The axe crashed down at Thorren, but he was ready, clawed gauntlets already in place to deflect the blow. It was rare something towered over Thorren’s 9-foot-tall frame, but this Iron Vrykul managed it. Despite the defeat of the Lich King, some years before Thorren’s departure from Thunder Bluff, the Vrykul remained hostile to the non-Vrykul races. This one had pushed into Horde territory near Warsong Hold, far from the usual haunts of the Vrykul.
The Vrykul leapt back as Thorren swung at its gut, seeking to tear into the half-giant’s midsection and end the fight. Thorren had been in Northrend at an elder Shaman’s request, journeying with a message to the Taunka tribes of the frozen north. The Vrykul pushed forward again, snarling rage at the “fleshy cow!”
Thorren laughed in its face as the half-giant’s spittle flecked onto him. “I’m no cow, servant of death, I’m a bull!”
With a mighty shake of his head, Thorren raked his horns across the Vrykul’s face, driving the half-giant back. It howled in fury and raised a hand to grasp at the rent across his face. It swung blindly with its axe, trying vainly to hit the Tauren, but Thorren had shoved back. Muttering briefly, he raised a fist to the sky and let a bit of blessed powder loose into the crisp air of the Borean Tundra. At his side, a pair of spectral wolves sprung into view, howling their master’s fury. As the Vrykul recovered, the wolves darted forward, sprinting around and biting at its flanks.
Thorn dropped back a step and felt out toward the elements around him. He drew upon the electricity of the storms that raged throughout the north. Pausing for thanks to the spirits of the elements, he drew back a hand and pushed it forward with explosive force, lightning leaping from his claw and arcing towards the metal body of the Iron Vrykul. Between the assault of the wolves and the lightning, the half-giant crumpled. Thorren stepped forward anew, the wolves prowling in search of a further threat, and searched the Vrykul. Nothing showed why it had come so far, but if it had slipped past the Taunka, it concerned Thorren. He was sent to rally Taunka allies in the face of Garrosh’s corruption of the Horde. If they’d befallen dangers or been abandoned by Garrosh’s forces and fallen to the Vrykul it would be a mighty blow against the power base being gathered by Baine Bloodhoof, young High Chieftan of the Tauren.
Thorren scowled at the thought and called out to his mount, a large and heavily armored wind rider. It bounded close and stood still as Thorren climbed astride it. With a word, the wind rider leapt to the skies and Thorren set out seeking the Taunka.