Borka had come to realize that Madrak must have duped him into going after the old stone, he would have to give old Ironhide more credit next time they got in a fight. He couldn't complain of course, it had been eventful to say the least. Borka had seen a handful of casters with small contingints of Warjacks or Beasts.
Madrak must have known Borka would get the action he so clearly craved...
"That pale skinned, cursed Troll is becoming as wiley as an elder shaman... I'll have to buy him a drink," Borka said to the Pyg next to him who was once again bathing in the beer he was supposed to be carrying. At least Borka got to bring his favorite Impaler Gug, but the Mauler and Slag Troll belonged to Madrak and it seemed they were two of the dumbest Trolls he had ever had the opportunity to drink with.
His opinion was fast changing of those two though. His first direct encounter was with a Warwitch from Cryx, and though Gug had a spectacular shot taking out the witch's Jack that she used to bounce spells at him, he had nearly paid for it with his life at the hands of one of those wretched mechanical worms. Borka's rage and greif at losing Gug was short lived though as the Slag Troll of his own initiative walked right up to the worm and broke it clean in half. Borka saw the Cryxian whore smile and wished he was close enough to smash her head in with Trauma. Briefly remembering something Madrak said about flying lessons must have gone accross his bond to the Mauler who promtly picked up Borka and sent him sailing in her direction. Laughing at his sudden turn of fortune Borka caved in her skull. He turned to see the Pyg handing some food to Gug nursing a beer, his bond to Borka reappaering, "Good idea Gug, I'll have one too."
No sooner had the Pyg sat back down to bathe in Borka's beer then they heard the growling of Ravagers. Drinking down the last few drops he used his link to tell his beasts to group up as the Seraph began hitting them with its Blight Strike. "Gug that Carnivean is too far away," Borka said, but Gug just looked down the shaft of his spear and bent it a little before sticking it Roman style into the Carni sending it flying back. The Mauler jumped in front of Borka without hesitation taking the first few hits from the Ravagers and prepared to catch the Canivean. Feeling the Rage of the Mauler seep through the bond and his courage bouyant from the aid of the Pyg, Borka looked over at the Slag Troll, it nodded and lifted Borka off the ground. Borka rolled to his feet and in one motion charged past a Ravager and bringing Trauma to bear against what looked to be Ogrun... or at least it used to be. Even dazed from bearing the brunt of the attack the twisted Ogrun nearly made Borka pay the price for not finishing him when he had the chance... but Troll Blood is tougher than others. One more swing put the ugly Ogrun down for good.
Celebrating not one, but two victories this day Borka drank to his good fortune and vowed once again that he owed Madrak a drink for getting him the fights he'd been looking for. "Get out of my beer you stinking Pyg and pour me another drink," Borka chuckled, this Keg Carrier was unique and had lived longer than most of his Keg Carriers of past battles. After a few hours of rest and heavy drinking a sharp warning came accross the bond from Gug, his excitement at the prospect of more Ravager meat for dinner was clear.
Borka's roar was barely distinguishable from that of the Mauler as he welcomed the sight of more Everblight fools, this time a competent looking female standing over the remains of a heavily armored Cynarian.
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