The Wounded Pack

#6 - Dusk

— Trying to remember where it happened? — Dunris asked Naurosh, since the Hunter was constantly staring north.

— I know exactly where it happened — he answered after a long sigh — . I hate to be back, I just hate it.

— Me too... but the Argent Dawn emissaries sounded desperate — Wolfeye stated — . We've been away on Outland for too long, but the Scourge hasn't gone anywhere...

— They claimed there was a new Necropolis, but I don't see anything.

— We weren't able to see Naxxramas in the past either.

— Right. In any case, let's get going. We aren't the same than before, we became stronger, and we won't make the same mistakes. The faster we deal with this, the sooner we'll be gone from this horrid lands.

— We must not underestimate the Scourge, Naurosh. We should be ready for anything, even for Kor...

— Don't say it! Don't you dare say it!

— Denying it won't do us any good!

— Stop! Just stop! We both saw him explode, and that wretched blast of hellfire is the only thing that brings me comfort at night!

Dunris didn't respond. He didn't want to think about that moment either. Years ago, after Korghan's death, they had retaliated and assaulted the Scourge's most powerful bastions there in the Plaguelands. The Plaguewoods, Stratholme and Naxxramas had burned to ash after the heroic advance of the the Argent Dawn forces and its allies. The brothers had their vengeance, but they were certain that it wouldn't be over with the undead. Slowly, one day they would regain their strength.

And that day had allegedly arrived. Dunris and Naurosh hadn't spoken much after their relenteless assault on the Plaguelands. They had mourned in their own ways, traveling to the orcish broken world of Outland after the Burning Crusader reopened the Dark Portal. their paths had crossed many times, and eventually they had returned to their home in the outskirts of Camp Taurajo. It was there where the emissary had reached them, and now they were about to reach Light's Hope Chapel.

— I'm sorry — said Naurosh after a while — . I... would've wanted that he had had the Warrior's death he deserved. He was stronger than you and me, we always knew that.

— What are you talking about? I've never seen someone passing away in such an formidable way — Dunris replied — . He pulverized the Death Knight, the Abominations and everything else around him. Don't you wish to meet your ancestors and tell them that your death was unique and heroic?

The Hunter was about to answer, but instead a terrifying howl echoed through the Plaguelands, so atrocious it pierced their moral and stroke fear in their hearts. It was impossible to fight it, as the horror seemed to destroy their will. The wolves cowered instead of growling, but the orcs managed to reach for their weapons and raise their guard.

— What was that? — Naurosh wondered, holding his spear tight.

— Where did we hear something like that before... — Dunris tried to remember.

— Watch out!

Just in time, the oldest brother threw his spear to a figure that leaped from the trees towards them. He didn't kill it, but he managed to stop it from lunging over the Shaman.

— What the hell is a worgen doing here! — Naurosh complained, reaching for his bow and a couple of arrows.

That was it: worgens. Dunris had heard similar howls when he was traveling through Silverpine Forest, near Shadowfang Keep. They were fierce beasts, but he had never seen them anywhere else. The one that had tried to ambush them stood up and broke Naurosh's spear with unnatural strengths; they could see its eyes shining with a blue glow.