Garrosh
It was an industrious, if wintry day in Orgrimmar, the heart of Durotar and the capital city of all the Horde. Garrosh stood in silent contemplation while advisers buzzed around him. The city was enjoying a new breath of prosperity, brought on in part by the ingenious goblin economists and in part by the war effort. Garrosh understood the pronounced effect that war could have on the heart of an orc. He did not allow even a fleeting moment of pride to cross his mind though, because he was deeply troubled.
Months had passed since the sundering of his land (for it was his land now), by the great demon Deathwing. These events had propelled Garrosh to a position he had long coveted, but felt trepidation towards nonetheless. He had long known that he could guide the future of the Horde if given the opportunity, but given the circumstances under which the opportunity sprung, he felt betrayed of his glory. Garrosh still mourned the death of his friend, Saurfang. Surely, tales of Saurfang's heroism would be carried on the songs of the men of Orgrimmar for decades to come and Garrosh intended to keep it that way.
The actions of Sylvanas were a gross violation of the sanctity of death... perhaps even an act of treason? Garrosh shuddered. No, perhaps it wasn't best to dwell on such things. No greater honour could be bestowed upon enemy combatants than a glorious death on the battlefield and the Alliance provided many noble fighters to kill, consistently. Not like the demon scum the Horde were compelled to fight. Business before pleasure was a poor maxim to live by when business occupied so much of an orc's time. .
Garrosh tried not to show favoritism, but he held a deep affinity for his subjects that carried the title of "the bloodthirsty" with pride. Garrosh knew that decisive victories were struck on the battlegrounds of Tol Barad, Arathi Basin, Alterac Valley, Warsong Gulch, Eye of the Storm, Grim Batol, Strand of the Ancients, Isle of Conquest and Wintergrasp. Veteran combatants had to be exulted as stalwart examples for the populace to follow.
Garrosh wished to strike his denizens as an imposing fellow, an impression difficult to make on an orc. He knew that decisive leadership was necessary and that he had to make choices that could be unpopular. Even if he was the only one adamant of their efficacy, his edicts would be obeyed. There would be no questioning of his reign. "Thrall," he murmured, "now there was a shaman that commanded respect". Sometimes he privately wondered whether Thrall had been right in leaving the Horde for the Earthen Ring, or in his dealings with the wench Jaina. But his adoration of the shaman prevented him from ever vocalising these concerns.
Garrosh was quite typical in his approach to religious matters. While he was no shaman, he was in commune enough with the ancestors to know their feelings. He was certain they felt uneasy around the many individuals who changed their race or sex on a whim. He could never tell whether the goblin before him had once been a blood elf, but he chose not to let it affect his judgement in the capacity of a ruler. He felt more antipathy to the troll agents of Vol'jin who infiltrated his city and filled the air with cries about being able to see Invincible. "Cretins." mused Garrosh, "Who will come to their aid when I exile them?". Nothing but hatred consumed Garrosh when he was reminded of the pretenders to the noble Horde race who proclaimed to do satanic things with currency though. He was eternally grateful to the Gods for quenching them, as they did every so often.
Garrosh was no great believer in the free press. One particularly deceitful bunch was dragged through before him on this day. His lieutenant, Dumfries, read off a litany of offences to Garrosh and the public which included fraternising with humans. Garrosh knew this criminal kind and could not sympathise with them. Already bitten by the midge of doubt, Garrosh began a tirade against them that morphed before his eyes into a death sentence. The furbolg, troll, undead and blood elf were led away to the sound of stifled sobs. Their penalty was carried out on the same day, a rather macabre affair, but with great public anticipation. The furbolg died a rather gruesome death, to the tune of blood and thunder.
Garrosh slept easily that night. He had secured a decisive victory in a battle in the unending war against subversives and he knew it would appease the proletariat. It had been some time since conscription had been enforced and it was an orc's duty and pleasure to see their enemies publicly strewn before them. Garrosh snored with a smile fixed on his face.
