Orgrimmar, the largest city in the Orc Autonomous Region, was now the political and cultural center of the Orcs and the transportation hub linking their various tribes. At its heart stood the administrative building, an imposing structure built to accommodate the Orcs' physiques. Their size meant that it had only eighteen stories in total. Compared with the elegant buildings of humans, Orc architecture was taller and rougher, yet taken as a whole, it conveyed a weighty sense of history.
Durotan sat in his office on the top floor, busier than ever. The sweeping changes since the Holy Church took charge of the Orcs had been difficult for him to get used to at first. When had an Orc great chieftain ever needed to do so much work? In the past, all he had to do each day was lead his powerful guards around the tribes and demonstrate his strength. Now, staring at the endless paperwork, Durotan felt his temper flare.
"How many documents are still left?" Dressed in a suit and polished shoes, Durotan picked up a document, skimmed through it, then quickly signed his name and slapped it down to one side. He turned toward the clerk the Holy Church had assigned to him and asked through gritted teeth.
The bespectacled clerk glanced at the schedule beside him. "Chieftain Durotan, there are roughly three hundred documents still awaiting your signature! After that, we need to inspect the large livestock farm the Warsong clan recently established. The Bleeding Hollow clan has also been clashing with other clans lately. The Shattered Hand clan has repeatedly reported to the autonomous federal government that the Bleeding Hollow clan refuses to work and steals the fruits of other clan members' labor. The Judgment Hall has already intervened, but the administrative side still requires you