Inner Sanctum

Rebel outposts dotted the Northern Barrens. Over the past few weeks, the ones roaming this wasteland should have been Kor'kron wolf riders, but now, the red banners were nowhere to be seen.

The forward outpost by the Southfury River belonged to the Horde and had been provided to the Forsaken as a temporary base.

"Siege Master? A pleasure to meet you." Belmont laughed as he sized up the Goblin before him and his entourage.

Heklar held a cigar between his teeth and gave a bitter smile. He admitted that he looked rather bedraggled—his white hair was coated in dust, and even his dark skin could not hide the dirt on his face.

"Slipping out of Orgrimmar without drawing attention was no easy task," Heklar said. "Luckily, the Night Elves outside the northern gate had let their guard down, giving us an opening. Even so, I had to take a huge detour to avoid the battlefield."

"The master will reward you," Belmont said. His eyes drifted toward the prison wagons behind Heklar, covered in black cloth. Thugs and bodyguards escorted the vehicles.

"Tell me, you completed the master's task, didn't you?"

Heklar did not like being questioned, and Belmont's strange voice seemed to be mocking him. "Of course. Not one missing. The master's list is right here. Want to count them?" He waved the sheet of paper covered in names.

"If I did, I would be questioning the Blade of the Witherer's abilities, which would be the same as questioning the master." Belmont shook his head. He was not stupid; among the Forsaken, he knew The Witherer valued his unique followers most highly.

"Speaking of which, where is the master?" Heklar looked around and saw that nearly half the Forsaken's fighting force had gathered here. With such a massive deployment, The