Chapter One: Landfall

Thunder roared, the winds howled. The sails were torn, and the vessels of the horde tossed and turned upon the waves. The Maelstrom dragged at the ships, seeking to draw them into oblivion.

Warchief Thrall stood at the prow, his eyes closed. Several of the orcs had been lost at sea in the endless turmoil. Others had despaired of ever reaching land and leaped into the deep. The churning depths were below them, drawing ever nearer. Rocks could be seen near the center, jutting out of the sea.

But Thrall beseeched the spirits of the wind. And his cries were answered. Great gusts shot down and blew their ships away, and the ships of the Horde scattered with the winds. They drifted for a time before finally crashing upon the rocks on a distant shore.

Here the orcs worked to unload what supplies remained to them. Thrall sat upon his wolf mount, giving orders. Weapons and foodstuffs were carried out by noncombatants. And all the time the lower reaches of the ship creaked and groaned. When they had finished, they stood there on the barren shore, breathing for a long, long time. Exhausted and weary, yet on land at last.

He had followed the mysterious prophet's instructions. Thrall had led the Horde across the Great Sea. Thrall wondered what unseen dangers lurked within the crags of the desolate land.

Kalimdor, if indeed this war Kalimdor, was a barren, sweltering realm. The bay was filled with sharp rocks. The sky was pale blue, and the sun beat down on them in an endless rain of light. Sweat dripped from their skin as they discussed what to do next. Thrall remained silent, contemplating recent events. The ship was broken and snapped, its timbers strained and splintered. When he had last had a look at the inside water was pouring in. A warrior, Burx, approached him.

'Warchief, our ship sustained heavy damage when we passed through the raging maelstrom.' He paused, about to say what they all knew. 'It's unsalvageable.'

Thrall sighed. 'I knew it.' He had hoped to scour the coast for a suitable landing spot with the whole fleet, so much for that idea. 'Can we confirm our location? Is this Kalimdor?'

'We traveled due west as you instructed.' said Burx. 'This should be it.'

'Very well.' said Thrall. 'Has there been any sign of Grom Hellscream or the other ships?'

'No Warchief,' replied Burx, 'not since we got separated.'

'Prepare to move out!' called Thrall. 'If our comrades did make it here, we should be able to find them along the coast.'

The orcs and trolls made their way onward through the blistering heat. They tried to keep the shade provided by the indigenous trees. Even so, it was unpleasant to labor beneath the beating sun.

As they headed north, past the trees they came to a force of Murlocs, standing over some freshly hewn corpses. The bodies were those of strange, humanoid, pig creatures. The murlocs looked up, eyes gleaming and Thrall called his warriors to a halt.

'Damn it,' said Thrall, 'we'll try and go around. I'd rather not make enemies as soon as we land here.'

'Warchief,' said Burx, 'there are many of our woman and children with us, and we have run low on water. We cannot risk them. We must fight.'

'…Very well,' said Thrall, 'we warriors will move forward to face them. We will fight to hold a position here until our waterskins are refilled. If the murlocs attack us, we will defend ourselves. Otherwise, I don't want any unnecessary combat.'

The orcs and trolls obeyed. The murlocs eyed the large number of greenskins suspiciously. They seemed to be speaking with one another about how to deal with the matter. They readied themselves for battle but did not attack.

So the stalemate continued. Finally, Burx came to him. 'Warchief, we've gotten all the water we can and drunk all our stomachs can hold. If we're not going to fight we should press on.'

'Very well,' said Thrall, 'move out!'

So they traveled onward for a day. When the sun was setting, they came to a village. Or what was left of one. The houses were aflame. Many corpses littered the ground. They were of humanoid cowmen whose species Thrall did not know. Although there were also many of the pig men.

Burx kneeled by him. 'A great battle took place here. The clay is red with fresh blood.'

'Is there nothing in this land but death and carnage?' asked Thrall in exhaustion. It seemed that no matter where one went, blood was spilled without mercy or forgiveness. 'Come, let us head north and see if we can locate our brethren.'

They traveled north into a place with many trees on all sides. The shade was a welcome change, and they continued in better spirits for a time. Then they rounded a bend and found themselves staring at a melee. A group of warriors with the heads of cows were surrounded on all sides by creatures with the bodies of horses. There was a vicious combat taking place.

'Those hideous creatures have the bodies of horses…' said Thrall, rousing himself. 'Lok'tar Ogar!'

The warriors surged forward to the rescue, yet even as they did so, the cowmen were cut to piece. The horsemen looked at the size of Thrall's army and immediately drew back. They were too fast to overtake.

