A World on the Brink of Death
Blasted Lands
"Hold on, warriors of the Horde! We're almost there!"
Amidst the clamor, Grom Grommash's voice stood out remarkably clear. Those who heard him were jolted awake. Rexxar turned, his left-hand axe slicing a gash across the neck of an Alliance Warrior, while his right-hand axe cleaved another enemy from shoulder to waist. Beside him, the HLS the Warg roared and charged forward, its massive jaws clamping down on another Warrior's arm. At the same moment, Rexxar heard teeth grinding, bones breaking, human screams, and the sound of a longsword falling to the ground. Hals released his severed arm and, with lightning speed, leaped forward, biting into his opponent's throat.
Rexxar glanced sideways and saw Grom Grommash, the Warsong Clan chieftain, wielding his incessantly shrill Gorehowl. The other Warsong Clan warriors followed closely beside their chieftain, their battle roars forming a Warsong Clan of destruction and death.
Rexxar was one of the few present who didn't belong to this clan, but that was perfectly normal for him. He didn't belong to any clan. At least, not to any Horde under a tribe. He belonged to the Mok'Nathal Ogre Tribe, known for their independence. Due to their small numbers, and the constant struggle among the Ogre for territory in the Blade's Edge Mountains, their lives had always been difficult. Rexxar had always wanted to tell his father— Leoroxx.
News of the Orcs establishing the Dark Portal suggested that the Mok'Nathal tribe, constantly threatened by Ogre, might be able to open up a new habitable world. However, Leoroxx believed Rexxar simply didn't want to stay in his birthplace, didn't want to fight bravely to protect his homeland. Both men shared the same goal: to help their people. But in the end, Rexxar chose to follow the Horde, severing ties with his father in the process. Now, HLS the Warg was his only remaining family.
But no matter what, he was still so unique.
Another human fell. Rexxar looked up; his height gave him a better view than the other Orcs Warrior. Grom was right—they weren't far from the Dark Portal. Between him and his homeland, only about a hundred human Warrior remained, putting up a desperate fight. Rexxar smiled and raised two short axes. Before him, these soldiers were nothing.
"Those Orcs have actually charged back!" Kurdran dodged a spear and ordered the other Gryphon Rider to maintain a safe distance!
The human soldiers underestimated the astonishing Will and bravery these Orcs displayed when they were cornered.
Grom had decided that they must return to their homeland. No clan would cross the Dark Portal to aid them. However, while they remained a formidable force, their numbers were dwindling, while the Alliance army seemed to be steadily increasing. Moreover, someone had decided to abandon them on Azeroth, and whoever it was, Grom Grommash would not relinquish the chance to return home because of betrayal. Rexxar had said he wanted to return with Grom to face together the one who had made that decision, the one who had betrayed them.
A human knight charged at him, longsword raised high, shield held tight in front of him. But the soldier hadn't taken Rexxar's height into account. Rexxar slammed one of his hand axes heavily into the soldier's shield, and with another, deflected the incoming sword. The immense force of his axe dented the shield, and the soldier was thrown from his horse. Rexxar raised his twin axes, piercing the soldier's neck with the blades. A savage grin spread across his face, and with a war cry, he pulled his twin axes from the human, straddling the dead soldier. The unridden warhorse turned, hastily fleeing Hals's deadly bite.
"Those Orcs are charging!" Khadgar shouted.
"I see it!" Turalyon's eyes darted back and forth between the Dark Portal and the Horde army, but he knew this was not the time to hesitate. "Someone needs to stay here and guard the area." He reined in his horse beside Alleria and Nathanos. "I will send some soldiers to guard this valley entrance, but someone needs to lead them. It's up to you, Nathanos, and... Alleria."
Both humans and Elf nodded at him, which reassured Turalyon. "The others..."
He fell silent, looking at the Alliance Expedition that was ready. A harsh reality confronted him: not a single one of them truly wanted to cross the Dark Portal. He had to admit it.
"Alright," Turalyon said. "We all know our duty. This is a voluntary expedition. If any soldier doesn't want to cross over to Draenor, they can leave now."
Danas nodded, stepping forward first to stand beside Turalyon, chanting a slogan. Khadgar gave Turalyon an approving smile, though the Paladin didn't return the smile. He whispered to Khadgar, "Thank you."
Khadgar replied in a similarly low voice, "A part of me, the part that led me to become a mage, is filled with curiosity about the unknown world beyond the Dark Portal."
Turalyon nodded with difficulty. He didn't know if Khadgar's curiosity would bring him death, but there was no going back now. "Alright, now we need to take the initiative and confront the Orcs. This is good for everyone."
"Sons of Lothar!" he cried. "We have fought side by side. We have shared wounds, defeats, and victories. Now we face the unknown." He saw Khadgar's gaze fixed upon him and smiled gently. "We will strike the Orcs and stop them, so that they will never again be a threat to us, ever again. For the Alliance!"
He raised his warhammer high, and it began to emit a dazzling white light. The crowd cheered. He would lead an army through the Dark Portal into a completely unknown new world.
Turalyon turned his horse around, spurred it on, and headed towards the Dark Portal. Reaching the Dark Portal, his horse hesitated, but Turalyon pulled on the reins, forcing it forward. The swirling light within the portal seemed to beckon him. He passed through the Dark Portal. In that instant, the green flash within the portal outshone the dazzling white light emanating from him. Then, he vanished completely.
Nathanos and Alleria watched as one soldier after another disappeared before their eyes, murmuring, "May the Holy Light of their faith protect them!"
"Al diel shala (Have a safe journey)," Alleria sighed.
Nathanos had already turned his head, glaring angrily at the Orcs who were still struggling in front of him. Today, this land, which was originally blood-red, would be filled with the stench of blood!
A chilling pull swept over Turalyon, like a powerful current drawing him along. In that instant, darkness, starlight, and all sorts of strange colors blurred before his eyes. Then, he began to materialize, the warm air comforting him.
Bright...it's really bright here. Turalyon raised a hand to shield his eyes. It's hot! A dry, relentless heat assaulted Khadgar, and it seemed to have a physical form. Khadgar blinked, then gasped.
If the Dark Portal they had previously traversed was done in haste, then the colossal portal before him was clearly the Orcs' masterpiece. Turalyon stood atop the rock, appearing minuscule compared to the Dark Portal. Two enormous hooded stone statues towered on either side of him, numerous braziers burning with dark flames illuminating the surroundings. Two pillars topped with flames stood along a strange path.
Before them lay a red, barren, cracked plain. It was so familiar, looking no different from the Blasted Lands. Khadgar followed Turalyon, gazing into the distance, watching flames leap from the parched earth. But most captivating was the sky. It was red, the deep red of blood. In the distance, the sun beat down fiercely on the earth, radiating scorching heat.