Many thanks to those who reviewed the previous chapter! the support is greatly appreciated. There's been a deal of random complainers as well, but I cannot help those who clearly just want a target to rage at, and no one ought to try. I am quite proud of the distance I've come from when I started writing eight years ago, and I am not going to back down just because a tiny minority want to complain that my work is not 100% what they expect the story ought to be. that is ingratitude for someone who is pouring their time and efforts into something for free for other to enjoy, and it is very sad that people decide to act like petulant children and throw a fit because deep down they are jealous that someone else is succeeding when they do not even try. thanks again to the people who compose real critical reviews, offering constructive criticism and points of praise rather than deride everything or harp on one or two points they dislike. ~F

Chapter Sixty One

Spreading the Net Wide

Nobu'tan was true to his word, and didn't even make the attempt to leave the Burning Steppes, let alone the shadow of Blackrock Mountain, at least in person. He did however send many servants far and wide across the land, as well as a great multitude of eyes of Kil'rogg, in order to see what was going on in his new lands.

Meanwhile, he took great time in instructing the few remaining Blackrock warlocks, who had come into their magic and power far after Doomhammer's purge of the Shadow Council from their control over the Horde, giving them knowledge and instruction that he had similarly trained the humans of his homeworld in.

After they had proved that they grasped the new concepts and magic, he and they together, along with the assistance of Draco, they took many of the Fire-gut, Spirestone and Torchbelcher ogres, and under the supervision of Teg'Ramm, created dozens of new ogre magi to bolster the forces of the Horde, these great beasts even more powerful then the warlocks and shaman that had risen up from the tribes on their own.

Nobu'tan even went the extra step to input more Fel energy into each one, allowing them to slightly warp into creatures of the Fel, demonic spikes or claws rupturing along some of them, but otherwise keeping them overall humanoid.

These he sent to learn from Teg'Ramm and the ogre magi of the Stormreaver Clan, after they all pledged their undying loyalty to the Horde. Vosh'gajin returned in due time, well ahead of a column of forest trolls that were making their way slowly back from the far north, reporting that War Master Voone, himself, and many more of their hunters had all but eliminated several tribes of their fellow Amani, capturing many to be forcefully brought back to join the Horde as conscripts.

Their ranks thusly swollen, Nobu'tan had turned his attention to the Searing Gorge, the mostly Iron Dwarf held territory just north of the mountain, and through the on-the-ground leadership of Nek'rosh and Gath'llzogg, successfully started to push back their enemies away from the northern entrance of the mountain fortress, establishing defensive works and a serviceable perimeter that would hold back anything that the displaced dwarves had left to fight with.

As for threats that were farther off, Nobu'tan had discovered a strange thing coming down from the extreme north of the land: a small contingent of orcs, along with strange bovine creatures, some trolls of a variety far different from the Amani, and even walking corpses slowly making their way south toward their lands. From the flags and symbols they bore, he knew that they were part of the imposter's Horde from across the sea, and he could only presume that they sought to investigate his sudden burst of activity. How they had learned of their movement so quickly, Nobu'tan did not know, and that concerned him.

Even still, reports came in from Redridge that the humans and their dwarven allies were trying to send in spies to scout out the southern Burning Steppes, and Nobu'tan could tell that he was making large enough waves in the political scheme that he had aroused the attention of the other world leaders. It would be touch-and-go for a while, but he needed to make sure that he had allies within the cities of his enemies. Stormwind to the south was more than covered, from what he learned through simple letters that arrived from Lucius, and he knew he had much to thank Lady Narcissa for when he finally make the trip to the human city himself.

But this knowledge of another continent perturbed him, and how to get people across the great sea to investigate was proving to be quite difficult. Blackrock orcs were very easy to distinguish from their fellows, the grey-green skin being far different from the typical green of those from other clans, and while the Dragonmaw looked more or less the same, it was difficult to trust any of them to be effective spies.

Therefore he had only one option to turn to, and summoned Draco and Blaise Zabini to meet with him in Nefarian's former chamber, which had been redecorated with many of the items that heralded the Warchief of the Horde, which Nobu'tan had won from Rend in their duel.

