Extracting Information

At Marius Farm, Nathanos once again approached Grot. But he saw the bread he had just stuffed into the Orcs's mouth spit out on the ground, and two rats were enjoying it.

Was it fear of poison or a refusal to accept human charity? Nathanos preferred the second explanation. This Orcs still had value, and Nathanos had some questions for him, but he needed to get the Orcs to talk, which wouldn't be easy, and there was another very serious problem. He decided to test the Orcs first.

"Do you know what the Alliance calls you?" Nathanos looked at him, catching every subtle change in the Orcs's expression. "They call you monsters, and they certainly do. You came to me riding a dragon." Nathanos maintained his calm demeanor, leaving Grot guessing his intentions. "It seems the Horde is indeed very powerful, having someone capable of taming a dragon, and you are one of them." After he finished speaking, the Orcs suddenly burst into laughter, accepting the compliment, even if it came from a human.

"I let her go, that dragon," Nathanos said suddenly with a smile upon seeing the reaction. This statement stunned the Orcs, who then immediately went berserk.

"What did you say? Damn human, what have you done? Ner'zhul and Zuluhed will kill me!" Grot roared, but he could not break free of his restraints, nor could he attack Nathanos was standing just two meters away.

Clap clap clap...! Nathanos clapped his hands, which puzzled Grot. What was this human up to?

"You know what?" Nathanos took another meter closer. "I've studied how to extract secrets from others, and I'm quite skilled at it. But right now, you possess the information I want to know. The biggest problem isn't how to get you to talk, but how we're supposed to communicate." Grot's face paled as Nathanos spoke. He realized he'd fallen for a trap. Nathanos had started by flattering him, then suddenly told him the Red Dragon had been released, and he'd blurted it out, clearly indicating that he understood human languages. Nathanos Orgrim ordered the Horde Warrior to learn human languages so they could communicate when interrogating captured humans. But now, it had backfired.

"Despicable human!" Grot shouted in standard human language. The human in front of him laughed, which made Grot even angrier. "Don't be so smug. I won't tell you anything. Your kingdom is about to be conquered by the Horde."

"The war isn't over yet, Orcs," Nathanos replied. "And what you just said seems a bit off, that 'I won't tell you anything' line. Didn't you realize what you said when you were angry?"

Upon hearing this, Grot calmed down and immediately recalled what he had just said. People often speak the truth when in emergency situations or when they are carried away by their own triumph; this was a lesson Uther had taught Nathanos.

"Don't you remember?" Seeing that Grot had clearly fallen into his trap, Nathanos immediately said, "You said you were a deserter who left your people with a Red Dragon."

The Orcs laughed loudly. "Laughable human, do you think I would fall for your trap? I would never say such a thing. I am the most powerful Dragon Knight under Zuluhed, and even Ner'zhul has to watch his tone when he speaks to me." He looked at Nathanos smugly.

"Oh? So your boss is called Zuluhed, and you have a partner named Ner'zhul?"

"What! You...!" Grot was extremely surprised, feeling very uncomfortable at being played. "Despicable human."

"This is the second time you've used those two words to describe me. Is there anything else?"

"Shameless!"

"Thank you for the compliment," Nathanos replied. He then tried various methods to extract information from Grot, but the Orcs in front of him had clearly become smarter after being tricked several times. He stopped paying attention to Nathanos, shut his mouth, and ignored the sarcasm.

"Interesting," Nathanos said, then turned and left.

"This human's gone?" Grot stared at the closed door. Silence returned. It seemed this human had given up. Grot felt a surge of smug satisfaction. He hadn't told Nathanos any more important information. So far, Nathanos only knew his superior's name, which was nothing special.

After an unknown amount of time, Grot suddenly heard noises outside: the bleating of sheep being chased, the sound of the raging wind hitting the windows, and the sound of a large tree falling and hitting the roof.

