Chapter I
Youngblood
The structure stood on a raised platform of stone. It consisted of two blocklike pillars supporting a retangular stone slab. The structure itself was not what the massing sea of brown skinned orc warriors were staring at however. They were staring at the swirling green vortex that had formed between the pillars of the Dark Portal. Many of the orcs gathered regreted what thier race had been forced to do. Only months before the powerfull shaman Gul’dan had told them thier lands were dieing from a mysterious blight. In thier panic, the orcs slaughtered the naughboring Drenai and took thier lands. But the blight was already in the Drenai lands too. Blackhand, warchief of the Blackrock Clan, took this new methodology to heart however. If thier planet was dieing, his clan would simply conquer a new one.
So now, they stood assembled before the gateway. Warchief Blackhand stood at the head of the formation, his antlered helmet distinguishing him from the rest of his clan. Gul’dan and several other shamans moved through the crowd, handing out vials of red liquid to each orc. As Gul’dan offered a vial to a young orc however, the orc merely chuckled. “And what is this?” The orc asked as a looked at the small vial.
“This is a battle elixer. It will make you strong for the coming conquest.” Gul’dan stated through a toothy grin.
The young orc chuckled and handed the vial back to the shaman. “I have no need of your elixer, I need only my axe to conquer this world your sending us to.”
“Kagran!” One of the recruit handlers shouted as he made his way towards the young orc. As he arrived he plucked Kagran‘s vial from the shaman’s hand and waved him away. “You’r good Kagran, but a true warrior knows to take every advantage he can get in a battle.”
“I understand.” Kagran said as he took the vial.
The vials were passed out one by one, untel Gul’dan handed the Warchief his. Blackhand thanked the shaman and turned to his clan. “My sons, they say our world is doomed. I say, we get ourselves a new one!” Warchief Blackhand began as the assembled orcs cheered. “Beyond this portal lies a world ripe for conquest! We are no longer Blackrock, Stormreaver, or Dragonmaw. We are the Horde! And we will do whatever is neccisary to ensure our people’s survival!” The sound of a million cheering orcs thundered across the area, threatening to deafen Kagran. As the cheers died down, Blackhand held up the vial. “Drink up my sons! We march to war!” As the warchief drank the red liquid from the vial, every orc in the army began drinking as well.
Kagran imediately felt sick. The empty vial slipped from his grasp and his vision ran red. He droped to his knees, closeing his eyes as he roared in pain. Then it was over. Kagran opened his eyes, to see a pair of red skined hands infront of his face. Once he realised that they were his own, he looked around the assembled army. Every orc, including Blackhand, had grown mildly larger in size, and now possesed bright red skin, as well as equaly bright red glowing eyes. After a few brief moments where the other orcs came to the same realisation Kagran had, everyone gathered thier weapons, and looked to Blackhand. The Warchief stood infront of the portal with his battleaxe raised. “To battle! For the Horde!” He shouted as he turned and charged through the portal. The orcish army screamed this new battle cry as they quickly followed thier leader through the portal.
Kagran was suprised as he walked through the portal. There was no jarring transition, flying travel through the stars, or walk through a demonic land. It had been as if he stepped through an open doorway. In one moment, he was on the dieing world of Dreanor, the next, he stood in a verdent grassland. Then he saw thier foe, and realised he had come to a world of monsters. The creatures stood in a line a few yards from the portal. They were covered head to toe in metal, with flesh the color of sand bearly visible through the metal cylinders encasing thier heads. Some rode steeds that resembled antlerless stag. These too were extensively covered in metal. One of the other recruits came out of the portal and looked at Kagran. “Whats wrong? Your not afraid of the big scary humans are you?” the recruit said with a laugh. Kagran grined as a red haze formed at the edges of his vision. Ahead of him, Warchief Blackhand raised a massive axe and roared. Then as one, the Horde charged into Azeroth.
CAUTION: I’m a rather dark writer, and this is the part where it gets messy.
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Chapter II
Storming Stormwind
The Horde had met little oposition since it had broken through the Human blockade at the portal. Blackhand immediately sent warbands in all directions. The Horde rampaged across the the Human nation’s farmlands, slaughtering everyone they found. One of Blackhand’s generals, who had been making his way through the aptly named Swamp of Sorrows, had extracted the location of the Human’s capital. With this knowladge, the Horde turned as one towards Elwynn Forest.
Kagran stalked down the stairs into the cellar of the Human inn. The hum of sustained magic filled the small cellar. In the center of the room a human mage stood with glowing eyes and hands as he hurried townsfolk through a portal. “Where do you think your going?” Kagran said with a sadistic smile. The mage cast a fireball at Kagran, which he rolled under to close the distance. Kagran came out of the roll swinging his axe. Blood trailed across the room as the mage’s hand was severed. Seemingly with a single thought, the mage quickly drew raw energy to his hand and formed it into a sword. Kagran blocked the mage’s inital downward chop and knocked the bottom of his axe into the mage’s chest, knocking him against a wall. Kagran quickly followed with a downward chop of his axe, but the mage held his blade sideways infront of his face to stop the blow. As the axe stoped its arc however, Kagran simply smiled, and began using his axe to push the glowing blade towards the mage’s face. The smell of burnt meat and the mage’s screams filled the small space as the conjured sword cauterised its way nearly two inches into the mage’s face before he lost his concentration. The sword disolved into the air in wisps of blue smoke, and Kagran‘s unoposed axe made a squishing sound as it drove the rest of the way through the mage’s skull.
Kagran yanked his axe from what was left of the man’s skull, turning to the sound of the portal’s collapse. One unlucky human had seemingly only made it halfway through when the portal failed, because only half of him was teleported. It was then Kagran noticed not everyone had been evacuated through the portal. Kagran kicked the torsoless legs as he looked at the small collection of the humans that had gathered in the corner to stare at him in horror. Kagran raised his bloodied axe, smiled, and fell to the floor. Kagran felt pain runing through his body as his hands turned green before his eyes as his strength diminished. One of the humans began to reach for Kagran‘s axe. The humans suddenly began screaming, and Kagran looked up to see them engulfed in purple flames. As the humans crumbled to the ground Kagran stood and turned. An orc stood on the stairs in black robes, the purple flames gathered around his hands as a grin became evident under his hood. “So I see the demon blood has worn off.” The orc said.
