A Visit to Durnholde

"Tyrel, want to come with me to Durnholde? That castle holds hundreds of thousands of Orcs. I heard an Arena Champion has emerged among those Orc slave." Prince Arthas Menethil of the Kingdom of Lordaeron extended an invitation to Tyrel Sunstrider.

After the Alliance's victory in the Orc Wars, King Terenas Menethil II of Lordaeron, the Alliance's leader, had all the weakened Orcs locked away in heavily walled internment camps.

The Orcs had now been confined in the various camps for over a decade. Nearly every human believed that these utterly weakened Orcs, who had lost all will to resist, were no longer a threat to the Alliance.

Durnholde Castle was the Alliance's largest Orc internment camp. Located in the southeastern Hillsbrad Foothills, it was a massive fortress ruled by Lieutenant Edras Blackmoore of the Kingdom of Lordaeron.

Edras Blackmoore had turned Durnholde Castle into the Alliance's largest arena. Orc slaves often fought creatures of other races here, making it a favorite destination for Alliance nobles.

Tyrel Sunstrider had no desire to watch people fight to the death in an arena. Still, he was deeply curious about Orcs. He knew they came from another world, and driven by that curiosity, Tyrel Sunstrider agreed.

Durnholde Castle and Dalaran were located in the northwest and east of the Hillsbrad Foothills respectively.

The arrival of the two princes of the Kingdom of Lordaeron and the Kingdom of Quel'Thalas at Durnholde Castle was no small matter. As soon as they neared the castle, Edras Blackmoore personally came to receive them.

"Welcome to Durnholde Castle, Prince Arthas and Prince Tyrel." Lieutenant Edras Blackmoore was a middle-aged man, and before the two princes, he was exceedingly obsequious.

After the Kingdom of Alterac fell, the Hillsbrad Foothills had come under the jurisdiction of the Kingdom of Lordaeron. Durnholde Castle was naturally Lordaeron territory as well. Arthas Menethil said to Lieutenant Edras Blackmoore, "Lieutenant Edras Blackmoore, there's no need to be nervous. Tyrel and I have merely come to see the internment camp's arena."

"I'll make the arrangements immediately, Prince Arthas. Today happens to be the grand match between our arena's new Orc champion and an Ogre." Edras Blackmoore nodded and bowed, bending at the waist as he welcomed Arthas Menethil.

Only after Arthas and Tyrel had passed Lieutenant Edras Blackmoore did he raise his head. All obsequiousness vanished from his face, leaving only anger and mockery.

Durnholde Castle covered an enormous area, comparable to a large city. Besides the central fortress, it also had outer walls.

Major General Edras Blackmoore lived in the central castle. Outside it were the quarters of Durnholde Castle's soldiers and servants, while farther out lay the dwellings of the Orc slaves.

The Orcs lived in the worst conditions. They were crammed into the most rundown part of Durnholde Castle, with only crude shelters to shield them from the elements.

Tyrel Sunstrider observed the Orcs on Durnholde Castle's outskirts. Most performed hard labor. Though powerfully built, their eyes were vacant. More than a decade had made them accustomed to being oppressed and cursed at by Durnholde Castle's human soldiers.

Looking at these feeble Orcs, Tyrel Sunstrider could not possibly compare them to the Orcs of the Old Horde that had breached Stormwind City of the Kingdom of Stormwind and marched north all the way to the border of the Kingdom of Quel'Thalas.

When the arena match began, Major General Edras Blackmoore specially arranged the best seats for Arthas and Tyrel, sitting beside them himself.

"Prince Arthas, Prince Tyrel, Durnholde Castle's Arena Champion is about to appear. He is my trump card." Major General Edras Blackmoore introduced him.

At the same time, every spectator in the arena stands shouted a single name together. "Thrall! Thrall!"

"Thrall?" Tyrel Sunstrider was fluent in the languages of Azeroth's various races. In the human tongue, thrall meant slave.

A brawny, green-skinned Orc emerged from one end of the arena. His muscles bulged with immense strength, and his body was covered in wounds clearly left by arena battles.

What drew Tyrel Sunstrider's attention most, however, were the blue eyes of this Orc Arena Champion called Thrall. They were filled with intelligence rather than madness and slaughter.

Thrall stood in the arena, surveying the spectators. Soon, his gaze shifted toward Tyrel's side. When he saw Tyrel Sunstrider's golden eyes, their gazes met.

With that single exchange of looks, Tyrel Sunstrider sensed many emotions within Thrall.

This Orc named Thrall was different from every other Orc in Durnholde Castle. His eyes shone with life. He was not a walking corpse.

Just as Tyrel Sunstrider wanted to keep observing Thrall, the arena gave him no more time. Thrall's opponent this time was an Ogre more than three meters tall.

Orcs were already extremely powerfully built, far taller and stronger than humans and High Elves. Their strength even surpassed that of sturdy Dwarves.

Ogres, however, were even larger. Even Orcs appeared small before them.

The Ogre had clearly been starved for some time. The moment he saw Thrall, his eyes turned bloodshot, and drool began to spill unconsciously from the corner of his mouth.

At the same time, the arena host tossed the Ogre a massive spiked mace as a weapon. As for Thrall, he was given nothing.

The Ogre was already larger and stronger than the Orc, and now that he had been given a weapon, the disparity grew even wider.

Ogres were not native to Azeroth either. They had come to Azeroth alongside the Orcs of the Old Horde. Even fully armed veterans had almost no chance of victory against an Ogre in a one-on-one fight.

"Major General Edras Blackmoore, you should give Thrall a weapon. That would be fairer." Seeing the unarmed Thrall, Arthas Menethil spoke to Edras Blackmoore beside him.

Major General Edras Blackmoore smiled. "My prince, Thrall does not need a weapon. He is my finest gladiator."

When Major General Edras Blackmoore spoke of Thrall, a trace of genuine pride could clearly be seen, yet there was also disgust in his eyes.

"Perhaps the two princes would like to place bets and guess whether Thrall or the Ogre will win?" Major General Edras Blackmoore suggested.

Prince Arthas Menethil of Lordaeron was betting on an arena match for the first time as well. After assessing both sides' strength, he decisively placed his bet. "Not a bad idea. I'm betting on the Ogre. One thousand gold. What about you, Tyrel?"

"Then I'll bet on Thrall. The same stake as you, Arthas." Rather than choosing the Ogre, who appeared to hold the greater advantage, Tyrel Sunstrider placed his wager on Thrall.