'What happened?' Grot tried to figure out what was going on, but in the pitch-black warehouse, his ears were more useful than his eyes. He came to at least one conclusion—there was chaos outside, otherwise there wouldn't be so many eerie sounds. Then Grot suddenly heard a familiar roar. Yes, he knew that voice better than anyone else; it was the voice of Red Dragon. He laughed. Another Red Dragon had arrived, and he was certain it wasn't his own, but one of his companions. The other Dragon Knight of the Dragonmaw Clan had come to his rescue. Although Grot didn't know how they had found him—perhaps the Red Dragon that the human had released had gone back to report, or perhaps his own people had found his trail—in any case, that human was doomed.

"Prepare for the end, human!" Grot shouted, even forgetting to use the Orcs language. He had to make the human hear his mockery before he was eaten. Perhaps that would make Grot more comfortable; the more chaotic the noise outside, the happier he was.

"Soon, the Dragon Knight of the Dragonmaw Clan will destroy this ridiculous house of yours, and then your Elf allies, the flames of the Red Dragon will burn fiercely in the jungles of Quel'Thalas." He roared, offering this crucial news as a gift to the "dead." As soon as he finished speaking, all sound began to slowly fade away, and everything gradually returned to its previous silence.

'Is it over?' Grot thought to himself. That human might have become the Red Dragon's meal, but he didn't seem to hear any screams or smell any fire. He was puzzled.

With a 'whoosh,' the warehouse door opened again, and Nathanos walked in unharmed, looking more tired than before.

What's going on? Grot's eyes widened. This human should have been eaten.

"I'm so tired." Nathanos rubbed his throat. "The Red Dragon's voice is really hard to imitate. I was worried before, but it looks pretty good now. I just need to give my voice a rest, and I also need to drive the sheep back to the pen. As for that fallen tree, I need to figure out what to do with it."

Grot listened to him, noticing the woodcutter's axe in his hand; everything that had just happened was the work of this human. He had been tricked once again.

"You...! I'm going to kill you!" Grot twisted his body desperately, ignoring the stinging pain from the ropes binding him. His face was contorted with rage, and he gritted his teeth, wanting to tear Nathanos to pieces.

"How can you blame me?" The human shrugged; he wasn't afraid of the Orcs's threats. "I've been waiting for that gale. You know, it's normal for this kind of weather at this time of year, otherwise how would I create the atmosphere? Luckily, I can mimic any sound I've ever heard, although it is indeed... very difficult."

Grot struggled and didn't hear Nathanos's explanation at all; that face filled him with hatred.

"Don't look at me like that. I didn't want to do this either. If you had told me earlier that the Horde planned to use the Red Dragon to attack Quel'Thalas, I wouldn't have been able to fool you time and time again." Nathanos walked up to him and punched Grot in the stomach. The Orcs opened his mouth in pain, and Nathanos shoved a piece of bread into it and forced him to drink goat's milk.

"This is your reward." Nathanos knocked him unconscious immediately after he swallowed the food. Grot didn't even see him move before his head slumped down. Nathanos untied his ropes and then re-bound him with the chains he found. This time Grot could move, but only his hands. Nathanos would be gone for a few days, and he didn't want the Orcs to starve to death when he returned. The human placed enough food beside him and turned to leave, glancing back at the door to make sure everything was alright.

With a clang, the door slammed shut. Nathanos shook his head, then turned his gaze to the misty forest to the north.

Five days later, Doomhammer and his Horde stood atop a hill, looking down. They were now between the last peak of the mountain range and the edge of a vast forest. The rest of the Horde gathered behind him, exhausted from the constant climbing and marching, but the thought of the new battle to come made them forget their fatigue, especially the Forest Troll.

"Shall we go in now?" Zul'jin looked eagerly at Doomhammer, who nodded.

"Yes, now," the chieftain agreed. "Go and defeat those Elf, don't leave a single one alive." The Troll chieftain grinned, tilted his head back, and let out a strange howl. Another Forest Troll immediately appeared, standing not far from the two chieftains, moving swiftly and silently. Then a third Troll emerged from behind a boulder and stood beside him, followed by more Troll appearing until the valley behind the hill was filled with similar creatures. This number far exceeded Doomhammer's expectations; it seemed Zul'jin's recall of manpower had been quite successful.

