Christie Golden - Rise of the Horde

But he only barely registered the skill that had gone into its creation. His eyes were transfixed on the young draenei. He looked so terribly small next to the enormous arch—small, and thin, and bruised. He stared vacantly at the sea of orcs who were bellowing at him, so far beyond terror that he obviously felt nothing.

“What are they going to do with it?” Draka wondered aloud.

Durotan shook his head. “I fear the worst,” he said.

She stared at him. “I saw some killing of children in battle.” she said. “The bloodlust was upon them—I could not condone it, but I could see how it could happen, but surely they will not make a ritual sacrifice out of this child!”

“I hope you are right.” said Durotan, but he could see no other reason for the small figure to be present. If such were the case, he could not stand by. He did not want to risk harm to his clan, so he prayed he was wrong.

The warlocks were chanting something now, and to Durotan’s amazement, Gul’dan appeared right before their eyes. The Horde murmured, and Gul’dan smiled benevolently at them.

“Today is a glorious day for the orcs!” he cried. “You have all seen this Portal being built, admired the craftsmanship and how it stands as a monument to the glory of the Horde. Now, I will reveal to you the visions I have had.” He pointed at the gate. “Far, far away, in a land called Azeroth, I have an ally. He offers us his land. It is green and lush, filled with pure water and fat creatures to hunt. Best of all, we will continue to exult in the glory of bloodshed. A race called “humans” the enemy of our ally, will try to stop us from taking their lands. We will destroy them. Their dark blood will flow freely upon our swords. As we have destroyed the draenei, so now we will destroy the humans!”

A cheer went up. Draka shook her head in disbelief. “How can they still feel this way? Can they not see this new land will suffer as ours has if we continue on this path?”

Durotan nodded his agreement. “But at the same time, there is no choice. We need food, water. We must go through this Portal.” Draka sighed, seeing the logic but not liking it.

“Even now, our ally is working to open the Portal on his side. And now, we will begin.” He gestured to the little draenei captive. “Blood is a pure offering to those who give us these vast powers. And the blood of a child is purer still. With the life fluid of our enemies, we will open the Portal and step into a glorious new world—a new page in the history of the Horde!”

He approached the bound child, who looked up at him with empty eyes. Gul’dan raised a jeweled dagger. It glinted in the sunlight.

“No!”

The word was ripped from Durotan’s lips. Everyone turned to stare at him. He surged forward. If this new venture was opened by the blood of an innocent child, no good could come of it. He did not make it three steps before he was tackled and went down hard on the sun-baked earth. The instant it happened, he heard Draka utter her war cry and the clang of metal on metal as she charged. Chaos erupted. He struggled to his feet and beheld the crumpled form of the child. Blue blood spurted from his slashed throat.

“Gul’dan, what have you done to us!” Durotan shrieked, but his protest was lost in the roar of the enraged mob of orcs. The Frostwolves had sprung into action to defend their chieftain, and the shouts of battle were almost deafening. Durotan’s breath was knocked out of his lungs as his attacker—he could not tell from what clan—resumed the fight. In defense, Durotan lifted his axe and swung. The other dodged, moving more swiftly than Durotan had expected, came up, and—

The tenor of the cries abruptly changed as the earth rumbled beneath their feet and a deep, piercing sound shuddered along their bones. The fighting stopped and as one the orcs turned to gaze at the Portal. Moments before, one could look into the area outlined by the pillars and simply see more of the Hellfire Peninsula landscape. Now there was a blackness and a swirl of stars, as if one were looking into a night sky gone mad. Even Durotan’s eyes were riveted on the sight. As he watched, the blackness shimmered and reformed itself into a scene that both startled and puzzled him.

Gul’dan had spoken of a beautiful land, rich with fat preybeasts, fertile fields, blue skies. Durotan was indeed looking at a place he had never seen before, but it was a far cry from the idyllic realm Gul’dan had described. It was as moist as Draenor now was arid. A thick haze floated above brackish water and swaying marshland grasses. A buzzing, chirping sound filled the air. At least, thought Durotan, there was life in this strange place.

Unhappy murmurs ran through the crowd. This was where Gul’dan wanted to send them? It was not much better on first glance than their own land. But then again, Durotan realized, water meant life. Orange though the sky was, not blue, and drenched though the land was not filled with flowers and meadows, it could support life.

He turned to look at Gul’dan as the murmuring rose in volume. Gul’dan was obviously trying to cover his own shock. He waved his arms for silence.

“Azeroth is a large world, as is our own!” he cried. “You know how different the land can be from place to place. I am certain it is the same here. This place … does not look as inviting as I was …” His voice trailed off and he shook himself, visibly recovering. “But behold, this is in truth another land! It is real! You!”

Gul’dan pointed at two dozen fully armored orcs who stood beside the Portal. They snapped to attention. “You have been chosen to be the first to investigate this new land. Go forth, in the name of the Horde!”

The orcs hesitated only an instant, then grimly ran forward into the Portal.

The scene vanished.

Durotan’s head whipped around to stare at Gul’dan. The warlock was doing his best to stay composed, but clearly he had been rattled.

“They are our scouts” Gul’dan said. “They will return with news of this world.”

And before the gathered orcs could truly begin to grow worried, the image of the swamp reappeared and the orcs hurried through. They were grinning from ear to ear. More than half of them carried the carcasses of large animals. One was a reptile of some sort, scaly, long-tailed, with stubby legs and huge jaws. The other was a four-legged, furry thing, with claws on all four of its feet, a long tail, small rounded ears and spots on its yellow, glossy coat. Both were obviously healthy specimens.

“We have slain and eaten both type of creatures,” the leader of the scout said. “Their flesh is wholesome. The water there is pure. We do not need a beautiful land. We need one that will feed and sustain us. This Azeroth will do so admirably, Gul’dan.”

A murmur went through the crowed. Despite himself, Durotan felt his gaze drawn to the beasts the scouts had brought through and his stomach growled. It had been two days since he had eaten. Gul’dan visibly relaxed. He looked over at Durotan, and his eyes narrowed. Durotan tasted apprehension, sharp and bitter, in his throat.

He and his clan were needed. He knew that. He also knew that his defense of the child—and the reaction it had provoked among the other clans, many of whom had come to the defense of the Frostwolves—would not be forgotten. He had half suspected that Gul’dan would order his execution or banishment, but apparently Durotan and the Frostwolves yet had some use to Gul’dan and Blackhand.

So be it. For now, he would fight alongside his brethren. Tomorrow would have to take care of itself. Whatever betided, Durotan knew he would die with his honor intact.

Gul’dan looked back over the crowd of expectant orcs and took a deep breath.