NakhuKhan

Tales of Nakhu (Prelude - Part 2)

Warleader Nakrosh  rode at the head of the hunting party as it returned homeward laden with meat. There was a slight smile upon his face that belied his fierce reputation as a taker of lives. He was a simple orc who found contentment in simple things and while his warband was small, this suited him just fine. He had no desire to command hundreds of warriors or dabble in clan politics. It was enough for him that his reputation as a warrior had garnered him great respect among the Warsong Clan and  that his followers and their families thrived. Truly the Ancestors smiled upon him.

Sure, over the last couple months his warband had suffered some ill luck. First, he and his mate, Yesui, had nearly been crushed by a freak rock slide as they rode in the hills west of the Throne of Elements. Then, inexplicably, poison mushrooms had found their way into a stew destined for his mate's dinner. Sadly, a small child had sneaked a taste before it was served, but the young one's death had saved Yesui and the child growing in her belly, so even in this cruel accident Nakrosh saw the favor of the Ancestors. 

As his thoughts turned to his Yesui, Nakrosh's smile widened, as he saw himself especially favored by the Ancestors in regards to his mate. By rights she should never have been his, as he was but a warleader of middling importance, at best, with a few dozen wolfriders at his disposal, while she was the only child of an important sub-chieftain. Her father, in fact, had arranged a union between her and the clan chieftain's favored nephew, Guyuk, but to Dokholkhu's chagrin, Yesui had refused, insisting she would not take as her mate any orc who could not best her in battle, deeming any orc unable to do so unworthy to share her sleeping furs.

Further thoughts of his mate were interrupted as Nakrosh caught sight of an approaching rider, moving swift and pushing his mount hard, heedless of the danger to either himself or his wolf. Several times Nakrosh saw the rider use the flat of his blade to push his wolf to even greater speeds. 

 As the rider drew closer,  Nakrosh took note of the wolf's bloody flanks. Scowling in disapproval, Nakrosh addressed the rider. "I take it your news must be of great importance to treat your mount in this fashion."

The messenger, nodded. "Grievous news, Warleader,...an assassin...our camp," croaked the messenger, his voice hoarse and his breath ragged. 

Tossing the messenger a waterskin, Nakrosh waited impatiently as the messenger gulped the water greedily. After several seconds, which seemed to stretch into eternity for Nakrosh, the messenger had sated his thirst and his breath came easier.

"Tell me everything," Nakrosh ordered.