Heart of Rage.
The two Orcs appeared with a loud crack in front of the Gates of Orgrimmar, and immediately knew something was wrong by what they saw around them.
"What's happening here?" Thrall breathed.
His people were clearly preparing for war, that much was evident from the plumes of smoke rising from behind the reinforced gates, and the unmistakeable sound of metal against the grindstone, but there were also humans strung up on posts or in cages, and a smell that sickened his stomach.
"Have our people rebelled against us?" he asked Grommash, who didn't seem as horrified by the sights and smells. "Has our absence upset them to the point of committing a coup?"
"Maybe these humans attacked and our people were defending themselves," Gromm said nonplussed. "You of all people should know what they really think of us."
"Not every human is like Blackmoore or his ilk," Thrall spat the name of his former captor. "We've both fought alongside humans who see us as allies, not enemies or mindless beasts..." he pointed to the nearest strung-up human. "This... This is how things were before we joined the Alliance... There has to be a reason for this."
"Why don't you ask one of the caged humans," Gromm sneered.
Instead of rebutting the snide tone, Thrall walked over to the nearest caged human, his heart sinking as the half-naked woman flinched at his approach.
"Please don't kill me!" the woman squeaked timidly.
"We're not going to harm you, tell us what happened here." He said in a gentle tone, surprising the woman.
"How... You speak common?"
"I was taught a kind human named Taretha when I was a slave," he smiled. "What happened here?"
"I don't know... One day everything's fine, we're trading with the Orcs like we have since the new Alliance was formed, the next... Our village was attacked, all the men were butchered and we were imprisoned for no reason..."
"Have you overheard anything while in this cage?"
"No, not really..." she admitted, and Thrall noticed the bruises around her neck indicating she had been strangled by an Orc recently. "The others mainly speak in their own tongue, very few seem to understand us, and even then it's only to tell us to shut up, or be quiet."
"Have you heard the word 'Thrall' mentionned?" he cautiously asked, knowing his name was the same in common and Orcish.
"Not often, some of the less aggressive mutter it when the bigger Orcs aren't around, and this big Orc spat it like it was poison on his tongue." The woman replied, looking around as she did to make sure they weren't being spied on. "I thought it was a curse word at first, but now... Is it a rude word or something in your tongue?"
"Depends on who you ask," he chuckled. "I am Thrall, Chieftain of the Orcish people, though I have been away fighting a great evil."
"You're the leader? Then you... You didn't order the attack on us?"
"Never. I have made strong friendships with many humans, like Jaina Proudmoore, it was I who brought my people into the new Alliance," he too looked around with concern. "It seems that in my absence a new leader has stepped in and steered my people back to the old ways."
"Are you going to stop them?" she said, hope burning in her eyes. "I don't think they'll settle for nearby slaughtering villages, I'm worried they may attack somewhere else when they're not expecting it; like Stormwind, or Lordaeron."
"I will endeavour to find out what has happened and stop my people from making such a terrible mistake," Thrall promised the woman. "Now is not the time to fall back into attacking our allies when there are greater threats out there."
He returned to where Gromm was standing and sighed deeply;
"It appears that my absence has caused a shift in power among our people."
"This could be the work of the Lich's agents." Gromm reminded him.
"Indeed. From what she told me it seems that someone has risen up and declared war on the Alliance, there have been attacks on the nearby human settlements, and she fears the Orcs may be preparing to attack somewhere major. The timing of this is no coincidence, just as the Legion invades in the east, our people turn on the Alliance in the west? A war on two fronts will split and weaken Azeroth's defence against the demons."
"What's the plan?"
"Find out where Drek'Thar, Eitrigg, and Saurfang are in all this mess, find out whose swayed the Orcs to betray me and the Alliance, and stop this foolishness before it's too late."
"Think there'll be people to fight?"
"I'd rather we not fight our own, but be prepared to defend yourself should the worst have happened."
"Such as?"
"Our people succumbing to the demon's influence again."
Gromm shuddered at the notion, before following Thrall toward the gates.
"Who goes there?" a guard called from atop the gates.
"It is I, Warchief Thrall, son of Durotan and Draka, leader of the Orcish peoples," Thrall called back. "I have returned victorious from battle with the Lich King, but with dire tidings from the east."
