Mairla Greatforge

Second Note: Looking for roleplay and roleplay contacts!

Mairla blinked, taking in the sight before her, she couldn’t make out what land she was in, but the two moons of Azeroth were visible in the morning sky. She blinked again, focusing on her surroundings before realizing she was on a small cliff overlooking a war torn battlefield in her armor, Honorguard slung across her back. She gasped at the sight, despite the distance it was clear as day to her, she could even make out the groans of the dying. Bodies of orcs, taurens, trolls and other the races of the Horde were intermingled with the bodies of dwarves and gnomes. Battered standards of both Ironforge and the Horde littered the ground, but her mouth went dry when she recognized the banners of the Greatforge Clan among them, her clan, but try as she might she could not leave the peak nor recall the scene from her father’s stories. “What madness is this!?” She cried out, her body refusing to obey her commands as war horns blared, drums pounding as a massive army emerged from the opposite side of the valley. It wasn’t there before, yet now stood a mighty Horde fortress stretching across the valley’s length, its blackened steel ramparts emphasized by the light of hundreds of braziers as Horde banners waved proudly. Taking in the sight, she glanced down only to realize there was now a war camp directly below her marked with the blue of the Alliance, emptying as the remaining dwarves, gnomes, and even the odd human mercenary, exited the camp, taking up positions along the valley floor. Most of the force was dwarven, and at it’s head she spotted her father, his condition broke her heart for his armor, an ancient heirloom from a distant ancestor was rent and broken. Mairla could see the bloodstained bandages beneath it, but neither could she see a trace of fear on her father’s face, no, Zulatobari Greatforge’s face was one of fury, his graying orange beard swaying in the wind, and his voice was as clear as day to Mairla. “COME ME BROTHERS AND SISTERS! LET US TAKE AS MANY O’ THESE BASTARDS WITH US AS WE CAN! FER THE ALLIANCE! FER KHAZ MODAN! FER MAIRLA!.. CHAAAAAAAAAAARGE!!!” Zulatobari lowered Bitter’Ice as he, and the rest of his troops began charging across the field towards the Horde forces as storms gathered overhead. Mairla was utterly confused by her father’s words, where were they? Why are they fighting? Why did he scream her name? These questions swirled through her thoughts before the clash of battle snapped her back to the battle at hand, fearful her eyes locked again on her father. Bitter’Ice, the oldest and most powerful heirloom of the Greatforge Clan, an ancient two handed greataxe created by Zulbar Greatforge himself, the very founder of the clan, glowed brightly blue as it cleaved through armor, flesh, and bone in deadly arcs as Zulatobari raged through the Horde’s lines. Mairla glanced away from him as cheers erupted along the dwarven throng, she could even make out the shriller voices of gnomes and humans as her father’s troops followed in his example, throwing themselves with renewed vigor against their foes despite the overwhelming odds laid out before them. Hammer and axe clashed against savagery and brutality as both sides suffered immense casualties. “NO!” Mairla cried, tears flowing freely as her gaze was ripped back to her father as he cried out in pain when a tauren slammed him across the back with its totem, sending him flying back before crumpling to the ground. He was separated from his troops, and with a shout Mairla could not make out he leaped up, throwing Bitter’Ice at the tauren. His aim was true, and the axe’s magic easily sheared through the bovine’s throat, decapitating it in a single toss as Zulatobari turned, sending an armored gauntlet into an orc’s stomach, headbutting the orc as he doubled over. He roared in pain again as a troll sunk a long, wicked blade into a weakened part of his armor. Zulatobari could only grit his teeth as he punched down on the blade, snapping it off before the troll could pull it out. Without a moment’s hesitation, he lashed out another fist at the troll’s slouched head, shattering his tusk’s as the troll backed off, clutching his face in agony as Zulatobari earned a temporary respite. The tide had turned against her father’s remaining troops, and Mairla continued to watch as the Horde forces formed a shield wall around her father, creating a barrier of shields as a war chant began to erupt from their throats. “MOZ-FEL! FOR THE HORDE! MOZ-FEL!” Mairla didn’t know a lick of orcish, but she figured it was a name along with the altogether familiar warcry of the Horde, and indeed, for as she looked towards the fortress a heavily armored orc atop a worg began to approach the battle, riding quickly alongside him was a small group of wolf riders. When she glanced back at her father, he had