#rohkan

(by Zeon-in-a-Tree)

Tyran did not like this. Breaking into Stormwind, in broad daylight, and work their way into the Stockades and find some vital political prisoner.

Tyran knew Saurfang was taken in and shackled up, he knew Anduin would treat the High Overlord with respect and would make sure the warrior was comfortable, and taken care of.

Rohkan looked at the locked cell and shook his head, his face paling a little before motioning to Tyran “ You bettah be taking dis ,,” Tyran moved past Thalyssra and Rohkan, and yanks off the simple lock from the thick cell door. Inside on a cot sat Saurfang, The Veteran, the Ancient, the Might of Kalimdor. He wore only a simple leather tunic and linen shorts, his armor nowhere to be seen.

Tyran took off his horned helm, hanging it on his belt as he stepped inside the cell. Rohkan and Thalyssra stood guard by the open door, not truly daring to walk in further.

“You think you are here to take me back to Orgrimmar. Back to the Warchief. You are mistaken.” Saurfang rumbled slowly, not looking over at his long time friend Tyran, his eyes boring holes into the far brick wall of his cell. 

“Varok,,” Tyran began but he was interrupted when his fellow Orc stood up and looked him dead in the eye. “ I have have lost track of the time I have sat in this cell. But it matters not in the end. After all she has done, I will never return to her Horde.” Saurfang growls low, waving an arm in disgust as his mind recalls briefly the horrors and sacrilege during the War of Thorns and the Siege of Lorderon.