

[Grik Doomhammer]

Grik was making good progress. The path for his mission was known to him, for in his first job within Orckon he road out on this very mount. Though they pushed the pace that time, he road with much slower snaga drawn wagons. On his own he should be able to almost double his rate of speed.

And so under the growing dusk he kicked his mount into a faster pace. His instructions had him heading south, then a slight deviation, then he would be at his destination. The moon cast a clear view of the route he had taken, allowing the orc to choose safer paths for the safty of his mount. Not that he cared to much for the animal's well fare. He just wanted to be sure he got to his destination, and the horse was his quickest route. He pushed the creature, but not past a safe level.

Slowly the candlemarks passed and Grik could feel the horses sweat on his thighs. After slowing, he soon located a small creek. It provided just enough water for the horse, Grik had spit out the muddy fluid. 'Blah, stupid horse!' he called out. He took a moment to relieve himself and break into his supplies.

They were halfway through the darkening, and the moon light was still availible. Grik wanted to push on till the sunrise brightened the skies. The horse nieghed and tossed its head, but followed it's riders request and galloped off into the night. Refreshed the pace was picked up, and Grik and his mount carried on as true Horde.

As he thought of the glories to come, the horse and rider sprinted on. They soon say the fingers of light raising to thier side, signalling it would soon be time to stop. Grik slowed the speed he demanded of the horse, to have it slowly cool down, to be able to rest when the set camp.

When the two suns had crested the horizon Grik pulled back the mount's reigns. The two then moved out of the clearing, and into the shade of the forest. Grik looked for an area that would supply the horse with grub, and shade for him to sleep. When a shaded area was found he tied up the horse, and broke into his rations once more. He spread his bedroll on the ground, and pulled the covering close to conserve his heat. With a head on the ground to feel the rumble of footsteps, and an ear out for his mounts warning cries he soon fell asleep.

[Grik Doomhammer]

Aarrggg, Grik yelled out. The whole time he rested in the shade of the trees the fething horse was right by him, it's cursed tail flicking back and forth. 'Ju dont stop, me cut it off,' he said aggravated from the hair in his face. The day had passed and soon the suns would begin to set. Grik stood and push the horse rump away, and ate a portion of his rations.

He gathered his supplies, glaring a few times at the tail of his mount. He wondered what it would look like without it. For he had a few more brightenings of travel, and if they were like this one he was sure the tail would be cropped.

After loading up the horse he walked back into the clearing. His eyes more acute as the suns had began to set, and he was able to travel more in the open which was safer for the horse. The horse seemed agitated itself, ready to be back on the road wind blowing through it's mane. The two were becoming more comfortable with each other, Grik had him for a month or so. The horse had it's own quirks and so did it's rider, such as threatening to eat it on almost a daily occasion.

Once again the candlemarks passed. The moon rose, and began to set. The weather was slightly cooler and the leather armour did little to ease the discomfort of the coolness of the wind and the bite of the wind itself. But on they rode, the second full darkening of travel. Before the morning began, they found the turn to the left they were to make. The Narim trade was more open, and thus more frequently occupied. Traveling at the time he did, Grik avoided contact with most of the other traveler. He passed by thier camps on the roadsides, without much trouble.

Once the morning came, he began to look once more for a campsite. One with an area to graze for his mount, and shade for him to take shelter in. By watching the grounds near the route he saw where caravan of wagons had pulled off and taken cover recently in the cover woods. He followed the trail off the road, and saw it would be a convienent place to camp. Secluded a bit of the road, not visable to any that happened to be riding by. As he had the morning before he set his mount to a grazing area, which took some looking for the wagon that was here before seemed to trample what grass thier mounts did not eat.

Once he found a good spot, Grik tied a slightly longer rope for the horse. Hoping it would stay abit further away, so he could sleep better. Then he rolled out his bed, and munched on the remainder of the brightenings rations. When finished he lay by the base of a tree, ear to the ground, and ear to the horse.

[Grik Doomhammer]

For Grik the brightening passed as the last few. Uneventful. Though this time he was able to have a much more decent rest. The horse foraged for grasses further away and was still able to keep watch. Sleeping on ones feet was a skill that the mounts had, that the orcs did not. A good skill for one keeping watch, and with his mount he was able to sleep and to have another keep watch.

Waking, feeling much more rested the young orc broke camp. The suns of Taleth were once more falling upon the lands, and Grik stuffed the last of his daily ration in his mouth as he mounted his horse. 'Go, gitin close, go...' he yelled. He kicked the horse into action and rode hard. They were on the third brightening of travel, and before sunsrise they should be at thier destination.

Though it was a fast paced ride, the only excitement the tider and mount found was when Grik chased the horse around with an old dagger. Threatening to cut its long tail off.

The stars twinkled as Grik rode, the lights of the random traveler speed past him as he rode. He could smell the cooked meats, and knew he could easily stop and take what he wanted. But he had a job, he was no longer a memebr of a scavaging mob. He was a Lughorn in the Great Horde of Orckon, ready to play his part in the pread of the Orcish Plague across Sharadine.

With the first rays of the suns against his back he saw the first fortifications. He was riding hard and he slowed a bit as the first watchtower came into view. The still darkened sky did not hide from the orc the creatures atop the stone structures, in which he grinned. This would be if first battle front. Here he would call upon his god and have the shara run from his blade...

This would be the start of something the Empire would not soon forget!