That all the Horde respected his choice to set another as his champion and their leader on the field of battle, and even wear the title of Warchief in and of itself was impressive, but the fact that they equally respected and followed his direct orders to the letter served as proof that Rend had been destroying all that his forebears had established. The Horde was ready and willing to serve and destroy, if only one with enough intelligence and ambition was there to take charge.

"You wished to see us, Nobu'tan?" Blaise asked as the pair arrived, and the chief warlock turned from looking over the black lands that he controlled, as he was wont to do as of late.

"Yes," Nobu'tan said, turning to face them, "I have a mission that I wish to send that pair of you upon, as I cannot trust many others that take the form of orc so readily."

Blaise seemed eager, but Draco was hesitant, "What is this mission?" he asked.

"Espionage; infiltrating the camp of our enemies across the sea," Nobu'tan replied, before explaining. "I have learned that there is a base of the imposters to the south, in the jungles of Stranglethorn, where they have set up a station to travel across the sea to their capital. I want the pair of you to go there, learn all that you can, drum up some allies if you can, preferable among their warlock community, and have Draco report back to me. Blaise, I want you to stay afterward and act as my eyes, ears, and hands in this place, making sure that whatever they do, we know it."

It took several moments, wherein Nobu'tan could tell that Draco was calculating the risk and rewards of such a move, as well as deducing if it was a ploy to remove him so that Nobu'tan could do something rash, but in the end he agreed, and Nobu'tan smiled, "You are a dear friend to me, Draco, and I promise you, as I did your father, that I will do no foolish actions while you are away to keep me in check."

That relaxed the younger Malfoy far more than any sort of logic or reasoning, and while there was a smattering of regret, probably from the time it would be until he saw his mother again, the pair departed to prepare for their journey south.

Turning back to face the wide expanse, Nobu'tan smiled. All was coming together quite nicely for their opening moves, and their enemies would have no idea how far the Horde had risen in only the first few weeks of Nobu'tan's control.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Teg'Ramm was in his element. The three clans of his kin may have spoken a slightly different dialect, but surprisingly the grunts and bone shattering snarls of the ogre language was more or less the same, even across worlds, and he was able to understand them quite easily. Challenging and defeating their warlords was simple enough, as unlike orcs there was no dishonor is using magic or any sort of cheating within their massive four way struggle for supreme dominance, and therefore he was at the highest advantage.

Now as warlord over four clans of ogres, with a host of magi to train, Teg'Ramm was a powerful chieftain of the Horde in his own right, and thusly had requested a formal acceptance by the Horde as a clan, naming themselves the Balefire Clan, as they would rampage like a wildfire of Fel magic over their enemies when unleashed by their master, Nobu'tan the Warlock.

Despite his new leadership, Teg'Ramm allowed the former warlords to continue exercising their authority over their individual clan's ogres, but so long as they recognized his superiority in leadership and understood that he could change anything of their commands at a whim.

With that done, Teg'Ramm turned his attention to locating his new clan in the bowels of the lower portions of the mountain, setting aside large areas of the former dwarven city as their new lair, and set to work training the newly made Fel ogre magi in the ways of the warlock.

He was pleased at the eagerness for destruction that the new breed of demonic warriors showed, and their aptitude for anything to do with the Fel, even outstripping the speed in which he himself had learned the various skills and spells. Naturally they each had a long way to go before they were close to his level of power, but the first steps were surprisingly simple for them to grasp, and soon a flood of imps were surrounding and obeying the intelligent giants without gainsay.

"Teg'Ramm," shouted a voice from the entrance of their lair in the old dwarven city, even the throne room of the dead king beneath the mountain, where Teg'Ramm had found the massive throne quite to his liking, and the other warlords had covered it with skins and large bones to symbolize their subservience to his rule.

Turning, Teg'Ramm grinned at the sight of his master entering his domain, and approached quickly, eager to show off his new domain to his master and the progress of his legion of magi. "Lord Nobu'tan…" he started, but the warlock had eyes locked on the multitude of warlocks training in the center of the old throne room.

