Disclaimer: I do not own WOW. If I did, I wouldn't be writing this.
Chapter 1: The Wanderer
At first glance, the land of Durotar seems uninhabitable. A great, seemingly barren wasteland of dusty crags, windswept plains, and yawning canyons baked by sweltering heat would cause many travelers to simply look away, searching for safer passage to the northern regions of Kalimdor. Added to the dangers from harpies, scorpions, and the vicious and feral Quillboars, and many wonder who would consider this sandy place an area to settle.
However, those who would scoff at this place would not recognize it for its unique beauty. The brutal sun, hot enough to bake a man in his own skin at its zenith, cast a blood-red glow over the land at dusk, bleeding away to a ruby-red haze just before twilight. The canyons and caverns, those free of harpy infestation, provide a quiet refuge for travelers to sit and meditate in silence, secluded away from the tribulations of the outside world. At the Southern end, a short sail distant from the coastline are the tropical Echo Isles, as beautiful as they are dangerous, though the latter is easily manageable to a skilled warrior. But all these pale in comparison to the settlement at the northern tip of Durotar. A mighty fortress city, a testament to one race's savage and indomitable cunning and determination to survive and thrive against all odds.
Orgrimmar, the Great Capital City of the Orcish Horde.
Though seemingly of crude construction, there was a rugged beauty in the architecture, reflecting the rugged beauty of the Orcs' new homeland. Great animal tusks protruded from large huts and sheds, where animal skins stretched tightly over the roofs, protecting the inhabitants from the harsh desert sun. The clang of battle echoed through the canyon stretching the length of the city, while grunts and howls of triumph and encouragement could be discerned over the almost constant ringing sound of iron clashing against steel. The Orcish race was one built upon combat, honor, personal pride and valor. It was very rare for one who was not of Orcish descent to be seen within the city, although any who were allies of the Horde were welcome within the safety of Orgrimmar.
So it was with a great deal of surprise, (and no small amount of open hostility,) that the lone figure approaching the great wall of Orgrimmar was looked upon with distrust. Some of the older Orcs, those who were not moving slowly towards their weapons, were nearing laughing to themselves at the strange events that were unfolding. The figure moving rapidly closer to the walls appeared to be a human.
The human moved with a long, loping stride, as if he had all the time in the world. His white tunic was tinged with the reddish-brown sand of the desert, but it dulled in contrast to the long, pristinely white cape which wrapped around his form, ending in a scarf which covered the majority of his face. Though no weapons could be visibly seen on the stranger, he carried a staff which matched his height, which from a distance was well over six feet. Atop this staff, briskly flapping in the strong wind, a white flag signaled his intention.
Truce, and peace.
Many of the orcs stationed at the ramparts of the wall, most of them young and eager for action, were ready to strike down the stranger where he stood, while the older veterans waited for the events to play out, ready at a seconds notice to spring into action should this become a trap. However, the white-robed form strode calmly to the Gates of Orgrimmar, and stopped several feet before the two powerful guards. Though the orcs great broad forms dwarfed the human, he was tall, lean, and carried an aura of dominance. He lifted his face, all but his eyes shrouded by the white cape. He looked at the orc guards with eyes devoid of fear, and they glowed like amber jewels.
"Greetings, and good day to you, noble defenders of Durotar." The voice was deep, yet smooth and firm, carrying weight but not hostility. Few humans knew the name of the Orcish homeland, and few who did chose to return. "I have journeyed far to speak to your leader, the Warchief Thrall. I come bearing news of great importance."
The two orcs at the gate, whose names were Torgan and Kazuk, eyed the strange man warily. Torgan was younger, an orc possessing great physical strength, even for an orc. He was visibly fingering the large, double-bladed axe he wore at his left side, which for him, could easily be wielded in one hand. Kazuk was an older veteran, who looked on at the stranger with distrust in his eyes. While his hands clenched tighter about his great obsidian-tipped spear, he made no hostile move toward the white figure.
'Your kind is not welcome in orc lands, human," Torgan growled, his distaste clearly evident. He was appalled and outraged that the old enemies of the Horde would have the audacity to even enter Durotar, let alone come so close to the capital city. "You have half a breath to turn around and run away before my axe cleaves you in two!"
"I did not come here to fight, my good orc. I came here to inform, and perhaps benefit." The voice did not display the slightest fear or apprehension. However, Kazuk thought he heard the slightest edge of impatience, or was it desperation?
"My younger friend is right, and you have no place in Durotar, human," Kazuk interjected, sending a glance in Torgan's direction. "However, I am curious how you know about our city, and the name of our leader, and am more interested in knowing how you came here, through the Orcs that I myself have patrolling our land?"
The human's eyes lifted in what seemed like a smile, but he said nothing.
"Answer, you weakling!" Torgan roared, brandishing the huge axe.
"Enough Torgan!" shouted Kazuk, sending a smoldering glare at the younger orc. Torgan bristled, but begrudgingly lowered his axe, continuing to glare at the white-robed figure. Keeping his eye on Torgan and the stranger, Kazuk continued.
"Your kind is not welcome among us."
"I know"
"Then why have you come, knowing you would be refused?"
"I cannot tell you."
"Then you cannot enter."
"I will tell all once I have spoken to the Warchief."
"How do I know you are not an assassin, sent by the humans to murder our leader?"
"I can only give you my word that I am not." replied the stranger, his tone quiet yet calm, almost conversational. Kazuk began to grow tired of this bizarre individual's evasive answers.
"Listen well, Human." Kazuk's voice took on a dangerous edge. "This is our city, an Orc city. You are greatly outnumbered and in a place where you should have already been dead. Either you tell me your business now, or I will let my young friend deal with you in his own way. Do not test my patience."
The human continued to gaze at the older orc, his amber gaze never leaving the orc's black eyes. "I come with news of the Demons, and a plan which involves the orcs"
"Demons?" exclaimed Torgan, his tone filled with disgust and disbelief. The only demons he had fought were the grells and Felhounds populating the wilderness. While fierce, they were nothing that the greater population of Orgrimmar needed to worry about. A mere handful of his own warriors could handle them in large groups of twenty or less.
"Yes, demons, and ones not to be scoffed at."
"We have our own way of dealing with demons stranger. I fought against the Burning Legion at Mt. Hyjal." Kazuk said. "What is so important that a human needs to speak with the Warchief? And what is this 'plan' you speak of?"
"I can say no more, only that the Warchief must know of the news I bring."
"Give me one reason to let you in!" roared Kazuk, ready now to beat Torgan to the event of silencing this annoying man in white.
The stranger looked at them both calmly, his amber gazed moving from Torgan to the older orc. Kazuk almost thought he saw sorrow in the golden eyes. He spoke one word that echoed in Kazuk's mind, and shook his warrior's soul.
"Kil'jaeden"
Kazuk glared long and hard at the human, a grim expression etched upon his scarred face. Then he turned around and beckoned to his comrade.
"Follow us. We will take you to the Warchief."
Chapter 1 finished. Hey that sounded pretty good if I do say so myself. But I'm biased so I can't say that with any real feeling. Anyway, this is my first fic on this site, and my first WOW story as well. Reviews welcome, and much appreciated. The story is too young to send flames, but if you do, I will use them to roast marshmallows. YUM!
Hope you enjoy the story. Pray that I can keep it going!