“Demon blood? Is that the name they’ve given Gul’dan’s battle elixer?” Kagran asked as the other orc began laughing.
“Battle elixer? Is that what Gul’dan said to get you fools to drink it?” The orc said.
“What do you mean shaman?” Kagran asked.
“Well for one, The shamans are no more, we answer to greater powers now. We are warlocks, and our new power has no limits.” The orc answered. “We knew most of the clans wouldn’t willingly drink the blood of a demon willingly. But now that you’ve tasted its power, we will let you chose if you wish to retain the great strength it allowed you.”
Kagran inspected his now green arms. “So warlock, your deception has condemed me to live as a rainbow?”
The warlock chuckled. “No, that was a sidefect. From what we can tell, the blood mutates those that drink it. From now on, most orcs will be green.”
“Well atleast you took the time from your buisy schedule of scheming to explain things…” Kagran mocked.
The warlock took a sarcastic bow. “Kol’than the Demonologist, always available to ruin your day.”
As Kagran left the inn, he was imediately greeted by the smell of burning. It wasn’t a specific thing burning ethier. He stood in the center of the human town of Goldshire, and all around him buildings, bodies, and makeshift forges burned. As the town crumbled around them, the Horde was quickly turning the place into a warcamp. The town’s only forge had been repurposed to create axes and spears instead of the human’s flimsy swords or shields. The varied clans had each hoisted tents for their leaders, and grunts assembled outside each one. While every orc wore the red of the Horde, the clan flags were still emblazoned with a chaotic mixture of colors and symbols. At the center of the collection stood a massive tent with flags of red depicting a mountain in black draped across its sides. Kagran walked to the tent and entered. The massive orc at the center of the room was still red, a massive goblet of red liquid sat next to the orc’s antlered helm on the map he was looking over. Kagran imediately saluted Warchief Blackhand. “Your forces have finished clearing Goldshire Warchief. Some escaped through a portal that a human conjurer opened in the cellar. He has been put down, but nearly a dozen escaped to an unkown location.” Kagran said.
Blackhand grinned. “They know we’re coming. Maybe they’ll actualy make this fight a challenge for us. Where is Sergeant Corush?”
“Corush was ambushed when we entered the inn. It took four human swordsmen to bring him down.” Kagran answered.
“Pity, he was a good tactician. Take heart, tomarow we march up that hill.” Blackhand began as he pointed out the door to a road which wound its way up a small rise. Blackhand then raised his hand slightly, pointing to a massive keep at the end of the road. “Tomarow, we take Stormwind.”
Kagran took his place in the formation of grunts at the edge of Goldshire. As he looked around, he noticed many orcs were still red, but the vast majority were green. It seemed the warlock’s offers were not as popular as expected. Behind the army, catapults were moving into position. Peons worked hurriedly to push and load the great contraptions as thier handlers shouted endlessly. Warchief Blackhand stood before the army, flanked by Gul’dan and his favored General. Blackhand raised his waraxe and shouted “Catapults ready!”. All nine catapult handlers returned with a shout of “Yes, Warchief!”. Blackhand made a swift downward chop with his axe and nine massive boulders were hurled through the air at the gate of Stormwind. The massive wooden gates warped with the first blow, and as the final stone crashed into the gates, the left door splintered and tumbled from its hinges.
Kagran gripped his axe tightly as the door fell, and was nearly trampled as the Warchief shouted “For the Horde!” and every orc present began charging towards the opening. A line of soldiers stood ready with thier shields pressed together and thier swords ready. Blackhand knocked aside the shield of the nearest soldier and punched him in the helmet, caving the metal inward and sending a spray of blood out the bottom of the metal cylinder. The orc infront of Kagran wasn’t as quick, and was impaled on a human’s sword. Kagran ran up the orc’s body and jumped over the line of humans, imediately swinging his axe behind him as he landed. As the soldier’s legs and torso fell in opposite directions, another charged forward with his shield. Kagran sidesteped the crude charge, kicking the human in the back as he ran by. The footman fell to the floor, losing his sword as he fell. Kagran ran over to finish the footman off with a heavy downward swing. The human braught the shield up in time but the metal dented heavily inwards as the axe colided with it, and Kagran could hear the man’s bones shatering. Something brown moved past his vision then, and Kagran was knocked off his feet. As he struggled to his feet, he became suddenly aware of heavy footfalls all around him. Soldiers on screeching steeds had begun trampling the grunts. All around Kagran orcs were being impaled by the rider’s lances or knocked to the ground and trampled. The battle was lost, and Kagran was not the only one to notice it.
Warchief Blackhand drove his axe into the legs on one of the human’s mounts, sending it and the rider tumbling forward. He finished the human with a powerfull stomp on the man’s throat, and surveyed the battle. These new forces were decimating his grunts, and up above the Humans had began firing crossbows from the battlements. Blackhand punched another footman in the face, and raised his axe into the air. Blackhand liked to think he was a prudent tactician, and had made a backup plan in case the battle went less successfull than he had anticipated. “Fall back to the swamps!” the Warchief shouted as he comenced another swift downward chop of his axe. Every orc turned and ran down the hill as the catapults launched clay containers of burning tar towards the gates. As the projectiles impacted, a wall of fire began to seperate the human defenders and the orcish invaders. Blackhand sighed at the irony as his forces saught saftey in the Swamp of Sorrrows.
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Chapter III
Replenishing the Ranks
Kagran stared into the mist. Sometimes it felt like the mist stared back, but Kagran told himself that was crazy. Gul’Dan and his warlocks had conjured the mist around the Horde war camp in the Swamp of Sorrows to hide them from the pursuing Human knights. It seemed to have worked, because despite Kagran‘s expectations, no iron clad horsemen had come charging into the camp yet. It had been several days since the failed assault of Stormwind. Blackhand and the other clan leaders had rarely left the command tent. So naturaly, everyone was suprised when all the clan leaders exited the tent at once. Blackhand called for the assembled warrior’s attention. Blackhand looked over the sea of red and green grunts for a moment before he began. “Well. Looks like we finaly found a real fight!” Blackhand shouted, but there were no cheers this time. Blackhand frowned as he continued. “It is clear we must adjust our tactics if we are to drive away the Humans. All of you must report to your clan’s camps for your new posting and begin training imediately.” Again there were no cheers, the Horde simply and silently disperesed to see thier new jobs, and Kagran followed.