"Are they ready for their first engagement?" he asked swiftly, eyes already gleaming with possibility. Teg'Ramm knew that look, and it foreboded death and destruction for their enemies.

"They're as ready as you wish them to be, if I sense what you are about to ask of us." The ogre mage lord replied.

"Then take them to the surface, along with a host of your warriors," Nobu'tan continued, a sinister smile on his face, "the dwarves are growing near to our defenses again, and I want them driven out from the Searing Gorge completely, smash their holdings and drive them out into the badlands or the small gateway to their own lands, so that we can claim the entire gorge as our own."

"As you wish master, we are ready," Teg'Ramm replied, roaring in the ogre language for the others to come, and for more warriors to assemble with weapons and what armor that ogres felt necessary.

Even the previous warlord of the ogres, Urok Doomhowl appeared, ready for battle and smirking dumbly at the likelihood of blood. Signaling for them to follow him, Teg'Ramm led the thunderous charge through the underbelly of the mountain up to the surface, heading for the northern entrance of their fortress. He could tell that the ogres were still in awe of the fact that they were allowed to make their homes in the massive fortress, which had before been only accessible by the orcs of the Horde, so they felt privileged and powerful for such an honor, and would fight to defend their new home to the death.

The dwarves were already attacking their northern ramparts once more as Teg'Ramm exited the massive stone doors that stood ajar from the walls of the mountain. The Blackrock orcs there looked tired and worn, but fought bravely. Bellowing his commands to slay the dwarves and aiming his staff for emphasis, Teg'Ramm let loose a blast of dark energy, striking a dwarf that was about to slay one of their orcish allies, and the defenders turned surprised as the mountain rumbled with the stampeding feet of the ogres of the Balefire Clan.

The howls of their warriors and commanders rent the night, and the dwarves found themselves sorely outnumbered and outmatched against Teg'Ramm's forces, and quickly retreated from the outer bulwarks that the orcs had prepared for their defense. Sadly for the dwarves, the ogres knew no pity and were still very fresh to the battle, and they charged out from their perimeter, slaying any dwarf that lagged behind the main company and followed them across the eastern part of the massive chasm for which the region was named.

Spiders and other natural creatures of the land fled before the rampaging mass of ogres, and the golems of the dwarves, large obsidian things that barely approached the shoulders of the shortest ogre, only managed to slow them down as they charged right over them in their mad bloodlust for the dwarves.

At the northeast corner of the chasm, the dwarves halted, making a stand at their main encampment outside the mountain, forming a line wherein they hoped to withstand the massive hulks that rampaged toward them. However, they forgot that these were no mere brutes these any longer. Teg'Ramm ordered the warlocks to fall back and unleash their magic, surging the warriors to new heights of aggression, as well as flinging powerful devastation into the ranks of the defenders, shattering their line and preventing them from bringing massive pikes to bear against the howling force that bore down upon them.

With a massive crunch of flesh on metal, the ogres hit the shattered line of dwarves like a thunderclap, a few of the hulks going down from crossbow bolts and hastily aimed spear throws. But by and large the dwarves were broken; their own bodies sent flying as the much larger force, in both size and number, collided with them in a torrent of blood and massive clubs.

Soon enough their camp was obliterated, leaving only the dark metal towers overlooking the gorge itself, as the defenders and other members fled to the south, many even intentionally leaping down the gorge itself, sliding down the sides of the near sheer cliffs to their brothers-in-arms that awaited en mass in the pit beneath.

What the dwarves sought in that deep hole, Teg'Ramm was unsure, but they were in a terrible position, as he and his clan now held the high ground. Commanding the warriors to flank around both sides of the gorge and eliminate every dwarf compound they found, with a few warlocks in tow for each group to keep them in line, he himself stepped to the very edge along with the vast majority of his spell casters.

"They think they can hide in a hole from us and our power?" he muttered aloud, Ramm chuckling at Teg's humor. "We shall show them the might of the Fel, then…" Ramm said to the others, who all smirked wickedly at the pronouncement.

