Dishonorable discharge

Exact OOC name: Liam
Full IC name: Sgt Major Gromril Rockstrider
Race & gender:Dwarf Male
IRL age & gender:19 Male
IRL nationality:UK
Current server: Karazhan
Character background:

"Sergent, message from Theramore!"
Gromril didn't initially react, his large almost unworldly rifle mounted, to the messangers disgust, on the corpse of a taurn brave. He was staring down the scope very intently. He gently squeezed the trigger, the rifle kicking into his shulder, a strange green flash eminating from the muzzle. The slug pounded into the chest of a Tauren female, who had been attempting to drag her stricken mate from the firing line. The dwarf grunted his satisfaction and turned to the clearly irate man on horseback, seemingly oblivious to his unit killing the wounded and burning the caravan under the harsh barren's sun. Vultures were already circling. The smeel of seared flesh and smoke choked the air.

"Get offa tha' beast lad. Ah hate talkin ta nostrils". amazingly, he could bark out a sentance and still sound weary. The messanger hesitated. This dwarf had a reputation of fiercness. He had heard it said that where he pissed the grass would never grow. He carfully dismounted, and the man began to relay his message.

"You are to cease this incursion and return Theramore port at once. The murder of inocents is not to be tolerated"

The Dwarf grunted. "Oh aye? Well ah dune think that will work at all. Yer see, this were a food shipment. Tha' food genrall ends up with them there warsongs to tha' north. Now, I dun'e be a fan of them pansy elves, but enemies are enemies and ah a damned sure tha' them orcs are the enemy."

The messenger sighed, but then something caught his eye. A wounded tauren was tryng to crawl away. it was cradling a bundle. The dwarf followed his gaze. Turning, he strode up, drawing a long serated knife. He plunged the blade into the back of the wounded taurens head. Then he did the same to the bundle.

"For Gods sake, your killing infants!" cried the Messanger as he fought the urge to throw up.

In seconds, the dwarf had returned and landed a punch into the messanger. As he doubled over, the dwarf grabbed this tabbard and drew his face level.

"Now ye listen yer lil streak o' piss. Ah dune care what lil books ye may av read, but that 'infant' was nought but a wee lil enemy. Now ye go back and tell em ah need support for a whole damned village full o' them. you do it now". the whole sentance came out in a scream, making the mans eyes water.

Four months later, Gromril lay amidst several corpses. His unit had been destroyed without even a court marshal. He doubted anyone back in stormwind would hear of this. Nobody liked what he did. He was bleeding heavily from a gash in his leg. Men wearing the same tabbard as him had left him for dead. Hate welled up in his stomach. How dare they judge him, the who had never seen the child you spare today become the man you killed tomorow. How dear that peace mongering whore in her towere in Theramore decide that the horde should be treated as more than beasts At that moment, with his life failing him, he swore vengance, on both horde and alliance.

And someone hear him. Someone who could use hate like that.

hehe nice little story I liked it.

Definately accepted, whisper me ingame for an invite and further information.