Kagran pushed his way through the crowd towards the board containing the dozens of varied lists and imediately began scaning it for his name. He ran his finger along the lists for raiders, then grunts, not seeing it on ethier one. He turned to the final and shortist list. At the top it read “Scouts” and at the bottom he found his name. Kagran looked confused for a second, then turned to the bored looking commander overseeing the board. “A scout? Have I somehow offended someone?”
The commander simply chuckled and said “I didn’t write the thing.”
“Wonderfull…” Kagran said as he started walking towards the scout tent.
As Kagran walked along the edge of the war camp, he couldn’t help starring into the mist again. Something about the warlock’s magics was disturbing to him. “Beautiful isn’t it?” A familiar voice said from behind Kagran.
“Are you ever going to walk up and say hello like a normal person Kol’than?” Kagran said as he turned to face the warlock.
“Perhaps you need to be more mindfull of your surroundings.” Kol’than said with a smirk.
“Are you done? I need to see to my “Honorable” scout training.” Kagran said with mild dissapointment.
“Yes I must see to my own training as well.” Kol’than said absent mindedly.
“Your training?” Kagran asked.
“If you remain so oblivious to the world around you, you’ll make a poor scout indeed.” Kol’than mocked. “Every clan recieved a training assignment. The Stormreavers are charged with instructing new warlocks and necrolytes.” Kol’than continued. “And before you ask, necrolytes are spellcasters who manipulate the magics of death and, more importantly, undeath.” Kol’than answered anticipating Kagrans next question. “Now if we’re done with the inquisition I’ll be off.” Kol’than finished cynicaly, before walking off towards a collection of black tents draped in midnight blue banners.
As Kagran entered the scout tent, he imediately noticed the other orcs had been gathered into pairs with the exception of a single grunt on the end. The instructer at the front of the group was already staring at him. “You are late Kagran.” the instructor said.
“I had trouble finding the training area.” Kagran said.
“I asked for punctuality, not excuses. Furthermore, why didn’t you just tell me you stoped for a chat with one of the warlocks?” The instructor said with an amused smile.
“How did you…” Kagran began.
“You will learn such things by being on time for your training, Scout Kagran.” The instructer said as his smile widened further. “We work in pairs. You will be working with Goral, the fellow who’s standing alone at the end of the formation as a result of your tardiness.” he continued as he pointed to a large, black haired grunt at the end of the line. “Now, as I was saying. I am Instructor Grax, and I will be teaching you to survive.” The instructor said as he resumed pacing infront of the assembled orcs.
“Survive what Instructor Grax?” one of the other grunts asked.
Grax stoped pacing as he faced the recruit. The smile returning as he said “Everything”.
Kagran was woken from his sleep that night by a shuffling noise near him. As Kagran looked around the barracks, he noticed Goral digging under his cot for something. “What exactly are you doing?” Kagran asked in curiosity. Goral imediately stood up and looked around.
“Light sleeper eh? Just um… adjusting the frame…” Goral stammered.
“Right… What have you got under there.” Kagran said only mildly amused by the pathetic lie.
“Fine. If I share some with you, will ya not tell anyone I got it?” Goral said as he glanced around the barracks to make sure no one else was awake.
“Share some of what?” Kagran asked again. Goral simply smilled and rolled a keg from under his cot.
“Grabed it from the inn when we hit Goldshire. Strong stuff.” Goral said as his smile widened. Both Goral and Kagran grabbed their canteens and began filling them from the keg. Goral raised his canteen up and thought for a moment. “To the spoils of war, partner.” he said as they both started laughing.
“For this next exercise we will be working on teamwork. One of you will be tasked with sneaking through the corse, while the other provides an overwatch.” Instructor Grax shouted as he gestured to the makeshift maze of stacked supply boxes. “Drunkards, you’re first.” he said as he pointed to Goral and Kagran. Both shot acusatory looks at eachother before Grax began laughing. “Nothing gets past me kiddies. Goral, your stealth. Kagran, you get overwatch.” Grax said with a chuckle. As Goral was ushered down into the course, Kagran was placed in a small alcove on top of the boxes. From here he could see the length of the maze, and a similar alcove at the other end. Then Grax handed Kagran a bundle of wooden sticks with rocks tied to the end. “These will simulate the spears you will be issued in the field.” Grax said before raising his voice for Goral to hear as well. “The goal of this is to get both of you to the other end of the maze without the sentry’s seeing you. The person on overwatch can remove a sentry by hiting him with a spear. Once a sentry is hit he will climb down into the maze, and the stealth may move him as he feels is necisary. When the stealth reaches the end, you will trade jobs, and the former stealth must provide overwatch for his partner as he sneaks through. Now, begin when ready.” Grax finished.
Kagran watched as the Goral began moving through the maze. Several grunts paced on top of the maze. As Goral was about to round the corner, one of the sentrys began nearing the edge of the box pile. Kagran hefted one of the spears and tossed it hastily. The spear seemed to wobble in flight and slamed heavily into the sentry’s should, causing him to yelp and tumble from the boxes noisily. Goral scowled for a moment but thought quickly and shoved the fallen sentry as far down the path he had come from, then ran ahead as quietly as he could manage. The three nearest sentries to the commotion ran over to where the most recent noise had come from, but frowned when they only found the dazed sentry in a sitting position. After a moment Kagran saw Goral climb into the oposing alcove and wave one of the training spears. Kagran droped into the maze and advanced in a low croutch. He wound his way through the path he believed he remembered Goral taking, only ocasionaly locating a dead end. He rounded a corner and saw the end, then a shadow on the walls as a sentry moved towards the ledge directly above him. A training spear flew from the alcove and into the sentry’s knee, causeing him to fall at Kagran‘s feet. Acting on instinct he hoped over the dazed orc and ran for the end of the maze. He didn’t stop untel he head Instructor Grax shout “Finished.” from his perch at the maze entrance.
Kagran and Goral struted back to the other Instructor Grax and the other recruits. “Will they try to find us next time Instructor Grax?” Goral asked sarcasticaly.
“Know Goral if you start boasting before we’ve even had lunch the other recruits will get all grumpy.” Kagran added.