Calling upon the link that existed between all warlocks, as well as to the source of all Fel far in the Twisting Nether beyond the stars, the dozen ogre warlocks summoned a cascade of fire from the sly, blanketing a large section of the gorge in the hailstorm of destructive power. Adding to this, Teg'Ramm summoned several of the meteorite Infernals to crash down into the pit, just to shake up the dwarves and stir them from hiding once and for all.

It works, all too well in fact, as the entire bottom of the pit suddenly surged like an overturned ant hill, dwarves scrambling for the only exits, ramps that led up toward the fortress, and the waiting arms of one of the faction of ogre warriors.

Even as they climbed however, the dwarves were dangerously open for Teg'Ramm and his warlocks, who took their pleasure to lob spell after spell at the maddened humanoids, felling many and causing their bodies to tumble back down into the pit. It was a glorious slaughter, and a fine debut as a warlord of a massive, all-ogre clan of the Horde.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lucius could sense, in the days that he spent with his wife in Stormwind, that there was an undercurrent of magic throughout the city, and one that he was most familiar with. Subtle, yet everpresent, the Fel magic ran as an undercurrent in the city, swept just out of sight by typical means by the sheer weight of the massive Arcane focus of a tower in the center of the quarter, but Lucius was always one that had an easy time finding what he sought, and standing outside of the Slaughtered Lamb tavern, he was sure that the source of the Fel magic lay within.

He had inquired around, and while there was nearly a constant flow of customers in and out of the tavern during the day, and throughout the night, whenever he passed by the main room of the tavern seemed completely empty. That alone was what tipped Lucius off that something was not as it seemed.

Now he was sure that he had the answer. Entering the tavern confidently, Lucius looked around, noting that as he had expected the tavern was completely empty aside from the bartender, a man named Jarel Moor, who did not so much as look at Lucius as the blond aristocrat entered his establishment.

Following his senses regarding the Fel energy, as well as his impressions of where so many would disappear to in such a small building, Lucius immediately went for the door to the back rooms, and was more than pleased to fins a staircase leading down into the basement of the building.

The lightning dwindled to torches very quickly, eventually casting long shadows and seeming eerie enough for a classical witch from muggle fairy tales, but Lucius pressed onward, until the passage down gave way to a large room with a bonfire set in the center, and eight humanoid figures conversing among themselves around it. They all stopped however, when Lucius came into view.

"Are you lost, friend?" one of them, a man in black robes offset by blue and grey asked, an imp peering out from behind its master's leg.

"Oh, I believe I've found the right place at last," Lucius said, releasing the full might of his own Fel magic to be sensed by the other warlocks, some of who recoiled at the concentrated demonic power that the mysterious stranger in their midst suddenly held.

The others, probably the more experienced, leaned forward, attracted to such raw demonic strength. "I see," the apparent leader stated, smirking at the show of knowledge regarding the Fel, "then what can we of the darkness do for one already so well affiliated with the knowledge we hold?"

Lucius smiled. Spreading his hands wide in a low gesture of humility, he began, "I come to Stormwind as a bearer of… an excellent opportunity, to all those who use the might of the Fel. I represent the Council of the Black Harvest, an order of warlocks that seek to unite all those who use the might of the Legion, to band together and make certain that the demons never again threaten our world as they have in the past…"

It was partly things Lucius himself was making up, based on sentiment that he was sure that Nobu'tan held for himself personally, as well as part of a script that the senior warlock had given directly to Lucius to use in order to lure other warlocks to their cause.

"Certainly that is an enticing offer," the leader replied, stepping nearer, and offering his hand, "Zardeth," he introduced himself, "I am the leader of this coven of warlocks here in Stormwind, and throughout the region. I suppose we will have much to discuss about this Order of the Black Harvest, now won't we?"

Lucius knew that they would desire more information, and it probably was for the best, as he knew that Nobu'tan would inevitably send people to petition other races of warlocks to join them as well, which may or may not cause conflict between the established factions that already existed. Better to hash out how that was going to work now, before anything else occurred.

