Renza'shi and Murk stood straight and tall in front of the grand warlock of Orgrimmar, though in the backs of their minds, they wanted nothing more than to hurry back out into the sunlight. It would figure that warlocks would have taken over the darkest, sketchiest part of the city. Just once, Renza'shi would like to see warlocks of the rainbow coven. Their enemies would be so stunned by a cheerful warlock that they'd probably die from shock, before the caster could even get a spell off.
The grand warlock inspected the documents that Murk had handed him, almost twenty minutes ago. So far, he hadn't said a word. Renza'shi was getting tired of standing around, and he wanted in the very least to set his two-hander down. He'd just gotten in a few days ago. Howl's smithing was renowned, and Renza'shi had been thrilled when Howl had agreed to take his order, agreeing that he could wait to pay for it once it was complete. However, when Renza'shi had returned for it, on the day Howl had specified, he'd been somewhat confused and insulted when one of Howl's former apprentices presented him a weapon instead. Howl hadn't even looked his way. The apprentice had apologized and explained that Howl was horribly busy and that Garrosh seemed to be applying more pressure daily to get the armor for his guard finished, like he thought that Howl was slacking off in some way.
Renza'shi had thanked the apprentice and gone on his way, but he wasn't sure that he really bought the orc's story. Was it really just because Howl was so busy, or was there some underlying meaning to the orc handing off his project?
The troll had to wonder if his axe were somehow cursed. By Howl or the grand warlock. While he could normally carry a weapon around for days while he traveled, standing in front of Orgrimmar's master of darkness for a mere twenty minutes had left his shoulders weak and him wondering if someone had added a few dozen weights to his weapon.
Finally, Renza'shi slipped the weapon off his back and went to set the large, two sided axe on the ground. However, no sooner had it made a soft, dull thud against the dusty earth, he felt eyes upon him and looked up to see that the grand warlock had turned his focus upon him. With a nervous twitch in his forced smile, Renza'shi lifted his axe back up and slung it back over his shoulder.
He'd never quite been able to grasp the concept of magic, and it made him somewhat uncomfortable. As a result, he tried not to piss off casters who were on his side and tried to kill enemy casters first.
Murk coughed into his hand, capturing the warlock's attention so as to help relieve his guild mate's unease. "Sir, we really just need a confirmation that you will deal with the—"
"You bring me a list of warlocks...in my coven...who are secretly dealing with the Alliance, and you think there is a chance I will do nothing to them? Do you think I am secretly working for the Alliance?"
Murk ducked his head in respect. "No, sir. Please forgive us if we seem to push the matter, but Hellscream wants verbal confirmation that matters will be dealt with swiftly. He doesn't want to leave behind any problems when he heads to Northrend."
The grand warlock's gaze dropped back toward the list. "And here I thought Taknar was your guild leader."
"We're all members of the Horde," Murk murmured, though he frowned when he noticed the grand warlock smirk and shake his head.
"I suppose the Horde is lucky to have such willing drones," the warlock smiled at both of them and then paused, his gaze moving past them. He checked the papers they'd give him and then walked past them, putting an arm around a young orc's shoulders who had just happened to have been walking by, and began to lead him deeper into the drag. "Gresh Darkblood, right? I'd like to talk to you about some of your achievements...in private, of course..."
Renza'shi and Murk watched as two other warlocks noticed the happenings and quick-stepped up to follow their leader, with the young traitor looking over his shoulder, with slight confusion as they led him away from prying eyes.
Renza'shi frowned. He was all for eliminating traitors, but this seemed low, even in his eyes. While he supposed that someone needed to weed out the disloyal and deal with them, he still didn't see why Blood and Honor had been chosen. Over the last few weeks, they'd been focusing their resources on looking into other guilds and organizations in the Horde, prying into private lives and sniffing out spies.
Anyone who had been reluctant to assist had been investigated as well. It made Renza'shi uncomfortable. He didn't like knowing how little privacy they had. At the single request of an orc who'd barely been in the Horde for a year, no less. Thrall was giving Hellscream too much power. Or did Thrall even know about this inquisition?
Murk let out a long sigh and turned his back on the Cleft. Like many, when the investigation had first been explained to them, he'd been honored to help keep Orgrimmar safe. However, when he'd learned just how far they had to go, how intrusive their searches really were, it had begun to weigh down on him. Even if they were finding a few spies here and there, was it really worth all this? Sneaking in the shadows, scrutinizing friends' actions, watching as people slowly put pieces together and began to avoid them. They might not know what the search was for, but people—Sham and Howl among others—knew that something was amiss and their conversations with anyone from Blood and Honor had become strained at best.
