pt 33 The Elders search

"So how about another flask of port my friend? You still look thirsty, and I'm still buying."

"Har har har!! Eff ey wasunt so drunk eyd be guessin dat yer up to sometin yeu old dawg... har har har... wut did yeu say yer name wus agin?"

"My name is Orkimedes, and I'm not up to anything my friend, I just have never been to Orgrimmar before, and I heard you were the Orc to talk to for information." I say with a wide grin.

"Yar!! dat is dah truef. Evry wone knows dat Sarok is dah best Orc een all of Orgrimmar fer helpin out.. Fer dah rite price dat is. Har har har!!!"

Sarok was as vile as Orcs come. He had none of the proud honor that the Orcs of Nagrand lived and died by. Instead, he seemed to live his life for the next drink.

As if on silent que, the barkeep brought over another bottle of port for Sarok, and a bottle of water disguised as alcohol for me. It's clear that he has seen this game played before.

As the drunken fool swills down the strong brew, I lean in close and whisper to him.

"So Sarak, tell me more about the warlocks that make their home in the Cleft of Shadows here in Orgrimmar."

It's clear by the sudden serious expression on his face that I asked the wrong question. He stares at me for a moment.

"Wut do ya be wantin wif dos Orcs for? Nobudy messes wif dah Or'locks and lives long ta talk about eet." he finally says with a drawn out slur in his voice.

"Oh no my friend" I reply cautiously "You are mistaken. I'm not looking for any trouble with the warlocks."

He continues to stare at me suspiciously for a long moment.

"Listin strangr." he says with a sneer "Eets pretie cleer yer not frum oround eer. Een fact ye talk funne like dose Orcs frum Outland. But, ey wooldunt be askin about stuf dats not yer biznuss. Dem or'locks ar too powerfool ta be mesed wif. Heck, evn Thrall isunt brave enuff ta cross dem. Dats why dey is still allowd in Orgrimmar!"

I shift uncomfortably for a moment. On Draenor the Warlocks held absolute power. Their mastery of demonic energies nearly destroyed my people and my world. I remember the horrific fervor that my clan fell into. That fervor that I nearly lost myself to. That is, until I returned to shamanism and found myself again.

"Rellok!!" Sarok stands up and yells.

From outside the inn a small little Orc child runs in carrying a set of bulging saddle bags. The boy looks beat up and abused. He has scratches and dried blood all over his arms and face. Like he had been fighting.

"Git mah worg ya yusless litul runt." Sarok commands the child as he starts for the door.

"Sarok, wait!" I say "is that child yours?"

The stumbling drunkard turns around like he is expecting a fight.

"Wuts eet ta yu Orki... wutever yer name ees?"

"No, he looks like a fine boy, very strong for his age." I say with smile

"Oh.. naw ea aint mah kid. Ea wus givin tah me as mah grunt'lin fer 'elpin out wiff dah Argunt Ternamint. Ees suppozd tah do as Ey sayz, but eez a lazy peon."

I frown in disappointment at Sarok, but I resist the urge to punch him in the mouth.

"Yeaa, evry un dat 'elped wiff dah Argunt 'umans git a grunt'lin." he says as he turns to stumble out the door and into the dusty streets of Orgrimmar.

I sit in quiet contemplation for a moment. Perhaps my suspicion that the warlocks may be sacrificing children to their dark masters is wrong. Maybe something is going on with these Gruntlings. Poor little Rellok looked like he had been fighting, and he is much too young to be allowed into the arena.

With renewed purpose I rise from the crappy little drinking establishment and make my way out into the crowded streets. Maybe my big brother can help me.

pt 32 Facing the Tyrant

"Damnit you morons!! Get yourselves up, we have a job to finish. Lady Sylvanas went after Arthas, and will need our help!!" Squish yells at the battered remenants of her warband.

Begrudgingly they all begin to rise. It had been a long and painful fight through the twisting halls of Icecrown Citadel. First, we had to slog through a place called the Forge of Souls, then through a hidden quarry where slaves were being used to mine vast quantities of the strange metal called Saronite. It was there that we faced a powerful scourgelord, one of Arthas's lieutenants, and found where the dreaded runeblade of Arthas, Frostmourne, was being kept unguarded. Lady Sylvanas siezed the opportunity and lead us into a place called the Halls of Reflection where we found the sword, and a trap, we were ambushed by Arthas himself. He turned his ghostly minions on us while Lady Sylvanas followed him up a corridor.

A female troll, our shaman healer steps forward "Give us a momeent Mon! We is all beat up from dah fight." she says forcefully.

The mysterious and beautiful Troll, whom we have come to know as Jezi, was not one to be taken lightly. She has been known to heal you one minute and then stab you the next. There is even rumors that she has secretly retained the forbidden troll practice of ritual cannibalism.

Squish eyesballs Jezi for a moment, looking for any sign that she is challenging her leadership. Satisfied that she is not, Squish turns and catches sight of Calmfury. He is in the corner of the room sitting in a daze, and looking at some battered piece of junk.

"What do you have there Tauren?" Squish says inquisitively as she walks across the icy floor.

