*Thoughts* "Speech" [Spells] 'Sounds'

Disclaimer: I still don't own anything apart from some of descriptions, memories, lines, and Greh'tor with Mer'shorn. The same goes for Yiriks, Megtern and Heth'nor Snakejaw. The rest is owned by Blizzard.

Randh13th: Oh, but this story is going to be an alternative history! Meaning that at some point, the story and the plot will go different from the real one!

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Howl of the Frostwolves:

Chapter Nine: Emerald Green.

They were waiting. They were impatient. The demonic army was imposing indeed... Yet there is one, of whom even they feared. The demons always denied that, yet Gul'dan was aware of it...

"You fear me, as you do not know me..." - proclaimed the hooded figure.

Gul'dan was silent, as in his dreamlike state, he penetrated the border between the realms of dead and living.

"Let me show you my world..."

Suddenly, Gul'dan realized that he heard that before... It was déjà vu of sorts... But a dream repeating a previous dream?!

"Let me show you my world..." - Medivh's voice repeated as the silhouette slowly faded out...

"Let-let me-me show-show you-you my-my world-world!" - His echo followed.

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Gul'dan slowly opened his eyes, and begun to rise from his bed of stone as the sun rose over his "citadel", and his quarters.

"You had shown me you world, Medivh!" - he replied.

*No, Gul'dan. He had only shown it to you in the vision! You will go there, yourself, today!*

The Master of the Warlocks smirked, and then let out his laughter, weak at first.

*Yes, yes. Soon, I will walk their world, and I shall claim it for the Horde. And by that... I shall claim it... for MYSELF!*

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The rift of flame has closed any vision of what was behind the arch. And to add to its picture of eternal flame, the fiery sun of Draenor was up. One by one, the greenskin clans marched through.

First marched through the mithril-clad Warriors of the Burning Blade, only their heads not covered in armor. Each of them had a wooden banner attached to his back plates, a banner of an Orcish katana ablaze.

Then marched through the mighty armies of the Twilight Hammer, and their gargantuan leader as well. None of them were on wolfback.

All the Orcs were startled by the fact that Heth'nor Snakejaw and Gul'dan the Warlock have been missing, only a few knowing the truth, which was that they went through the portal earlier.

But no one apart from them knew of their intentions...

Next marched the dark-green Yiriks, clad in armors of steel, and bearing might axes, warhammers and swords. Both the Yiriks and the Blademasters of the Blade neglected ever using any shields, in difference from the most clans.

After them, rode the famous wolf riders of the North - the Frostwolves, amongst the last followers of the Old ways, as Shamanism was known amongst Gul'dan's and Ner'zhul's followers. They rode on white wolves, never seen in the rest of Draenor. Much of them relied on their agility and mastery, not on armor. As for weapons, they had scimitars, yatagans, sabers and amongst the richer and nobler of them, katana blades.

In their front, rode Durotan, his scimitar held up against the air. By his side, rode the tall champion, Mer'shorn, his wife, Draka, and the ever- present adopted son, Greh'tor.

Durotan seemed fully awake, yet he, as always was lost in his thoughts, when his wolf stopped. He barely held himself in the saddle.

"Shnogar!" - The shaman let out a yell of anger - "Ride forth! Hiya!"

After hesitating at first, the massive white-furred giant jumped forth into the rift of flame, and disappeared silently. Shnogar's and Durotan's examples were followed by the rest of the noble clan of the white banner.

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Durotan closed his eyes as he was surrounded by the flames of the rift. He felt extreme dizziness, and held his breath.

Finally, he felt a powerful push, and then he opened his eyes. And the first thing he noticed wasn't the blue skies, or the resting greenskins from the other clans. Nay, it was the green grass that caught his attention.

As his wolf gently landed, he continued to stare for some later moments.

*So I was right! Habarouth is indeed close! So close... I can almost feel it!*

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