Walking with Zardeth to the back part of the cellar, where another level of stairs led down into a tomb-like series of catacombs, they had privacy from the others to speak openly. "While I am indeed intrigued by this development," the man started, turning to face Lucius, "I am hesitant to take you up on it at this present time."

"Oh," Lucius said simply, prompting the man to explain more behind his decision. Many gifted people in the world of magic lacked greatly in the realm of psychology, and Lucius was a master at getting the ends that he desired from those around him, through the merest of words.

"You see," the local warlock leader started, just as Lucius had wished, "between the local branches of the Stormwind Mages and even the Church of the Light, we are all but forced into operating within the shadows, feeding off what scraps of students the Mages cast aside in their arrogance. For us to suddenly become bolder and have an influx of strength, I cannot trust that our safety would be assured out in the streets. We are an unwelcome necessity of life these days, as the study of demons is all around us thanks to history, yet still heavily looked down upon."

"I see," Lucius said, seeing partly through the man's circular and highly fallible logic. The rhetoric was unimportant, so much as the resistance due to fear, fears clearly misplaced upon a desire for safety, but Lucius could tell that the safety that Zardeth felt was not for his underlings, but for his place of power above them. If he willingly joined with another, he would no longer be in charge, and he seemed one who did not take kindly to being given orders from what probably seemed like an unknown.

"Perhaps I can assure you at a later time, when the leader of our Order travels this direction to meet with the warlocks that have joined the Black Harvest. I am sure that you and he will get along famously." Lucius said diplomatically. They had been delivered the message, and Lucius was more than welcome within their ranks, which served both what Nobu'tan had desired, as well as permitted Lucius another avenue of learning the powers of the Fel, even if what he already knew was greater than this coven, they might have some obscure technique that he was as of yet unaware of.

"I will look forward to such a meeting with great interest," Zardeth replied, smiling and likely thinking that his power was now secure, and that no such leader was forthcoming. It would prove only all the more amusing when Nobu'tan did arrive, sometime in the near future if Lucius had any say in the matter. Having the young man cooped up to the north among orcs and ogres, which probably very good for his own emotional state currently, could not be good for his mental health as a human in the long run, regardless of where his personal loyalties lay.

"Naturally you are more than allowed to join us as often as you please, Lord Malfoy," Zardeth stated as they started to return to the others, smirking as though he had surprised Lucius by knowing his identity. Lucius was already aware that he and his wife had made quite the stir in the city, being more than Noble-like in attire and behavior, and yet clearly not from any family that the nobility, or royalty, were aware of. To suddenly aspire to positions of power, through Narcissa's connections with Prince Anduin, was a massive breach in standard protocol, although still such a blindside move that most of the potential political opponents in Stormwind had no clue what to make of their rise to influence.

From what Lucius recalled from the history lessons about his family, it had been much the same when the Malfoy's had first come to Britain from France. The very thought of his wife making history repeat itself in their lifetimes reminded Lucius of how astoundingly lucky he was that she was his, and he hers. And he loved her all the more for it.

"Of course, but for now I must return home to my wife," Lucius said by way of excuse, and started for the exit. "I will return at a later date, but until then farewell."

The other warlocks said nothing in response, but Lucius felt their eyes upon him as he departed. A very distrusting bunch, to say the least, and Lucius felt that it was more than an earned reputation that they had among the people of Stormwind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Voldemort was growing bored with the day to day activities of fortifying the mountain. While Potter was restrained by his honor to the areas around the mountain, and still doing a massive effective job of securing the lands to the north and south for their own use despite his personal restrictions, the former Dark Lord of Britain couldn't help but feel rather underused in all these efforts.

It might have been partly because the young brat had no idea what he could actually accomplish with Voldemort's help, or that he wisely did not want his former enemy so close to him, but in either case the Dark Lord was not going to stand for it any longer.

He may want to kill the warlock, but as of right now he couldn't have that lovely pleasure, so he would work to set up the opportunity for when the time was right. Striding into the wide chamber that Potter had claimed for his own, with the wide view over the entire blackened landscape, Voldemort ignored the glares of the orc guards that stood just outside the doorway. None of the Horde creatures had enjoyed his presence, sensing the death and rotted husk that stood among them, but their fear kept them in place from trying to hinder him in almost any endeavor that the now Death Knight put his mind to.

