Gold is the Color of Blood
- --by Kelgar
- Warning: Slight Adult Content*
It was another hot day in the barrens, the sun was beating down and as usual not even a slight breeze brought any sort of relief. Kelgar sighed as he looked up at the sun, just another day in his life, just another job. Some lazy soldier in crossroads had offered him a nice sum of gold to come out here and deal with a problem of his. Of course centaurs cause problems for a lot of people but this one in particular seemed to be making life around here difficult. Though Kelgar didn’t care about caravan raids, or territorial dispute he did care about the gold he was offered. As the sun continued to beat down Kelgar used the spike on the back of his axe to itch his back. He was pretty big as far as orcs go, standing about 7’3, and like most orcs he was made up almost entirely of muscle. His mail armor was pretty basic as far as armor goes, worn looking but he did his best to keep it in good condition. His eyes were blue, supposed to be some kind of portent, a sign of greatness. Of course it was all a huge load of crap. He scratched the large scar that stretched from his right temple, down to the right side of his jaw. Destiny was a lie for fools, a pretty fairy tale for those that want to be special. Thankfully he wasn’t a fool, at least not anymore.
He looked down from the ridge he had climbed last night and chuckled as the distant dots he had been watching slowly came into focus. Most leaders keep bodyguards, lucky for him centaurs were arrogant bastards, almost as bad as most elves. Kelgar swatted at a fly that was buzzing around his head as he thought about his last trip to Silvermoon. Sure the place was nice and neat, had some pretty good grub as well, and the beds were probably the softest he had ever slept on. But the people were lousy, the women might look good, if a little frail for his tastes but every last elf he met both man and woman had looked down on him. Even the undead in the Undercity had at least treated him with some respect. Thankfully he had managed to get the work done before he started snapping necks. Even a mercenary can’t afford to have the guards after him, especially in a town where folks throw gold around like candy.
Kelgar shook his head as he refocused his highs on the approaching centaur. The haughty ass had stopped at a tent about two hundred feet from the ridge for a drink. Kelgar had to keep himself from laughing as another centaur tried to hand the war leader a cup but ended up tripping over a spear and spilling the water onto the ground. As the war leader began to beat the poor bugger Kelgar double checked the area for other guards and patrols. Of course just like the last time he checked all he saw was empty, hot, dry, space; not a soul other than the war leader and the few centaurs guarding the tent. As he thumbed his axe he began to think about the past. He was a lot younger then; at least it seemed that way now, back when he had sought to serve his war chief, when he had sought to serve his people. But in the end what did he get for fighting for his people? He got a nice long stay in a nice cozy slave mining camp when his leaders failed to deliver on their promises. Of course he had followed Thrall afterwards; he was a good leader, honest and honorable. But as soon as they had landed on Kalimdor the promises were different but still just as tempting as the ones he had heard before. Instead of honor, wealth, and power he was promised land, safety, and liberty. Now he wasn’t the kind of Orc to fall for something twice; so as soon as the demons were driven off he left. As it turns out gold is a far more rewarding master than the War Chief and in the end he was still serving his people, he was just getting paid to do it.
He smiled as he thought of all the jobs he had done in the past years, all the enemies killed, battles fought and the gold, women, and honor they had gotten him. Then he sighed as he looked at the Centaur War Leader as the confident centaur sauntered below him, headed to the next camp. The real pity was that this wasn’t even a battle, wouldn’t get him any fame or honor whatsoever. As the centaur passed under his position Kelgar jumped, axe held high. The centaur had time for one panicked thrust with his spear before Kelgar brought the axe down on his its head. Kelgar sighed as he quickly cleaved the head from the body and put it in a leather sack. Nope, this job was just for gold. Hearing a yell he looked over his shoulder at three stunned centaur that were standing back about a hundred feet. As he watched all three looked at each other and then they backed away and headed back to their tent. Shaking his head Kelgar began the long run back to crossroads, and his payment.
Kelgar grinned as he took a long drink from his mug; he was back in crossroads and enjoying a quick drink before heading to a cot. The soldier had been amazed to see him back so fast, but had been thrilled when Kelgar gave him the bag. It wasn’t much, but 10 gold pieces was enough for some drinks, a few nights somewhere comfortable and if he was lucky maybe he could find someone nice to cuddle up with. He looked at the people gathered in the inn and sighed, lots of people but nothing he would want to spend the night with. With a sudden grin he took another drink, well Silvermoon may be the home of a bunch of rude elves but the town had its definite perks and he was certain he could find an inn and a nice lady to spend time with. With a satisfied belch he finished his drink and headed to a cot, as he laid down he flicked some dried blood off his gauntlet, though in his eyes gold is defiantly the color of blood.