"Impossible! You're deceiving me!" the monster roared. "The Old Gods of Azeroth won't concern themselves with Outland, nor will the Titan Keepers cross the Dark Portal. You think a bunch of mortals can defeat me? Unless the Scourge joins the battle?"
Robbie shook his head. "The Scourge has absolutely no interest in Outland. Have you forgotten? Thrall is a minion of the Burning Legion. In the near future, Thrall will plan the Burning Crusade to storm the Black Temple."
The monster was startled upon hearing this and muttered, "The Burning Legion?"
The Burning Legion has never valued integrity and is accustomed to both winning over and betraying. Compared to the uncontrollable and unremarkable Illidan, the Legion clearly trusts Thrall more.
The monsters left the Frozen Throne, the howling winds of Icecrown Glacier ceased, and the battle against the Lich King ended just like that, far from being exciting.
The Big Candle Gagg was not satisfied with this, even though he hadn't ventured deep into Icecrown Glacier; the Kobolds couldn't withstand the biting winds.
Helpless, the Big Candle Gagg could only rely on rumors and gossip to fabricate a captivating story of Illidan's attack on the Frozen Throne.
The text vividly describes how Illidan destroyed the ice coffin, leaving Arthas weakened and forced to enter Northrend to try and merge with Ner'zhul, while Sylvanas seized the opportunity to escape the Scourge.
In particular, the duel between Illidan and Arthas under the Frozen Throne provided a livelihood for countless Bards.
Durotar, an Orcs village.
A disheveled Orcs plunged headfirst into the latrine at the village entrance, not forgetting to use Underwater Breathing. He had barely sunk in when a group of pursuers stormed into the village, searching house to house, but found nothing and left cursing.
The Orcs cautiously poked his head out of the latrine, his eyes gleaming with a shrewd light.
"Damn Saurfang, I will never forget the humiliation you inflicted upon me."
This Orcs was Thrall. After the Burning Legion repaired his body, he should have returned to Orgrimmar smoothly. However, the teleportation malfunctioned, and he was separated from his Personal Guard, landing on the beach of Durotar. Thrall was certain that this was a conspiracy.
Thrall was cautious enough not to rush back to Orgrimmar, but instead ventured into nearby villages as an adventurer to gather information.
Saurfang concealed the news of Thrall's disappearance and instead issued a warrant for his arrest, stating that a treacherous and vicious Orcs had dared to impersonate the great Savior Thrall and had almost deceived Agna, the most beautiful woman among the Orcs, thus incurring the Savior's wrath.
This Orcs's crime is unforgivable. Once captured, he shall be executed immediately without any approval. The one who performs meritorious service shall be promoted to general and rewarded with ten Orcs beauties.
The Orcs of Durotar were going crazy, searching everywhere for this treacherous liar who looked just like Thrall.
In the village just ahead, Thrall was recognized in the tavern and fled in panic. If it weren't for this cesspool, he would probably have been torn to pieces by the Orcs.
The situation was precarious. Thrall knew that if he wanted to turn things around and regain his title Warchief, he had to return to Orgrimmar and his Personal Guard. Eitrigg still someone he could trust.
But between Durotar and Orgrimmar, countless Orcs soldiers, dreaming of promotion and marrying beautiful women, searched for their own tracks with bloodshot eyes.
What should I do?
Aside from his Personal Guard, Thrall had no one he could trust. Thrall was always wary of Vol'jin of the Darkspear Tribe, and Thrall trusted Jaina of Theramore even less. He hadn't forgotten biting off Jaina's hand; women are usually very vengeful.
Thunder Bluff? Tauren Chieftain Cairne Bloodhoof would love to Thrall alive.
Thrall knew perfectly well that the Burning Legion, for the purpose of controlling the Orcs, would never do anything to Saurfang; on the contrary, they would secretly support him.
Seeking help from the Burning Legion is unreliable; who knows what those Demons are thinking, or if they've already planned to replace the Orcs chieftain?
There is only one way out now: to seek help from the Guardian Medivh. After all, Thrall grew up in Karazhan and was raised by Medivh, while Saurfang is a failed creation of the Burning Legion.
Thrall did not know Arcane Magic and could not open Portal to directly enter Karazhan.
Fortunately, Medivh's mother, Aegwynn, was visiting Theramore, and he had to find a way to avoid Jaina and meet with Aegwynn.
Having made up his mind, Thrall found a pond, washed away the filth, and headed towards Theramore along the coastline. He proceeded cautiously, and thanks to his decent Shaman magic, he successfully evaded several waves of searchers.
The Northwatch Hold is the gateway to Theramore. This Castle, which has never been repaired, has been dilapidated from the beginning, with low walls and holes everywhere.
Jaina sent soldiers who refused to obey her orders to this place. The Orcs would attack regularly, killing the Guards and turning Tough Jerky, so it was jokingly called the meat storehouse of Orgrimmar.
Inside the Northwatch Hold, Orcs never held back. The tavern was specifically for Orcs, and if they got into a good mood, they would grab a Guards at will to serve as a snack with their drinks.
Thrall covered his face with clothes he had stolen along the way, disguising himself as a wandering adventurer. The human guards in the city, seeing that he was a noble Orcs, let him pass without saying a word.
Approaching the tavern in the Northwatch Hold, Thrall nearly fainted from anger. He hadn't expected the wanted posters to be plastered here; the wall at the tavern entrance was covered with Thrall's portrait.
Thrall was exhausted and hungry. He thought to himself that this was human territory after all, Orcs should be more than just so unruly. So he risked entering the tavern to fill his stomach first.
The bartender served Tough Jerky and absinthe, the Orcs soldiers' favorite drink. Thrall ate and drank heartily, while keeping an eye on his surroundings. Not far from Thrall, several Orcs soldiers were dismembering a Dwarf and eating the meat.
A Dwarf stood by, waiting to collect the body, while an Orcs raised his goblet and shouted, "For Azeroth!"
"For Azeroth," the Dwarf musketeer reluctantly agreed.
"Haha, you Dwarves have made a contribution to Azeroth," the Orcs said, patting the Dwarf musketeer on the shoulder. "It's just that the taste of the meat is really not something to brag about."
"If I hadn't believed the Dove of Peace Dove's lies, I wouldn't have come to a place like this," the Dwarf musketeer muttered irritably. "May Jaina's soul never find peace."
"May the souls of Jaina and King Terenas never find peace," the Alliance soldiers whispered in unison in the tavern.
Just then, the Orcs soldiers spotted Thrall, who seemed suspicious. Several strong soldiers exchanged glances and quietly moved closer to Thrall, while two others blocked the exit.
It seemed a fierce battle was inevitable, Thrall thought to himself. At least he had managed to fill his stomach. He carefully observed his surroundings, searching for a way to break through.
The tavern door was pushed open with tremendous force, causing the entire tavern to shake. The Orcs soldiers glared angrily at the entrance, then immediately looked away, as if nothing had happened, and continued to stare at Thrall.
Two tall figures appeared at the entrance. Although they had Orcs features, they were half a head taller than ordinary Orcs, with more ferocious faces and stronger bodies.
Thrall, with his extensive knowledge, recognized them as a pair of Half-breed individuals, Ogre and an Orcs.