Fusion

Sarufal turned to leave, but Warchief called after him.

"King Sarufal, I wonder if we Darkspear Trolls might join your Horde?"

Warchief had no idea what sort of thing the Horde was. He had escaped from the island, and yet when he saw the fine armor worn by Sarufal and the other Wolf Riders, along with their weapons gleaming with cold light, he knew that this organization called the Horde must be powerful. The Darkspear Trolls were now desperate for shelter beneath someone's wing, and the mighty Horde could offer them just that.

"My Horde? Warchief, I'm no king. I'm just a patrolman. If you want to join the Horde, I can take you to Orgrimmar. But we'll have to wait until our shift changes. We've been on duty for a month, and our assignment ends this month. Then I can take you to Orgrimmar and show you the world's greatest city!"

Although Warchief's Darkspear Clan had fled after being betrayed, quite a few Darkspear Trolls had chosen to follow him. Men and women, young and old, they numbered thirty thousand in all. Feeding such a large group was a problem. So even though King Sarufal sent word to Orgrimmar the very day he met Warchief, and Cain in Orgrimmar quickly arranged for a shipment of food, there still wasn't enough to go around. The Trolls wouldn't starve, but they wouldn't eat their fill either. After all, the Darkspear Trolls hadn't officially joined the Horde yet, and some caution was necessary.

Once another group of Wolf Riders took over Sarufal's patrol, King Sarufal brought Warchief and his companions back to Orgrimmar ahead of the rest.

When he saw Orgrimmar, Warchief gaped like a country bumpkin, doing nothing but praising and marveling at the city. After all, even Kael'thas had