The smell of sawdust and freshly cut wood was rife in the air, the gentle breeze blowing through the window. The light afternoon sun shone directly into Karitar’s face as she gently stirred from her slumber. She stretched and yawned lightly, the afternoon nap had done her the world of good.
With a smile she hopped out of bed and mad her way to the kitchens of Kargathia keep.
As she descended the stairs she could hear the muffled sound of voices coming from one of the deep oak conference rooms. She stopped. Curiosity got the better of her as she quietly creped up to the doors which were ever so slightly ajar.
Her brothers sat within. But not alone.
Gruttas and Cato, the clan’s diplomats sat around the table too. Gruttas sat straight, a cold serious look on his face. Cato lent back in his chair, his feet on the table and his usual grin on his face.
Then there were the strange ones, they were Orcs but not Warsongs. They wore blue and white furs and heavy travelling cloaks and massive weapons. There were three of them, the larger of the two wielding the massive weaponry, the second spoke to Speatus, who sat at the end of the table.
“These are the orders given to us by the Warchief and we as a clan intent to follow them without question. He does not wish situations like this to start open warfare.”
Karitar silently watched and listened from behind the door.
Speatus lend forward and placed his fist onto the table, his sharp fingernails digging into his hands.
“I have received orders, it is true. But I have not been told to relinquish all attacks on our elven enemy, ambassador.”
Speatus and the frostwolf ambassador’s eyes locked.
“We have moved to a more defensive strategy in the alterac valley, Speatus. And I am sure general Drek’thar would expect you to do the same.”
Speatus snorted and looked at Cato, both had mocking smiles.
“Is it not true that you attacked an alliance supply convoy two days ago in deep alliance territory?” Cato asked, not looking at the ambassador, his gaze directed out one of the stone windows.
“No.” The ambassador lied.
Speatus smiled.
“From the evidence that has been gathered, it seems you certainly did.”
The Ambasitor shuffled his feet nervously and Karitar lent closer into the room to get a better view.
“What does that matter? It was just a grain shipment to the outer Dwarven colonies. Not a frontal attack on an alliance settlement like you Warsong are so fond of.
But moving back to the point, General Drek’thar wishes you to know that he respects your clan and…”
The ambassador was interrupted by Speatus.
“Bah! He has no respect for me, ambassador, and you know that. I do not hold the same rank as him and as a result he deems me unworthy to deal with personally. I take that as an insult. Where is your general now?” Speatus asked.
The ambassador hesitated, a confused look on his face.
“In Lordaeron…” he said.
“In Lordaeron indeed. Getting fat on his profits and lounging around in his fortress.” Speatus mocked.
The ambassador’s eyes flared with anger and he stood up and slammed his fist on the oak table.
Karitar shifted nervously as she peered around the corner.
“I came here with the hope of a civil discussion with you gentlemen but I should have known better that to link civil and Warsong in the same sentence, or any other virtue for that matter.”
“Do not insult me.” Speatus growled with warning as his fist clenched.
The Frostwolf ambassador continued…
“Even your old leader was a mindless fool that nearly corrupted us all for a second time, if he had…”
Like lightning Speatus wrapped his large muscular finger around the axe handle lying next to his seat and swung in hard with a roar. It embedded itself into the top of the thick oak table and gave the ambassador a fight, stopping him in mid sentence. The Frostwolf bodyguards drew their axes from their backs and in an instant everyone in the room had weapons in their hands, except Cato, who continued to grin at the situation.
Karitar flinched nearly overcome with panic.
Speatus roared.
“Get out of my Keep, pup! Before I have you removed!”
“You are not worthy of your position, Speatus. Just a Drek’thar said. You are weak and I should cut you down where you stand now.”
The ambassador lifted his axe and moved towards Speatus, the Grunts on guard rushed to help but were too late as the towering frame of Krusg Crimsonblade stepped between the two Orcs. Speatus showed no emotion, his eyes still burning with fury.
“Then Krusg crush you like an elf woman, Frostwolf.” His deep voice rumbled.
The ambassador looked up at the colossal Orc that was nearly two feet taller than him and took a step back.
Karitar was rushed with panic and emotion, she rushed into the room, tears streaming from her eyes.
“Stop it! Stop it! All off you!”
All attention was drawn to the light feminine frame of the weeping Karitar who now stood in the middle of the room.
The Frostwolf ambassador let out a howling laugh and looked to Speatus.
“Is this the captain of your guard, Crimsonwolf?”
Speatus said nothing his burning gaze flaring larger and larger by the minute.
The ambassador nodded at his two bodyguards and turned to leave the room.
“You have your orders, Crimsonwolf. Follow them wisely.”
He said as he left the room, four Warsong grunts rushed out the room to escort the ambassador out of the keep.
Speatus’s gaze moved to Karitar, and unfortunately all his rage too.
“What are you doing in here, pup!” he roared in anger.
Karitar burst into tears once more, almost shaking.
“I.. I though..”
“Go back to your quarters! And GET OUT of my sight!” He screamed, he pointed a strong finger at herm his axe still in his right hand.
The low rumble of the voice of Krusg could be heard, he said calmly.
“It no her fault, Speatus.”
“Infact..” Speatus continued, ignoring Krusg, as he moved closer to Karitar. “I sometime think you are JUST like your mother!”
The words were like daggers sticking into Karitar’s chest. She had always been sheltered from Speatus’s rage and up to now had only ever heard of it from the grunt veterans that fought with him in the war. Now she was experiencing it first hand, she screamed.
“I hate you! I hate you all! I hate being a Warsong!”
She turned and fled, running up the stairs sobbing like a child, she slammed the oak door and jumped face down into her bed weeping into her bedding. For the first time in her life, she felt pure rage…
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