The Tauren brute drops me into my chair at the edge of the arena, and dives headlong into the bloodstained sandy ring below. He claims to be my old friend Calmfury, but looks nothing like him. Meanwhile, the crowd begins to voice their displeasure at the interruption of tonights spectacle, as this Tauren imposter kneels down at the body of my dead daughter. His sobs can be heard over the hissing audience.
I was told by Slasherjoe that Calmfury had died at the hands of Garrosh several months ago. In my own way I mourned my friend, afterall he adopted my daughter from the orphanage and raised her as his own. He kept my secret safe and allowed me to watch her from afar. When Calmfury was killed, Slasherjoe brought Meekha to me and told me the news, I was furious. She should have gone back to the orphanage, but he had already told her who I was. There is no way I would have her growing up to hate me, the wrath of an Orc woman is at best a death sentence.
I don't know if, or even how this imposter can be Calmfury, somehow brought back to life, but I dont intend to stick around to see how this ends. As the crowd pushes to the edge of the arena, I grab my bulging leather bag, and my trusty maul and quickly begin to push my way towards the exit.
I am well known and well liked here by everyone. I have been generous and forgiving of those who have lost bets that they couldn't cover. Out of respect and possibly fear, the spectators part and allow me easy access to the door. My best bet is to get out of Orgrimmar and catch the zepplin to Warsong Hold in Outland. It is near my time to report to Garrosh and to bring him the gold we have made from the arena.
"Charibdys!!!" the imposter in the arena screams above the roar of the enraged audience "Come quickly!!!"
With frenzied determination I finally push my way out of the arena and into the cool evening, there standing before me is Squish and her cronies, as if they are guarding the door.
"Why look what we have here. It's the old disease bag himself. I'm guessing that Calmfury found you?" Squish says with her usual sneer.
I look hard at her as I focus my magic and summon my deathcharger into existence.
"Dat eemposter ees not Calmfury, he died remembah?!?" I growl furiously as I sling my pack over the undead mount.
"Well, you know we can't let you leave so quickly Goregreedy" Squish says "We have to get this little misunderstanding with Calmfury's gruntling squared away."
"Speekin of dat Gore, weere is Meekha? Why are you leavin witout her?" Slasherjoe says as he steps out from behind Squish's mob.
"RRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWWWWWWRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!"
An unearthly and terrifying roar shakes the walls of the massive colliseum and echos across the sandstone walls of the valleys beyond.
Squish and her band suddenly spring to attention, drawing their weapons and preparing to defend against whatever it is that is now rampaging through the inside of the arena.
I waste no time, taking advantage of the distraction, I jump on my deathcharger and spur the beast forward, towards the gates leaving the Valley of Honor. Behind me I can hear the muffled screams of the stampeding crowd, All trying to escape the massive building that has somehow become their tomb.
How is this even possible? For the first time in an age, terror fills my heart. Perhaps that Tauren was Calmfury and he somehow came back to life with the help of a Dreadlord of the Legion. Only a demon of that caliber could make such a horrible howl, drive fear in the hearts of veteran warriors, and slaughter them so easily. I know, I fought the Legion on Mount Hyjal.
My deathcharger pushes relentlessly past the gate and into the drag. As I turn towards the Valley of Strength and the front gates of Orgrimmar, I see the mighty warchief Thrall and his Kor'kron guards coming from Grommash Hold in the Valley of Wisdom. Apparently, they heard the roar and are going to face whatever it is that made it. Good, let them deal with the horror that is tearing up their precious city.
I spur my mount harder as I tear into the Valley of Strength towards the front gate. A growing crowd of the usual rabble that do business in the Auction house begin to swarm past me back towards the arena. No doubt they heard the commotion and want to check it out.
Hot wind and sand assaults my face as I pass through the outer gate and into the majestic desert of Durotar beyond. There outside the walls of Orgrimmar is the zepplin tower. I am fortunate because the massive airship is docked at the moment and loading supplies for its long voyage back to the Borean Tundra to Garrosh's fortress.
At the base of the tower I slide off my deathcharger, and dismiss the ghostly beast. Hoisting the heavy bag of gold over my shoulder, I make the long climb up the tower and stride onto the deck of the goblin zepplin. The little green bastards pay me little notice as I sit down at the edge of the ship and look out across the evening sky of Azeroth. Off in the distance I can see the faint glow of a fire from the center of Orgrimmar.
Soon, it will all be behind me.
