I will open by saying I do not play World of Warcraft. This was written for a buddy of mine. If you try to engage me in a conversation about WoW prepare yourself for disappointment, this isn't my field.
Chapter I: Prisoners of Fate
Torkra's ears picked up the sound of plated boots crunching through the underbrush. The orcs on their knees beside him shifted as far as their bindings would allow, trying to see the source of the sound as if glimpsing it sooner might unseal their fate. Their captors spared one moment of vigilance to acknowledge the newcomer before returning their sights down nocked arrows at the row of orcs in the clearing of Ashenvale Forest.
The sound of the boots stopped and for the first time Torkra opened his now remaining eye, lifting his head to view the tall night elf standing over him. It was clad in armor up to the neck, face ageless as all night elves' were, with eyes that regarded Torkra with a mixture of disdain and pity.
It muttered something over his shoulder to one of the guards who responded with a short answer, then nodded, still not taking his lambent eyes off Torkra. Torkra had heard elves speak before – a soft spoken flowing language that was too smooth on the ears for his liking. But the elf surprised him when it then addressed him in rough orcish.
"I am called Haelyth, and you are in my homeland." he began. "It seems no matter how many of you we drive back, you return to continue desecrating that which we hold most sacred," the night elf said looking up and down the line. Haelyth knelt in front of Torkra, returning his gaze to him. Torkra met it evenly. "I have killed many orcs and will not mourn the loss of a handful more. If you wish your passing to be swift, you will tell me why you were found so deep in the forest."
Torkra blinked. Did the night elves truly not know? Perhaps they had been so intent on containment they failed to realize the full extent to which the Horde was committing forces to the crisis of lumber shortage. Despite the deep wound in his chest from where he'd torn an arrow an hour ago, he chuckled. Then he realized the full extent of what the night elven ignorance was going to cost them and began outright laughing. The orcs beside him stared as if he'd gone mad while the night elves shared glances.
"Are you done?" Haelyth asked calmly when the orc finally succumbed to the stabbing pain and stopped himself. "Why were you found so far away from the lumber camp?" he repeated.
Torkra sat in silence for a moment, then decided it mattered little anymore. At this very moment the Horde army was preparing to move out from the northern barrens under cover of darkness and occupy as much of the forest as they could before the night elves realized their presence. He and his unit had been one of the many bands sent in before to distract the numerous stalkers and rangers the night elves had hidden throughout the forest. He had been skeptical of the plan but apparently it had worked. If the night elves didn't know now, they were too late to call for aid.
"We are a vanguard for the Horde army." Torkra told him simply, watching the eyes for any reaction. There were none.
"Is that so?" Haelyth asked, tone making it difficult to tell if he believed the orc or was merely humoring him. Torkra said nothing more, letting his statement sink into the night elves and uncertainty into their minds. "Why do you do this?" Haelyth asked softly, turning Torkra's attention back to him. "Is there no other way for your race to exist beyond complete destruction of the world around you?"
"My people need lumber." Torkra answered simply. It was logic, when someone needed something they go wherever they needed to get it.
"To fuel your machines of war and pillaging fires." Haelyth spat, now angry. "Outlands suited your kind well, orc. I fail to see why you saw fit to defile this world with your existence."
"Do you not build your homes from wood? Your cooking fires from tinder?" Torkra asked in response.
"My people replenish what we take, something you might learn from your tauren allies. We are in harmony with the forest." Haelyth answered. "You take, use, and take more."
"My people do not see the world as you do. We are not farmers or herbalists. We are warriors." Torkra justified. "We have a different way of living."
"Ways ill-suited for this world."
"Remove my bindings and I will show you how ill-suited our way of living is."
"I think not." Haelyth said, standing.
After a pause Haelyth picked up again. "If that is all then what remains is what to do with you. If you were to be allowed to live another day, would you continue to return to maim Azeroth's forests, burn our homes and slaughter our brethren?" he asked. A slight breeze swept through the clearing, catching a few strands of his long hair as the full moon shone brightly in the night sky above him.
"Every day I could pick up an axe." Torkra answered with no hesitation in his voice to the approving grunts from the orcs beside him.
"Your honor astounds me as it condemns you, for I know orcs to be a people of their word, as I am a man of mine." Haelyth nodded to someone behind Torkra.
Someone yanked his hair lifting his head up as he heard the sounds of gasps and gargled cries fill the clearing. A flash of steel passed below his chin. He didn't feel the blade but a slight tugging of his thick skin across his neck and the cascade of warmth that ran down his chest.
He slumped forward and hit the ground hard. The dirt horizontal with the sky began to stain darkly, seeping across his vision which was beginning to dim. So this was death. It was much quieter than any orc would have preferred. His breathing slowed and mind became fuzzy. He tried shaking his head to clear his dimming vision and blinked furiously to make out the forms of the orcs around him, but it darkened steadily as if the moon was going out.
A war horn blew in the distance. The deep sound resonated through the forest and even as he lay dying Torkra could feel the night elves grow instantly tense. It dawned on them that he had been truthful.
He could hear Haelyth barking orders to the elves around them before they began quickly dispersing.
Torkra tried making out words but couldn't tell over the distant familiar sounds of war if he made them out.
"For Thrall… For the Horde!"