Outland, New Nagrand, Regar Territory.
"Dranosh, the High Warlord wants to see you in his office." A Goblin's shrill voice drifted over the wheat fields and reached the ears of a young Orc.
Young Saurfang was working in the fields, his bare upper body displaying sturdy muscles. Sweat soaked his reddish-brown skin, making it gleam in the sunlight.
He straightened up and saw a small figure racing toward him. It was the Goblin Goldmanpu Goldensong.
He could run like the wind and had a booming voice, so he had become the messenger at High Warlord Regar's side.
"Quick, quick!" The Goblin ran up to Dranosh Saurfang and urged him on while hopping in place. "The High Warlord wants you. Hurry over."
"Got it!" Young Saurfang gave a few instructions to the Orcs working nearby, then followed the Goblin as they raced along the edge of the wheat fields. The wind swept through his hair, and sweat dripped onto the land that was nearly ready for harvest.
The Great Chieftain had assigned him to Outland as Regar Earthfury's deputy. He recruited men, organized cultivation, trained militia, scouted enemy movements—aside from having children, he had done just about everything. It had also allowed him to regain a sense of peace in Outland, unlike the Ashenvale front, where life and death were locked in endless slaughter.
Yet he still felt a faint sense of guilt. He felt like a deserter, as though he had let down the comrades still fighting in Ashenvale.
But the Great Chieftain's orders had to be carried out without hesitation. He had left in such a rush that he had not even met Old Saurfang before departing.
One Orc and one Goblin, both familiar with the route, raced all the way back to Regar's Keep.
It was a stone