When all this passed, things could still return to how they'd been, couldn't they? The traitors would be dealt with, and everyone else would be able to return to their lives. Murk's shoulders sunk when he couldn't convince himself of this. He wanted to ask Renza'shi what he thought, but no one in Blood and Honor was daring to voice their concerns, lest it get back to Hellscream or Taknar. The last thing they needed was to be labeled as sympathizers to traitors.
The two had started walking, heading back toward the Drag. Their feet were willing to drag them by Whisper's Vials to see how Whisper and Impervious were doing, but as soon as their consciousness caught on, they'd end up just going back to their guild hall. It had been happening over and over the last few days. It felt wrong to go to their old hang outs, joke with anyone outside of their guild.
They felt like the traitors.
Both men stopped just short of the sunlight in the Drag as a hand took each of them by a shoulder. Renza'shi turned to see who it was first and paused, his expression tired. "Enlyhn."
Of all the guilds and such being investigated, he had a feeling Impervious would catch on first. He braced himself for accusations and curses, but Enlyhn merely frowned, darkness beginning to flicker around his hands. "Stick around. I need help summoning."
Murk glanced over his shoulder, not fully turning toward him. "Can't you get someone from your coven?"
"Some matters have risen in the cleft, and it would be better not to summon anyone down there until everything's been dealt with."
Renza'shi and Murk exchanged a wary look, though they agreed to help. As the summons circle faded, they stared at the two goblins at their feet, mildly perplexed that Enlyhn would summon neutral creatures to Orgrimmar. Enlyhn arched his eyebrows as he looked at the slightly taller of the goblins, a mage with a huge chunk missing out of one of his ears. Dried blood still spattered his robes, and they could see a few places where he had been cut. He was ladled down with bags, fine cloths and other random artifacts sticking out from the tops of the satchels, some of which looked ready to burst at their seams. The other goblin, a priest, was carrying hardly anything.
"Damn, Sprocket. What happened to you?"
"Those damn Alliance bastards, that's what!" the goblin snapped, pointing a finger up at him as though he'd had something to do with it. "This world is goin' crazy! They attack me in my own damn shop and then..." He paused and looked over at the goblin priest beside him.
"They burned down my tavern," Tizzle murmured, looking toward the ground. "Wrachette didn't make it."
Enlyhn stared at the duo's downcast faces and then frowned. "Wrachette's already here. I summoned her three days ago."
"What?" Both goblins cried out, eyes snapping up.
"She said she left you a note, though I suppose you wouldn't get it if the tavern burned down..." Enlyhn muttered, rolling one of his shoulders. "She's probably at Whisper's Vials, if not, Cinder will know where she is."
"Cinder's back?" Sprocket asked, already perking up. Tizzle, on the other hand, seemed lost to shock. His sister was alive. He'd spent the last seventy-two hours tearing Booty Bay apart looking for any sign of her before finally giving up and accepting that she was gone, that he'd failed her.
And she was alive?
He was gonna murder her for leaving without so much as a goodbye.
Enlyhn shifted his weight and nudged Tizzle with his foot. "Why don't you ask these two to show you to the shop? I need to go do horrible things to morally skewed individuals."
"Ah, sure..." Sprocket said, grabbing Tizzle by the arm and turning him to face Renza'shi and Murk. However, before he could offer a proper introduction, Enlyhn coughed into his hand, and the goblins looked back up at him.
"Buffs. I didn't summon you for nothing."
"Yeah, yeah, Light be with ya," Tizzle snapped hurriedly, finally drawing himself out of his stupor. He threw his hands in the air and everyone within a twenty-yard radius found themselves suddenly filled with a sense of holy Light, fortifying their wills and consciences. Enlyhn's eyebrow twitched as he crushed down the little voice in the back of his head trying to tell him to be merciful to the victims of whatever witch hunt was going on in his coven and gave them a half wave as he walked off.
Renza'shi and Murk stared blankly after him before they felt two gazes boring into them and looked back down at the goblins. Both stood with their arms crossed. The mage inspected them more carefully than the priest, taking note of their gear. "Ya two in a war guild?"
"Talk and walk, friends." Tizzle snapped before they could respond. "We ain't gettin' any closer ta Whisper's Vials." Though Renza'shi wanted to chase down Enlyhn and have him take care of the goblins, Murk merely motioned down the road and began to lead the way. Renza'shi followed after them, for lack of anything to do. After all, a report that the warlocks were having a field day on each other could wait.
