Durotan finally set foot on the unfamiliar land of Kalimdor. Gazing at the boundless expanse of yellow-brown earth, he took a deep breath.
"This... is our new home."
He looked behind him at batches of equally bewildered Frostwolf Orcs disembarking from the ships. They too were surveying this brand-new land.
A sharp-featured middle-aged Night Elf walked toward Durotan and bowed.
"Greetings, Durotan, Great Chief of the Frostwolf Clan. The Divine Venerable has informed us of your arrival with your people. I am responsible for familiarizing you with this land. You may call me Anka—Anka Heartclaw."
Durotan nodded. "You are a druid, aren't you? I've heard of druids. You can take the forms of many animals. That is somewhat similar to our shamans."
Anka smiled in agreement, then took out a map and began pointing things out to Durotan.
"Our current location is a place called the Little Barrens. To the east, across a river, lies the Great Barrens. This entire region belongs to you." Anka drew a circle on the map with his hand.
Durotan felt a surge of excitement. It seemed the Night Elves had kept their promise; this land was as vast as they had promised. Though it was quite barren, hardworking Orcs would always find a way to improve things.
"Of course, there is something else. Further east lie the Mulgore plains, where the Tauren live. They are a noble, rational, peaceful race. I believe you will have much in common. Some of their people are currently in the Great Barrens, fighting the Centaurs there."
Seeing Durotan's puzzled expression, Anka continued explaining. "The Centaurs are an extremely aggressive race. No offense, but they are as detestable as the other Orc clans. They are bloodthirsty and savage, and they love slaughter. The Frostwolf Clan can join our front