A Thorren Scene

Thorren stared down onto the plains, shifting slightly as the winds sweeping down from the north buffeted his muscular frame.  He breathed shallowly, eyes searching.  It had been years since he last patrolled Thunder Bluff this way, years since the Cataclysm had roused him from the complacence of never straying from Mulgore, following the duty his family had performed for generations as the defenders of the wandering Tauren tribes.  His grandfather, Enroc, first of the Bluffwatch name, had watched for Centaur marauders and Quillboar.  His mother, Deshra, had fought Centaur and followed Cairne when the High Cheiftan joined the Horde, speaking powerfully against Grimtotem detractors who decried the Tauren’s interactions with other races.  Thorren honored them.  But his duty had called him away from the bluffs.

Thorren spied the lioness a few moments before it sprung upon the zhevra.  The equine beast cried out in fear, but it was already too late.  Thorren’s eyes tracked on.  To the west of them, a kodo train marched toward the outpost, shaking the earth.  In the past, the Alliance would raid these trains in the name of self-defense against the Horde.  Today, though, Thorren feared no Alliance hand.  The humans were occupied, he’d heard, with a Naga incursion in Night Elf lands.  No, today he searched for Taurens.

The thought boiled within him.  He’d been away from Thunder Bluff when Garrosh fought the mak’gora against Cairne, delivering messages to Camp Narache.  Away when the Grimtotem betrayed their people, perpetrating their heinous bloodlust against their own homeland.  Away when Baine, son of Cairne, was driven from Thunder Bluff and many of Thorren’s fellow shamans perished beneath Grimtotem blades.  Away when Thunder Bluff was retaken.  Away when his mother was killed for trusting Orcs, Trolls, and Elves.  Thorren snorted in fury.

The Grimtotem have much to answer for.

He glanced over his shoulder at his compatriots.  “They may have abandoned the plan.  I don’t see them anywhere.”

The female Troll shaman ostensibly leading the group nodded.  “We look elsewhere den.”

Thorren nodded back, shifting his grip on his clawed weapons in frustration.  He shot a final look down to the field, noting the progress of the kudos, before turning to follow his friends down the rise.  Another day.

A Leander Scene

Leander stared at the dusky valley below, counting the moments between bursts of gunfire-wrought light which marked engagements between rival forces like the moments between lightning and thunder.  It was actually much the same principle; he could tell the flow of the battle by those flashes.  The seconds between flashes told him how certain of the enemy’s position the combatants were; the faster they came and the longer they lasted, the more likely it was that the two sides knew exactly where one another were.  Similarly, the movement of the flashes in those seconds told him which side was pressing forward and where.  The forces moving northeast to southwest were driving forward.  Those were the troops of the rebel faction that had sprung up in this countryside.  Rebels only because they were too numerous and organized to be called “bandits.”  They’d razed an entire town two days past when they found it too poor for their tastes.

In a moment, Leander would lead his troops down into the fray, joining the policing force sent by the regional government.  But he waited now, watching the flashes.  Behind and to his left, one of the men shifted.  Leander guessed it was Ivers, ostensibly second in command here, but still new to the position and unused to the men leaning on his direction.  Lee shook his head and muttered, “Take a breath, Terry.  Give it another moment.  I know it looks like our side is being routed, but give it a minute.  They’re not breaking; they’re pulling back to that ridge on the far side of the treeline.  They’ll put a stand together there and we’ll come down the hill.  The rebels will be caught between us.  We’ll cut their avenue of retreat first, then sweep in.”

“Are… Are you sure, Lee?” gulped Ivers, clearly not calmed by Leander’s plan.

“No.  I can’t be.  They could push to the hill faster than we expect.  A segment of the police force could break and run too soon.  They could have a rear guard that I can’t see from here.  Or reinforcements pushing in that we hadn’t been told were inbound.  No plan is certain.  No plan is perfect.  But this is what I see from here.  And this is what we’re going to move forward with it.  If something changes, we’ll have to change with it.  Tally off a third of our force.  You’ll push to the northwest, swing around and come back in.  You’ll be our reserve force in case of a surprise.”

Leander finally looked back over his shoulder at Ivers, lifting the M16 he’d had before his waist.  The other man still looked nervous but nodded.  Lee ran the costs in his head, adjusting already the calculations he’d made while staring down at the battlefield.  A taste of command in a low pressure situation.  That might help him settle a bit.  And those numbers won’t press away my theoretical advantage, but might save me if their reinforcements do arrive.  If none come, he’ll be with me before things get really hot.  Worth the risk.

Nodding to himself more than to Ivers, Leander raised a handheld red-LED light to signal the nearby troopers.  Two quick flashes and Ivers moved off to gather his third of the men.  Lee turned on his heel and strode to the point where the slope down toward the valley intensified.  Without looking back to see if he was followed he started down, picking up pace as he loped into battle.