Nobu'tan was looking over a large map upon a wide table, featuring a layout of the surrounding territory, as well as troop placement and other war-like appendages that were scavenged from around the camps. The other leaders of the Horde had long ago returned, and were devising their defenses in the event that the mountain was attacked.

Lingering off to the side for a time, Voldemort watched as the young human stood comfortably with the trolls, orcs, and ogre around the table, each pitching their ideas of what to do with the massive patches of land they had just claimed to the north, and making mention of a possible invasion force coming down from the far north.

In most cases, Voldemort would have only paid partial attention, focusing rather on the object of his hatred and obsession for nearly two decades, but something about the conversation caught his attention. The troll, a shadow hunter judging from the gangly creature's armor and choice of weapon, spoke while tapping the land far north of where they resided. "By de time we be returnin' ta de mountain, dem orcs and deir allies already be movin' toward Stromgarde. We barely avoided dem, cause o deir undead seein us movin' in da shadows."

Voldemort perked up at the mention of other sentient undead in this world. It might have proven interesting if he had been the one up there to encounter them, but that had not been the case.

"Ah, perhaps we need to slow them down slightly before they have opportunity to reach us, then…" Potter said slowly, his eyes following that of the troll's to spot Voldemort in the shadows of the room, watching them.

"Come now, Voldemort, no need to stay near the doorway and eavesdrop. You are welcome here among us all." The warlock said, and the near-biting sound of the words of welcome were like nails on the Dark Lord's nerves, but he obey nonetheless, as it would serve him better to have a vantage point closer to see what was discussed.

"We were just discussing the oncoming group of various races from the north, which are highly suspected to be members of the false Horde from across the sea." Nobu'tan explained, as though Voldemort wasn't already aware of that.

"So we attack and destroy them utterly before they can even reach our territory…" Voldemort suggested, and the younger human smirked.

"As I would have thought before as well, however there is something more tantalizing that could be done." Potter replied, "while we allow them to see some of our progress, I have no intention of allowing these spies anywhere near the mountain, let alone to know who leads the Horde, however, in the meantime, I want you to go north and follow them when they return, and see where their base in the north is. If they have undead in their entourage, you might find a place to infiltrate and discover how they discovered about us so quickly."

It was… actually a good plan, Voldemort had to admit. Granted he didn't have all the details of exactly how Potter planned to keep their group from discovering about the mountain and all the recent changes, but following them when they finally turned back would actually have a good bit of merit.

"And I take it you want me to travel this alone?" he said, wondering.

"You'll have some of the Amani Trolls with you, they are excellent trackers and superb assassins if the need warrants it," Nobu'tan replied, and the Shadow Hunter nodded in understanding. Voldemort however knew the real reason. They were going to be watching him, reporting back whether he had any ability to betray them before arriving at whatever end goal they might find to the north.

"As you wish…" he said regardless, turning to depart. Let the boy play his games for now, Voldemort would still be waiting. After all, thanks to the warlock, he had all the time in eternity to play the long game now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Draco was surprised how easy it was for himself and Blaise to travel through the human lands on horseback. As Pureblood children they had each learned the noble arts of riding, and were able to make excellent time through Redridge and down into the shady forest of Duskwood, which despite the local reputation of many dark and rather terrifying things happening in the deep area under those trees, nothing dared to challenge the two powerful warlocks.

Therefore they passed without confrontation down to the south, seeking the jungles known as Stranglethorn, and the orc encampment that lay therein. Knowing that they'd have to shift their forms once out of sight, Draco kept a sharp eye out as they crossed the last bridge from the forest into the boarders of the jungle, spotting the small campsite of Alliance members on a rocky outcropping that had good visibility of the road.

"Would it seem too unusual for travelers to bypass their camp altogether on their way south?" Blaise asked, the darker skinned man stretching from their two days worth of travel.

"Can't be sure, but would it harm anything if strange people crossed further south and disappeared?" Draco countered, smirking.