Thrall halted. 'Let's move on.' he said. 'They may have friends nearby.'

They journeyed east beyond the range of the trees. However, they saw no sign of the horsemen. The orcs halted here for a time, and drank and ate from their supplies.

'Warchief,' said Burx, 'we're all with you master. Yet why did we not pursue those horsemen? We could have slaughtered them.'

'Our race fell,' said Thrall, 'because we allowed our bloodlust to cloud out everything that made us noble. I shall not see us fall into such a state again.

'Besides, the horsemen may have had forces nearby. We do not know this land yet, and I do not want to take sides in this conflict.'

'As you say, Warchief.' said Burx, but it was not over.

Thrall knew that sooner or later, he would be forced to compromise his principles. Or he would lose control of the horde. It was unavoidable. Yet that day was not today. He led them northeast, making his way through an area greener and cooler than the others. The shade from the trees made travel more bearable, and they tried to stick to those areas.

Eventually, they halted as they came across a village filled with anthropomorphic pigs. They carried maces, and staffs and spears and were hustled around a campfire. Many of their children were taking shelter in tents. They had not seen them yet.

'Those pig creatures are unlike anything I've ever seen before.' noted Thrall.

'At least they're prettier than the humans,' said Burx.

'Let's backtrack.' said Thrall. 'We may find a path around them.'

'It would be far simpler just to kill them.' muttered Burx, but he relented.

Making their way back, they tried a pass which led on a direct path to the pig creatures. He found a secluded beach, which led around the pig men's location. It was sheltered by a high cliff, and so the horde was able to pass undetected by the pig men's camp. Then they came across a wreck that looked very much like the ships they had brought from Lordaeron.

The warriors searched it for any survivors. After a few minutes, they returned. 'Chieftan, this wreck has been abandoned for quite some time. Perhaps the crew has survived and is around here someplace.'

'We'll search for them.' agreed Thrall.

They made their way off the beach, and into a vast open plain. To the east was a line of trees, while to the south Thrall saw a village of pig men. Within their camp, he saw an enclosure and knew that that place was where the crew must have been taken. He did not dare risk telling his warriors to rush in and save them without killing anyone again. To do so would risk mutiny. It would be better to do it in a manner which was impressive and could make a good story.

'I will free our comrades on my own.' said Thrall, before urging his wolf, Snowsong into a full run, and rushing into the village. He raced past the pig men, who launched arrows at him, yet to no avail. He reached the enclosure and found some trolls tied to posts. Dismounting, he removed a knife and slashed their bonds.

'Free your comrades, we must escape this place!' He said.

There was Vol'jin. The elderly troll shook off his ropes and went to help the others. 'Thanks for saving us, mon.' he said.

The trolls worked quickly. But not quickly enough. Thrall raised his hammer and summoned the spirits. A bolt of lightning shot forward and tore through many of the ropes in moments. There were only a few warriors amongst these trolls, and many woman and children.

'We must escape this place quickly!' said Thrall. 'Run!'

They rushed out of the enclosure just in time to avoid the pig men cutting them off at the entrance. Thrall knocked down several pig men as the troll noncombatants fled north. As the pig men rushed at them, Thrall slammed the ground with his hammer.

The ground shook, and the pig men fell over. Thrall and his warriors escaped.

'We should hurry,' said the troll, 'the pig men say there were other ships nearby!'

They raced out of the village and met their people waiting for them in a great crowd. 'Quickly, get everyone together!' called Thrall. 'We head east!'

As they fled they saw the pig men come after them with spears and clubs. But they gave up the chase soon enough. After a time, they gave up the hunt. Soon they came to another village.

Here there were many cowmen dead. And there were the hooves of horsemen everywhere. It was obvious what was happening.

'The horsemen are slaughtering those bull creatures,' realized Thrall in resignation. 'I brought us here to escape senseless conflict. Not, it seems, we're surrounded by it.'

They traveled to the northeast. As they did, they ran into a column of orcs and trolls. The two groups ran forward to meet one another.

'Throm-Ka Warchief.' their leader hailed him. 'We knew you'd find us!'

'Throm-Ka, warrior. I'm glad your all safe.' said Thrall. 'Were you part of Hellscream's group?' There were two factions e in the new Horde, those loyal to Thrall, and those loyal to Hellscream.

'No Warchief,' said the warrior, 'We were separated in the storm. We only just arrived.' Evidently, he had misinterpreted Thrall's meaning. Oh well, so much the better. They made their way north. On their march saw packs of massive green lizards, who wandered here and there. Burx looked at them with interest. 'We're not fighting them.' He said 'Lets press on west a ways.'