The dazed Druid looks up at the Blood elf. He looks as though he is far away in a dream and barely cogniscent of what is going on in the room.

"It's a hilt to a broken sword" he says slowly.

Squish snatches the battered piece of junk out of the Tauren's hand and gives it a closer examination.

"It looks to be a Sin'dorei artifact." Squish says as she tosses it back to the Druid. "You should have it checked out by the Sunreavers when you get back to Dalaran."

The warband finally begins to rise as Squish walks about the room prodding them along. The hallway that Sylvanas chased Arthas down looks foreboading, but the warband presses on anyway. All of them know that if we can manage to kill Arthas here, then this whole nightmare would be over and we would be exalted heroes of the Horde.

Suddenly, Squish holds up her mace, signaling for us to stop. Then with a shout she surges forward, striking a bone giant that had been hiding in the dark recesses of hallway.

"Bloodlust!! Forward!! Bring down this monstrosity!!" the lithe Blood elf screams.

The warband rushes in to attack as the undead giant bellows incoherently.
He punches furiously at his assailants to no avail, each of the members of the warband are too fast and skilled to be hit by the giant. Yet, they take every opportunity to slash, bludgeon and sear him with spells and weapons.

Clearly frustrated with the losing fight, the bone giant raises his hands into the air and screams, the piercing cry nearly deafening all around the room. As if the haunted fortress itself hears him, coherant shadows descend from the ceiling to join the fight. The ghastly forms suddenly turn into replicas of the warband, complete with weapons, armor and a deadly knowledge of magic.

As if on que, Calmfury charges into the frey, swiping furiously at the imposters with his razor sharp claws. In each doppleganger, the tenacity and skill of the originals is evident. In fact, some members of the warband step away from the fight, clearly disgusted at the thought of fighting their comrades, even if they are just shadowy immitations.

"Fight you dogs!! Kill them now!!" Squish screams

Calmfury rises up and bellows a mighty roar that echoes through the icy chamber, for a moment the dopplegangers give pause. Long enough for the warband to pull together and take the initiative. One by one the shadows fall, and attention is once again turned to the Bone Giant.

Again, the giant is assaulted, his putrid flesh being torn and seared from his legs and abdomen. Finally, with one last scream, the monstrosity falls. As he comes apart and crashes to the ground the undead giant bellows a warning to Arthas.

"Master!! I have failed you!!"

A victory shout rises from the warband as they do a savage dance around the fallen guardian. Then, Squish points once again up the hallway.

"Bloodlust!! We have a king to murder this night. Forward!!" she shouts amidst spirited whoops and hollars from the bloodthirsty warband.

All except for one. The beast known as Calmfury stands stoicly in bear form, gazing back down the hallway at something in the shadows.

"Calm Mon, what do you be seein down dere?" Jezi says as she walks up to the druid and stares into the shadows. She can barely make out the shadowy form of a human dressed in tattered robes. He is standing against the wall, trying to hide.

The druid looks up at the shapely shaman. "I don't know. I think it's one of the shadows we just fought. He looks and smells familiar to me" Calmfury manages to say with his gravelly bear voice.

"Jezi and Calmfury, comon!! We haved no time to waste!!" Squish yells as she continues to lead her warband up the hallway.

The pair turn and follow, leaving the mysterious shadow alone in the hallway.

"Calmfury Mon, did ya notice dat dere were no shadows dat looked like a big smelly bear? Maybe dah Lich King don't be likin animals?" Jezi says as she smiles broadly through her glimmering fangs.

Suddenly, the sounds of battle can be heard up ahead. As the warband reaches the doorway at the end of the hall they can see a pitched battle between Arthas, and Lady Sylvanas. It looks as though that Sylvanas is on the losing end of the fight, and Arthas has barely been scratched.

"He is too powerful!!" Sylvanas screams "We have to escape and tell the others. It's going to take more than the Horde to defeat him!!"

pt 31 The rot at the root

Blood flowed like water in the Valley of Wisdom. The bodies of dozens of humans, orcs, elves, almost all the races of Azeroth were strewn around the streets like rag dolls in a tornado. Yet another failed attempt on the life of the mighty Warchief Thrall.

Through the midst of the devastation walks an elderly orc. His long grey beard and hair hanging like the mane of an ancient beast. Yet, despite his wild appearance, there was something mystical and powerful about this orc. The peons assigned to clean up the gore give him a wide berth. Even the guards standing in front of Grommash Hold hesitate to stop him.

"Hold it rite dere... No ones allowd een to see dah Warchief taday." the mighty Kor'kron guardsman says with authority.

The elderly orc looks up at the guardsman. His ancient face reveals no trace of emotion or even concern. Yet, in his eyes burns a terrifying fire.

"Guardsman, you are to fetch Eitrigg at once. Tell him his long lost brother is here to see him." the orc says, his deep voice cutting the air like a razor.

The guard stares in astonishment for a moment. "Weel okays, eyell git ehm, butt if yer lyin eymm gonna stomp yer gutz!" The guard wheels about and enters the fortress.

