The messenger, panting heavily as he ran, was a young Orcs named Fidipite. He was usually rewarded for delivering good news, at the very least receiving a good meal.
Fidipite wiped the sweat from his brow as he watched a large group of Orcs gather around him.
Life in the Great Den was extremely harsh, with a severe shortage of food. Only Garrosh and his generals were able to eat their fill, while ordinary soldiers had to dig for shells on the beach to stave off hunger.
In the blink of an eye, Fidipite was knocked to the ground and, before he could even cry out, was devoured by the starving soldiers.
Garrosh continued playing chess with Rokhan, a smile on his face.
In Orgrimmar, the short Orcs waited for a long time, until the sun was about to set, but Warchief Garrosh never appeared.
The short Orcs thought something had happened to the messengers, so he sent out seven messengers at once.
The seven messengers also disappeared without a trace. They waited until dawn, but the Warchief still hadn't returned. The short Orcs looked bewildered, feeling that something had gone wrong.
Orgrimmar was currently calm. The small Orcs thought long and hard but couldn't come up with a good solution, so he could only send out more messengers.
The sun set once again, and still there was no news. The great Den in the Valley of Trials seemed like a black hole, swallowing up countless messengers.
When the sun rose again, panic finally broke out among the people of Orgrimmar. Cho'gall had taken most of the food with him when he left, and the little food left had long since been eaten.
The small Orcs could only order his Elites to appease the people. In chaotic times, severe punishments were necessary, and all those who dared to resist were to be killed. Faced with the horrific carnage, the crowd's emotions were finally calmed down.
Having exhausted all other options, the short Orcs dispatched a messenger team of five hundred men, led by several Elite Orcs, including the short orc's most trusted confidants.
Even if something happens to a group of five hundred people on the way, at least they can send a message back, which is better than them disappearing inexplicably.
Another day and night passed, and there was still no news from the five hundred Orcs.
Chaos broke out among the people again, with rumors spreading that Warchief Garrosh had abandoned the people of Orgrimmar. The small Orcs had no choice but to suppress the rebellion once more, resulting in the deaths of five thousand Orcs.
Days passed, and on the fifth day, the small Orcs, in order to maintain Order, executed more than 20,000 civilians, whose Orcs provided food for the people.
Instinctively, the small Orcs realized something and dared not go to the Valley of Trials himself. However, the situation in Orgrimmar deteriorated day by day, and the hungry Orcs continued to kill each other.
In less than two weeks, Orgrimmar was reduced to half its Half-Orcs.
The diminutive Orcs used the cruelest punishments to suppress all resistance; the walls of Orgrimmar were covered with Orcs heads.
Finally, the diminutive Orcs was greeted by Warchief Garrosh.
Garrosh led 20,000 fully armed elite soldiers into the lifeless Orgrimmar. The small Orcs, overjoyed at the news, rushed out to greet him, kneeling before Garrosh and weeping bitterly:
"Warchief, you have finally arrived! The people of Orgrimmar are blessed; they have finally waited for this day."
Garrosh gave a sinister smile, "I know you. What's your name?"
The short Orcs said obsequiously, "My name is..."
Garrosh raised his right foot and stomped hard on the little man's back, breaking his spine with a crack. The little man screamed in agony.
"Your name is insignificant; history need not remember you," Garrosh sneered, then loudly ordered, "Dismember this vile traitor and devour him!"
A large group of Orcs rushed over, grabbed the small Orcs's limbs, and pulled him outwards with force.
The small Orcs let out a pitiful wail and asked in bewilderment, "Warchief, why is this?"
Garrosh said coldly:
"Because you are all shameless the Betrayer, you once sided with that Ogre, your bodies are defiled inside and out. I only need the purest and most loyal Orcs, not you hopeless traitors. I am the great Garrosh Hellscream, and you have no right to live under my rule."
Then, Garrosh's eyes lit up, and he excitedly gave the order:
"Slaughter the city, leave no one alive."
Although Orgrimmar still had 100,000 Orcs, they had experienced panic and hunger, and lacked weapons and armor, making them no match for Garrosh's forces.
A one-sided massacre ensued, with civilians being brutally dismembered and turned into Tough Jerky.
The short man's limbs were torn apart, and he fell to the ground in agony, emitting weak groans.
"Born Orcs of Orgrimmar, will die a ghost of Orgrimmar. I have no regrets in my life; it was all worthwhile."
"Ha ha!"
Garrosh laughed arrogantly, "You think this is the end of it? The day Cho'gall entered Orgrimmar, you should have died instead of living in humiliation. Now, you need to accept the cruelest punishment. Traitors never have a good end."
A chilling wind swept through Orgrimmar.
It was a jet-black airship, painted with the symbol of Undercity, which landed in front of Orgrimmar. The Dark Lady Sylvanas led a squad of Undead Mage off the airship.
"Warchief Garrosh, is this the gift you gave me?" Sylvanas asked, her eyes narrowed, sensing the countless Restless Souls lingering above Orgrimmar.
Garrosh nodded, grinning maliciously. "What do you intend to do with them? Turn them into Ghouls, or let them become wraiths wandering the sewers of Undercity?"
Sylvanas said expressionlessly:
"The Wraith Tower was invented by the Forsaken to provide dark energy to Undercity. However, it requires far too many vengeful spirits and has never been completed. I sense the resentment within the souls of the Restless Souls, and I will send them into the Wraith Tower to suffer endless torment forever."
The little man, still breathing, trembled with fear upon hearing the Dark Lady's introduction:
"No, you can't treat us like this! We reclaimed Orgrimmar, we did it! Oh God, someone save us!"
Rokhan, said grimly, "Interesting. Your ambition has finally been exposed. Compared to the supreme glory of the Warchief, your actions are insignificant."
Garrosh crushed the little man's skull with a stomp, spitting out, "A bastard is a bastard, and that will never change. Sylvanas, I'm very satisfied with your proposal."
Dozens of Undead Mage gathered together and began summoning the Restless Souls of the dead from Orgrimmar. They also removed the bones of tens of thousands of Orcs. After everything was finished, Sylvanas boarded the airship and said to Garrosh, who had come to see her off:
"Warchief, thank you for your generosity. In return, I have some news for you."
Garrosh said nonchalantly, "Orgrimmar will soon prosper again. The Bronze Dragonflight will bring me new, loyal Orcs. I hope you bring good news."
Sylvanas smiled and said, "Thrall has arrived, leading tens of thousands of Orcs to land at Rustwater Port. The fickle Gallywix has betrayed us."
"Damn it, when did this happen?" Garrosh exclaimed in shock.
Sylvanas chuckled, "It's been many days. Judging by the time, Thrall's army is almost at the back gate of Orgrimmar."
Garrosh felt dizzy and regretted executing the people of Orgrimmar.