"Look, what is that in the sky?"
"It looks like a flying monster!"
"It looks like a fish."
"And it's screeching!"
"It looks like it's made of iron!"
"Is it some kind of new weapon of the demons?"
"Quick, get the weapons!"
"Gather all the warriors immediately!"
The arrival of the helicopter was not welcomed. All the orcs of Garadar tensed up, emerging from their tents or returning from the wilderness, grabbing their weapons and standing ready near the landing point of the helicopter outside the town.
These Mag'har orcs had not gone to the Kil'jaeden Throne gathering. They had not drunk the blood of Mannoroth, nor had they consumed water or food from the fel-tainted land. Therefore, they still retained the original healthy brown skin of the orcs, distinctly different from their green-skinned brethren.
They were all the old, weak, and disabled who had been abandoned by the Horde. Twenty years ago, the strong warriors had already gone to conquer the new world on the other side of the Dark Portal, leaving them to guard the ancient orcish sacred grounds.
When Draenor shattered, most of Nagrand was fortunately preserved. After the initial panic, the Mag'har orcs resumed a rare peaceful life. For the past dozen years, they had carefully concealed their whereabouts. Although there were rampant demons outside, as well as fel orcs and Draenei Lost Ones driven mad by fel energy, the Mag'har orcs still lived a peaceful and tranquil life in the relatively secluded Nagrand.
Dranosh was striding outwards with his axe when he saw the white-haired old woman also hurrying out, and couldn't help but ask loudly:
"Grandmother Geyah, why are you coming out too? You're not well, you should go back quickly! Leave this to us!"
Grandmother Geyah was the most respected elder among the Mag'har orcs. She had taken in these old, weak orcs abandoned by the Horde, and had raised almost all the young and sickly children. Garrosh and Dranosh were among them.
This respected old woman was the old shaman of the Frostwolf Clan, Durotan's mother, and the grandmother of the current Warchief Thrall.
"I have a premonition that I should go and see." Grandmother Geyah waved her withered hand and said, "Don't worry about me, Aggra is right beside me to support me, I can still walk. You go quickly, Dranosh!"
A young female orc was supporting Grandmother Geyah. She was Grandmother Geyah's disciple, following her grandmother to learn the shamanic path. Aggra was very talented, and Grandmother Geyah had always praised her.
"Grandmother Geyah, those people on the iron bird, have you seen them? Do you think they are enemies or friends?" Aggra asked.
"They don't seem like enemies. Let's go, let's go and see and we'll know!"
When Dranosh rushed over, the mechanical iron bird was slowly descending. He saw Garrosh vigilantly staring at the iron bird, and assigning strong orc warriors to surround it.
The children who had been abandoned by the Horde had grown up into adults, each one healthier than the last, all excellent warriors. Those old orcs who abandoned them probably wouldn't have imagined it would turn out this way.
Garrosh still remembered that after the end of the Second War, the defeated orc chieftain Kargath Bladefist had hoped to recruit soldiers from here, and when he saw this group of old, weak, sick, and disabled, he had viciously cursed them to rot and die here.
Kargath's words had remained in Garrosh's heart. At that time, he was covered in sores, weak and powerless, and couldn't even refute the other party's ridicule. But more than a dozen years had passed, and he believed that he could definitely face Kargath in his prime!
However, this chieftain had also been missing for a long time, and he probably wouldn't have such an opportunity.
Dranosh came to Garrosh's side. He had good eyesight and saw Corki in the cockpit. He smiled easily and said to Garrosh, "Relax, brother, did you see that? There's a little person sitting in this iron bird, he doesn't look taller than my leg!"
"There won't be just him in the iron bird," Garrosh said. As the helicopter slowly descended, he suddenly felt a sense of inexplicable tension—could there be danger?
"So what? I can beat twenty of these gnomes with one hand!" Dranosh laughed.
Corki in the helicopter saw such a large group of orcs surrounding him, and couldn't help but ask the two orcs behind him, "Hey, you two, do you think these orcs below will attack us?"
"Probably not," Varok replied.
"Their skin is different from yours, are you sure these are really your former relatives?" Corki had long been able to distinguish that the skin of the orcs below was brown.
"We used to be this color too," Varok's voice was filled with nostalgia.
His answer made Grom fall silent: this change was related to him. Back then, when Ner'zhul summoned all the orcs, he was the first to drink the demon blood that Gul'dan handed him. After that, he turned green, and his eyes radiated an abnormal red light.
"Alright, I'm going to prepare to land!" Corki said to Kassadin next to him, "We only have this one plane, you have to protect it, otherwise we'll all have to walk to meet the summoner!"
"I can travel faster on my own than by plane," Kassadin replied.
"..." Corki was speechless.
In any case, before the plane landed safely, the group of brown-skinned orcs did not launch an attack. Corki opened the hatch, an action that made the orc warriors even more vigilant. They were worried that monsters like demons would suddenly fly out of the belly of this iron bird.