“You two did okay for a first run. Grab some food and try to avoid your drink.” Instructer Grax said. “After the evening meal, you’ll do it again.” He continued with a sadistic smile.
“But… We just finished it.” Goral whined.
“You’ll run that course twice a day untell I can replace the sentrys with armed human prisoners without you being detected or needing the spears.” Grax said. “Now, go enjoy your lunch, Scouts.”
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Chapter IV
War Council
“You’re going back to that city?” Blackhand’s second in command asked.
“Of course! What do you think all this training has been for?” Blackhand almost shouted. “I underestimated the Humans. It will not happen twice.” Blackhand said as he turned to the other chieftens. “Alone you’re assignments have likely not made much sense, but together they will form an infalible attack that will coat the pirstine towers of Stormwind in human blood.” Blackhand said with a smile. He spun the map on the central table around to face the others in the room. “We will make the attack similar to the one before. The humans already believe us simply brutes and will prepare the same defence as last time.” Blackhand began. “Once the humans unleash thier knights, our new Worg riders will charge through the grunt ranks and meet them head on.” Blackhand continued as he traced the rout up the hill on the map. “Gul’dan, your Stormreavers will wait in the back of the army, when the raiders charge you may begin summoning your allies.” Blackhand stated as Gul’dan noded. “I’m sending our scouts ahead of the main force. They will move over the mountains between Blackrock Spire and Stormwind. Once they have crossed the mountain they will need to clear the battlements and be ready to strike at the humans below. Once the grunts are inside the city, they will join the main assault.” Blackhand said as he looked up. “How long will you need to get into position Grax?” Blackhand asked.
“Give us two days head start, and we’ll be ready by the time the catapults start tossing things at the gates.” Grax stated flatly.
“Good. All of you rally your forces. In two days, we march for Stormwind.” Blackhand ordered.
“Wake up kiddies! It’s killin’ time!” Grax shouted as he walked through the barracks. He ocasional stoped to give a swift kick or two when one of the orcs didn’t jump up quickly enough. “We got a day to get to Blackrock, and a day to get on top of the southern mountain range. Now quit wasting time and have your gear packed in fifteen minuets!” Grax continued shouting.
“What are we climbing a damn mountain range for Instructor Grax?” Goral asked bluntly.
“We’re the vanguard for the main force. Blackhand’s going to knock on Stormind’s door again and this time we’re gonna get comfy in Liane’s throne room. Now get packing.” Grax said.
Fifteen minuets later the scouts were assembled outside and staring at a collection of massive black dogs. “These will be your mounts for the journey. Take care of them and they will take care of you.” Instructor Grax said as he climbed onto the back of one of the beasts. The recruits quickly followed Grax’s example and climbed onto the back of a Worg.
“Not a bad beast to have carrying us eh Kagran.” Goral said as he pat the dog on the back of it’s neck.
“I don’t know Goral. I don’t think I’ll ever make the things an integral part of my life. Kinda scruffy looking.” Kagran said as he eyed the dog, which looked back at him with a low growl.
“Aww see. You already went and got it upset.” Goral said with a chuckle as the group bounded off to Blackrock Spire.
All was going exactly as it had before. The Grunts charged into Goldshire, meeting with only mildly more resistance than thier first attack had. Blackhand made certain to keep the Stormreavers and Raiders back from the main body. Let the humans think the Horde hadn’t learned it’s lesson. By the time the sun set tomarrow, the Horde would be in the streets of Stormwind shovling the human’s corpses out of thier new city. As warning trumptes sounded from behind the massive gates of Stormwind, Blackhand couldn’t help but smile.
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Chapter V
Lion’s Fall
There was the familiar crash as the gates of Stormwind caved in once more. Orcs cheered, ground was trampled, humans rushed to thier formations, all of it was watched by the scouting team assembled on the nearby mountain. Grax adjusted the patch that covered his left eye as he surveyed the distance to the human wall below. The plan was simple, rapel to the wall, kill the crossbowmen, borrow thier toys. All they needed to do was get down there. “Sink some steaks into the ground and tie off the repeling lines. Our que is coming up.” Grax said over his shoulder. Sure enough, the crossbowmen started shuffling out of the tower in an orderly fashion and took up positions on the wall. “Time to go kiddies!” Grax shouted as he grabbed a rope. He tested it once to check it was secure, and began hurriedly backing down the mountain.
Goral turned to Kagran as Grax began his decent. “Just for the record, I don’t like this plan.”
Kagran grabed one of the ropes, and tested it’s security. He looked back at Goral and covered his eye, then scrunched his face up a bit. “Come on Kiddies! It’s killin’ time!” Kagran mocked in his best “Old Person” voice as he began his decent. A few other scouts chuckled as they began thier decent. It was an agrivating process. Too slow and Kagran felt he was wasting time, too fast and he was going to be a splat on Stormwind’s battlements. It took several minuets for the scouts to reach the battlements. Each drawing thier weapons of choice.
The human crossbowmen turned, thier blue tabard whirling about them as they suddenly realised they now shared the small area with nearly a dozen orcish warriors. They stood for a moment locked in a comical expression of suprise, seemingly unser of what to do untell Grax charged and decapitated the closest crossbowman. The others hurried to fire thier weapons as others reached for shortswords, daggers, or anything else they could use in close-quarters. Kagran surged forward with his battle-axe held high. The scout to his right took a bolt to the chest, tumbling forward into a roll. Kagran reached the crossbowman within seconds and braught the axe down in a simple chop. The human tried to hold up his crossbow to block the blade, but the simple wood was no mach for an orcish axe. The blade drove through the crossbow and severed the human’s arm at the shoulder. The man stumbled a bit and leaned on the wall as he stared in dismay at where his arm once was. Kagran gave the man a swift kick and moved onto the next target before gravity finished painting the crossbowman across the bridge below.
Within a minuet the battlements were secure. “Grab the crossbows! Fire on the Knights when they charge!” Grax shouted down the line. Kagran grabed the nearest crossbow and yanked a quiver from one of the corpses. He imediately fired into the crowd of metal clad humans below. The arrow landing with a satisfying “Thunk” between a soldier’s shoulderpad and helmet.
Goral watched Kagran reload and fire again as he struggled with the crossbow’s loading mechanism. “How did you get yours to work?” Goral asked in frustration. Kagran simply reached over, and turned off the safety on the side. “Damn human contraptions.” Goral muttered as he began firing on the humans below.
