Please review!

Oh, and sorry I've forgot the disclaimer, but it's obvious that I don't own Warcraft, or anything in it, or its world. I did create some characters, and other things to spice up the thing, and I am intent on changing the history of Azeroth.

*Thoughts* "Speech" [Spells]

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Howl of the Frostwolves:

Chapter Two - Preparations.

Snow fell on the blight... On the dark green blight, yet not covering all of it.

If one was to look from the dark red skies of Draenor that night to a Frostwolf encampment, he would see green Orcs, yet covered in white furs of the northern wolves. The Orcs have surrounded a majestic white hut of marble. Its entrance was a solid door of wood, with red symbols painted across it, and in the middle of the door, an ancient painting of a white wolf, with what seemed to be an Orc on it. It was decorated with ancient Orcish symbols, and on its roof, a banner with a white wolf's head on the black background. The head was surrounded by white circles - the flag was the symbol of the noble and shamanistic Frostwolf Clan.

The crowd consisted of almost all the members of the clan, yet surprisingly, it stood silently. The massive door slowly opened, and hit the wall of marble with a deafened thump. Out of it, went out three figures, one by one: an aged Orc in a white wolf hood with a red letter - "Horgar" (H) - on the very late wolf's forehead, an old yet beautiful brown- haired she-Orc in plate armor (with the symbol of the Frostwolf clan engraved on her breastplate), and a young Orc, also in a white wolf hood (yet braids of his black hair could be seen), and with a steel sabre, with words "Grok-har ubrek" on it's blade.

Durotan looked at his people, and he smirked with pride.

*They are my people! They will save the new world, and I must lead them to their, nay, OUR destiny!*

"My fellow Orcs! My fellow Frostwolves! Orcs and she-Orcs! Elders and Orclings!" - Elderly shaman's deep voice was full of confidence - "Some of you have heard rumors of the portal on Hellfire Peninsula, of a new world, and of us being amongst the ones to go through that portal! These rumors..."

Durotan heard whispers amongst his people. He smiled.

"...are true!" - He looked at the confused Orcs - "We are to prepare ourselves and our mounts, for tomorrow, we set of for Hellfire Citadel!"

Amount of whispers increased - the people failed at hiding their excitement, yet elders looked disturbed.

"We must also prepare for battle, however. But not against the locals! Gul'dan brought upon the corruption of countless millions of our people, but he doesn't want to stop just yet..." - Durotan looked rather grim right now, his wrinkled face was full of sorrow, which he skillfully hided until now - "He wants to corrupt this new, unspoiled world as well!"

Sounds of uproar came from the clan, louder and louder.

"My fellow Frostwolves! This is also an opportunity, for us to find the Habarouth! The chance to live in a world, still full of nature! Our entire clan must move there, to search for and find, Habarouth!" - Chieftain of the Frostwolves expressed his latest thoughts in these words - he indeed was sure that Habarouth of legends, the land, where grass was green, ground was brown, sky was blue, and mountains of snow stood, the land promised to Frostwolves according to an ancient legend lied in that new world.

"We must save Habarouth from Gul'dan's evil!" - A young voice cried out from behind the old Orc.

Durotan turned to the young warrior who stood right behind him.

"You are right, Greh'tor! That is our goal in the new world!" - Chieftain turned back to his people - "We all must depart tomorrow, and Gul'dan MUST NOT KNOW of our true goals! Gather all your belongings, and prepare for the long journey ahead of us!"

The Frostwolves cheered out to him, and to his two companions - his wife Draka, and his old friend's orphan, Greh'tor.

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Durotan walked back into his hut, which was rather modest in inside - he had wooden furniture, and his prized trophies and weapons, as well as his library, where various scrolls of knowledge, legends and nature lied.

He went towards his library, and raised a special scroll, which was placed away from the others.

*So this is the new beginning that was prophesized so long ago.*

He looked at the scroll. It was full of various Orcish letters, and in the middle of it, there was a symbol - a stone arch, with fire underneath it.

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Bearded face of the old Orc looked rather pleased. But fire, flame was in his red eyes! Flame of hatred.

He was approached by another Orc, but this one was different - he had dark green skin, yet his eyes. They were just like the warlock's eyes. He wore full mithril armor, as did the old warlock.

"Master Gul'dan!" - roared out the dark green Orc.

"What is it, my faithful servant?" - asked the warlock. His voice was grim, hiding his pleasure, as he already knew what just happened.

"The first scouts have been sent out through the portal!" - replied the warrior.

"Good, Megtern! Inform me when they return" - said Gul'dan.

"As you say, master" - Megtern walked away, nor fast, nor slow.

Gul'dan was alone again.

*Soon, our war of ascension will begin! And Ner'zhul will be stuck here in helpless situation. I have finally outsmarted you, mentor!*

On that last thought, Gul'dan laughed. What vile, maniacal laughter it was.