Thrall handed the small vial to Rokhan and explained, "Long ago, Mannoroth dripped his blood into a spring. The Orcs drank from the spring and gained immense Fel. Although this drop of Orcs blood essence is not as powerful as Mannoroth's Blood, it is enough to grant the Darkspear Horde Fel after dilution."
Rokhan trembled as he took the small bottle, as if he were holding the lives of the Darkspear Tribe, carefully examining the ominous aura within.
Thrall grabbed the Troll woman who was wailing in pain, bit off her arm, and chewed on it.
"Rokhan, this is all I can do to help. The rest is up to you. Whether you hand this bottle directly to Chief Sen'jin or try to put it in the water source of the Darkspear Royal Palace, it's up to you. But I must warn you, time is running out. The Darkspear Tribe is not the Scourge; they cannot withstand the Burning Legion's attack."
Rokhan thanked him profusely, clutched the vial tightly, and took his leave with Thrall.
Back in his room, Rokhan's face relaxed, but he immediately broke into a sweat, his clothes soaked through, as if he had escaped from a den of demons.
Rokhan was an extremely clever man, Thrall's explanation that the vial could bring Fel power to the Darkspear Tribe was clearly utter nonsense.
Thrall, who could devour a Zandalari Trolls alive in front of Rokhan and showed absolutely no mercy, how could he possibly care about the Darkspear Tribe?
The vial likely contains the essence of Orcs blood, but it will not impart Fel to the Darkspear Tribe.
Instead, it brings destruction; if I'm not mistaken, the essence of blood is used to cause Plague.
The Plague that destroyed the Kingdom of Lordaeron originated from the blood of the Orcs.
Rokhan was in a very conflicted state of mind. Thrall's purpose in lying was to reduce Rokhan's psychological pressure. He could pretend to be confused and, with the good intention of saving his people, put the blood from the vial into the water source of the Troll Royal Palace.
After all, Rokhan was originally the Captain of the Guards of the Royal Palace guard and still had secret connections.
Then he said he had been tricked and blamed Thrall for deceiving him.
If he refused, Rokhan would hear the sounds of the Orcs patrol outside the tent; his tent was already under close surveillance, and escape would be impossible.
Although Rokhan cared deeply for the Darkspear Tribe, he still hesitated when it came to risking his life to protect them—that's what makes a wise person different.
It's better to pretend to agree and then find a chance to escape.
But Rokhan quickly denied it; Thrall was such a shrewd Orcs, he would never give him that chance.
Rokhan tossed and turned all night, unable to sleep. Just as dawn broke, a Troll suddenly crawled into the tent. It was a tall Troll, no longer young, with sharp fangs and cunning eyes.
"Vol'jin, how could it be you?" Rokhan stared at the Troll in surprise.
"What, Rokhan? You can side with the Orcs, but I can't?" Vol'jin sat down, his golden horse wielding a greatsword. He immediately understood Rokhan's weary expression. "Haven't you made a decision yet?"
"I never expected Thrall to send you as an envoy." Rokhan glared resentfully at Vol'jin. "It's all your fault! You were the one who said the Orcs had the help of the Red Dragonflight and the Burning Legion as their backers, and look what happened!"
Vol'jin shrugged, spreading his hands innocently, and said, "I didn't expect the situation to develop this way either. The Red Dragonflight was actually defeated by the Kul Tiras navy, and the Burning Legion withdrew from Lordaeron on its own initiative. But don't forget, the Red Dragonflight only lost a hundred adult Dragons, and the Burning Legion on Azeroth is only a small part of the Burning Legion."
Rokhan looked up at the top of the tent and said in a deep voice, "Of course I understand that principle, but that is not a reason for me to betray my people. I will not use their lives to gain my own glory and power. I cannot do it."
Vol'jin looked utterly disappointed. "Rokhan, you've disappointed me greatly. This talk of the Darkspear Tribe's glory is just a trick Sen'jin used to deceive us. You need to think long-term. The Darkspear Tribe has already been declared extinct by the Legion. Your decision is utterly insignificant. If you don't betray the Darkspear Tribe, plenty of Darkspear Trolls will be eager to do it."
Rokhan roared defiantly, "This Troll can be anyone, it can't be me!"
Vol'jin smiled faintly, "Don't you understand, Rokhan? Thrall didn't send me to persuade you, but to ask for your decision. I'm only saying all this out of friendship. Don't blame me for not warning you, if you refuse, Thrall will eat you, torture you for thirty whole days before you breathe your last."
Rokhan felt a chill run down his spine upon hearing this. He was willing to sacrifice himself to save the Darkspear Tribe, but Thrall's methods were too cruel, which instilled in him a deep, instinctive fear that overwhelmed his loyalty to the Darkspear Tribe.
"Vol'jin, I understand now. You want to be the chieftain of the Darkspear Tribe. The position of chieftain has driven you completely mad." Rokhan glared at Vol'jin through gritted teeth. "For the position of chieftain, you'll do anything."
Vol'jin chuckled smugly, "That's right, Thrall has promised me. Once the Darkspear Tribe is destroyed, I will be the chieftain of the Darkspear, a true hero, destined to be remembered in history."
"Without the Darkspear Tribe, what is the point of your chieftainship?" Rokhan questioned.
Vol'jin raised his head and proudly announced:
"All I care about is the chieftainship of the Darkspear, not whether I rule over the Trolls of the Darkspear Tribe. The Sen'jin family sacrificed 500,000 Darkspear Tribe to gain chieftainship; I only sacrificed 300,000, far more merciful than Sen'jin's ancestors. History only sings the praises of the victors. I, Vol'jin, will surely become a great chieftain, a great hero of Azeroth, a legendary figure revered for all time. No one will care about the destruction of the mere Darkspear Horde."
Rokhan understood Vol'jin's intention. Among the Trolls, there were many wandering Trolls, like Vol'jin, who were descendants of different Troll races, driven out by their own people and left homeless.
If the Darkspear Tribe is destroyed, Vol'jin only needs to raise his arm and call for help, and a large number of wandering Trolls will surely come to join him. It may not be possible to reach a scale of 300,000 Trolls, but tens of thousands can be easily achieved.
Rokhan closed his eyes, his moral Scales beginning to crumble. Thrall's cruelty and Vol'jin's utter lack of principles made him realize how naive and ridiculous he had been. How could a Troll be so out of touch with reality?
Vol'jin offered a malicious reminder: "Rokhan, hurry up and make up your mind. A huge pot of oil is already burning outside. I don't want you to become Thrall's breakfast. Besides, you had a tough childhood; your flesh isn't exactly delicious."
The hardships of his past life flooded Rokhan's mind. His childhood and adolescence had been filled with suffering and torment, enduring countless scornful looks and humiliations. He felt he should not harbor any kindness towards the Darkspear Tribe and immediately made up his mind:
"Okay, I agree, Thrall."
"That's right." Vol'jin patted Rokhan on the shoulder. "When you learn to betray your people, you get closer and closer to heroism and greatness. I have high hopes for you, Rokhan. Let's fight for Azeroth."
"For Azeroth," Rokhan replied coldly.