Gun'drash the Relentless

Gun'drash lies in the pit with water Morwark dug for him. Staring at the sky, it is a peaceful night, the aftermath of a long, bloody siege to reclaim their home.

His skin is burning, the few patches he still has on his body, the very few that haven't burned, exposing muscle and bone. He had been there since the last battle, thankful of being alive, even if that means his life is worse than death itself.

With the last rays of a dying sun, a shadow appears coming from the War Halls, someone Gun'drash knows very well. Like every day since the battle, the Chieftess checks on him, to see if he's still breathing, to see... if he needs anything.

But to her surprise, he's singing.

An old song about a blacksmith, about a warrior.

"How are you, Chief?" The conversation went on, the chill soothing breeze of Ashenvale helping the orcs to keep a good mood despite the pain and their loss.

Chieftess Myr takes the skull that hangs from her belt and puts it on. "I have seen you... basically since you joined. To me, you're the person who stood in this clan for the longest time.

You proved yourself over and over and never gave up despite all kind of enemies and difficulties that have been thrown at our face.

And I never expected to have such an honor like this one."

She stands in front of him, his eyes wide open as he can't do anything else but wait, and listen. Takes a brief pause before speaking again.

"For fighting, living and almost dying for the clan, you've just earn--"

"Bullshit!" He screamed at the top of his lungs. "Let's do this properly!"

Slowly, he rolls to the side, groaning, panting until he grabs the side of the pit where he lies. She looks at him attempting to get up and while her first reaction would be to stop it, deep down she knows how important this would be for him, so she folds her arms and let him do it.

He pulls half of his body out of the pit, crying in pain as the edges get in contact with his burned, bare flesh, but it doesn't stop him.

He pushes one leg forward, grunting, yelping and finally the other.

Kneeling down, still with tears of pain running down his cheeks, he struggles to his feet "By the ancestors... We will do this.. properly!"

He looked forward to her "I ask it, Chief... Please. Say it. Again."

She returns her gaze to his face and snorts, considering the huge effort he just made and impressed by it, she stares with many thoughts in mind, but it's something she can't deny.

She clears her throat. " I never expected to have such an honor. But life played this way. For fighting with this clan for so long, for standing with every one of our members, raising your shield for them over and over no matter their rank or the dangers. For living for the Ironwolf and risking your own life for the forge. You have earned your name, Gun'drash Moltenhide.

Now recover. And live to tell."

She salutes, bringing a fist to her heart and keeping it longer than usual, before he gets back to the pit. "I would not have been an Orc if I didn't stand by myself".