The warriors looked disappointed. Thrall didn't care.

As they went, they came to a place where many pig men were doing battle with more bull men. 'Keep moving.' said Thrall. 'I want to be away from here by the time they finish.' His words sounded hollow, even to him, and yet press forward they did.

As they marched onward, several of the pig men hurled spears at them. But none found their mark, and the orcs slipped away. Yet soon the ground began to shake beneath their feet. Thrall came to a place overlooking a vast army of horsemen riding in vast numbers across the plains. 'Those horsemen look as though their dressed for war.' He noted, Yet they were beyond his reach, and there was nothing he could do about it. 'Come, warriors, let us press further east.'

So far, despite all their escapes and near deaths, not a single member of Thrall's now far larger forces had died. Even Thrall was amazed at this, though he noted that some had been injured. Thrall was determined to keep it that way for as long as possible. There would come a day where he would set aside his pacifism, and fight in an honorable battle for a just cause. Yet that time was not yet here.

His resolve was tested soon. On a hill, they saw a pool around which the spirits were plentiful. Anyone who drank from such a fountain would be healed, he could sense it. There was a tribe of pig men around it. As they tried to approach hurled projectiles, determined to keep it all to themselves.

Morale began to falter, and Thrall realized he would have to find a worthy battle soon. His mouth was dry, and he drank from a canteen to quench it. There was hardly any left. Then he continued onwards, leading his forces along the shore to the southwest. They went north, but many murlocs had taken up residence in the waters there. So they were unable to refill their water supply and had to press on.

'Warchief, we cannot continue like this!' cried Burx. 'We must fight soon, or we will die!'

'Just a little longer.' Thrall assured him. 'Soon we will find a worthy conflict.' And he reflected that soon would have to be very soon, as he led them further along the shore. To have access to such vast amounts of water, and yet be unable to drink of it was torture. East they found only grassy cliffs, which were impassable. So they headed south, always south.

Eventually, they came across a group of their warriors, who greeted them.

'Throm-Ka Warchief,' said the warrior.

'Well met, warrior.' said Thrall, forgetting to use orcish. 'has there been any sign of-'

'The horsemen are charging!' cried Vol'jin. 'Defend yourselves!'

If ever there was a time for battle, it was now. 'Lok'tar! Lok'tar!' cried Thrall as he led his forces against the horsemen.

There was a vicious battle that ensued. The orcs and trolls were thirsty and tired from endless marching. But the mere prospect of battle washed away all of it. Thrall smashed the skull of a horseman with his hammer. Burx cut the legs from under another, as jungle trolls hurled spears which impaled many more. Arrows were shot from bows by the horsemen, and several trolls fell. Some warriors were cut down by their the orcs fought with greater skill. After more than half their number had been killed the horsemen fled.

From the nearby forest emerged a great, white-haired bull man. He held a huge halberd and was clad in leather armor. His eyes were old, and filled with resolved sorrow, and his face was careworn.

'I am Cairne, Chief of the Bloodhoof Tauren.' he said in an old voice. 'You green skins fight with both savagery and valor. I am intrigued.'

'I am Thrall,' replied the Warchief, 'and these are my brethren, the orcs. We've come seeking the destiny promised to us.'

'Seeking destiny?' said Cairne, kindly amusement in his tone as he planted his halberd in the dirt. 'Hmm, it will find you in time, young one. However, there is an Oracle far to the north who may be able to-'

'North?' asked Thrall. 'But there is an army of the horsemen marching north.'

'What?!' said Cairne, horror in his tone. 'No! My village is in danger!'

Then without any further words, he and his warriors turned and began rushing away. Thrall remained still for a moment. 'I must know more about this Oracle!' He said after a moment. 'Follow them! Protect Cairne all costs!'

It was the essence of simplicity to catch up with Cairne. He and his warriors moved with slow steps which the orcs easily outpaced. They kept pace with Cairne and his warriors and soon came to a series of totems placed in the sand on a cliff. It seemed that these marked the entrance to his village.

As Thrall and his forces advanced in front of Cairne, he found a force of tauren waiting around. A few were wounded as if from recent battle. The orcish noncombatants took shelter behind in the village. Thrall and his warriors took up positions in the front. Before they could fully prepare, however, a host of centaurs rushed forward as if from nowhere. Several tauren fell before they could go to their aid. Then the orcs and jungle trolls were fighting brutally.

Then Cairne waded into battle.

'We've arrived in time!' said Cairne. 'The next wave is advancing!'

