Promise

The crimson sun sank diagonally into the mountains west of Stratholme, its twilight glow spilling across the land and rendering the entire world in shades of gold and red. The white tower atop the hill stood tall in this fiery world, its pristine surface also reflected in the red hue. The tower's shadow was stretched long by the setting sun, covering a vast expanse of land at the foot of the hill.

To the east of the small hill where Northland Fortress stood, near the road between Darrowshire and Thalassian Pass, lay a simple camp entirely enclosed by log walls. Fresh logs as thick as a bowl were sharpened at both ends and driven deep into the ground to serve as the outermost defense. Along the double-layered wooden walls, arrow towers were distributed evenly every few hundred meters, with Blackpaw Gnoll warriors standing guard, monitoring every movement outside.

The style of the wooden structures was rugged and wild, clearly not the work of human hands. This was a camp built by the Blackpaw Gnolls using local materials and tools provided by the humans.

In the center of this somewhat crude, large-scale camp, in front of a crooked wooden shack, Tagg, the new leader of the Blackpaw clan, sat quietly before a small campfire, staring blankly as the bright flames licked the small iron pot hanging above.

Before long, the soup in the iron pot began to boil, bubbling as fresh cabbage leaves, shredded mushrooms, and meat slices swirled within, emitting an enticing aroma. The Gnoll Champion pulled a branch stuck in the ground, sniffed the roasted meat covered in golden grease, opened his mouth wide to take a savage bite, and nodded in satisfaction.

"Compared to this delicacy sprinkled with exquisite seasoning, the primitive spices we used to eat in the tribe were simply trash!"

Under the instigation of the Gnoll Shaman Logul, Tagg had spent several months using the prestige he had accumulated to rally a large number of warriors willing to follow him. Finally, with Logul's assistance, this Gnoll Champion and his subordinates overthrew the Great Shaman who had previously led the clan, leading more than half of the remaining clan members to submit to the humans.

Although he could clearly feel through these days of contact that those human soldiers did not think highly of his race, the food and tools promised by Logul and provided by the human kingdom had not been lacking during the construction of this camp, which completely put Tagg's lingering worries to rest.

Beyond the changes within the Gnolls, the upper echelons of the human kingdom were also altering their original attitude toward the Gnolls, which was good news for him. However, this was not enough. Only by demonstrating their value could the Gnolls truly gain the trust of the humans and integrate into their "civilized society."

Zul'Aman, the forest and valley occupied by the Mossflayer Trolls, would be the place where he led his people to prove their worth to the Kingdom of Lordaeron. For this goal, under Logul's suggestion, the new leader of the Blackpaw clan dispatched nearly half of his warriors into the forest to scout the Troll territory that no tribesman had ever dared to set foot in before.

Consequently, this brand-new camp now held fewer than 2,000 warriors, along with a large number of women and children. As for the elderly, under the survival rules of the Gnolls, those without combat capability simply could not survive. This was merely the count for the Blackpaw clan, as they lacked the capacity to gather the scattered settlements dispersed throughout the mountains and forests due to the time constraints.

However, although he had shown unprecedented obedience and cooperation to the Kingdom of Lordaeron, as a clan leader, he could not send all the strong warriors of his tribe to a battlefield that might become a meat grinder. The task he gave those Gnoll warriors was to scout and harass, not to engage in direct combat. For the Gnolls, who had wandered the forests and wilderness for years and were familiar with this land, this was not a difficult mission.

Although he had been forced to defect to the humans due to Logul's persuasion and the future of the clan, the seemingly savage and ignorant Gnoll Champion had his own calculations. Unlike the Gnoll Shaman who had completely turned to the Kingdom of Lordaeron, Tagg, who held the Blackpaw clan in his hands, understood that only this group of warriors was the capital he could rely on for his future survival.

Having already learned through Logul that the Kingdom of Lordaeron would conduct a sweep and military drill against the Gnolls within its borders in the autumn, Tagg understood that after that autumn drill, more qualified cannon fodder would be sent to the battlefield where he was stationed—those captives who could not withstand the military might of Lordaeron.

Everything he did now was merely to show his loyalty to the Kingdom of Lordaeron, so that he might receive preferential treatment compared to those potential captives in the future. Perhaps those captives could even become stepping stones for the Blackpaw clan?

Tagg gorged himself, beginning to indulge in visions of the future. After feeling the gap between the Gnolls and the humans, the newly promoted leader did not even notice that he had begun to lean toward Logul, the shaman who had become a "traitor."

"Tagg, my friend, are you getting used to this new dwelling?"

The Gnoll Shaman who had left Northland Fortress returned to the camp before the last ray of twilight left the ground. The old shaman walked slowly to the campfire, sat down of his own accord, pulled a branch with roasted meat from the ground, swallowed it in large bites, and looked sideways at the tall Gnoll leader.

The Gnoll leader did not express dissatisfaction with Logul's familiarity; he simply swallowed the greasy chunk of meat in his mouth and said, "Perhaps you are right. If we can cast off our original shackles and view humans with a more peaceful perspective, then everything will be different. They have already surpassed us by too much, not only in sophisticated combat equipment but also in the standard of daily life."

"I am very glad you can realize this. Peace is hard-won. We, who have always roamed the wilderness, simply cannot resist the steel torrent of the humans."

Logul swallowed the roasted meat in his mouth and used the remaining branch to gently stir the dimming campfire. With a crackling sound, red tongues of flame leaped up again, dispelling the chill that had arrived with the night.

Feeling the warm air, the shaman continued, "Just now, I met with the prince of Lordaeron at Northland Fortress. His Highness Alvin Menethil has made a promise to me—as long as we can swear an oath of loyalty in the name of our ancestors and the spirits of the elements, he will grant us a piece of land while bringing us peace."

"In Lordaeron?"

Tagg's tone was somewhat surprised. Based on Logul's previous descriptions, he knew that the prince would not be the heir to the Kingdom of Lordaeron in the future, so how could he possibly have the authority to grant land to the Gnoll race?

"No, on a new continent."

The Gnoll Shaman shook his head. "Although we will be far from this ancient land, we will have a brand-new life—a peaceful, prosperous life. And the only thing we must do is prove our loyalty and value to the Kingdom of Lordaeron in the time to come."

"Fine, you win, Shaman."

The Gnoll Champion shrugged, revealing a ferocious, smiling face.