"Warchief Thrall is dead!" the guard laughed, causing Gromm and Thrall to share a concerned look. "He died when the Lich's fortress fell from the sky!"
"Who told you such lies?" Gromm asked.
"The new Warchief!"
"Who is the new Warchief? Eitrigg? Saurfang? Rexxar? Drek'Thar?" Gromm questionned.
"Who are you?"
"Grommash, leader of the Hellscream clan!"
"You're supposed to be dead too!" the guard called.
"Come down and meet us face to face, you'll see we are very much alive!" Thrall demanded, getting annoyed at hearing the lies his people had been fed.
The gates opened and a small squad of armoured guards marched out to greet them with weapons drawn, but they froze when they saw Thrall and Gromm standing before them.
"You're alive..."
"Who has been feeding you lies?" Thrall demanded. "Who has you attacking our allies when the Legion is invading this world once again?"
"Warchief Bladefist." One of the guards admitted after a long, uncomfortable pause.
"Bladefist?" Gromm exclaimed. "Kargath Bladefist?"
"He returned to lead us to glory after we hadn't heard from you, Warchief."
"Where are Eitrigg, Rexxar, Drek'Thar, and Saurfang? Surely they opposed Kargath's claim to the mantle of Warchief?"
"They did oppose him," a guard said, and Thrall barged past and strode into the city he founded. "But they left to rally the Kor'Kron from their posts in the Barrens, and haven't been heard from since."
"What are the Kor'Kron doing in the Barrens?" Gromm asked, his irritation obvious.
"Saurfang sent them there to train and marshal their strength after you departed."
Thrall felt himself bristling with frustration and anger.
"So, instead of waiting until me or one of the established leaders of our people, you willingly swore allegiance to an Orc who fought for Gul'dan's horde." Thrall snapped, as they strode through the Drag.
Thrall kept his eyes looking straight ahead, avoiding the further signs of barbarism and savagery that now decorated a city he'd established to differentiate his people from the Orcs who'd fought in the First and Second wars against the Alliance. Outside the Warchief's Hold, Thrall saw all the proof he needed that Bladefist was leading his people back into the arms of the Legion. Warlocks and red-skinned Orcs flanked the ramp up to the entrance of the Hold, and the spring that had created a small, tranquil lake beside the Hold was now choked with vivid red human blood.
"I'm reminded of how we were under Gul'dan," Gromm muttered. "There's a smell in the air that's familiar, but I can't place it."
"Keep your eyes open, our presence will not be welcomed with open arms by Kargath, he'll know we won't stand for this direction he's leading our people, and that we know he's an agent of the Legion, we just need to find out how he's convinced so many to follow him, and what he's done with those who opposed him."
They entered the Hold, and came face to face with Kargath, who, as they had anticipated, was not happy to see them. He was dressed in armour that was decorated with spikes and sharp edges, and hid where it ended and the two barbed blades that were his hands; the dark grey colouring clashed with the blood red hue of his skin, and the fiery hatred that burned in his red eyes.
"So, the pups have come in from the cold to bask by my fire," Kargath laughed cruelly, as red-skinned guards blocked the exit behind Thrall and Gromm. "If you expect me to give up the mantle to you, you are mistaken. I am here to correct the mistakes you have made since usurping the title of Warchief."
"I did not usurp the title, I earnt it." Thrall said in a growl, keeping his anger in check. "Our people lost the war because of Gul'dan's arrogance, and he left us leaderless and scattered, making it easy for the humans to capture and imprison us. I escaped and set our people free, leading them to a brighter future that could never be obtained at the point of a blade."
Kargath laughed, his guards echoing the derisive mockery.
"The foolish notions of a child." Kargath spat into the nearest brazier. "Our people are warriors at heart, making peace with lesser races has made us soft, complacent, unaware of the blade at our throats."
"The humans and other races are not inferior to Orcs, we are all equal, and fighting for dominance on this world will only bring disaster for our people."
"The Alliance races are numerous, and strong," Gromm added. "They have also been preparing to face the Legion, if we attack them they will win and could wipe us out."
Again Kargath laughed.
"Maybe under your inept leadership, but I know what it takes to survive better than anyone," he flashed his bladed hands. "I've sacrificed far more than you to stay alive, and that makes me perfect for ensuring our people are not exterminated by those you believe our allies."
