Trolls

When he heard the Blackrock Orc speak, Orgrim fixed his gaze on Kaldara.

"You're lying to me?"

The Orc Warchief demanded sharply.

"I figured I couldn't beat this guy, so I surrendered. That means he defeated me, and I'm the strongest one in our squad, so the human woman belongs to him. Any objections?"

Kaldara seemed to be casually making up a story so outrageous that even Malone, who had witnessed everything that had just happened, was dumbfounded.

What was this guy thinking? Malone studied Kaldara's face, but that green skin seemed to conceal everything.

Malone didn't think Kaldara had any goodwill toward him, but he didn't seem to be trying to frame him and Teron Gorefiend in front of Orgrim, either.

"So you're saying this was just a simple brawl?"

Orgrim sat back down in his seat.

"That's right. We're Orcs. Fighting is in our nature, not a crime, is it?"

Kaldara seemed to be saying this for the benefit of the other Orcs, and quite a few of them agreed. Malone saw many nodding.

"We gathered here for a reason, not to fight among ourselves. If you just want to brawl with your companions, you can go back to Draenor."

Orgrim said to Kaldara.

"Fine. I promise nothing like this will happen again."

Kaldara replied as if nothing had happened, though his tone made it hard for anyone to believe he meant it as a promise.

"Then we'll consider the matter settled."

Orgrim said nothing more.

"We can consider that matter settled, but I have something else to discuss."

Kaldara seemed to think he hadn't annoyed Orgrim enough yet, and spoke up again.

"What now?"

Orgrim asked helplessly.

Malone suddenly felt like laughing. Orgrim seemed like a parent, while Kaldara was like a mischievous child—one you couldn't hit or scold.

"Talrama, I remember telling you we'd let this matter go. But who gave you the nerve to tell Orgrim about it?"

Kaldara turned to the Blackrock Orc named Talrama and asked in an unfriendly tone.

"Enough, Kaldara. I'm his Warchief. What's wrong with him telling me?"

Orgrim frowned, stopping Kaldara from carrying on.

"Then, Warchief, please transfer Talrama out of my squad. I don't want to take such a disobedient subordinate on patrol."

Kaldara narrowed his eyes. Though he was speaking to Orgrim, his gaze remained fixed on Talrama.

The Orc who hadn't been able to withstand a single blow from Malone was even more helpless before Kaldara.

Though Kaldara had done no more than glare at him, Talrama had already begun edging backward.

"Of course, you don't have to do that, Orgrim. But I can't promise that a disobedient subordinate will survive long in a place this dangerous. After all, you're his Warchief, aren't you?"

Before Orgrim could respond, Kaldara said this mockingly, then turned, nodded to Teron Gorefiend, and went back to his people.

This was a complete farce. Malone looked at Orgrim.

The Orc Warchief seemed to have been angered by Kaldara's words, but perhaps because of his position—Orc Warchief and chieftain of the Blackrock Clan—Orgrim couldn't go around drawing his sword against any Orc who slighted him, as he might have before.

If Orgrim didn't want the Horde, brought together through the efforts of The Destroyer, Blackhand, and Gul'dan, to fall apart under his watch, he would have to learn to show restraint.

"This matter is over. Teron Gorefiend, keep your subordinates in line from now on."

Orgrim announced his final ruling.

Teron Gorefiend seemed to still be considering what had prompted Kaldara to say those things. After a long moment, he nodded in acknowledgment of Orgrim's words.

That's it? Malone was surprised. If he'd known it would end this quickly, he wouldn't have left Tiffany and come here!

Thinking of Tiffany, Malone felt worried again. Could those Death Knights keep her safe?

No... Those guys were among the threats to Tiffany themselves. Malone hoped the matter here would be over soon so he could go back and look after her.

"Now that this matter is settled, can we talk about what happened last night?"

A cold, aged voice reached Malone's ears.

An old Orc stood there, his back slightly bent—or perhaps that was just Malone's imagination, since most Orcs seemed a little hunched.

The Orc stood at the very front of the crowd. A black eyepatch covered his left eye, and he carried no weapon, but Malone could tell he was a dangerous one.

Kilrogg Deadeye. Malone could more or less guess who the old Orc was: the leader of the Bloodfang Clan.

Malone also knew what Kilrogg meant by what had happened last night.

Before they arrived, Orgrim's adjutant, Tabek, had told Malone and Teron Gorefiend that a Troll had killed one of Kilrogg's clan members and cut a patch of skin from the top of the Orc's head.

Kilrogg was clearly putting pressure on Orgrim, hoping he would punish the Troll. And the Troll...

Malone looked beside Orgrim's throne.

There, on Orgrim's right, stood a Troll—the only one in the tent.

He wore an open leather vest and baggy trousers. A thick scarf was wrapped around his neck, covering the lower part of his face and giving him a menacing look.

With his sharp eyesight, Malone also noticed green fuzz growing on the Troll's skin.

But he soon realized it must be moss. The Trolls were green because their bodies were covered in moss. Malone knew this about them.

This guy must be Zul'jin. The Zul'jin Malone had seen in the game was maimed, missing an arm and an eye. This Zul'jin was whole, so naturally he would be even more terrifying.

Malone knew just how terrifying these Trolls were—perhaps even better than the Trolls knew themselves.

Trolls were among the few beings in this world who were not Titan-forged. They were the true natives of this land.

The Trolls had once ruled this world. Whether Forest Trolls, Desert Trolls, or the wise Zandalari Trolls, they all dreamed of restoring their ancestors' glory.

That had nearly made them enemies of every other race. Players used to joke that World of Warcraft was all about "eat, sleep, and kill Trolls."