Blood In The Sand

“You can’t do this!” A dissident exclaimed. “Hellscream goes to far!” Shoutted another. Before long a riot had broken out, all manner of individuals swarming on the Orcish executioner, another moving to stand between him and the Troll bound against the wall, awaiting execution. Anetho shook his head and pushed his way through the crowd, armored robes clinking and rattling with his every step. The metallic Horde insignias hanging from his pauldrons slapping against his chest. He felt more like a warrior than a Magister in this moment as he neared the Troll. Likely mistaken as one of the individuals in favor of sparing him, the Forsaken that served as his barrier nodded at him, before looking back to the Orc marksman practically engulfed in a stampede of angry objectors. The Kor’Kron were closing in, shoutting from afar. Anetho steeled himself, knowing far worse would transpire if he did not act. His right hand blazed in fire as he whipped a firebolt at nearly point blank range; completely ripping it’s way through the Darkspear sympathizer’s midsection. Blood coated the sands, as the crowd fell into silence. The Red Magister turned to address them, his voice firm and echoing leagues beyond the Valley of Honor.

“This is the fate of all cowards, dissidents, and traitorous vermin that would eat our Horde from within! This is the fate of all those who would oppose Hellscream’s rule! His word is law, his orders final! Now disperse with the lot of you! Before you join him in a coward’s death, devoid of burial or last rites. A dishonorable fate, for dishonorable rats!”

He caught the eye of a Forsaken, even in death he still conveyed emotions of dissapointment. “You dishonor your people… and my own… to be a part of this collection.” He shook his head, and disapeared with the masses wandering off, leaving Anetho to ponder the weight of his choices.

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~ by anethodawnpride on May 30, 2013.

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