Thrall positioned himself so he sat a bit more comfortably, as he and Jaina settled in for their nightly discussions where they discussed Orcish history.

It was strange. Considering they were on campaign, he had fully expected his discussions around the campfire to be just talks and updates on the military side of things.

That was how the first night had started. They and the rest of the leaders had talked and talked about tactics, and possible defensive spots to hold after they had awakened the Archdruid.

Then, after they had finished up for the night, Lady Proudmoore had approached him, wishing to ask more about Death Knights and their capacities.

Then, somehow they had moved from that to talking about Teron Gorefiend, his history, and origins, which had led them to discussing the Stormreaver Clan.

And they had continued this kind of discussions every night on the march.

It was, frankly, a welcome break amongst the grime and doom of war.

Today's discussion was about the youngest of the Orcish Clans. The Shattered Hand.

"Kargath Bladefist was… Well, to be honest, many regarded him as some figure right out of mythology. So grand and spectacular was his rise to power, from the lowest of origins to the very tops of our civilization, that had it not happened, no one would have believed it!"

One thing he had come to realize lately, was that in many ways, he was finishing one aspect of his Shamanistic training he had not finished before Destiny and rulership took hold of him.

That of the storyteller.

Shamans had many roles in Orcish society, be it as healers, as warriors, as wise men.

But they were also supposed to be storytellers. It was their job to pass on the knowledge and tale of those who came before. They taught children of their ancestors, their former Clan's leaders, instructed and advised Chieftains in matters of state by passing on the knowledge of how those who came before had handled similar situations.

He had gotten rather good at it lately, as he retold the story of the blood curse in full, time after time.

There were some major differences between his people and Lady Proudmoore however.

For one, unlike them, Jaina was a scholar at heart, not someone who wanted to know about past culture to learn how to live in the now by emulating it.

She also liked to interrupt him now and again to ask him to delve deeper into a topic he had just gone through.

And as he finished telling the story of the rise of the Shattered Hand Clan, a group founded by the legendary Kargath Blade who had cut off his own hand to escape his chains, put a blade in it's place as he led his fellow slaves to revolution, rebellion and victory, she interrupted with a question.

"How long ago did all of this take place? In relation to the opening of the Black Portal, I mean?

"Oh, about 4-5 years. Kargath was still barely an adult as we counted it back then, when he crushed the Gorian Empire once and for all, and founded his clan on their ruins. He was far and away the youngest of the Chieftains who passed through the Dark Portal."

Jaina scribbled down while nodding.

"That would mean that right before the fall of the Gorian Empire, Grom had been raiding and punching deep into Ogre territory for half a decade, and Blackhand, Durotan, and Ogrim had been aiding both him and other clan leaders for even longer than that in wars against the Gorians?"

"I… Suppose. Why do you wish to know?"

"Because, it would mean that while remarkable, Kargath's uprising, when he lead tens of thousands of slaves in rebellion would have happened during a decline period. It was already weak, and vulnerable. Bladefist had the remarkable good luck of being at the right time, and the right place to deliver a final, lethal thrust right into the heart of Ogre civilization."

He… Hadn't considered that angle before.

"Hmmm… Yes… That would make sense."

"It would hardly be the first time in history. ALL the Human nations of the world are descended in one way or another from the mighty Arathor Empire. And it fell due to a decline period that happened to have the absolutely terrible timing that every single one of the great City Lords of the era was extremely greedy, mightily ambitious, and had grown powerful enough that they had eclipsed the weakened capital in power."

"Arathor… That's… Arathi right?"

"That's correct. The Empire's heartland was in the Arathi Highlands. Stromgarde was formed by the Trollbane family after they stabbed their overlord Faldir Lothar in the back."

Thrall had been reminiscing about days in the Arathi Highlands liberating camps when he noticed the implications of the name.

"Lothar? As in… Anduin Lothar?"

"Yes. Falfir Lothar was the last High King of Arathor and the first King of Azeroth. Just like the Gordian Emperor, he saw his homeland fall into ruin because of a mixture between bad times, and the wrong people at the wrong time. Then he took all his men, servants, and ships, and set sail south, where he landed at the great Valley he founded Stormwind at… After he slaughtered all the Jungle Trolls living there of course."

"Vol'jin could probably tell a tale or two about that."

"No doubt. But what happened there actually illustrates my point."

She tapped her book with her… Well, she called it a pen, though it looked like no pen Thrall had ever seen. Instead of being a sharpened feather, it was a small metal lube with a metal tip at the end.