“Here come the Knights! Take em down kiddies!” Grax shouted as the horsemen charged from the archways at the end of the stone bridge leading from the gate to the city. Then the true battle began. Down below, massive black wolves bearing howling orcs bound happily towards the human lines. The raiders lept over battling grunts and fleeing humans in thier frenzy to reach the more challenging Knights. Thier mounts would bite at the Horse’s legs while the riders battled above. Anything a raider didn’t cleave was soon finished with the clamp of a large canine maw. For a moment, Kagran just watched the display.
Then there was a loud thud next to them, and Kagran turned to this time certain what he saw was a monster. A creature stood on the battlements, ignoring the scouts and surveying the battle below with a prediter’s gaze. It had red skin covered in patches of blue plate armor. Hooves were present where feet should have been, and hornes jutted up from a canine-like face. In it’s right hand the demon clutched an oversized sword. Two more demons landed nearby, and the first stood with what Kagran could only guess was a smile. Thier swords became sheaded in green flames as they extended leathery wings from thier back and the demons decended onto the battle below. The demons cleaved Knights and crushed footmen under thier hooves as they led the warriors in thier first steps inside the walls of Stormwind.
Once inside the city, all tactics disolved. They simply weren’t needed anymore. Orcs, raiders, and demons, rampaged through the districts. The first district had clearly been a market of some form, now blazing brightly as warlocks threw spells into the buildings as they passed. Goral and Kagran had made thier way through the screaming human masses, ocasionaly stoping to clear a building or two. They came upon one the inn of one of the districts, and Kagran advanced inside while Goral watched the door. It was mostly empty, except for noises from the second floor. As Kagran stalked into one of the rooms, a woman in shoddy chainmail raised a sword and began shouting at him. “Well atleast you’re going to die with some dignity.” Kagran said as he raised his axe and advanced. The woman charged forward, making a deft swing at his side. Kagran idly caught the blade, a thin trickle of blood running out of his hand, then sent his axe biting through the chainmail and into her side. Her face contorted for a moment, first in shock, then rage. With her last breath she spit in Kagran‘s face, and fell to the floor. As he wiped the spit away he heard something crying from inside a dresser near the room’s window. Kagran flung the dresser door open, finding a pair of human children looking up at him with tear filled green eyes. They seemed close to the same age. The older one had short black hair, and seemed to stare at the woman on the floor. The younger had messy red hair, and stared right at him. Kagran frowned deeply and stared for a moment as he realised what he’d done, but then the familiar red haze engulfed his vision. Kagran‘s face turned grim as he reached down for the children against his will. In an instant however, the red haired child’s eyes glowed orange. The red haired child screamed and threw out his arms, sending a wave of fire rolling outward and blasting Kagran clear through the window.
Kagran struggled to stand as he woke from his sudden impact with the stone streets of Stormwind. He looked around, not seeing a single person in the area. Then an orc stumbled around the corner clutching a sword wound across it’s chest. Kagran grinned he recognised Kol’than’s midnight blue robes. “Having yourself some problems there warlock?” Kagran said with a sadistic grin. “Hold on, I should have a first-aid kit in my pack.” Kagran said as he kneeled down and began rummaging through his pack.
Kol’than grinned. “Oh, that won’t be neccisary scout.” Kol’than whispered as his hand became shrouded in an earie green glow. He advanced slowly on the un-suspecting scout, carefull not to sound rushed.
“Kagran, behind you!” Goral shouted as he charged at Kol’than, twin axes raised. Kagran turned just in time to see Kol’than sidestep Goral’s reckless charge and grab the back of his neck. Kol’than imediatley planted his glowing hand into Goral’s back and grinned. Goral tried to shout, but no sound came out. He seemed to age a lifetime in a matter of minuets as the wound on Kol’than’s chest began to rapidly heal of it’s own acord.
Kol’than smiled as he droped the skeleton that was once Goral onto the hard stone of the street. “You should be thanking your friend. Now I don’t need to kill yo-” Kol’than was cut short by the wet thump of something sticking into his back. He tried to turn, bearly able to glimpse the orcish battleaxe firmly planted in his spine. Kagran scowled at the pathetic display, and sent a swift kick into the side of the axe handle. Kol’than shrieked as the axe twisted and forcably re-arranged his spine, twitching on the ground for several moments before finaly sucumbing to death.
Kagran yanked his axe from Kol’than’s spine and turned to Goral’s body. “I’m sorry friend. I hope this vengance has braught you peace, or atleast a good laugh.” Kagran said as he stared into the empty eye sockets of Goral’s skull. With that, he hefted the axe onto his should and walked back towards the staging area.
Warchief Blackhand stood on the steps of Stormwind Keep and looked over his forces with a smile. “The Horde has claimed victory this day! Stormwind is ours!” Blackhand shouted as he raised his iconic greataxe into the air. He turned to the sound of footsteps, seeing his second in command aproaching. “Ah, General Doomhammer, you joined us at last! Have you secured the docks?” Blackhand asked his loyal general with a smile.
General Ogrim Doomhammer aproached his warchief with a casual smile. He proceded up the steps with a hastened pace. Then in one fluid motion, he drew his black iron warhammer and struck Warchief Blackhand with enough force to send his knock his head clean off his shoulders. As the crowd gasped Ogrim raised his bloody hammer and began to shout. “My brothers! You have been lied to!” Doomhammer began. Many orcs had unsheathed thier weapons, but no one was willing to interupt him. “The blight that afflicts dreanor is no natural plauge! It was created by Gul’dan so that we would be forced into action!” Ogrim continued, satisfied he now had thier full attention. “Gul’dan has made our warchief a puppet of the his “Shadow Council” and sent us here to conqure this world for thier demon masters!” There were mutterings of anger and suprise rippling through the crowd. Then almost as one they seemed to realise the warlocks were noticabley absent from the gathering. “This Shadow Council has been dealt with. We must now return our gaze to the more familiar foe now retreating across the ocean. The Humans run like frightened children on thier ships. We will begin imediately constructing out own ships and give chase. This world is now ours, and only ours!” Ogrim shouted with a grin. “I shall lead us in the coming wars. Should any wish to challenge my rule, let them step forward now.” Doomhammer said as he scanned the crowd. On of Blackhand’s sons began to step forward. Ogrim believed it was the one called “Rend”. Before he could say anything though, Rend’s brother, Maim, yanked him back into the crowd. “Then it is settled. We sail in persuit of the Humans.” Warchief Doomhammer grinned as he looked over the army… His army. “For the Horde!”