already retrieved his axe, Bitter’Ice’s ancient magic having sent the axe flying back to Zulatobari, it’s return arc decapitating one of the orcs. But that orc was replaced, and the Horde’s backlines parted as Mozfel approached, and her father seemed to have heard the same as he was now staring off towards the towering orc. The troops around him content to keep him contained as the remaining Alliance troops slowly but surely lost their lives. “FIGHT ON! DIE WITH HONOR AND GLORY!” Zulatobari roared as he raised his legendary axe, unleashing the magic within it in the form of an explosion of frost, erupting around the dwarven thane as it froze solid his shielded before charging forward through two of them, the unlucky orcs shattering into pieces as Zula began cleaving his way to the commander. Hope swelled in Mairla from the display, but it was replaced by a dreadful fear as her father narrowly dodged a vicious axe swing aimed to remove his head from his shoulders as Bitter’Ice disemboweled the worg from beneath Mozfel, sending him sprawling. “YOU KILL CARNAGE! YOU DIE!” The orc warlord screamed, rolling away from an earthshattering blow from Bitter’Ice, the axeblade freezing the ground around it as Zulatobari pulled his weapon from the earth. Mozfel stood before her father could strike again, brandishing his two axes towards the bloodied dwarf, their edges igniting with fire. Zulatobari’s face had grown paler, the blade stuck in his side and other injuries taking their toll on him as he glared at the orc with stubborn defiance in his eyes. The two met in a clash of fire and ice as Mairla witnessed every blow the two traded, every jarring parry as her father proved, in his wounded condition, an equal match for the berserker in matters of strength and skill, but even she could see he was losing slowly, and it killed her on the inside to know she couldn’t help. And she screamed when the orc scored a telling blow, an axe cutting cleanly through her father’s breastplate, heating the metal as the blade opened Zulatobari’s chest, searing the wound close as it passed, forcing the thane to one knee as he breathed deeply. Bitter’Ice falling from his grasp as he looked down in pain, defeated. “AHAH! NOW YOU DIE STUNTY!” Mozfel roared as he brought both axes down as Zulatobari rose, turning to stone and stepping beneath the orc’s blow to deliver a hammer blow of a punch to Mozfel’s gut, knocking the wind out of him. But as he reached up, getting a grip on the orc’s head with both his hands, Mairla gasped in horror as the two fiery axes of Mozfel slinked into her father’s stony backside, a lethal blow. However, Zulatobari was never a dwarf to accept defeat, and with a final shout he snapped Mozfel’s neck and stumbled back, calling Bitter’Ice to his hand as the stone began flacking off his form, shrinking in size as he roared one last time. “BE AVENGED…” He stopped, interrupted as he finally turned back to normal and almost immediately began coughing up blood, and while he only whispered it, Mairla could hear every word he spoke as he sunk Bitter’Ice into the ground, sitting against it as the shell-shocked Horde soldiers got ahold of themselves and advanced on the dying dwarf. “My daughter… sister… m-my valiant troops…” He coughed once more, all the life leaving his eyes as he stared directly at Mairla, his head leaning against the pommel of his axe. And then time suddenly sped forward, the few pockets of resistance were slaughtered as the Horde claimed the valley, and maybe in respect for Zulatobari, or from an inability to remove his great axe, Bitter’Ice was left in the field, the earth frozen for several yards in all directions from the weapon with her father’s helmet left atop it. As Mairla fell to her knees, she realized she could control her movements again and wiped her face of tears, sobbing as she looked to the sky. “WHY!? WHY WOULD YE SHOW ME THIS!?” She screeched as darkness began enveloping her vision, before all was black, and she suddenly awoke in her bedchambers, screaming in a mixture of pain and despair as she sat up immediately, stopping, she got out of bed hastily, dressed not in her armor but in her nightgown, her battle gear still resting nearby. “MAIRLA!?” A cry came distantly as her father soon opened the door, alive, uninjured, and rather frightened looking as he held Bitter’Ice in one hand, his beard unkempt from sleep and his form lacking the armor he wore in her dream. “What’s wrong lass?” He asked, concern quickly replacing fear as Mairla began crying, rushing forward to embrace her father in a tight hug before speaking. “I… I had the dream again father…” She stopped to sob into his shoulder as he reassuringly patted her on the back. “I’m right here... and I’m nae going anywhere anytime soon.” Zulatobari reassured his daughter, dropping his axe to return the hug.

This might need updats? I don’t recall...