"Because the only reason Faldir's and his descendants' colonization of Stormwind and everything around it worked out for them, was that the original inhabitants, The Gurubashi Empire of Trolls, had gone bust up, just like Arathor some time before. Where once there was an empire capable of raising hundreds of thousands of troops, now the forests were home to hundreds of smaller tribes and settlements who all fought each other for dominance, as well as the rising Gnoll Clans."

He got what she was saying immediately.

"He was at the "right time, at the right" place. Or wrong as the Trolls see it."

"Indeed. Had this happened a century later, it is far more likely they would have been considerably more unified and driven him back into the sea. But they were divided and without any ability to raise a unified front against them, and so were easy pickings for the humans in their fortified valley."

He considered it.

That in turn had some other similarities to Orcish History.

Orcs had for most of their history been nowhere near as powerful as they had been at the end of Draenor's life.

They'd had to fight all the other powers of Draenor for their place in the world.

Ogres, bigger giants of various kinds, strange magical birdmen, and beasts of countless coats had all tried their damnedest to wipe them from the face of the red world.

And one of the favorite ways Orcs had used to counter their enemies was the exact same way this King Lothar had used to defeat the Trolls and Gnolls.

They had found some good, nice, and easy-to-defend regions, built their stronghold and farms there, and used them as bases to launch raids, conquests, and invasions from.

The Blackrock Clan and it's mountains and vales, Shadowmoon and their own Valley that shared their name, and many more.

There was a clear parallel here, one he wasn't entirely sure how to feel about.

Not sure to say those nagging feelings out loud, he instead asked another question of his own.

So it was the Lothar Dynasty who founded Azeroth. But… Anduin Lothar was not the King during the first or second wars. That was the Wrynn family wasn't it?"

Jaina nodded, still writing.

"Llane and Varian Wrynn. The Wrynn family inherited the Crown many generations back when the kingdom was inherited by a queen, married to one Lord Wrynn, who in turn passed down his name to their children. Anduin and Llane were related, far, far back, even if they didn't share their names."

Ah, the wonders of Human genealogy. Where a weaker family could somehow be the one who passed down the name along with the reins of power, over their superiors.

"Huh…" Another thought struck him then.

"You said that Arathor was "Reforged" recently, did you not? By the Menethils and Trollbanes uniting."

"Provided it lasts, yes…" She left the implications of that unsaid.

"But… If Varian Wrynn is the true heir of the Arathor Empire… Wouldn't resurrecting it be the same as declaring a challenge to him?"

Jaina smiled, though not jovially.

"Yes. Yes, it would. But this is the norm with Human Kingdoms. They always try to one-up each other in every single way. Frankly speaking, they could have called this new nation they're forming anything. The union of Lardaeron-Stromgrade would have been my choice. They chose Arathor for the simple reason of the fact it carries the highest possible esteem you can get. Never mind that it comes across like they're rubbing Varian's nose in it, or that it is rightfully seen as a challenge for domination by the other Human Kingdoms, each of whom used to be part of the original Arathor empire."

Thrall nodded, immediately understanding.

"What you're saying is that it's a pissing contest."

Jaina froze for a brief second… Then chuckled.

"Yes… That's… Pretty much what it is. That's how my father always described politics. Just one pissing contest after another."

Thrall knew that feeling well. Being a supreme leader you grew used to everyone wanting to impress you, and hammer in that they were something special.

And every time there was a rivalry between his officers, there were posturing and challenges involved. Often a Mak'gora. Ironically enough, his reforms to make the old duels less lethal had only encouraged his officers in this regard, given that leaving a man alive after besting him in such a fight had always been regarded as a grave insult and humiliation.

Politics were about posturing and showcasing what you were, and why people should follow you.

Pissing contests really.

"It's weird. Studying and speculating on manners was my life… It still brings me joy… And yet I've completely gotten used to the less refined ways anyone outside the academia talks. It's in many ways become my new normal."

Thrall chuckled.

"I'm guessing most Humans in your universities did not use the word "Pissing" in a lady's hearing?"

Jaina smiled.

"No most certainly not! We would always use these very delicate and roundabout ways of saying we were going to the privy. In hindsight… It seems so stupid really."

He would have to agree.

"You like studying though. Learning new things especially."

"I do. I'm guessing you're the same. If I didn't know your standing, I might have assumed you were a historian, given your WAST knowledge of Orcish history. I have met actual historians who knew only a quarter of their own Kingdom's history, compared to what you know of ALL of Orcish history!"