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Chapter VI
Lorderon
(( This chapter is intended to start from the WarCraft 2 intro. Here’s the link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZU-n8UZM5Cc ))
Kagran tensed as the cannons became visible along the walls of the Human keep. Why the entire fleet was sailing directly at a fortified blockade was still not entirely clear to him. As the first cannon whized past the scouting party’s small transport everyone began to take cover below deck. Everyone except Grax anyway. Kagran looked over the edge of the stairs to see the Instructor reclined on the front of the prow watching the battle. “Shouldn’t you take cover sir?” Kagran asked.
“And miss the show? If we get hit I’ll be done and gone while you kiddies get an extra few minuets to experience drowning.” Grax replied with a chuckle.
“Suppose you have a point there…” Kagran mumbled as he wandered back onto the deck. Kagran reflexivley ducked as another cannon soared within inches of the ship. The warships in the fleet began returning fire, blasting small portions away from the Keep’s walls. The transports began to race ahead of the fleet, heading towards the holes being exposed in the walls by the orcish warships. Overhead, the zeplins of the Horde’s new goblin allies began to float above the keep, droping ropes for thier passengers to repel from.
The scout’s transport drifted up to one of the holes in the Keep’s wall and Grax tossed down a plank between the boat and the opening. “It’s killin’ time kiddies!” he shouted as the scouts hurried across the unstable bridge. Kagran griped his axe and charged into the opening, the orc infront of him imediately taking an arrow in the neck and tumbling back out the hole. Kagran looked down the hallway in the direction the arrow came, noticing an overly tall human with oddly long ears stringing another arrow. Kagran ducked under the archer’s next shot and charged. He instinctively sliced the bow in half with his axe and raised the weapon above his head to finish the archer. The man quickly jabed Kagran in the chest, causing him to stagger, and reached for an ornate short sword at his side. Before the archer could draw the sword a knife whirled over Kagran‘s shoulder and into the archer’s face.
Grax ran up to the archer’s body and yanked his knife back out. “Gotta be quicker around elves Kagran.” He said as he continued down the hallway. Kagran looked over the archer again, trying to memorise the differences between an elf and a human for future reference. Kagran eventualy gave up and decided just to make a habit of cutting up the pink skinned things wearing blue and call it good, before moving on.
The Keep fell withing the hour. Warchief Doomhammer ordered massive Horde banners hung from the walls to signal the remaining transport ships of thier newly aquired port. The scouts surveyed the docks for survivors and salvage. Kagran found Grax in one of the civilian docks. The Instructor was looking over a large sign along one of the walls, aparantly trying to decipher some meaning from the Human’s garbled language. Grax suddenly began laughing, drawing looks from others around the room. “What’s it say Grax?” Kagran asked with mild curiosity.
Grax turned to the scouts and smiled. “Enjoy your stay in beautiful Lorderon!”
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Chapter VII
Making Friends
Johnathan slouched against the wall of the prison block. He was supposed to be keeping a close watch on the prisoners, but after a five hour shift with nothing but himself and the prisoners in sight boredum had begun to set in. He might have found the prisoners facinating except that they all seemed content to sit in the shadows at the back of thier cell and glare at him. His commander had taken every oportunity to spit out the line about safeguarding the future of Lorderon, but it wasn’t like these captives were going anywhere. “Five more days of this crap, then we hand you over to the elves and they come in to save us all from Stormwind’s big bag doomsday monsters.” John said with a noticable lack of care. Johnathan thought the whole thing was rediculous. A month ago shiploads of Stormwind refugees land in southshore screaming about demons, dimensional portals, and big green monsters. If John were a betting man, he’d say it was the very creatures they were imprisoning now, and the poor sheltered Stormwinders had never seen a troll before. He looked over at the prisoner’s leader, who John could only ever identify by the teal scarf wraped around his face. “Having fun in there oh mighty rulers of the forest?” John asked sarcasticaly.
The leader of the prisoners stood to his full hieght, towering over Johnathan, and steped up to the bars of his cell. The light showed his teal mohawk matching the color of his scarf, and the thin green moss covering the Amani’s skin. “When I get outa here, you be da first I kill.” Zul’jin promised, grining behind his scarf.
Grax reclined in his chair, looking over the Horde’s new base. Winter had fallen, and a thick layer of snow clung to Hillsbrad. Some of the younger grunts had made a sport out of building snowmen, then systematicaly decapitating them to see who could send the head the farthest. Grax laughed as one such snow head flew past him, nearly hiting one of his returning scouts. His demenor changed rapidly however, when the scout didn’t respond in any way and beelined for the Warchief. His curiosity rose even higher when the scout blatantly interupted the conversation Warchief Doomhammer was having with Rend Blackhand. Grax groaned as Rend noded to the Warchief and started striding towards him. Break time was over it seemed.
“Grab your shineist axes and spears, it’s rescuin time kiddies!” Grax shouted as he entered the barracks. Grax couldn’t help but grin every scout in the room gave him the same confused look.
As always, it was Kagran to ask the question they were all thinking. “Who are we rescuing?”
“The local Humans have captured the Troll leader Zul’jin. He commands the Amani empire and has been at war with the Elves for centuries. From what we can tell, the Elves are helping the Humans fight us, because the Humans are helping the Elves fright the Amani. Zul’jin is their latest contribution.” Grax explained.
“Unless we free him, harming thier allegance and making some new friends along the way?” Kagran asked.
“Thats the Warchief’s hope. He’s sending Rend along with us to ensure our success.” Grax said.
“Rend? To ensure the success of a stealth operation?” Kagran questioned.
“Wasn’t my idea. You’re free to go complain to the Warchief if you don’t like it Kagran.” Grax said as he walked back outside.
Two hours and several complaints from Rend later, the scouting party was at the prison perimiter. The group was in a small ditch looking through a batch of dense shrubs at a long guard patroling the doorway. “All our victorys, and they still don’t seem to think of us as a real threat.” Rend said as he glared at the sentry.