Corki jumped out of the plane first. He pushed his goggles onto his head, looked up at the strongest orc warrior in front of him, and greeted, "Hi, hello! I'm Corki, the ace pilot of the Screaming Serpent! Nice to meet you!"
But the orc looked confused—Corki was speaking the common language of Azeroth, and obviously these Mag'har orcs had not learned this language.
"Who are you, and what are you doing?" Garrosh looked at the furry little guy in front of him. This was the pilot who drove the iron bird. This furry face looked like—a rat or something.
He was speaking Orcish, and Corki naturally couldn't understand it.
"Translator, quick, I need a translator!" Corki shouted into the cabin. "What's going on, you two, are you shy?"
The two orcs, homesick and timid, then jumped out reluctantly.
Seeing two green-skinned orcs coming out of the belly of the iron bird, the group of Mag'har orcs immediately exclaimed.
"Are those the corrupted guys?"
"Fel orcs!"
"No—look at them, they look familiar!"
"Look at the orc's weapon!"
The orcs were talking and exclaiming.
Garrosh was almost stunned. He was already very old when he was abandoned, and had a very deep impression of the past. What's more, that orc was holding "Gorehowl"?
This was the chieftain of the Warsong Clan, his father, Grom Hellscream!
The father who had shamed him, the first to drink the blood of the demon!
"Garrosh." Grom recognized his son at a glance. Garrosh's chest was heaving with intense panting, and his breathing was very heavy.
"Why did you come back!" Garrosh roared, "Haven't you brought enough disaster to the orcs?"
His eyes were bloodshot, because of extreme anger.
Grom fell silent. He had indeed brought disaster to the orcs. He once thought that it was supreme glory, but even his own son was ashamed of it.
That was not glory at all.
He once again realized how serious a mistake he had made in the past.
"The orcs are different now. Garrosh," Grom said, "Now we are restoring traditions, and more importantly, we are also trying to punish the demons who deceived us!"
While the father and son were talking, Varok Saurfang walked towards Grandmother Geyah. In fact, he had already seen his son Dranosh beside his grandmother. When he left, Dranosh was very young, almost without memory. He could recognize his son, but his son could no longer recognize him.
"Grandmother Geyah." Varok saluted the old woman, "I never thought I would see you again."
"I didn't expect it either," Grandmother Geyah smiled, "Varok, why did you come back here? What are you here for?"
"It's a long story," Varok sighed. He looked at his son Dranosh, hoping that the other party could call him "Dad" in person.
Grandmother Geyah said to Dranosh, "Look, this is your father, Dranosh." The old woman introduced to the young orc beside her.
Dranosh was stunned. He never expected that he would see his father in his lifetime.
"Are you my father?" Dranosh looked at the green-skinned middle-aged orc. The other's eyes were deep, and wrinkles had already appeared on his forehead. He knew that his appearance was seventy to eighty percent similar to this middle-aged orc, but the other's green skin always made him feel that the two were completely different, and even did not seem to be of the same race.
Many Mag'har orcs have this idea when they see green-skinned compatriots. They are the orthodox orcs, and these green-skinned orcs are mutants polluted by demons. Although this change is not as obvious as normal Draenei and Draenei Broken, it is a big enough difference for them.
"I am your father." Varok said in a deep voice. He looked at his young and strong son and said sincerely, "Dranosh, I hope you can come back to my side, alright?"
Dranosh didn't know how to answer for a while. The blood relationship prevented him from rejecting his father's request, but the strangeness of not seeing each other for twenty years made it difficult for him to feel close to the father in front of him. What's more, the other party has green skin.
Grandmother Geyah coughed and interrupted them. She looked at Varok and asked, "Tell me your purpose. To be honest, present-day Garadar, that is, this town behind us, our home for this group of Mag'har orcs, does not welcome green-skinned orcs."
Varok felt a pain in his heart. He understood what price they had paid for the path they had taken twenty years ago.
He couldn't hide it from the wise old lady, and he didn't intend to deceive her. He began to tell Grandmother Geyah what they had experienced in these years after their separation, hoping that these words could move her and other compatriots.
His words attracted all the Mag'har orcs present, and they gathered around, listening to the old warrior from the Thunderlord clan recounting his thrilling experiences in another world.
Grandmother Geyah did not interrupt. She listened quietly before asking, "So, Ner'zhul ultimately did not escape punishment?"
"Yes."
Grandmother Geyah sighed: "He used to be a respected old shaman, what a pity."
"So you are preparing to drag our group of Mag'har orcs who are far away from the flames of war onto the battlefield?" Garrosh roared angrily, "Why? We pure orcs only have these last bloodlines left. Why don't you let us go?"