The following morning, Garrosh was approached by a quiet and unassuming blood elf. Garrosh believed it was the right of members of the Horde to seek consul with their leader. It inculcates resentment to be absent from the affairs of one's people for a prolonged time. If Garrosh was the leader of the Alliance, he was sure that nobody but a few nobles would have even heard of the Defias, unless passing through Elwynn cemetary. Besides, Garrosh would let his commanding presence stifle any real opposition.
"Speak, blood elf", Garrosh commanded. The blood elf responded in a lilting and appeasing tone "Why thank you m'lud. I've come on behalf of the Orgrimmar Tribune team, you see?". "You what?" Garrosh growled. "Get to the point or get out". "Well, m'lud", the blood elf continued "I've come to enquire if the bodies could be interred somewhere secure before burial... and there's another thing I thought I ought to come to you directly about". "Don't try my patience, elf", Garrosh barked. "Very well then m'lud. I came to you to accuse your lieutenant of treson". "A serious allegation, blood elf. What evidence do you have to back up such an assertion?". "Well", vacillated the elf, "a series of documents detailed the complicity he had in a deal where he sold Horde positions to the naga of vashjir in exchange for priceless pearls. I have reason to believe that he plans to sell the corpses of my compatriots to the undead mission in Gilneas for a tidy sum and then retire to Grizzly Hills.".
"Blasphemy!" spluttered Garrosh, rising from his throne to tower over the blood elf. "Those scum confessed to be working with the Alliance to bring about the destruction of the Horde! They were practically in Cho'Gall's palm!". "M'lud, if I may venture", the blood elf ventured "they only made such a confession under considerable duress. They were tortured with murlocs and their families were threatened when they eventually did sign said confessions. You can investigate your lieutenant Dumfries now, he will probably be in receipt of a one way ticket to Howling Fjord."
"If this turns out to be a ruse, I'll have your head, blood elf!", Garrosh intimated subtly with a threatening gesture. Garrosh stormed off in the direction of his lieutenants quarters. "If I may m'lud", the elf suggested. Garrosh paused, visibly fuming. "I propose that we recover the bodies first to prevent their looting and have your guards apprehend the traitor". Garrosh nodded in defeat. He instructed a passing pair of footsoldiers to raid Dumfries luxury apartment on the lower West side of the Valley of Honour. As the Thrall surrogate and the unintroduced blood elf approached the execution chamber, they noticed an odd aura ensorceled it. Inside was lieutenant Dumfries, in possession of a traditional tauren pipe. Dumfries was attempting to defenestrate the corpse of the furbolg without much luck, gripping the skull, applying pressure to the shoulder with the sole of his foot and leaning to and fro. Garrosh and the unnamed blood elf stared at the orc dumbfounded, until the orc recognised the company. "Fnarr!" shrieked Dumfries. "The machinations are in place! I shall go to the lumberjacks ball!". Dumfries dropped his pipe and began to hurl a weak water spell at Garrosh. Garrosh easily negated it with a power word chakra and manhandled Dumfries into a nearby cage. Once inside the cage Dumfries performed a jig and began flinging dirt at nearby passers-by.
Garrosh's regret began to well up inside him. He grasped the blood elf to his chest and apologised sincerely, determined to amend his wrongs. The blood elf paused, noting that nothing would bring back his brother. But he was sure that Garrosh could prevent similar instances of miscarriages of justice if he applied himself. Resigned by oath to the pursuit of peace, Garrosh worked feverishly. He assigned a clearing where a prison could be built to house anybody tried under Horde law to a reasonable degree of comfort. He convened the most judicious of the Horde and had them set up a court that could be called at any moment, with a jury of peers taken from any citizen of the Horde. While he was not an especially assiduous writer, he produced a document that called upon the ancestors to grant every member of the Horde rights by law and by blood.
Some months later, when the construction of the prison was completed and the prisoners were transferred from their temporary cages and cells, he proudly affixed the document to the front gate of the prison and proclaimed to the whole city "From this night on, my brothers and sisters, no member of the Horde will be executed within the walls of Orgrimmar, or any place where the Horde rule!". Muted applause followed, punctuated by staccato laughing. Dumfries exclaimed from his prison window "They died, I live, they died, I live, I win!". Murmurs of discontent filled the crowd "No", Garrosh said with an edge of humility to his voice. "We win", he gestured to the Horde.