“This is a different clan. From what we can tell, they don’t have a high opinion of the people we defeated.” Grax explained. “Kagran, quick and quiet.” Grax orderd. Kagran hefted his axe and stood slowly, then charged it the sentry. His footfalls on the snow were agrivatingly loud, causing the sentry to notice him before Kagran was in striking distance. Kagran jumped as the sentry raised his shield, bringing the arc of his axe swing above the shield and straight through the sentry’s neck. The man droped his weapons and gasped as he clutched his throught. Kagran simply pushed the dieing man to the ground and motioned the others forward.
“This is where stealth ends brothers. Spread out and find the Trolls. Leave no witnesses!” Rend commanded as he kicked in the prison door. Rend decapitated the first human to try to stop them, while Grax threw knives into a pair of men playing a card game at the nearby table. The scouts split up after the main room was cleared. Kagran explored the hallways at a full sprint, stoping ocasionaly to investigate doorways. He looked around one corner, finding a short hallway ending with a reinforced door and a pair of determined looking guards. Kagran began to wonder if he could find the others, then the red haze surrounded his vision again and he calmly steped out into clear view of the guards. One guard swore, the other readied his shield. Kagran charged the one taking the time to swear, diving into a roll under thier initial sword swings. Kagran came out of the roll swinging his axe for the guard’s knees. He had what seemed to be too much success as his axe went straight through the man’s chainmail and into the door behind him, lodging firmly in the woord. He was forced to leave the axe to dodge the remaining guard’s sword. As the man shifted his footing Kagran grabed his sheild and shoved it back into him, smiling at the noise the shield made when it impacted the guard’s plate helmet. The guard shouted and attempted a sloppy downward chop. Kagran caught the man’s sword arm and redirected the blade cleanly into the guard’s chest.
As the man stumbled back against the wall Kagran yanked his axe from the doorway. He turned to the first guard, still rolling on the floor clutching where his legs had been severed. He braught the axe down, more to put the human out of his misery than any real attempt to end a potential threat. Kagran yanked his axe from the man’s torso and shouted down the hall “I think I found them!”
Johnathan clutched his sword tighter as the screaming outside the doorway stoped suddenly, and something yelled in a guteral language he didn’t recognise. It was quiet for a moment. Then someone tried to open the door. The things outside aparantly realised it was locked, because second later a grotesquely oversized axe cleaved through the lock. As the axe was pulled back, a glaring red eye looked at him from the other side of the hole in the door. The door opened slowly, revealing a towering green monster clutching a bloodstaned axe glaring down at Johnathan. He began backing up, untell he thuded against something. He remembered far too late that the Troll’s cell was behind him. A pair of green arms wraped around his vision, and the last thing Johnathan heard was the snap of his own neck.
Kagran watched as the Troll took the key’s from the dead guard’s belt and unceimoniously droped the man to the floor. “Told ya that was comin’ mon.” Zul’jin said as steped out of the cell. The rest of the scouting party came into the chamber as Zul’jin scooped up the guard’s sword. “I thank you for da assistance Orcs.” Zul’jin said as he idly tested the wieght of the blade.
“The Warchief wishes-” Rend began to say.
“I know exactly what da price of my freedom be mon.” Zul’jin interupted. “Now we gunu be wastin’ more time, or will ya be leadin’ me to ya Warchief?”
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Chapter IIX
Rise of the Black Tooth Grin
Kagran couldn’t help laughing as he entered the tavern. Imediately following the Horde’s latest capture of a small Lorderonian village, several peons had been dispatched to begin serving the remaining ale in the local tavern. Kagran steped over the broken corpse of a human as he crossed the room in search of a seat. He noticed Grax in the corner and grabed a chair off the floor, seting it down next to Grax’s table. “Mind if I have a seat sir?” Kagran asked.
“It’s a public bar kid, sit where you like.” Grax said with a chuckle. “Though since you’re hear, I’d like you to meet your new partner.” Grax said as he let out a sharp whistle and began waving someone over.
“I’m doing fine on my own Grax. No need to stick some poor newblood with me.” Kagran said.
“You’re not fine, but you’re not exactly geting stuck with a newblood ethier.” Grax said through a grin.
Kagran saw something lithe weaving between the crowd of warriors and turned to face it. “Peon! Bring me a-” Kagran began to saw before he got suddenly cut off.
“Excuse me, mon?” A rather annoyed Troll woman asked. She was dressed in a simple leather garb, with several handaxes ringing her belt. A bright red mohawk stuck out from the top of her hair, distuingishing her as an Amani Axethrower. The woman looked at Grax. “Dis an orc t’ing?”
“It’s an ignorant youth thing.” Grax said with a laugh. He looked at Kagran and motioned towards the Amani woman. “Kagran, meet Akija, your new partner.” Grax said.
Kagran looked back at Akija. “I um… thought that um… Sorry.” Kagran stammered.
Grax laughed again as he stood up. “Come on kids. The Blackhand boys wanted to talk to the clan.” Grax said as he walked towards the doorway.
The three pushed thier way through the growing crowd of orcs untell they could clearly see Rend and Maim Blackhand. The brothers stood on a raised platform. Most of the Blackrock clan had come to hear what the brothers were going to say, forming a sea of green faces and red shoulder pads infront of the platform. Rend grinned as he scanned the crowd before begining. “Brothers! Six years ago the Horde lost one of it’s great heroes, to his own general! Now he let’s the very warlock he claims is responsible for our Warchief’s supposed ‘corruption’ live? Is Ogrim truely fit to lead the noble Blackrocks?”
Maim picked up the speach without so much as a pause. “We ask that you join us! We shall greet these turbulant times and emerge anew! The honor and traditions of our people shall outlast this pretender through our new clan!”
Rend stepped forward, lifting the iconic battleaxe of the Blackhand family into the air. “Who among you will join us?” Almost two thirds of the assembled orcs raised thier voices in response. Akija spared a confused look at her surroundings as Kagran and Grax joined the rallying cry. Rend and Maim beamed as they watched the response they recieved. Nethier had thought they would recieve such support. “We are Blackrock no more. From now on, we shall be known as the Black Tooth Grin! Let all who dare opose the true sons of Blackhand learn true fear at our hands!” Rend concluded, drawing another roaring cheer from the orcs of the Black Tooth Grin clan.