They were about to proceed onward, when Draco paused, watching the slowing road as it went through a narrow gap in the rises bordering the entrance to the jungle proper. There were other shapes there, moving swiftly toward the human camp, and from what Draco could see they had weapons drawn.

"It seems we may have a simple distraction making things all the easier for us to slip by." He said, nodding in the direction of the raiders heading for the Alliance post.

Blaise smirked, "So we run the gauntlet of other potential enemies to avoid arousing the suspicion of another, perfect…" he said sarcastically. Nevertheless, when Draco kicked his horse into a full gallop, the other pureblood wasted no time in following suit, and even as the first clashes of weapons and shouts of distress sounded from the camp, they were already pounding down the road toward the pass.

As added measure, Draco started weaving the illusionary magic that shapes his form into that on an orc, which was just as good that he did, as another set of hulking warriors appeared in the pass as he and Blaise entered it, leaping back as the pair of horses exploded past them on the road.

There was a surge of vicious words from the creatures they passed, but nothing more, and Draco felt that they were well in the clear for the time being, safely entering the jungle and on their down the road with all haste, crossing over the wide river on a surprisingly sturdy bridge that even supported them while mounted without so much as a creak of protest.

"Judging from the lack of supplies those warriors carried," Blaise said as he caught up with Draco, his disguise also firmly in place, "they couldn't have been stationed too far from here, we should keep an eye out for any off shooting paths from the main road south."

Draco nodded in agreement, and they set off again, slower this time as they felt that they were likely not to be accosted in their present form, despite riding horses which were almost decided a human selected mount in this world.

Just as Blaise had suggested, there was a turnoff not far ahead, and from their position high on the raised ridge where the road ran, it seemed to lead out to the coast, and some sort of walled off outpost lay at the edge of the shore, but the trees obscured somewhat the sight. "We could try there," Draco suggested, and their pair turned off the main road and started toward the place, growing more confident as they drew nearer.

The spiked walls and patrolling orc guards were a clear indication that they had found the right place, as the massive tower within the walls currently had a massive flying blimp sidled up next to it, while smaller green creatures ran to and fro, gathering supplies to load and offload from it to the tower.

A large orc seemed to be the one in charge as they entered the base camp, earning strange looks from the guards for their mounts, but Draco cared not for them or their opinions. So long as they weren't attacked, he would tolerate seeming odd. The leader turned toward the pair of them as they approached, "Welcome to Grom'gol, travelers. Before we get off on the wrong foot, I'll have you both know that I won't have any slackers in my base camp. I expect two healthy orcs like you to pull your own weight around here." He said brashly, clearly quite proud of his position and some unknown track record that Draco suspected he could support with the loyalty of his troops.

"That's fine, we're only passing through, on our way to the capitol," Draco explained, eyes darting up to glance at the large blimp that was still docked at the tower.

"Ah, then you might want to hurry," the commander stated, "that is the zeppelin heading to Durotar, and it's leaving soon. You may have to leave your horses however, but check with the zeppelin master and they may let you take them on board for a price."

What the orc implied by 'for a price,' Draco wasn't sure. Naturally he would expect to pay for boarding and his mount on the zeppelin, but the way that the orc said it was almost as though it was some sort of inside joke among their kind. Thanking him regardless for the tip, Draco led Blaise and their mounts toward the base of the tower, ascending the spiral ramp quickly to the landing platform where he found, to his dismay and somewhat annoyance, several goblins working to load the last of the supplies onto the flying boat.

"Oh come on!" one of them shouted at seeing the pair with horses, "you honestly expect us to fit those on here as well, and still be able to fly straight? No, no absolutely not, you'll have to leave those here and pick them up later…"

Draco instantly knew what was going on, and why the orc had mentioned money in such a manner. "Ah, that is a shame, but perhaps I might have something that'll change your mind?" he said silkily, starting to untie a pouch with coins in it, allowing the bag to jingle ever so slightly. The goblin's eyes narrowed, but the greed was apparent in his face as he waited expectantly.

Sighing, and knowing that he would end up paying far more than he wished, Draco removed a small fistful of gold, which made not only the goblin who addressed him, but the others paused and stare. It was far more than they expected one customer to have on them, clearly.

