Theramore, in a warehouse rented by the Orcs.
Bang! Thrall slammed both fists onto the table, producing a tremendous crash.
"What happened, Great Chieftain?" Mogronar hurried over upon hearing the noise.
Before his subordinate, Thrall had to suppress the anger in his heart. He picked up a report in front of him. "Today, the Goblin airship Shining Fortune, bound for Ratchet, met with an accident and crashed into the sea off Ratchet. Seven Goblin technicians were rescued, but all sixty-odd Orc passengers aboard drowned."
Mogronar broke out in a cold sweat. He angrily denounced them, "Those harmful Goblins! This is already the second airship crash. So many people died last time too."
Suppressing his emotions, Thrall said sternly to Mogronar, "Do you think two consecutive airship crashes were accidents, or is someone deliberately sabotaging them?"
"I... I can't say for sure!" With a guilty conscience, Mogronar first professed his ignorance before offering his own guess. "Goblin airship crashes aren't exactly unheard of, but two crashes in a row means someone must be behind it. Great Chieftain, you know those Goblins—they'll do anything for money. If someone bribed them to tamper with something, it wouldn't be impossible."
"That makes sense." Thrall agreed with Mogronar's reasoning, but his expression remained grim. "But we can't find any evidence. There may be hundreds of people with access to Goblin airships, including technicians, mechanics, material suppliers, and even merchants who provide supplies for the airship kitchens. Any one of them could tamper with an airship. The scope is too broad, and we don't have the manpower to investigate. It seems we can't use airships anymore."
"Yes, yes! It's far too dangerous. Thankfully, the Great Chieftain wasn't aboard." Mogronar echoed him.
But Thrall's eyes suddenly lit up as he thought of something. "How about I ride