A letter to the Chieftain

[Aroh]

((I was contacted by Rargnahsá of the Orcs of the Red Blade while playing on Whitewing. He asked me to give this message to the Chieftain. Since Grail wasn't in this Sunday's meeting, I felt it best to post it here.
The actual letter is written my Chemukh on WW's behalf.
Sorry Chemchem, I added a bit of my own interpretation. ))

***
A kodo skin hide is nearly soaked in writing ink, making the pompous handwriting jump all over the skin to dodge the ink steins.

To the honorable Chieftain,

I, Whitewing, youngling of the Mistrunner Tribe, wish to inform you, that four days ago I had the great pleasure of receiving a message from a respectable orc by the name of Rargan Rargnasha. He wished for me to deliver this message to You, which I now do with delight.
The honorable Orc in question wished for our Tribe to join him in hunting the mighty beasts of Northerend, in the rugged beauty of Grizzly Hills.

Whit great regret I must admit, I do not know of the exact time of this glorious occasion. This is why I humbly ask You, on behalf of Rag Rargnasha to seek out this Orc for further details of the hunt.


Sincerely yours,
Youngling Whitewing

[Scyepogg]

Scyepogg grumbled something and turned to the other side, now facing the wall, without opening his eyes. He has been lying in this crooky old bed in a small hunt in Camp Taurajo for over a month now, without any power to get up. He felt terribly exhausted mentally and physically, his stomach ached constantly and his muscles felt weak and useless. He could hardly raise an arm. Once a day an old tauren woman brought him a small meal, mostly a light soup and some vegetables, but he couldn't usually eat even that. He did not understand what was happening. It was as if the forces of nature that he always felt inside him suddenly disappeared, and now he was slowly degrading more and more, with last remaining powers leaving him bit by bit. He felt empty, and he felt as if the world was empty. As if it would disappear soon, abd everything dear to him that he still remembered would be gone forever.

Once he heard some loud shouts outside, something about orcs, about hunting, or maybe he was dreaming. In vain he tried to recreate in his memory the great hunt of spring that he led earlier this year. He couldn't feel his memories being real. It felt as if he was thinking of an imaginary story that never happened. He moaned silently again and sunk back into half-consious sleep.

When he, weakening, but still able to walk - or at least sit on a kodo, came back to his old hut here, it was empty. The woman bringing him food told him that the girl has gone desperate and went off to that elven lake in the mountains. To stay there forever, to give herself to the nature. But Scyepogg was too weak to think even of her. He couldn't even focus his conscience on any specific subject, it just kept showing him vague shades of the past.

Sometimes the image of Athara, the Wise Athara, she who knows all and who is all, appeared in his mind again.
"You will be no more, and nothing will be. The world will not be. I will not come. You are no more, I will not see you more."

[Aroh]

((You're scaring me! o.O ))