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Chapter IX
Battle for Tol Barad
Sound filled the barracks. All around Kagran black armored warriors were preparing for battle. Grax had summoned the scouts to the war room. Kagran entered the small room, location an opening next to Akija. Grax had laid a map of the dwarven coastline across the central table, and was already launched into his briefing. “We’ll be moving ahead of the main force. Our task is to clear the Human harbor and repurposing it for the Amani navy’s use during the main battle.” Grax began.
Kagran leaned over to Akija and wispered “The Amani have a navy?”
Akija grinned. “We got lot’sa t’ings we don tell people ’bout, mon. Dat’s why dey called secrets.”
Grax glared at the two for a second before continuing. “Make this look good kiddies. This battle clearly isn’t the test of skill the Warchief told us it is. He wants to test the loyalty of Black Tooth and Amani alike. He wants to know that we will capture something simpley because he asked us to do it. Mark my words, twenty years from now no one will remember this ‘Tol Barad’ place.” Grax concluded.
It was an hour ride to the staging area. The scouting group consisted of a handfull of orcs and trolls, as well as a catapult. The Amani imediately took to the trees, bounding between branches as the orcs crept along beneath them. It wasn’t long before they met the first sentry. An elven ranger surveyed the area from atop a small rise. Grax gave a subtle whistle, and a second later an Amani throwing axe flew into the ranger’s chet. “Move the catapult onto that hill.” Grax quietly ordered. As the peons began moving the catapult, the rest of the group pressed on. Several more sentries were grabed by orcs or droped quietly from afar by the trolls. With the aproach clear, Grax gave a hand signal. The catapult fired, sending a large boulder crashing into the side of the Human barracks. With a roar the scouts charged into the town. Kagran and Akija raced to the Barracks to finish off the disoriented soldiers inside. Some of the Alliance forces had the presence of mind to raise weapons in time. Kagran blocked a blow from a human’s sword and kicked him in the chest to stagger him. Kagran braught the axe down on the human, then searched the area for more targets.
Akija stood at the center of a ring of broken and dismembered elven and human corpses. “What took ya so long?” She said with a grin. Kagran couldn’t help laughing as he walked back outside. The other scout pairs had already finished clearing the other buildings. A messanger was dispatche as the peons began refitting the costal town for naval use. The scouts gathered at the coast and awaited the next step of the invasion. Kagran watched as figures formed in the forg, and began closing.
“Are those Stromgarde ships?” Kagran asked.
“No humie’s gonna make a ship that fast, mon.” Akija said with a grin. The ships breached the fog, and Kagran grinned at the vessals. The Amani ships Had a single massive leather sail over the top with the Horde symbol recently painted acrosst it. The main body of the vessel was a dark metal bristling with cannons. The boat itself seemed to be held up by a massive animal tusk on ethier side of the vessel. Behind each warship there was a smaller craft being towed. One by one these craft were released and thier crews rowed them to shore. The transports looked to be made almost entirely from large bones, with a large leather canvas spread over the top.
“Into the transports kiddies! We’re meeting the main force at Tol Barad.” Grax shouted as the warriors crammed into the small transports. Kagran was forced to the middle, unable to see what was happening outside the boat. He heard a cascade of explosions outside as the Trolls and Humans engaged in naval combat. To thier credit, the peons along the edges of the ship’s cabin kept rowing as if nothing was happening. The ship gave a sudden lurch and the ramp at the front dropped down. The warriors surged out of thier transports to meet the enemy, only to find a blank stone wall mere feet from the transports. “Where is the gate? Where the fel did we get droped?” Grax shouted. “We don’t have time for this. Flank right.” Grax ordered.
The group wandered the edge of the wall before coming to an odd break. The back half of a lumber mill reached through the wall, with an opening aparantly intended for trees to be inserted from outside. Grax looked the mill wall over with a grin. “Amani, can you climb this?” Grax asked, recieving a nod from the trolls. “Get on the roof and wait untell we’re through. Kagran, get chopping on that wall.” Grax ordered. The Trolls began scaling the woodan surface, using thier axes to make handholds along the way. Kagran steped up to the wall and leveled his axe. He made four downward slashes into the wal, then three horizontal. With a swift kick the area caved in and formed a hole large enough for the orcs to fit through one at a time. The terified workers bearly had time to scream as the orcs moved through the mill. Once Kagran was outside a batch of Human soldiers finaly realised thier breach in security. The humans charged towards the orcs, only to be cut down by a hail of axes from the rooftop above. The Trolls droped down among the orcs, and the group wordlessly broke into thier pairings again.
“Looks like a commander to the north, near the gates.” Kagran said, pointing out the armored man to Akija. “Think you can get his forces away from him?” Kagran said, pointing to a nearby trio of elven archers.
“Not a problem, mon.” Akija said as she ran a head. “‘Ey knife-ears! Catch!” Akija shouted, hurling an axe into the nearest elf without breaking her sprint. She turned mid stride and began running through a section of structures, the elves eagerly following. Kagran took the oportunity to charge at the human commander. The man sidesteped Kagran‘s charge, slaming the pommel of his claymore into Kagran‘s back as he ran by. Kagran stummbled and turned, raising his axe to block the human’s horizontal swing. The commander’s sword sliced cleanly through the haft of Kagran‘s axe, and continued to carve a deep gash into his chest. Kagran clutched his wound as he fell to the floor and his vision began to blur. The human stood over him and raised the claymore. Kagran closed his eyes and waited for the end, untell he heard a wet “Thump” above him. He opened his eyes to see the commander starring in shock at the throwing axe firmly embedded in his face. Akija walked up to the man and casualy shoved him. The man tumbled to the floor with ease and Akija knelt over Kagran. “Dis ain’t as bad as it looks, mon. Come un, let’s get ya up.” She said as she helped Kagran stand, slinging his arm over her shoulder. Then the front gate of the human stronghold burst open, filling the area with smoke and debris. Outside the gate the remaining Black Tooth Grin forces had assembled. Out in the sea the Troll Destroyers drifted idly among the ruins of the Stromgarde navy.
Rend and Maim stood in the remains of the shattered doorway at the head of the Black Tooth Grin invasion force. Rend raised the Blackhand Doomsaw into the air and shouted “Tol Barad belongs to the Black Tooth Grin!”