Tizzle eyed the different buildings they passed, reading the signs hanging over them under his breath, his mouth forming a thin line whenever he wasn't mumbling. Renza'shi had nearly zoned out when he felt a large hand tug his own. Tizzle was scurrying along beside him, taking three steps for every one of the troll's. Renza'shi was amazed the little creature wasn't tired out already and wondered if he ought to tell Murk to slow the pace.
"So...ya in a war guild, huh?" When Renza'shi nodded, Tizzle thought it over. "I thought all them guilds were war ones."
"Ah, nah mon." Renza'shi shrugged. "War guilds be focusin' on fightin' de Alliance. Otha guilds fight enemies that not claim one of de main factions. Dea be all kinds, t'ough."
"There's a guild of individuals who focus on working the auction house," Murk offered. "Some of the richest people in Orgrimmar are in it, though they don't ever venture far beyond the city's gates."
Sprocket and Tizzle exchanged a glance before Sprocket tilted his head back to meet Murk's gaze. "Ya gotta hook me up with them, yeah? Maybe we can be of use to each other."
Renza'shi cocked his head. "Ya lookin' fa a guild—"
"I'm a foundin' member of Impervious," Tizzle snapped, and both Murk and Renza'shi looked down at him in surprise. "What ya think a goblin can't be Horde?" Tizzle stuck his chin out, though he nearly tripped over his robes as he tried to look proud. He caught himself and glared at his feet before shrugging. "Sprocket here's in Impervious, too. But me and Wrachette? Ya can check the guild charter...if the Alliance can find our charter, I'm sure ya can, too."
Both Murk and Renza'shi stopped in their tracks, despite the desperate glares from the little priest at their feet. "What?"
"Ya guys should be watchin' ya backs, too, I suppose," Sprocket offered, pointing up at them. "If they can get ta Impervious' information, they can get ta ya guild's too. And since ya guys are fightin' them, I bet they pay more attention ta ya than they did us."
"Oh, yeah," Tizzle spat. "'Cause nearly murderin' ya and destroyin' my livelihood was just a glance for them, right?" Tizzle rolled his eyes. "Ya guys fight a lot a rogues?"
"Killed meh share," Renza'shi shrugged while Murk merely nodded.
"Think we could hire ya ta go after a specific one?" Tizzle asked. "Sprocket here can describe him. He came snoopin' around first, and then the rest of the Alliance decided we weren't 'choosin'' sides fast enough and wham!"
Sprocket reached up and rubbed his ear. "If we'd a stayed long enough for an investigation, they woulda kicked us out of the Cartel. So we're officially Horde now. Bit of a shame, really. Used ta be able to give ya guys a heads up if the Alliance were talking about raidin' one of the cities. I suppose ya guy's will manage on ya own, though."
As Tizzle scanned the street again, he narrowed his eyes, looking ahead. Of all the goblins he knew, he'd always had the best eye sight, and it was times like this when he truly appreciated it. He could just make out an alchemy shop sign a few blocks down, with what he was fairly certain spelled out Whisper's Vials on it, one word above and one below the picture.
Deciding the others could stand around and talk, or follow, he began toward it. Sprocket shifted a few of his bags and began to teeter after his guild mate. Murk reached a hand down toward him. "Do you need a hand? That looks heavy—"
"If I'd needed a pack mule, I woulda brought one," Sprocket snapped, eyeing the orc's hand as it came too close to his belongings.
Renza'shi pulled Murk back as they drew closer to the shop. With a quick nod of respect, he addressed the two goblins who eyed him with skeptical curiosity as he continued to draw Murk away. "Ah tink we gonna look inta dat rogue for ya, yeh? 'N ya can see de shop from hea, so..."
"Right!" Sprocket nodded, giving them a half grin. "Ya guys work fast. I like it. Let us know if ya find that bastard."
"Screw findin' him," Tizzle crossed his arms. "Let us know when ya kill him."
Murk frowned and jerked his arm free from his guild mate's grasp, though after a quick glare from Renza'shi, he followed after the troll in silence. At first, he thought they were heading back to their guild hall, however, when they came to the corner they would have turned to head toward it, Renza'shi went straight, instead slipping between two buildings across the way. When they were in the shadows, he climbed up a few stacked crates and offered Murk a hand in climbing up onto the roofs of the buildings.