And at this moment, Thrall knew beyond a doubt that the time had come. 'Forward my warriors! This is the honorable battle we have awaited! Drive these horsemen before you! Show them the power of the Horde!' And he sent a bolt of chain lightning through the front rank of the horsemen, slaying many.

The warriors roared in triumph and charged forward to meet the horsemen in battle. Axes hewed, and spears were hurled with deadly accuracy. After a gruesome few minutes of fighting, the horsemen retreated.

Yet more were riding towards them in the distance. Their hooves were echoing across the plains. 'Lok'narash!' cried Thrall. 'Here they come again!'

A wave of spears surged through the air, and slew a line of horsemen. The warriors charged side by side with the tauren. Once again, the battle was joined, and blood stained the red earth. Some orc warriors were hacked down in the fighting. Yet the casualties were far worse for the horsemen, who died to the man in the battle. It seemed that the orcs and tauren made a formidable team.

Even so, Thrall used the few moments between now and the next wave to contemplate the tragedy of war. Looking at the face of a fallen horsemen youth, he wondered what his name was. Had he been evil-minded and bloodthirsty? Or a young warrior seeking to prove himself? Had he chosen to join this battle, or been forced?

The next wave was led by a massive horseman who wielded a huge axe. He rushed towards them, bellowing cries to his comrades. A force of grim horsemen with many scars rode with him.

'Ah, they've brought a champion with them this time!' proclaimed Cairne, who seemed to be enjoying himself now that victory was possible.

Thrall's warriors and the tauren rushed to meet the champion in battle. The screams of the dying now filled the air. Even as the press of battle seemed to turn against the champion, a force of centaurs attacked them from the rear. Several dozen trolls were cut down by their attack before they recovered. The Horde turned to fight back.

On it went. Until at last the champion was slain by Cairne. For a few moments, the centaur fought on. Then they broke and fled. The victory was theirs.

But at the cost of many lives.

The dead were buried by the customs of their races. For a time there was a mournful silence. Thrall had always known that glory on the battlefield was not without cost. Yet it was now that he recognized most why he despised violence. Every man who fell upon the field of battle today had a mother, and a father. They had sisters and brothers. the tauren and orcs and trolls were not the only people mourning their losses. So too were the centaurs.

Yet not the pig men. Not one of them had died by an orcs hand. And that gave Thrall strength. He approached Cairne, as the old tauren looked out into space, his eyes distant. 'Your tribe is safe, old one.' He said at last.

'Thanks to you, young warchief.' replied Cairne 'But the centaur drove off all the game in this region, and I cannot allow my people to starve. Soon we must head north, to the verdant grasslands of Mulgore.' His tone had a note of worry within it.

'And you fear the marauders will overtake you?' guessed Thrall.

'Yes,' said Cairne grimly. 'the devil's speed cannot be matched upon the plains.'

'Well, if you tell us how to reach the Oracle you spoke of, then my brethren and I will escort you on your march.' Offered Thrall, meaning it with all his heart. So long as the battles he fought were fought protecting the tauren, the deaths would have meaning.

'I am intrigued by you and your people, young Thrall. You are more than welcome to join us.' replied Cairne, sounding quite happy about the fact.

The human expedition to Kalimdor landed without incident upon a green island. It was a little east of the mainland. It was the many palm trees which attracted them. They found fresh fruits upon the trees which were delicious to taste. The sun shone little hotter than Jaina would have liked, however.

Jaina's top clung to her voluptuous form a bit more than usual. She wiped away droplets of sweat from her golden hair and pulled off her hood to survey the scene below. The movement sent her chest bouncing alluringly.

From the hilltop she had teleported to she could see her people. They were making their way off the vessels they had come here in. They ships were in perfect condition and could be used later for all manner of things. War, or better yet, exploration. No one had died on the weeks-long journey. Now they were unloading their supplies and equipment onto the island. The soldiers Jaina had brought with her stood guard over them with guns and swords. When all had been completed to Jaina's satisfaction, she made her way down to camp.

There she was approached by several admirers.

'That was amazing, Lady Jaina!' said Sergeant Lorena.

'I know!' said the Captain of the Footmen. 'No one believed that someone could get through the Maelstrom without losing a ship! And without a single man lost! My helm is off to you lady.'

Jaina was pleased by the praise, though she would never admit. 'Well I'm not the Princess of Kul'tiras for nothing,' said Jaina. 'when I was a girl my Father had me memorized all sorts of thing about ships and weather and how they mixed. I was using one of my Fathers theories, I can't wait to tell him it worked.' Her voice became grim. 'Though that might take awhile. At any rate, our priority is to begin setting up proper shelters and begin planting farms. Its late in the growing season, so we'd best get to work right away.'