"The Alliance are not our enemy! The Legion are!" Thrall roared, and all other noises in the Hold died instantly, even the crackling braziers seemed to quiet at his command. "The portal we opened years ago is active again, and demons pour through in numbers unseen by this world; if we attack the Alliance now, we will be making ourselves puppets of the demons once again, as we were under Gul'dan."
"We were not puppets under Gul'dan!" Kargath rose to his feet, before yelling; "We were conquerors!"
"Then why did we lose the war against the humans?" Gromm asked in a calm tone, which only enraged Kargath.
"Short-sighted fools like Orgrim Doomhammer," Kargath smirked, his eyes fixed on the mace in Thrall's hands. "It seems the son of Durotan shares his, and his father's, weak nature."
"Weakness is willingly shackling yourself to the Legion!" Thrall roared. "I'll show you true strength! I challenge you to Mak'gora for mantle of Warchief."
There was a tense silence that followed his challenge, and all eyes turned to Kargath; but instead of rising to his feet and accepting the challenge, the red-skinned Orc began to snicker and laugh.
"You should have let me challenge him," Gromm muttered. "Our people need you more than me."
"It's my name he besmirches, and the title of Warchief he has usurped from me, the honour is mine."
"The child uses terms he does not understand, and speaks of honour while he sullies himself by kneeling at the feet of lesser races." Kargath mocked, pointing at Thrall with one of his bladed hands. "There is no honour or glory in slaying you in ritual combat."
"What about me?" Gromm stepped forward. "Am I an honourable opponent in your twisted mind?"
"Hellscream?" Kargath tilted his head slightly. "You were the first to drink the demon's blood, you know the true strength of the Orcs is in conquering this world's lesser races. Seeing you standing at this whelp's side shows you too have lost what it means to be an Orc."
Gromm unsheathed Gorehowl, immediately causing the guards to draw their weapons as well.
"I still love the rush of slaying my enemies, but the demon's blood doesn't make me view innocents and equals as foes that need to be slain; I have found true honour and glory in defeating great evils that truly threaten our people. The Legion are not our allies, and I will not be enslaved to them again. If you will not fight Warchief Thrall because you view a true warrior as beneath you..." He slammed Gorehowl's blade into the ground as he roared; "THEN FIGHT ME COWARD!"
This got Kargath to rise from his throne.
"I accept your challenge, Hellscream." He smirked. "We shall fight in the heart of the chasm beneath this precious city of yours, and you may use two weapons so you can match my blades."
"I need only one for demon filth like you," Gromm picked Gorehowl up again. "Witnesses?"
"I don't need an audience to watch me kill you," Kargath chuckled. "But you can have your 'Warchief' watch if you must."
"I agree. Shall we make our way to the chosen battleground?" Gromm gestured to the door with his weapon.
"You go ahead, I wish to make sure my blades are sharpened before I butcher you." Kargath sneered.
Gromm and Thrall did not retort, instead turning and walking out of the Hold with the numerous spectators glaring holes through their back as they left.
"Have you ever been in these caverns beneath the city?" Gromm asked as they walked toward a yawning cave mouth that marked the entrance to the Cleft of Shadows; a narrow chasm that never saw the sun.
"I ordered them sealed when we settled here, I did not wish to risk our people's safety by letting anyone enter the dangerous subterranean passages." Thrall reminded him. "The raw power I felt standing at the entrance to that chasm was..."
Thrall's words died as they entered the Cleft, and beheld a sight that truly made it a place of shadows. Demonic rituals were being performed by numerous red-skinned warlocks, and dark clouds made the already dim confines seem like the night itself had been imprisoned here.
"Did Kargath send us into a trap?" Gromm growled, holding his axe in both hands.
But the warlocks paid them no mind, and they walked into the Cleft towards another cave mouth that had evidently been made by fel arts; a blackened hole had been burned through the rocky wall of the chasm, leading straight into the fiery subterranean passages beneath the city.
"Something is not right," Thrall commented, taking hold of the Doomhammer as they entered, and strengthening his connection to the elements of Earth to heighten his senses. "How did Kargath persuade so many to follow him? Where are the other leaders of our people?"
A deep, echoing laugh rattled off the walls of the passage they were descending, making Thrall tense, but Gromm growled;
"Impossible."
Before Thrall could ask, Gromm charged ahead with a savage war cry, forcing the shaman to hurry behind in his wake.