"I won't force you to participate in the war, Garrosh." Grom looked at his son who had repeatedly disobeyed him. The Garrosh in his memory was still in the stage of being weak, sickly, inferior, and cowardly when he was a child. His current son really surprised him. He remembered what Aiden said about Garrosh when he first entered Hellfire Peninsula. At first, he didn't believe that his son would embark on a path that was even darker and more depraved than him, but now he somewhat believed it. The Garrosh in front of him was too sensitive and believed in bloodlines. If there was a suitable opportunity, he might really embark on the same path as the Garrosh who was corrupted by the evil energy on the Frozen Throne.
"Perhaps you should stay in Draenor, staying here would be better." Grom said to his son who was looking at him angrily, "But I believe orcs should have the right to choose. We were once servants of the demons, and now is the time to rise up and take revenge! We must kill the demons who once deceived us and enslaved us! Only the blood of demons can wash away our shame and unlock the curse on us!"
Seeing that the two father and son were about to start a new round of arguing, Grandmother Geyah said, "Stop it, you two."
Grom and his son had no choice but to stop arguing.
Everyone looked at her. Everyone understood that she was the one who decided the fate of the Mag'har orcs.
"I will not go to the world you speak of," Grandmother Geyah said.
Her statement greatly disappointed Grom and Varok, and their hearts sank. The Mag'har orcs all listened to Grandmother Geyah, when she opposed, who else would agree?
"But I don't object to those who are willing to go with you leaving." Grandmother Geyah changed her tone, and the situation immediately took a turn for the better, "Whether it is the Mag'har orcs or the orcs on the other side of the Dark Portal, we are all from the same race, and fighting against the demons is our common destiny. I have seen demons and know how terrible they are. So I support your cause!"
Varok immediately turned his sorrow into joy, he did not expect Grandmother Geyah to be so open-minded.
"Thank you, Grandmother Geyah. Thank you!" Varok lowered his head and said repeatedly.
"No need." Grandmother Geyah showed a kind smile, she looked at the two green-skinned orcs, "You said that in that world I have a grandson, his name is Go'el (Thrall's orc name), right? What a good name. His parents were both good people, Durotan and Draka, how I miss them!" Her eyes were filled with nostalgia. She instructed Varok: "I am old and cannot walk anymore. After you go back, tell him, if he has time, come back and see me. alright?"
"We will definitely bring your words to the Warchief!" Varok guaranteed loudly.
"Come, tell me more about my grandson. How is Go'el now?"
—
To the north of Mount Hyjal, the home of the night elves, lies a land blessed by the moon goddess Elune. This is the home of Cenarius, Lord of the Forest, named Moonglade. Cenarius is Elune's own son, so it is only natural that he receives such care.
Moonglade is home to Cenarius and his offspring, the innocent dryads and the brave and skilled Keepers of the Grove. There are also many cute and docile little animals.
Cenarius is the mentor of all druids, and most of the druids who try to enter the Emerald Dream will also come here to sleep.
Before, Tyrande had repeatedly failed to awaken the druids, and Cenarius's children naturally learned of this news.
The dryads and Keepers of the Grove also tried their best to awaken their father, but their attempts all ended in failure. They were very anxious, and Cenarius's son Remulos even wanted to enter the Dream to see what had happened. But he tried many times, but failed to enter the Emerald Dream, as if the door that had been opened was tightly closed again, and he and others could no longer enter and exit freely.
Remulos was extremely anxious. Now that the Burning Legion has descended, he believes that this strange thing must be related to the demons, and he almost couldn't help but fight the demons outside.
Fortunately, Archdruid Fandral Staghelm woke up. After he learned that the other party was going to Felwood to clear the demons entrenched there, he immediately prepared to find Staghelm.
Remulos wanted to ask in person, what exactly happened in the Emerald Dream.
The object he wanted to inquire about, Fandral Staghelm, after completing the task ordered by the Nightmare Lord, led the night elf troops down the mountain from the southern foot of Mount Hyjal to begin the clearing mission. He planned to attack all the way north, gradually compressing the living space of the demons in Felwood until they were completely cleared.
Staghelm had experienced many great battles and knew very well how to carry out such a task. He sent out a large number of hippogryph riders to scout and find every corner where demons might be hiding. In the previous two engagements, they cleanly eliminated their opponents and recovered two night elf outposts that were originally stationed here.
"Is that Bloodvenom River ahead?" Staghelm frowned as he looked at the map. Felwood was polluted by demons ten thousand years ago, and it has not returned to its original appearance until now. Instead, because more demons have recently descended, the situation here has deteriorated even more. Bloodvenom River is a river polluted by fel energy, and the nearby mountains are high and the forests are deep, and the terrain is complex. It is the most likely place for the demons' base camp to hide.
"Let our sentries scout more carefully!" Staghelm ordered. "Be vigilant, the next battle is likely to be a fierce one!"
Just half an hour later, the hippogryph rider brought back important information: traces of demons were found ahead—Keeper of the Grove Remulos was besieged by demons!