From there, they followed along the wall until they came to a small chasm, just barely big enough for the two of them to squeeze into. It was thin, but wound its way several yards into the rock before coming to an end. Murk let out an exasperated sigh as his guild mate began to climb the wall, wondering just what was going on that they needed to go to such drastic measures.
The wall proved to have been carved with notches at even intervals, allowing for easy climbing. When they reached the top, Renza'shi stretched his back and then dropped down to the ground, legs crossed.
They'd come up to one of the flat, barren plateaus surrounding Orgrimmar, and Murk could smell the ocean air as a breeze swept past them, kicking up dirt as it tugged mercilessly on the scraggly plants around them.
Renza'shi looked around them with simple satisfaction. "When Org was first bein' built, me 'n meh brotha found de way up hea. We used ta come up hea all de time...den de stores got built t'rough de Drag 'n meh brotha got killed 'n Ah kinda forgot dis place existed, yeh? But it be good for tinkin'. Good for talkin'."
Murk sat across from him, tugging at the wrinkles in his kilt. "So talk."
"About what de goblins been sayin'," Renza'shi hesitated, looking down as he rested his hands on his knees. "Ya know Ah die for de Horde, yeh?"
"As would I."
Twisting his mouth into a frown, his cheek twitched as part of the skin caught on what was left of his tusks. He'd tried to file down what was left so that it wouldn't spike him, and he'd done a decent job, but it still sometimes caught him off guard. He'd tried to have them completely removed once, but his friend, who had offered to help him, had startled him, and he'd accidentally bitten down on the other troll's fingers.
Less than a week later, someone else had scolded him, asking him how he was gonna close his jaw properly if he were missing all of his tusks. It had been a valid point, and as a result, he'd left the stubs in, if only to keep his jaws working properly.
"Lisp volunteered ta look inta Impervious, since he used ta be one of dem, yeh?" When Murk nodded, he ran his fingers through his hair. "'n rememba how he got that trinket? De one dat make him look like he be a breathin' human?"
"The orb of deception?" Murk remembered it well. They'd been traveling through Desolace when they'd come to the aid of an injured orcess, only to find that she was really a human in disguise. After killing her, Murk had been ready to destroy the orb when Lisp had stopped him, pointing out that there could be uses for such a trinket. Though Murk loathed the thought of using trickery to win a battle, he also knew that winning a war took all kinds. He couldn't assume that Lisp was less of a hero of the Horde, just because he thought differently. So he'd let him take the trinket.
On occasion, Lisp had used it, sneaking into enemy lines in the Arathi Basin, promising to secure an area by himself or with a lone healer only to dispatch them as soon as the other Alliance was out of range to rush back and save their comrade. However, he couldn't use such tricks too often, for the Alliance did learn from their mistakes. He'd nearly been killed once when none of the Alliance dogs could remember seeing him when they were first gathering and planning.
Murk paused. "You think Lisp would attack those goblins?"
"Nah mon," Renza'shi waved his hand quickly. "Not like dat. Dey said dea been a rogue come first, den otha Alliance act aftawa'ds, yeh? Ah tink Lisp started sumtin' wit' out realizin' what."
Murk considered what had happened. Would Lisp really threaten members of his former guild, just to get them to declare a side once and for all? And would he really be careless enough to let their enemies over hear his threats, unwittingly outing the covert Horde members to the Alliance?
"You brought me all the way up here, just to say that?" Murk furrowed his brow, the corners of his mouth dipping down.
"Ah didn't want 'nehone eavesdroppin'," Renza'shi muttered. He hesitated and slouched his shoulders forward, leaning toward Murk. "'n Ah was wonderin' if...if it happened like dat ta dem goblins, how many otha Hordes' lives been put in danga by dis inquireh, yeh? How maneh a dem maybe pretend ta give information ta de Alliance so dat dey can get info on de enemeh. Maybe we be doin' more bad den good."
"I've been wondering that myself," Murk whispered.
~"~
Both Renza'shi and Murk trudged toward their guild hall, their feet seemingly made of lead. While it was refreshing to know that they weren't alone in thinking something amiss with their whole ordeal, it was also disheartening to know that it hadn't just been in their heads.
As they continued down the street, someone flew into Murk, nearly toppling him over. When he managed to catch himself, he turned in time to see Mitchell as the meek mage jerked his bag back onto his shoulder and inspected the contents inside, hurrying away and cursing about something getting jostled.
"Ya be okay?" Renza'shi called out, instinctively more so than anything else, expecting a quick 'I'm fine', if anything at all.
