Gorgrond, with Destroyer Dov to the west and Tarlna the Ageless to the east, is a hill-like Magnaron and an immortal Genesaur of the jungle.
The Blackrock Orcs had long heard of these two powerful beings. Originally, with the Sword Blademaster Hannibal in charge, the Blackrock Clan blindly trusted their chieftain, believing that they couldn't withstand a single sword strike from Hannibal.
Now that Hannibal is gone, the burden of fighting against these two falls on Blackhand's shoulders.
Blackhand was unsure what to do, and Orgrimmar cautiously suggested:
Don't go.
The Iguana People, acting as a messenger, curled his lip in mockery, grabbed a piece of meat, and chewed it heartily.
"Before becoming chief, you must not have known what meat tastes like."
That's true. During Hannibal's reign, the Blackrock Orcs subsisted on vegetables, fruits, grass roots, and tree bark, only eating noodles during festivals.
Meat, it is said, is harmful to the Orcs' bodies, it is poison, and only the Warchief reluctantly tested it on himself.
After becoming chief, Blackhand struggled to resist temptation, but ultimately succumbed to the aroma of roasted meat.
Having gained the approval of the Fire Elementals, which should be able to neutralize the poison in the meat, he instructed Hannibal's personal Chef to prepare roasted meat.
Orgrimmar avoids meat like the plague.
The female Orcs are also said to be poisonous, and even more deadly, though Orgrimmar remains skeptical.
The Iguana People wiped the oil from his mouth:
"Unfortunately, there's much more you don't know. For example, your Blademaster Hannibal's power comes from the Destroyer Dov."
"Lie!"
Even after Blademaster Hannibal, Blackhand still wanted to uphold the dignity of his predecessor, the chieftain.
"Nonsense."
Orgrimmar nodded in agreement, carefully observing the Iguana People, hoping he would succumb to the poison.
Unfortunately, the Iguana People showed no signs of poisoning.
"I'm telling you, the Blademaster Hannibal is still alive. If you don't go, he will replace you as chieftain of the Blackrock Clan. A bunch of fools, do you really think the Blackrock Orcs are the masters of Gorgrond? They're nothing but a bunch of lowly slaves."
The Iguana People, having eaten his fill of roasted meat, left with a satisfied burp.
Blackhand and Orgrimmar exchanged glances.
Orgrimmar stared at the roasted meat on the table, the enticing aroma filling his nostrils and making his mouth water.
"I think Hannibal is a liar, at least he lied about the female Orcs, I tried it."
"You've tried it?" Blackhand's eyes widened. In the Blackrock Clan, that would get you hanged.
Orgrimmar nodded:
"Hannibal selected the strongest Orcs and impregnated the female Orcs. Before long, the strongest Orcs became skin and bones, dying horribly. We all saw it with our own eyes, so we believed it without a doubt. But I always felt that something was wrong. What we see may not be the truth. Perhaps Hannibal poisoned the Orcs."
Blackhand grabbed a piece of roast meat, put it in his mouth and chewed slowly. An indescribable feeling of happiness filled his mouth, and tears welled up in his eyes.
"It's not poison, this is the Orcs' food." Blackhand's eyes welled with tears, and he finally felt truly alive.
Orgrimmar gritted his teeth, trembling as he grabbed a piece of meat and put it in his mouth. The roasted meat almost melted in his mouth, and Orgrimmar was so happy that he wanted to kneel down.
"Hannibal is a liar, we've all been fooled. The Iguana People might be telling the truth."
Blackhand chewed the roasted meat slowly and said:
"I gained the power because I received the approval of the Fire Elementals. Hannibal is just an ordinary Orcs. I understand now. I must go see Destroyer Dov."
No one knows Destroyer Dov lived. Long ago, the Magnaron were far more numerous than they are now, vying with the Genesaur for supremacy over Draenor.
However, with the changing climate, the Evergrowth Jungle, on which the Genesaur depended for survival, shrank, and Magnaron found it difficult to find food. As a result, many Magnaron underwent physical changes and degenerated into smaller Gronn.
Destroyer Dov, an ancient relic who has lived for countless centuries, is not as simple-minded as he appears. He has survived to this day because he has always adapted to the changes of the times.
Blackhand and Orgrimmar nervously entered the lair of the Destroyer Dov, only to find an Ogre covered in thick, armored leather.
"Don't be surprised, I am Destroyer Dov. This is just a simple transformation spell. I once studied in Highmaul. My knowledge of magic far surpasses that of any Ogre Mage. If one day the Orcs become the masters of Draenor, I will also transform into Orcs."
Blackhand and Orgrimmar stared blankly at the Ogre before them, completely bewildered.
Destroyer Dov led the way, taking the two to a warehouse deep underground.
"The Blackrock Mine yields countless magical gems every year, especially the precious Apexis Crystals, enough to feed every headless Orcs with meat every day. Do you know where these gems go?"
The heavy stone door of the warehouse slowly opened, and the dazzling light blinded the two Orcs.
It took Blackhand quite a while to adjust to the dazzling light. Inside the warehouse of the Blackrock Foundry, countless gems were neatly arranged, categorized by type, like small mountains.
These were earned with the blood, sweat, and lives of the Orcs.
Blackhand's hands trembled uncontrollably; he now finally believed that Blademaster Hannibal, was merely a puppet of Destroyer Dov.
"I want everything to remain the same. You are intelligent Orcs; in the face of world-destroying power, submission is the best choice."
While Blackhand was still hesitating, Orgrimmar had already knelt down.
After Blackhand and Orgrimmar visited the Destroyer Dov, the Blackrock Clan quickly returned to normal.
The Blackrock Orcs continued to work tirelessly day and night, even more so than before.
Blackhand Blackhand a better method than Blademaster Hannibal; he selected a group of overseers solely to supervise the work of the Blackrock Orcs.
Originally, Warlord Hannibal was only supervising the Orcs' work, so it was inevitable that some Orcs would hide in corners and slack off.
With the overseers in place, the Blackrock Orcs' laziness became a thing of the past, and many more Blackrock Orcs died from exhaustion.
Before Grimak lay an unconscious Iguana People, who grinned at Garrosh and said:
"Indeed, the Blackrock Clan is on the right track. It won't be long before they join the Iron Horde, and the Blackrock Foundry will become a massive armory."
Garrosh didn't quite understand. "With Blackhand's approval from the Fire Elementals and the support of Destroyer Dov, how could he willingly submit to someone else?"
Grimak smiled faintly and said:
"First of all, Destroyer Dov is one of ours. Do you really think he learned his magic on his own? Secondly, the Burning Legion's Fel Fire far surpasses the Flames of Draenor. Gul'dan is Blackhand's nemesis. As long as Gul'dan intervenes, Blackhand will surely submit."
Grimak's gaze drifted northward to the snow-covered Frostfire Ridge, and he frowned as he said:
"Now we face the toughest nut to crack among the Seven Heroes of Draenor. Let's hope everything goes smoothly."
Garrosh was secretly puzzled that Grimak, who was usually so composed, seemed to lack confidence.
Frostfire Ridge, the homeland of the Frostwolf Clan. According to Garrosh, the leader of the Frostwolf Clan should be Durotan, Thrall's father.
He was probably the least outstanding of the Seven Heroes of Draenor.
Why does Grimak look so alarmed?