"I've found a lot of guys," he explained, laughing. "The Withered Tree Tribe, the Burning Thorn Tribe, and the Rotten Moss Tribe have joined us too!"

Doomhammer nodded. Although these Troll were significantly larger than him, he wasn't afraid of them. He had faced even larger and stronger opponents before, but he had always emerged standing. Besides, Zul'jin had made a deep impression on him in the months since they formed their alliance. This Forest Troll was cunning and possessed his own sense of honor. He had promised the Forest Troll that he would help the Horde. Orgrim was willing to take the risk and trust him.

Of course, the fact that the Forest Troll hated the High Elf solidified Doomhammer's belief. No Troll would object to heading north to Quel'Thalas to find and attack the Elf. Doomhammer initially made them wait, buying time for the other Horde members to prepare. Although Zul'jin, like his people, desperately wanted to attack the Elf, he managed to restrain himself and his kind.

Now, the long ordeal was over. Zul'jin roared, leaping down the hill, using the momentum to jump onto trees, nimbly swinging from one trunk to another. His people followed closely behind, leaping into the bushes and gradually disappearing from sight, only the rustling of leaves and occasional low whistles indicating their presence. Doomhammer knew they were making their way deep into the jungle, searching for any Elf he could find and kill them. Soon, those long-eared elves would learn of the Troll invasion and immediately resist them.

This way, the Horde's army can be hidden, Elf will not suspect that there are other threats on their borders.

The Doomhammer gave the signal, and the rest of the Horde began to move forward from the hills, eventually arriving at the edge of the forest.

"Now, Great Chief?" asked an Orcs Warrior beside him, gripping his battle axe tightly. Only after the Troll's commotion completely subsided did Doomhammer nod. The Warrior then turned to the tree behind him; its trunk was incredibly thick, its surface smooth as silk, its leaves lush and verdant, exuding a natural and vibrant energy. The Orcs Warrior glanced at it, then with a powerful swing, chopped a large chunk of wood from the trunk. He then raised his axe again, intending to widen the cut further.

"No, that's not how it's done!" Doomhammer snatched the Warrior's axe and shoved him backward. "That's a waste of time!" He decided to demonstrate himself. "Watch closely!"

He spoke, then swung the axe back, engaging his muscles, leveling the axe, and forcefully chopped it straight into the tree trunk. He then pulled the axe out sharply and continued chopping at the same spot. On the third strike, only a small piece of wood and bark was supporting the tree. Doomhammer pulled the axe out, looked up, and then pushed the trunk hard. The tree tilted and fell, the unchopped parts crackling and splintering under their weight and the force of the fall. A cloud of dust rose, and leaves and berries scattered across the ground.

"Here, do as I do." He tossed the axe to the Warrior. The latter nodded and walked to another tree. The second Warrior, already axe in hand, stood on the felled tree, ready to chop it into pieces of firewood.

Not far from him, more Orcs Warrior began the same task. Carrying supplies for such a large army was a hassle, so they simply took what they needed from the lands they had conquered. The firewood from this forest should be enough for the Horde for several weeks, perhaps even months. And every tree they felled weakened the Elf's defenses. Thankfully, Zul'jin wasn't here, otherwise he would have definitely confronted Orgrim. This would harm his interests while simultaneously attacking the Elf; without a forest, could they still be called Forest Troll? Orgrim smiled; another reason he had Zul'jin leave was to end an unnecessary argument before it even began.

As the Orcs worked diligently, Orgrim noticed something amiss out of the corner of his eye. A short, bristling Orcs was approaching him, his face covered in horrifying scars and a twisted expression that Doomhammer, but the orc seemed excited.

"What's wrong?" Doomhammer asked as Gul'dan approached him.

"You should see for yourself the great Doomhammer," Gul'dan said, bowing deeply. The two-headed Ogre Cho'gall grinned foolishly behind him.

"Something that can greatly help the Horde."