Upon hearing this, Eitrigg was overjoyed, thinking to himself that he had finally succeeded.
According to Thrall's plan, once Garrosh "persuaded" Doras, he would be useless.
After all, Thrall Grom Hellscream like a dog; he could keep it a secret for a while, but not forever. Garrosh was always a huge hidden danger.
The elite assassins were already prepared, their blades coated with poison. They were just waiting for Garrosh to step off the airship in Doras, and for Eitrigg to give the order, so they could swarm him and tear him to pieces, eliminating any future threat.
"However!" Garrosh blushed and rubbed his hands together, saying, "Queen Doras is very satisfied with my performance. She has asked me to stay with her for a few days, so I cannot return to report to the Savior."
That's not surprising, Eitrigg couldn't refute. He thought to himself that, judging from his appearance, Garrosh would probably become Orcs wretch in a few days, so there would be no need for an assassin to do it.
Eitrigg said earnestly, "Personal interests are minor; everything must be for the greater good. You must serve Queen Doras well; the life and death of Azeroth rest on your shoulders."
Garrosh, with righteous indignation, like a warrior going to his execution, patted his chest and guaranteed:
"Rest assured, leave everything to me. For Azeroth, for the expectations of the Savior, I will risk my life to fulfill my mission."
"Good, good, the Savior was right about you." Eitrigg forced out a few tears, pretending to be excited and tearful. Garrosh walked towards Doras's bedroom without looking back, his tall and imposing figure standing tall and straight.
The three airships slowly rose, Eitrigg stood on the ground, waving goodbye.
Upon hearing Eitrigg's report, Thrall was overjoyed. Although he hadn't managed to eliminate Garrosh, making it somewhat imperfect, he had at least accomplished his mission. Thrall pondered for a while before sending Vol'jin to assist Doras in negotiating with the Kalimdor.
The Tauren are completely under the control of Doras, so there's no need to persuade Cairne Bloodhoof. The Centaurs are always in a state of division, without a unified leader, so persuading the fragmented Centaurs to attack the Troggs is an impossible task.
The humans of Theramore are Thrall's natural allies, and Jaina would be happy to send reinforcements if he sent an envoy.
Therefore, the main target is the Night Elf race, and the question is how to persuade Malfurion and Tyrande to join forces in the war against the Troggs.
Vol'jin had already come up with a plan, but he lacked an intermediary to introduce him.
He boarded the airship of Doras in the name of Thrall's envoy. He had long heard of the Queen of Doras's outrageous private life, but after seeing the queen with his own eyes, he immediately began to doubt his own judgment.
Queen Doras sat in the host's seat, while Garrosh sat beside her with neither servility nor arrogance. Vol'jin keenly sensed that something was amiss between the two; their relationship was one of equality, or rather, Garrosh was more like the master.
"This is bad. It seems I seriously underestimated Garrosh. What should I do?"
Vol'jin sensed the unusual wind direction and immediately became extremely uneasy. Unfortunately, the surrounding area was heavily guarded, and escape was impossible.
Garrosh, his face grim, looked at Vol'jin with distrust and asked, "A treacherous Troll, Thrall's strategist, can we trust him?"
Vol'jin was terrified upon hearing this, thinking that if he didn't come up with a plan, he probably wouldn't be able to leave this room.
Doras said calmly, "Trolls are not trustworthy; they are accustomed to betrayal. Eliminating Vol'jin is like cutting off Thrall's arm. Without this Troll's advice, Thrall will face a difficult future."
Vol'jin was terrified and broke out in a sweat. He quickly put on a fawning expression and pleaded, "Gentlemen, let's talk this over. We can actually talk. I'm Troll, not Orcs."
Garrosh ignored Vol'jin and said to Doras, "Unfortunately, we have no other choice. Only this Troll can help me through this crisis."
Doras smiled slightly, "That's right, Thrall must have been plotting to kill you. The only one who could save your life is this Troll, and luckily I have something on him."
Vol'jin was baffled. How could he have given Doras something to hold when it was their first meeting?
"Money can move the gods; even the Loa love shiny gold coins."
Doras, watching Vol'jin's increasingly grim expression, smiled slyly:
"You are the creation of the Troll Death God Bwonsamdi. I was the one who gave him that annoying Scales. Bwonsamdi owes me a lot of favors. After all, even gods need money in many places. I can have him take your life at any time. He'd be happy to turn your soul into a toy and then give it to me to pay off his debt."
Vol'jin's face turned pale. Having his life held in someone's hands was an unpleasant feeling. He quickly swore an oath:
"Great Queen Doras, I will protect Garrosh before Thrall and ensure he suffers no harm. I will fulfill any request you may make. If I break this oath, may Bwonsamdi take my soul."
"I enjoy dealing with intelligent people." Doras leaned back and shrugged. "Garrosh, you're safe now. Vol'jin will definitely be able to help you on your path to becoming the Orcs chieftain."
Garrosh nearly fainted when he was shocked to learn that Vol'jin harbored such ambitions. He cursed himself for coming up with such a dangerous idea, but then thought it might be a good idea. The Orcs were rife with internal strife, which presented an opportunity for him to rise to power.
Vol'jin immediately revealed a look of resentment, gritting his teeth as he said:
"Thrall was cruel and ruthless, slaughtering 300,000 Darkspear Trolls, all of whom were my people. I have long hated him to death, but I had no choice but to serve him for self-preservation. Garrosh, I support you as the Warchief of the Orcs."
Garrosh stood up, looked down at Vol'jin, and grinned:
"Excellent! Our cooperation will surely be very pleasant. Now let's solve the Night Elf's problem!"
Vol'jin breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that as long as he was still useful, he could survive.
"Pride is the Night Elf race' greatest weakness. As long as I can see Tyrande or Malfurion, I'm sure I can persuade them to send troops," Vol'jin said with absolute confidence. "After all, the Night Elf race and Trolls share the same origin; I can understand their thoughts."
Mentioning the proud Tyrande, Doras said with displeasure, "Although Tyrande and I are both known as the Queens of Kalimdor, she has always looked down on me. It's very difficult to get an audience with her, but money has endless power."
Vol'jin and Garrosh looked at Doras together, only to see the obese female Orcs shaking her flesh, exuding an air of superiority, and saying with immense pride:
"The Night Elf race poorly managed and don't have much money left. They've wanted to repair the Temple of the Moon for a long time, but they've always lacked funds. If I can provide some money, Tyrande will definitely want to see me."
Darnassus.
Doras, claiming to be a devout follower of the Moon Goddess, not only donated a large sum of gold coins to repair the Temple of the Moon, but also sent a large number of skilled craftsmen and countless precious building materials.
Although Tyrande was extremely unwilling, she had to meet the female Orcs out of politeness.