Mitchell, however, stopped dead in his tracks and looked up. As he noticed their curious stares, he snapped his satchel shut and straightened up out of the typical forsaken hunch, his eyebrows pulled down in what might have been a glare, had they been able to see his eyes.
"Why wouldn't I be okay?"
Renza'shi blinked, slightly taken aback. "Just saw ya lookin' worried 'n t'ought Ah'd ask—"
"About what?" Mitchell hissed, clawing at his bag and holding it to his chest. "There's nothing wrong. I'm a damned apothecary in the Society so if I want to use those resources, I'm welcome to them!"
"O…kay, mon."
Mitchell muttered something under his breath and started to walk away, but paused and abruptly turned back to them, stalking up to stand in front of them so that he could poke his finger accusingly into Renza'shi's chest. "I'm tired of all of you guys asking me questions! The death stalkers first, now Blood and Honor? I shouldn't need to start every conversation saying that I work for the Dark Lady, got it? I am a loyal minion!"
Renza'shi and Murk were at a loss for words. Had Lisp simply gone around offending or attacking everyone in his old guild?
Mitchell threw his hands up in the air as he turned to walk away. "Next you'll be accusing me of blowing up the apothecary lab...that was Calvin, in case you need clarification."
Murk and Renza'shi stared after the spastic mage as he practically ran from them toward the flightmaster. Just as the two were about ready to brush off the odd encounter, Margaret jogged up to them, waving her arms to get their attention. "Have you seen Mitchell? I know he came this way." As the two pointed over their shoulders, she offered them a quick nod, but paused, just before passing them. With narrowed eyes, she caught them both in a frost nova. "If I find out either of you or anyone in Blood and Honor had anything, and I mean anything, to do with destroying Mitchell's cauldron, I will have myself a Light-damned flock of sheep, do you hear me? Mitchell was working really hard, and there was no reason to ruin his experiments!"
With that, she raced off after Mitchell.
Renza'shi stared after Margaret, his expression blank. "De hell be goin' on in dat guild?"
Murk merely shook his head, grumbling about people acting crazy since the ghoul attack.
When they finally made it back to their guild hall, doing their best to ignore the few glares from other denizens of Orgrimmar, they found the place to be empty. With a sigh, Murk strode toward the back of the hall and rummaged through a shelving unit until he found some spare parchment. He fumbled through his bags without looking until he found his quill and then turned to go to the nearest table to write Taknar a letter about how the traitors among the warlocks were being dealt with. His intention had been to leave the note and persuade Renza'shi to head to a warfront with him so that neither of them would get roped into anymore tasks for Hellscream's pet project.
However, as he turned, barely registering that Renza'shi was inspecting their guild's message board for upcoming battles, he paused. He was certain that the hall had been empty when they'd arrived, but sitting at the center most table was Haa'aji, his fingers clasped and resting on his stomach as his feet rested against the table, his chair standing on its back two legs and creaking softly.
Renza'shi heard the rogue chuckle and turned quickly, hand on his axe. Haa'aji didn't even look toward the other troll. Instead he kept his eyes locked on Murk. While he had a pleasant smile playing on his lips, there was a harshness in his eyes that made Murk uneasy.
"Aftanoon, gentamen," Haa'aji said, as though he were merely bumping into them on the street. "Don't suppose eitha a ya have seen Lisp around lateleh?"
Murk stopped on the opposite side of the table, though he made no attempt to sit down. He wanted to ask what Haa'aji was doing there, though he had a damned decent idea why. Besides, Haa'aji had a tendency of not answering questions, anyway. "I'll tell him you stopped by."
"No need," Haa'aji shrugged. He inspected Murk and then nodded toward him with his chin. "So what be de deal, yeh? Ya weedin' out de baddies?"
"We really can't talk about guild matters with—"
"So don't be talkin' den," Haa'aji interrupted. "But lissen. If ya be followin' theories 'n de like, what ya be doin' is great. Howeva, ya bein' too obvious. Ya got some people who be spies, some who pretend, yeh? Ya leavin' de pretends alone 'n just takin' out de real spies...fa de most part. In meh guild's case, ya actualleh incited Alliance agressions toward de membas dat been vital to some of our intel gatherin', but we work t'rough it. We adapt. Ah be worried about de less adaptable guilds...'n de Horde as a whole."
Murk frowned and finally took a seat. "What do you want us to do? Kill people loyal to the Horde?"
