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

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

This is a bonus chapter, to encourage reviews. And it is also the last one I will give you without reviews! So REVIEW after your read!

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Howl of the Frostwolves:

Chapter Ten: The Council of the Frostwolves.

Dusk fell over the lush grasslands. By now, the territory around the Dark Portal - that was how the rift was secretly labeled amongst the Frostwolf warriors - was divided between the clans, and crude temporary settlements were built.

The Frostwolf settlement was richly decorated already - with shamanistic symbols, ancient paintings and hieroglyphs, and of course wolf-furs of their dead comrades and of the prey in a hunt. Their "tents" were primitive dwellings cowered in tree bark.

The Orcs still had hard time getting used to green grass, blue skies (that now were dark-blue instead of blood-red of Draenor), and the blue water in the small creek.

As Greh'tor, Mer'shorn, Durotan, Draka and several others have gathered in Durotan's tent, covered in bark and frost wolf fur, even through Durotan began to realize that there won't be much frost wolves in these lands - but still, a symbol of his authority was needed. Out of its rooftop, a banner of the Frostwolves, white wolf's head on red also marked Durotan's importance.

In the tent, around a small fire, sitting were the elders of the Clan, the young warrior and Durotan's adopted son Greh'tor, and the Frostwolf Champions, Mer'shorn and Nazgrel, chieftain's wife, Draka, and of course, Durotan, the Shaman, the Elder, the Chieftain of the Frostwolf Clan.

And so the council began, to be remembered forever.

"My fellow Orcs of the Frostwolf Clan, we have traveled far away from our homes. And this, this has to be the Borderland of Habarouth! We must seek the Promised Land, yet now, I also see we must also save it from Gul'dan." - The present in the tent were untouched by the message of the possibility of a war between Gul'dan and Durotan - they all already of all Durotan knew - or at lest told -"But we are too few to fight them ourselves. Does anyone has an idea as to what we must do?"

*The question is mostly rhetorical.* - smirked Greh'tor as his father. no, no, Durotan, Chieftain of the Frostwolf Clan made his speech.

"We obviously need to find a dominant race in here. or at least any sentient being apart from us for that matter" - the oldest of the Elders, Drek'thar spoke slowly, and despite his basically broken physical form, his voice was still full of power. A lot of people thought it was a spell. The oldest shaman turned to the chieftain, once his eager learner - "Chieftain Durotan" - he sayed with great power coming from his voice - "In my opinion, we must send some scouts to the north, the west, the south, and the east."

Durotan's mentor received numerous nods of agreement.

"Very well" - replied Durotan, without much hesitation - "through there is not much to the south, where the Burning Blade and the clan less reside"

Greh'tor chuckled at the mentioning of the latter - "The clan less are not much, but then, each warrior of the Blade has a large territory for himself, so south is out."

"The same is for the west" - replied a guttural voice coming from a white- bearded Orc, relatively young for an Elder, who sat in a corner - "and what little land is there, Bleeding Hollow is settled there."

"Well then" - a moaning voice implied - "I will go to the North with the scouts."

"Do you control the elements, or have some other power?" - Durotan wasn't just going to let an Elder, or just any old Orc, go with a dangerous scouting party.

"I have my trusted Katana!" - replied the discolored old Orc, most likely over Durotan's age - "And I need not anything else!"

"Kigami!" - Mer'shorn tried to hold him back - "Surely you notice that..."

"No, boy, I already lived long enough time" - whoever was called Kigami seemed confident.

Durotan has noticed something strange between Mer'shorn and the aged blademaster. The blademaster that he didn't notice much of - or didn't remember.

"My time for fighting is long over, but know this, lad: I want to experience a battle again!" - continued Kigami.

The elders begun to whisper among themselves in discontent, and Durotan was confused, not knowing what to do. Luckily, Drek'thar decided to quickly solves the problem: "I think it is best for Kigami to go in a battle, if he wishes so, but in charge of his group, shall be Mer'shorn"

Durotan chuckled.

*A wise plan again, mentor. Whatever there is between Mer'shorn and Kigami, it can be used well.*

"And I shall go to the east!" - declared the young voice of Greh'tor, who previously was watching the discussion from a corner.

"If that is your wish." - The shaman-chieftain felt uneasy all of the sudden - "your training as a warrior and a leader is long complete, so we should put it to good use" - Durotan chuckled again.

"I will not fail you." - promised Greh'tor, as he slowly walked towards the fire.

"I know you won't..." - Durotan stood up and sighed. He understood that he would miss his foster son.

"I also accept the command!" - exclaimed Mer'shorn, slightly embarrassed by the previous scene.

"Then tomorrow, you all shall depart, with the chosen warriors of the clan!" - the discussion was closed by Durotan.

"Then let us get on to the matter of settling in this... strange new land." - added Drek'thar.

Greh'tor sat down between his foster parents, as Drek'thar explained the uneasiness of some of the Orcs, as well as of their frost wolf mounts, despite the fact that Greh'tor's mind was somewhere else, somewhere far away, as he already begun to imagine his adventures.

Durotan just smirked, as he saw the blank look in his adopted son's face.

*He is still so young, so naive... And he is basically a son to me - not born to Draka and I, but raised and trained by us*

Then the shaman saddened.

*I hope nothing bad happens to him...* - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

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