Zuluhed spent a peaceful week at an inn near the port of Zandalar.
During that time, no Troll came to bother him.
Accustomed to life in exile, Zuluhed found the sudden peace a little difficult to adjust to.
The prophet Yazir had spoken of treated Zuluhed as an honored guest. He was thoroughly satisfied with the food, lodging, and transportation. Each night, Zuluhed could even enjoy services of a different kind.
In his spare time, Zuluhed often took a stroll around the harbor.
Zandalari Troll society was relatively insular, and its commoners regarded outsiders of other races with curiosity and indifference. Zuluhed drew plenty of looks, but the Trolls felt nothing toward him beyond curiosity.
During the Second Orc War, Zuluhed had learned the language of the Forest Trolls.
At the harbor, he could understand the Trolls' conversations. The Zandalari Troll accent was rather strange, however, and sounded terribly awkward.
It was as though their tongues were tied in knots they could not undo.
Zuluhed gathered a great deal of information about Zandalari Troll history at the harbor. This ancient Troll tribe could trace its history back tens of thousands of years.
The glory of the past had given rise to Zandalar's splendid Troll civilization. Whenever the commoners spoke of Zuldazar, they proudly called it the oldest city of gold.
Zuluhed scoffed at that.
The masses always loved such empty boasts. Orcs were no different.
Even the four enormous, crumbling stone pillars in Nagrand were reverently called the Throne of the Elements.
Little did the commoners realize that the city of gold they took such pride in would never be their home. Nor would Draenor's four great manifestations of elemental fury at the Orcs' revered Throne of the Elements grant elemental power to every Orc.
The Second War had failed