Several moments pass before the guard returns with another elderly orc at his side. It is Eitrigg, grizzled veteran of countless wars, and one of Thrall's closest advisers. He squints for a moment as he walks out into the sunlight. Then, a wide smile comes across his face as he sees the orc before him.

"Dretrigg!! My brother!! Is it really you?!?" Eitrigg exclaims as he embraces the strange visitor.

The two orcs stand in a silent embrace for a long moment. It's clear to everyone around that the pair have long been apart.

"Yes big brother, it is me. I had heard that you were serving the new Warchief on Azeroth, and I made my way from Nagrand, through the Dark portal to come and find you." Dretrigg says stoicly. "Please Eitrigg, can you get me in to see Thrall? I have something important to tell him."

Eitrigg steps back away from his little brother. Tears of joy streaming down his face. He stammers for a moment, obviously overcome with emotion.

"Why, of course I can see what I can do. The Warchief is very busy but I have his ear. Come in and make use of our hospitality." Eitrigg finally says. The big smile on his face showing his exhuberance.

The pair walk past the guards into Grommash Hold. The room beyond smelling of cooking meat, dusty stone, and the unmistakable scent of orcs.

"Dretrigg the last time I saw you was in Nagrand before Gul'dan led us through the portal. You were suffering from the Red Pox if I remember."

"Yes, I stayed in Nagrand through the great sundering. Afterwards I joined the shamans at the Throne of Elements, trying to heal the land, and to reclaim our home from the warlocks.

Eitrigg stops in the hallway before Thrall's chamber, the wide grin still on his face. "Brother, we have so much to catch up on."

Dretrigg looks his big brother deep in the eyes. His face still showing no emotion. "Brother, I need to speak with Thrall, it is very important."

Concern and worry makes Eitrigg's grin lessen. "Of course brother, I will see to it."

"And Eitrigg..." the old shaman says in a whisper. "I have many enemies within the ranks of the Warlocks. Many that would gladly see me dead. It is well known that Thrall keeps a coven of Warlocks here in Orgrimmar. Please don't call me by my birth name anymore. Since I have came to Azeroth I have gone by the name Orkimedes."

Eitrigg nods and smiles as he turns and enters Thrall's chamber.

The brooding Thrall sits heavily on his throne. Obviously he is deeply concerned about todays attack on Orgrimmar.

Dretrigg stands by the entryway as his brother approaches Thrall.

"Why Eitrigg, I have not seen you smile in a long time." Thrall's booming voice echoes across is throneroom. "It is not like you to be happy about bloodshed."

Eitrigg climbs the steps to Thrall's throne. "Warchief, I have a visitor that wishes to speak to you. He is an old friend, and he brings news from Nagrand."

Thrall stands and looks hard across the room at the elderly shaman.

"Eitrigg, if he is a friend of yours then I can trust him. Please come forward... uh?"

"Orkimedes is his name!" Eitrigg interrupts.

"Orkimedes" Thrall lets the almost comical name roll across his tongue.

The ancient orc strides confidently across the room stopping only to offer a polite bow to Thrall as he climbs the steps to his throne.

"Mighty Thrall, I have trekked from the Throne of Elements, through the Dark portal, across the seas, to this place. I have come to warn you of a dire threat." the shaman says with fire in his eyes.

Thrall's muscles tense and his demeanor turns dark. Clearly, more bad news was not what he was hoping for today. He motions for Orkimedes to come closer.

"Tell me of this threat!" Thrall exclaims

The old ork comes closer to Thrall, and sits down at the foot of this Throne.

"Warchief, all of the shamans at the Throne of Elements, including myself, have had visions of a dark menace here in Orgrimmar. As you know the widsom of the elements is great, and their knowledge spreads far across the span of the twisted nether." Orkimedes pauses to collect his thoughts.

"What are these visions of?" Thrall says with concern.

"They are of children." Orkimedes says "Children in great pain and suffering. Their anguish and desperation can be felt by the elements, and they call to us to save them."

A dark rage comes across Thrall's face "You mean this atrocity is happening here in Orgrimmar? How can this be?"

Eitrigg rises "Thrall, perhaps something is happening at the orphanage? That is the only place I can think of where there is a large concentration of children."

"Perhaps" Thrall nods "But, I cannot imagine that Matron Battlewail would ever let anything happen to her orphans. Nevertheless we need to check it out. Eitrigg, I want you to go over to the orphanage and have a look around."

"Yes Warchief" Eitrigg exclaims with a sharp salute. "I will investigate this and report back as soon as I find anything" He says as he turns around to leave.

"Rest assured Orkimedes, when we find whomever is doing this, they will be dealt with like the animals they are." Thrall says with a frown.

The elderly shaman bows to Thrall before turning around and following his brother out of the throneroom.

As the pair make their way out of the fortress, Eitrigg pauses and turns to his brother once again with a grin. "Dretrigg" he whispers "we have allies in Shattrath who maintain a portal to Orgrimmar. Why did you take the long way to get here?"

The old shaman frowns and looks down at the floor. "I haven't been to that city in years. Too many bad memories of dark times."

Eitrigg nods as the brothers begin making their way to the Valley of Honor.