"If ya realleh wanna keep ya cova from bein' blown, dat'd be a start. But, nah. Ah be talkin' simpla. Ya gotta leave some a de bad ones. Otha wise, dem Alliance gonna figure out ya on to dem 'n dey gonna start burnin' a spies."
"Well, t'ank ya fa ya input, but Ah tink Takna undastand wat he be doin'," Renza'shi hissed. "Ya need meh ta show ya out?"
"Ah didn't tink ya'd lissen, 'n as Ah recall, Takna's even more stubborn den ya be." Haa'aji swung his feet off the table and stretched his back as he turned and sauntered toward the door.
As he neared the door, Renza'shi kicked the floor. "Ya don' even know wat ya be talkin' about, 'neway..."
"Ah been back fa a day, mon. Ya realleh tink it take me dat long ta figure out what be goin' on here?" With a grin on his face, Haa'aji looked back at them and motioned with his head toward the road. "Oh, Ah tink dey been wantin' ta talk ta ya at Whispa's Vials, yeh? Ah wouldn't keep dem waitin'. Was real impa'tant."
Renza'shi scoffed as Haa'aji's back disappeared through the doorway, though his jaw dropped when Murk walked past him toward the door. "De hell ya be goin'?"
"I'd like to at least see what they wanted to talk to us about. If it's related to what the guild's been doing, we can tell them we don't know or can't say, but if not...maybe they wanted to talk about something else."
Renza'shi scowled, but trotted after Murk. "Haa'aji be full a shit, yeh? Ah bet dey didn't even ask for us."
Merely laughing off his friend's foul disposition, Murk walked into the street, looking over at Renza'shi as the troll matched pace with him. "You know, I've been meaning to ask, but why do you and Haa'aji hate each other so—"
Before he could finish his statement, an explosion caught both of them off guard and sent them flying faces first into the dusty street. As they coughed up dirt, Murk looked back over his shoulder, eyes wide. Smoke and flames still licked the edges of the doorway, and numerous holes that pocked their guild hall's walls.
"Dat son of a bitch," Renza'shi whispered, eyes glued to the burning building behind them.
Murk couldn't look away, either. If they'd been a few seconds slower…he couldn't even finish the thought.
"You don't think Haa'aji could have really..."
"Ya know he did," Renza'shi spat as he pushed himself up. "'n ya know we ain't neva gonna be able ta prove it, eitha."
~"~
Grunts were hurrying down the street, away from the hold where Thrall and his most trusted advisors had been reviewing their plans for Northrend. Garrosh and a few others had hurried to the entrance when they'd heard the explosion and, even blocks away, they could see the smoke billowing up from where Blood and Honor's guild hall stood. In all the chaos, only one orc kept heading toward the hold.
Garrosh narrowed his eyes and stormed out to meet Gore, blocking his path as he scowled. "Do you even know what happens to this city? Right under your nose?"
Gore stared back at Garrosh evenly. "Why don't you tell me?"
At a loss for words, namely because of how much calmer the orc seemed in compared to the first time he'd accused him of failing the Horde, Garrosh pointed toward the smoking ruins.
With a glance over his shoulder, Gore shrugged. "I guess whoever's in charge of Orgrimmar's security should look into that."
"How dare you act so—"
"Understand something, mag'har," As Garrosh tried to grip Gore's shoulder, the old warrior jerked his arm away and pointed toward the entrance of the hold, where Thrall and Vol'jin stood, already receiving reports on the matter from a few grunts who had been sent for help in extinguishing the flames. "My warchief is standing over there. You mean nothing to me."
Garrosh felt like he'd been slapped in the face and stood in a stunned silence as Gore walked away from him and up to Thrall, pulling out a small envelope and handing it to the warchief. He saluted and then nodded to the nearest grunt, calling for someone to give him a bucket of water so that he could help. The once great commander of Orgrimmar's defenses disappeared so easily into the crowd, as though he had never held a title in his life.
As Thrall read over the letter he'd received, Garrosh managed to gather his senses and stalked over to him, incredulous. However, before he could ask how he could help—as much as it stung to have been spurned so, he often felt the outsider when walking through Orgrimmar's streets, and was desperate not to linger on such feelings—Thrall looked up at him, brow furrowed.
"You've been conducting searches in the Horde...for Alliance sympathizers and spies?"
Garrosh squared his shoulders and nodded once. Thrall took in a slow, measured breath. "I understand your desire to be a part of this place. And I understand that you would do most anything to protect the Horde. But please do not go behind my back in such a manner again. I know how to lead our people."