Thrall grinned.

"Thanks. I do love Orcish history, that part is true enough. But it goes beyond my love for Orcish culture. Learning of the past… To truly understand all that came before… That is part of what being a Shaman is all about."

She nodded eagerly.

"And that in and out of itself is another fascinating detail. When I first saw your Shamans, I thought they were similar to Paladins. Respected religious warriors with powerful magic. But that comparison doesn't really hold up. Paladins are warriors first and foremost. Shamans are… A living center of Orcish Culture."

He nodded. That was exactly what a Shaman was. He was glad she understood that. Many of her mages did not and would annoy the piss of his Shamans with their attempts at discussions on the finer points of the Magical spectrum.

Understanding magic was important for a Shaman… But only in how it helped you serve your Clan and the Horde as a whole.

To become a Shaman was to become something greater than yourself. It was not the same as becoming a Mage or a Warlock, where the important thing was your ability to study and memorize things.

You became a center for anyone around you to lean on. And it was your duty to be able to assist any who came to you seeking aid or guidance.

"It's fascinating stuff… So much more complex than the speculations on Orcish history the Alliance pieced together after the Second War."

"I imagine the Azerothians might have said the same thing of the Gurubashi if they had cared to learn about their history… And frankly the same can be said of Human Cultures and Nations. You have a long history here on this world. Just like the Trolls. Or the Tauren."

"It's a big world, with a long, LONG history. And everyone who's managed to make it this far has interesting stories to tell. Even the Ogres, who every single person in Academia has dismissed as nothing but savages with a retarded mental growth capacity, save the occasional two-headed ogre, had Empires of their own, with a rich and interesting history."

Hmm… He had not considered that. To him, the Gorian Empire was just something he'd learned about in his quest to absorb every bit of Orcish history he could learn.

But it was true enough.

Orcs, Trolls, Humans, Ogres, and others… All those sentient creatures who had the capacity to form societies had the capacity for greatness. Few indeed were the completely and irredeemably evil sentient races without any higher capacity, like the Centaurs or Gnolls.

In fact, they were so rare that they were outnumbered by even the savage, but clever animals like Murlocs. Pests without any hope of culture or societies. At least they had the excuse of being mere animals. Centaurs could have coexisted with other races… Instead, they had declared complete and total genocide against all others, for no other reason than hatred and sadism.

No better than demons.

As Thrall took a bite out of a chocolate bar, he wondered once more about the future.

Not just that of his Orcs, but of his Trolls and Tauren, and the Ogres and the Goblins he intended to bring back into the fold.

What would their future be? What sort of society would they form inside the Horde? Would he try to reform some sort of new Gorian kingdom for his Ogres? And what of the Goblins? According to Fremde, Steamwheedle wanted to be King of the Goblins. Would that mean his price for getting back into the Horde was to unify Kezan under one banner? And even if he actually did, what sort of society would he form inside the Greater Horde?

At least with His Trolls and Tauren, all of them had some sort of past they wanted to remake and rework into something new. Mulgore, The Darkspear Islands, the Dark Troll Kingdoms that existed before the Night Elves came.

All of them had a past they wanted to reforge anew, into something new and glorious. It was something they shared.

A deep desire for a Home, like what they had before. Just better.

And as both Warchief and Shaman, it was his duty to help ALL of them reach that goal.

To have peace, you have to be strong. So strong that your enemies dare not challenge your might.

The Oracle's words also came to his mind, as well as the very clear-cut instruction that Lady Jaina Proudmoore was the key to peace between the Horde and Humankind.

He would be lying if he said that part of the reason he did not mind telling Lady Proudmoore all about Orcish History as she wanted to know was to build on that set of instructions… But the greater Truth was that he liked doing it. He liked telling someone about the past. About that Orcish History, he loved so much, especially someone who was actually interested in it, as opposed to just another friend amongst the Horde leadership who needed to know some basics about their origins.

It was like being back with Grom and Orgrim around the Campfire… Only he was now the teacher, the storyteller, the one who passed on the Knowledge onwards to new people.

And that was something he genuinely, passionately cared about.

A bit later in the night, their continued talks on the Shattered Hand were interrupted by Fremde, who came to inform him that they had located the cave entrance to the last leg of their journey as it was currently planned.

The great tunnel network that led to Winterspring, the Wardens prisons where Illidan "the Betrayer" had sat behind bars for 10 000 years, and the entrance to Moonglade, where Malfurion Stormrage rested in his den.