Watching the beings carefully, Draco started to count out a small number, waiting until their eyes were just short of fully opened before stopping at roughly twelve pieces of gold. "Will this do?" he asked, offering the twelve coins to the goblin, who snatched them greedily away, his sharp nails almost scratching Draco in their haste.

"For you, that's plenty, but…" the goblin started, but Draco cut him off.

"For both," he said with finality, and the goblin scowled, but pocketed the gold and beckoned the pair of them on board, along with the horses. Indicating a spot in the back of the lower deck for them to be tied, the goblin left them to take care of the remainder of the cargo, and Draco and Blaise were alone once more.

"Clever, to have goblins control their modes of travel," Blaise said in a low voice, but Draco shook his head.

"No worse than allowing them to manage your money," he countered, and the pair of Purebloods shared a small smirk at the memory of the stupidity of their forefathers back on their world. Goblins were a strange folk, and whether these ones were more or less like those of Wizarding Britain was yet to be seen, but the love of gold seemed to be a overarching quality among the small green beings.

Stopping the next one that descended to place a box of supplies, Draco asked, "How long should the trip to Orgrimmar take?"

The goblin raised an eyebrow, as though Draco ought to have known that already, but responded, "Depends…"

"On what?" Blaise asked, and the goblin smirked toothily at him.

"On whether we blow up over the ocean or not…" the creature replied nastily, and without even a hint of sarcasm, and walked away. Draco was sure then, as the ship started to pull away, that these goblins were way worse than any of the ones from their home planet.

Looking out the back of the cabin-like storage area, Draco spotted the sea churning far below them as they flew, the view partially blocked by the large rotating propeller that sent them forward. It was quite the marvel that such a device actually functioned. He had never studied what the muggles had been capable of before the destruction of their world by the Legion, but Draco suspected that they had had things of this nature, large ships that flew through the air or the like.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mephistroth watched with pleased amusement as the little warlock began to fortify his own little hold in the middle of the Eastern Kingdoms. The young human had done quite a lot in the first moments that he had returned to Azeroth, and despite it clearly being motivated by his own hubris and wants rather than loyalty to the Legion and their inevitable goal; it served an excellent purpose regardless.

The boy would serve as an excellent distraction, at the least, while other methods of ushering the Legion to Azeroth were underway, first and foremost being relative to the traitor, Illidan Stormrage. Mephistroth knew some of the details, but this was a fight that was thoroughly in the hands of Kil'jaeden, with Archimonde's body still being reformed in the core of Antorus following his defeat at the Battle of Mount Hyjal.

All that the Dreadlord was aware of at the present time was that, with the combination of the reactivation of the Dark Portal, which was slowly being achieved by Lord Kazzak, in combination with a traitor in the betrayer's ranks, the demonlord sought to distract the forces of the Alliance and the Horde with the unveiling of Illidan as their enemy, while a force returned to Azeroth to prepare the way in the most powerful font of power that the world still possessed: the remnants of the Sunwell.

Knowing that if this was a perfect success, that Nobu'tan and his forces would be cast aside, Mephistroth figured it would soon be time to fill in the warlock of some of the details, and direct him to aiding the traitor when the time came for the Dark Portal to open once more. In the meantime, there were a few loose ends from the past that they could effectively seal with the aid of the human warlock, namely the lingering Scourge forces around Quel'Thalas, as well as the Legions age old enemies of the Old Gods and their insectoid servants.

It would certainly be enough work for this new faction of ancient Horde remnants to keep them from growing too powerful, and still pushing forward to the grand plan of the Legion's ultimate return.

Soon, for now however, Mephistroth was content to watch the little warlock play warchief, and establish himself as a new power in the world. There would be time enough for them to act once the boy wasn't about to be confronted with armies from both Horde and Alliance simultaneously. The Legion was persistent with pursuing its goals, but not stupid enough to ruin a good tool when it was still too early for its use. Nobu'tan would be ready soon, and only when he was would the Dreadlord come to visit him once more, and give him further instruction.