The Barrens

The green stone giants rampaged through the entire elven camp. No matter how brave or skilled a warrior was, facing them meant broken bones and severed tendons.

The Horde warriors roared and charged into the camp. They tore through the defenders like a knife through butter, rampaging unchecked.

Andrebos watched the chaotic camp tremble, his eyes fixed on the two stone giants wreaking havoc inside. Then he looked at the charging orc warriors, and two lines of tears ran down his face.

It wasn't that he lacked courage, nor was there anything wrong with his command. There was simply nothing he could do. The stone giants had fallen from the sky without warning, completely disrupting his defensive plans.

Andrebos broke free of the guards supporting him and brandished his curved sword. He fought off the orcs as he rallied the scattered elven warriors.

Gradually, more elven warriors gathered around him, fighting as they fell back. Andrebos glanced behind him at the camp he had worked so hard to build. It was already in ruins. The two stone giants and the orc warriors who had stormed in were wrecking everything in sight.

"We're retreating!" Andrebos struggled to issue the order.

The surviving elven archers held off the pursuing orcs from both sides of the group, protecting their comrades as they withdrew. Andrebos placed his guards at the rear to fend off the attacking orcs.

Bound by magic, Orgrim sat alone on the floor of the black cell, leaning against the wall. As he listened to the orc warriors' cries, his heart twisted with pain.

These were the soldiers he had led through countless hardships. They were the only force untouched by Gul'dan's Fel magic, yet now they were bleeding and risking their lives for that bastard.

A sudden sting jolted Andy awake. The harsh sunlight nearly blinded him. He squinted until his eyes adjusted to the light, then opened them.

His whole body ached. He had fallen from a great height. Though he had landed in the sea, the tremendous impact had made him spew blood from his mouth and nose before he passed out.

"Damn, it still hurts. At least I'm not dead!" Andy muttered. He tried to sit up, but only triggered even worse pain.

"Ugh!" Andy gritted his teeth and sucked in a sharp breath. "Which damn bone did I break?"

Andy lay still for over an hour before enduring the pain and sitting up to look around.

He was on a beach. Golden sand glittered in the sunlight. A few seabirds wheeled above the water, diving into the sea and emerging with fish in their beaks.

Andy forced himself to his feet. The cliff he had fallen from was nowhere in sight, and he had no idea where the sea had carried him. Behind him was a small sand dune that blocked his view.

Andy climbed the dune and stared blankly ahead. At the far end of the beach stood a dense forest. He hurriedly looked around. Was he still in Ashenvale?

Andy felt behind his back. His bow was still there, but many arrows were missing from his quiver. They must have washed away when he fell into the sea.

Andy slowly entered the forest. Looking at the enormous trees, each wide enough for several people to wrap their arms around, he felt a strange sense of disorientation. They looked exactly like the woods he had fled through.

After walking for two days, Andy came upon a ruined watchpost. It looked elven, and the smoking rubble showed that it had been destroyed only recently. His heart leaped into his throat. Could he really still be in Ashenvale?

Andy quickened his pace, but suddenly stopped as he passed a patch of grass. A large amount of blood had been splattered across it, and bits of flesh clung to the weeds.

"Andy, watch out! There's danger behind you!" the Monster Spirit's warning rang in his mind.

Andy's heart tightened. He crouched without daring to move. Suddenly, he felt the wind behind his head. He rolled forward, and heard a loud thud as something heavy hit the ground.

Andy sprang up. A towering orc stood before him, glaring fiercely and gripping a massive axe. Without hesitation, Andy darted backward and drew an arrow from his back, nocking it to his bow.

The arrow shot forth in a flash of cold light. The orc instinctively raised its axe, but at such close range, the movement was all it could manage. The arrow pierced its body and sank deep into its heart.

The orc crumpled to the ground, its eyes filled with resentment. Andy walked over, pulled out his arrow, and returned it to his quiver. Then he crouched and examined the corpse.

The blood flowing from the body was dark red, and not a trace of Fel energy escaped it. Andy frowned. This seemed to be one of Orgrim's men. Had they finally started their attack?

Andy ignored the notification that he had gained attributes and continued onward. In the end, he confirmed his location when he saw the ruined Maestra Post.

Maestra was now occupied by several dozen orcs. Andy took one furtive glance, then quickly hid far away. He wasn't strong enough to take on dozens of orcs alone. If they spotted him, they'd tear him apart in an instant.

Andy got his bearings and followed Ashenvale's southern edge, keeping out of sight as he crept toward the elven camp.

Along the way, Andy shot down the orcs he found alone. But eventually, the entire area ahead was covered in orc camps, and he could no longer find a way around them.

He had seen only elven corpses along the way. It seemed the elves had retreated toward Darnassus.

Andy didn't dare go any farther. He tucked the curved sword he had picked up along the way into his belt, turned, and hurried south.

South of Ashenvale, beyond the forest, lay a sweltering region of yellow-brown soil.

Only a few drought-resistant plants grew there; in most places, not a blade of grass could be found. According to elven records, no race lived there, and the land was unsuitable for growing any kind of plant.

Only after Andy crossed the forest and reached this legendary wasteland did he realize that the truth was even worse than the records suggested.

Andy walked across the increasingly sandy ground as dry heat filled the air. Every breath felt like fire burning in his lungs.

A gust of wind swept across the land, whipping up sand and pelting Andy's face until it stung.

Andy grimaced and cursed the place as he walked. He had no destination, and everything around him was completely unfamiliar.

All he could do was keep heading south, far away from the orc warriors roaming everywhere.