Theramore Harbor

Theramore Harbor.

After a Goblin Transport Ship docked, Orc Peons working on the pier boarded it and began moving various goods. When they saw the figure emerging from the cabin, they immediately bowed and greeted him respectfully. "Greetings, lord Saurfang! Is there anything we can do for you?"

The Old Orc, his beard and hair already gray, waved for the Orc laborers to get back to work. He took two Orc warriors with him and set foot on Theramore soil alone.

As he watched the Horde members bustling about on the docks, he suddenly felt somewhat fortunate. These people did not need to worry about the war raging in Ashenvale. They toiled every day for a few wages, living simple yet happy lives.

Having learned from Garrosh's previous mistake of forcing Horde members in Theramore to return, which had strained relations between both sides, Thrall had not ordered the Orcs in Theramore to return and fight this time. Thus, they had no idea that faraway Ashenvale had seen heavy Horde casualties.

"Let's go." Seeing that the Horde members were living well here, Saurfang truly did not know how to judge it. If the Orcs' future was working in Theramore, he certainly would not approve. But neither did he want a future of piling up mountains of corpses while fighting the Night Elves in Ashenvale. He did not know where the Orcs should go.

They soon met up with the Elf Ranger at the docks and requested an audience with Jaina.

Upon receiving the news, Jaina instinctively teleported to Deren's home.

Meanwhile, the king of cowards in Azeroth sat drinking tea as Jaina attended to him. The former Princess of Lordaeron lightly brushed his small hand. Their gazes met, then immediately shifted away.

"Ahem!" That little atmosphere could not possibly escape