Honor, Oath, & Blood

Chapter 2

Sleep surrounded by orcs had been fitful at best, though that wasn't different from most other nights for Gylledra. The orcs had piqued her interest and so she had stared at the stars for most of the night wondering about them. Where had they come from? How did they get here? What was their previous involvement with the Legion? Before the Sundering, aside from that one stray orc, there had been no orcs in Kalimdor. She could only imagine the outrage and disgust Azshara would have had for a people like that. Knowing what little about them as she did, Gylledra liked them better already, if for no other reason than that mad bitch would have hated them.

Since they were strangers, Thrall had revealed almost nothing about his people or their predicament to Gylledra and Nasorya. It would have been more surprising if he had. She could only surmise from what she was told that it was most likely the humans that sought to eradicate the orcs because of something that had happened. They bore all the signs of a suppressed people existing under the crushing weight of their own past, which was tainted with demon blood. Judging by the maps she had, it seemed their best course of action would be to find a way to cross the sea to another distant continent that little was known about. Gylledra's next question was how would they accomplish that? There were a lot of orcs.

-----

In the morning, it was clear that Varok Saurfang was saddled with keeping an eye on the guests. He was preferable to some of the other more axe-happy looking individuals who eyed them with even greater suspicion. The way the other orcs deferred and obeyed the veteran orc made it obvious that he was revered by his people. Perhaps that was the reason he was stuck with Gylledra and Nasorya, the orcs wouldn't dare disobey such a commander.

Everyone rose before dawn, shuffling around bleary-eyed, getting rid of the evidence of fires and covering their tracks. It was a feat to disguise the path of that many orcs, but they managed it well enough before they were on the move again. Scouts went ahead to ensure they wouldn't be crossing paths with any enemies, humans in particular.

The flavorless gruel they'd inhaled as breakfast sat like a stone in Gylledra's stomach as she walked beside her chaperone. There were no sounds besides the footsteps on dirt, plate armor making contact with more plate, and the creak of leather straps. How many such marches had Gylledra been in like this? How many faces of soldiers and people fearing for their lives as they trudged to get away from imminent danger had she seen? She could not count them all if she tried; after so long they all blended together. Such was a life of warring.

"It is a solemn march to yet another kind of war." Saurfang rumbled. Gylledra's head whipped around, taken aback and she stared at him wide eyed. It was as though he'd pulled the thought from her mind. "What?" The question came with a frown.

"I was thinking nearly the same thing." She replied and cleared her throat quietly, eyes forward again. "I cannot count the warbands I have marched in."

"Nor I." He agreed. "We are making our way to what feels like another new world, though at least this time there is no portal...but the sea, I suppose." Gylledra noted the good opportunity to broach her own questions.

"Where were you born?" The question was simple curiosity, truly.

"Do you really want to know?" Saurfang looked down at Gylledra, arching one brow; he hadn't expected her to have any such interest.

"I wouldn't have asked if I didn't want to know. And, I lack the subtlety to trick you into telling me anything." Her comment elicited a snort of amusement from him. So, he was not made of stone after all.

"Where orcs come from or where I come from? They are different conversations." His gaze was back on the road ahead of them and while her intent had been to learn about the orcs in general, she decided instead to learn about him.