"Jaina, that woman, she's really gone too far."
In Orgrimmar, the Allied Forces meeting had just ended when Garrosh stormed out of his tent, furiously whipping his Worg.
The Worg was named Thrall, in order to humiliate its old rival.
The Orcs were exceptionally close to the wolf riders, treating them like family.
But that only applies to ordinary Orcs soldiers, since they can only afford to raise one Worg in their lifetime, so they naturally cherish it.
Garrosh, who owns hundreds of Worg, naturally wouldn't value this herd of livestock.
"Thrall" howled in agony, covered in blood, and looked at its master with a pitiful expression.
Just now, Jaina, disregarding everyone's objections, insisted on launching a war against the Kingdom of Stormwind.
Leading the charge were Garrosh's Lightforging Quilboar.
Under the gloating gazes of Sylvanas and Magatha, Garrosh had no choice but to reluctantly agree.
Many times, Garrosh felt like a piece of trash, Worg that Jaina could ride on and whip at will.
Anger and resentment made Garrosh increasingly irritable, and his whip rained down until Thrall coughed up blood and collapsed to the ground, unable to get up.
It's just a Worg; if it can cheer Garrosh up, it has already served its purpose.
Garrosh waved his hand, ordering his personal guards to carry Thrall away, and then silently pondered a solution.
He certainly wouldn't actually fight for Jaina. There were some die-hards among the Quilboar who were secretly plotting and refusing to obey orders, so let them go to their deaths.
That's what we'll do.
Garrosh felt a bit better and returned to his lodgings for dinner, which consisted of a deliciously roasted Pandaren.
The golden Pandaren sat cross-legged on the plate, lifelike. Garrosh picked up his knife, ready to dig in, when a figure suddenly appeared.
It was a human wearing a black robe, with a thin face, black hair, and a black beard. He nodded to Garrosh and then disappeared.
Garrosh panicked, dropping the knife from his hand onto the table, and frantically looked around.
"Are you looking for me?" the golden-brown Pandaren asked.
Garrosh, stunned, realized this was a masterful spell. Using the roasted Pandaren as a pretext, he hurriedly asked, "What advice do you have for me, sir?"
The Pandaren grinned, revealing a set of pearly white teeth. "Garrosh, I once had high hopes for you, and I helped you replace Thrall, but you have disappointed me greatly."
Garrosh was filled with apprehension, his shoulders trembling as he said in a shaking voice, "I'm sorry."
The Pandaren sighed, "The Holy Light gave you a new life, and I hope you can learn from your past mistakes. But I don't understand, you can't even handle little Jaina? Where's the courage you had when you blew up Theramore? You know, you're like a dog Jaina keeps now."
Garrosh lowered his head dejectedly, resignedly saying, "I admit, whether in strength or methods, I am no match for her."
The Pandaren said with exasperation:
"Strength and methods are secondary; you've lost the courage Orcs should possess. The people of Kingdom of Stormwind have been infected by the Unholy Holy Light. Jaina ordered you to be the vanguard, but in reality, she was using you as a test. If you are Corruption the Unholy Holy Light, you will become a pawn of the Army of the Light, losing everything you have, like a lost soul. You are doomed, Garrosh."
Garrosh was terrified and immediately knelt on the ground. "My lord, save me!"
The Pandaren scoffed, "You already know it's a trap, do you still have the guts to defy Jaina?"
Garrosh clenched his fists in anger, but eventually loosened them little by little, his ferocious face relaxing, looking somewhat comical. He simply didn't have the courage to confront Jaina head-on.
The Pandaren said helplessly, "It seems you can't deal with Jaina without my help. For some reason, I can't act directly and must rely on trickery."
Garrosh's eyes lit up; this was exactly his favorite method.
The Pandaren paused, then continued, "I once cursed a group of traveling merchants, turning them into Black Knights to help me plunder artifacts and excavate Titans Ruins. In the Barrens, the Black Knights unearthed something terrible, forcing them to seal it away, only to be discovered by a group of Dwarves not long after."
Garrosh thought for a moment, then tentatively asked, "The Bael Modan Digsite in the Barrens?"
The Pandaren nodded. "The Dwarves believe this is a Titans Ruins, where they once unearthed a cursed artifact called the Tears of the Moons. Foolish Dwarves, they don't know that the Bael Modan Digsite hides a terrible secret, a power they cannot control."
Garrosh asked curiously, "What exactly is hidden inside?"
The Pandaren sneered, "If I tell you the truth, I can't fool Jaina. Send your most trusted confidants to conquer the Bael Modan Digsite, drive out the Dwarves, and do it as discreetly as possible. Don't worry about Jaina not finding out; she's already planted spies among you. Jaina is too greedy; that's her weakness."
Garrosh understood, forcing an awkward smile, "Thank you for your help, sir."
The Pandaren was tilted to the left, its neck was broken, and its head fell to the ground, rolling around.
Without delay, Garrosh skipped dinner and immediately began preparations. A group of Lightforging Quilboars took advantage of the darkness to attack the Bael Modan Digsite.
After a fierce battle, most of the Dwarves at the Bael Modan Digsite were killed, and General Tarvenblad led a small number of Dwarves in a breakout, escaping into Dustwallow Marsh.
Garrosh's secret operation did not escape Jaina's notice. Jaina was too familiar with Dustwallow Marsh; she sent her trusted confidants who successfully located Tarvenblade.
Despite the filth of the swamp, Jaina personally entered Dustwallow Marsh.
Tarvenbright, covered in blood, his purple beard stained with blood, stared coldly at Jaina with a look of disdain.
Jaina smiled and said, "Garrosh hates me. I guessed he would take action. I didn't expect the raid on the Bael Modan Digsite. Tell me, what's hidden there? Of course, you don't have to tell me. I have ways to make you talk."
Tavenblad roared defiantly, "Dwarves will never yield to torture!"
Jaina shook her head and laughed, "Torture? You underestimate me. You know I'm a Mage; magic can make you submit and tell me everything."
Tavenblad's eyes darted around. "Alright, I'll tell you. There's something strange about that excavation site. We once unearthed a cursed artifact called the Tears of the Moons, which turned one of our workers into Trogg. I realized the danger and was planning to end the excavation, but Ironforge kept pressuring me. To be honest, although we've been excavating all these years, it's really just for show."
Jaina asked with interest, "What kind of danger is it?"
Tavenbright honestly replied:
"A terrible curse. We initially thought it was Curse of Flesh, but as we dug deeper, we realized something was amiss. We unearthed a huge cavern emanating a terrifying pressure, as if a dragon lurked within. Even the bravest Dwarves dared not enter. We once experimented with a deer, tethered by a rope, herded it into the cavern, and then pulled it out. It transformed into a young Thunder Lizard. No one can offer a reasonable explanation."