The process took awhile. During it, the colonists worked hard. They upturned dirt to create a vegetable bed. They planted seeds and erected shelters. Tools were unloaded and put into work. Tropical trees were felled for lumber. A storehouse was raised to keep raw materials within. Not all was perfect, however, for a number of the soldiers who had come with them were reluctant to work.

'We're warriors!' they objected. 'Why should we do farming. We came here for adventure.'

'We're in this for the long hall.' replied Jaina with a demure smile. 'He who does not work does not eat.' That got them out of their slothful tendencies. Jaina kept everyone on the smallest rations that were healthy. She meant to make her supplies last.

Throughout the next week, they had begun to construct a full town. Some had even begun to pave the streets. The farms were finished, and the everyday sort of magic which let them produce so quickly was made.

However, Jaina was not so confident that she let defense slacken. At any given time she kept a detachment of footmen and riflemen ready for battle. She sent the ships to scout the area surrounding the island, and find the mainland. There they encountered a marshy area, and her scouts reported that beyond it lay a dusty, barren land.

'What shall we name the marsh, lady?' asked Lorena.

'Dustwallow.' said Jaina, preoccupied with reading.

'And the barren land?' Lorena pressed her.

'The barrens,' replied Jaina, turning a page.

'That is… original.' Lorena said. 'What of the island?'

'Theramore,' Jaina said absently.

'Why Theramore?' He asked.

'Whose the intrepid explorer here?' asked Jaina, glancing up from her book.

At that moment there came a clamor, and a clash of arms. Jaina looked up and saw that a force of murlocs had come out of the waters and were attacking the camp. Peasants fled in terror, as the footmen and riflemen rushed forward to meet them. Several murlocs were gunned down in the charge, as the footmen met the creatures in melee. A footman was wounded and forced to be dragged from the fray by his friends. A murloc had his skull cleaved by a blade. A vast force of murlocs was coming out of the shallows now. Jaina sighed and raised her staff from where she was sitting.

A rain of ice descended upon them and tore the creatures apart as they charged. Those that remained fled. The footmen and riflemen cheered in enthusiasm. No one had been killed, and they had been itching for some action.

'Don't celebrate yet,' said Jaina, standing and making her way down the hill, 'murlocs live in the shallows. Their headed north, which means that is where we'll find their encampment.' She paused and sighed. 'I hate resorting to violence, but we'll have to wipe them out. We need this entire island if we're to house everyone.'

The troupe headed north towards the merloc's village. They descended into the shallows, guns, and swords readied. The murlocs put up stiff resistance. But they were smaller and not numerous enough to make up the difference. Gunshots pierced their scaly hides, as swords cleaved their skulls. Jaina summoned a water elemental, whose powers sent waves of power to crush the murlocs. Several of the footmen were caught in nets and surrounded. Yet priests healed their wounds, and their comrades came to their aid.

After a few more minutes of battle, the murlocs were all dead or had fled into the sea.

'Well done everyone,' said Jaina with a smile, 'but we'll have to burn down their houses. Otherwise, more of them will return and take up residence here.' The men looked a bit reluctant to do this. 'It's a regrettable necessity, but that's colonization for you. Don't worry murlocs do not have children. See, they lay their eggs under the sea. When they hatched after a brief time they become tadpoles. Those eventually grow into full murlocs which get larger over time.'

'Yes milady,' said the footmen, sounding a bit disturbed for some reason Jaina didn't understand.

Torches were lit and set to the village's structures. They were soon consumed in flames and fell into broken bits as Jaina watched the whole thing. After all of it was done, Jaina stretched. 'Well, that was a success, good job everyone. We'd better head back to camp. Extra rations by the way!'

There were a number of other murloc raids, of course. The creatures did not give up easily. Each time they attacked, Jaina would let one or two live so that they could follow them back to their encampment. There they wiped out the murlocs completely and torched their villages. All in all, Jaina's people torched five murloc villages. At last, there wasn't a single murloc village left on Theramore Isle. The survivors fled into the sea in terror.

Satisfied that the colony was secure for now, Jaina began making plans to head further inland. She had to find the Prophet…

Authors Note:

Anyway, I just edited this chapter. It was a real mess with a lot of gameplay elements. I tried to edit it to make more sense from an in-universe perspective. While I was doing that I altered Thrall's dialogue to try and make him more in character. I also gave the random warrior Thrall keeps talking to a name,