Chapter 16 Chapter fifteen

Thrall's mouth fell open in surprise.Did he offend Orgrim just now?Doomhammer, Warchief of the Horde, his father's closest friend?The orc leader he'd dreamed of all these years?That armor and hammer should have ended the game long ago.What a stupid fellow he is! Thrall hurriedly knelt down and fell to the ground. "Most noble Doomhammer, I beg your forgiveness. I didn't know—" He glanced at Drek'Thar. "My teacher may have warned me—" "That would ruin everything," Doomhammer replied, still smiling. "I wanted to test it out, to see if you really had the passion and pride that Grom? Hellscream was talking to me about. Turns out I saw so much more than that... I was defeated!" He laughed again, loudly, like it was the funniest thing that had happened to him in years.Thrall finally felt a little relieved.Doomhammer's laughter stopped, and he placed a hand full of sincerity and enthusiasm on the young orc's shoulder.

"Come and sit with me, Thrall, son of Durotan," he said. "We've got to finish our meal, and you're going to tell me your story, and I'll tell you the legend of your father you've never heard of." Exultation overwhelmed Thrall.He reached out his hand vigorously and held the hand on his shoulder tightly.Doomhammer looked at Thrall suddenly gravely, and nodded. Now everyone knows who this mysterious stranger really is - Drek'Thar says he knew everything from the beginning, he sent Sharp Ears to find Doomhammer, because the Frostwolf clan has the ability to follow his Treat this guest with due respect.They took out several hares that were to be dried for other purposes, skinned them, coated them with precious oils and herbs, and roasted them over a fire.More herbs are thrown into the flames, their sweet aromas wafting with the smoke.It was almost intoxicating.People took out the drums and blowpipes, and soon the music sounded leisurely, lingering in the smoke, conveying respect and joy to the soul world.

Thrall stuttered a bit at first, but Doomhammer worked out his story patiently, listening and asking short questions.When Sal finished speaking, he didn't speak immediately. "This Blackmoore," he said. "He sounds like Gul'dan. A man who has no people at heart, only his own interests and desires." Sal nodded. "I'm not the only one who appreciates his cruelty and moodiness. I'm sure he hates orcs, but has little love for his own people." "As for this Terasa, and the sergeant...I didn't know humans had such kindness and honor." "I would never have known honor and mercy if it hadn't been for the sergeant," Thrall said, a ripple in his heart. "I can't learn the trick I used on you. It won me many battles."

Doomhammer laughed, then calmed down. "In my experience, men hate us, women and children fear us. But this little girl, of her own accord, befriended you." "She had a great heart," Sal said. "I can't praise her enough more than to say that I would proudly accept her as a member of our clan. She has an orc-like heart, full of compassion and compassion." Doomhammer was silent for a moment.Finally, he said, "After that humiliating fiasco, I was alone for years. I know what they say about me. I'm a bum, a coward, hiding from people. You know why You know I've been laughing at everyone else tonight, Thrall?"

Thrall shook his head silently. "Because I need to go back to myself and ask myself what happened. Think. Remind myself of who I really am and who we are. All the while, I've been like this tonight. Wandering to the campfire, accepting their hospitality, Listen to their experience, and learn." He paused. "I know as much as you do of the prisons of men. I was once a prisoner of Terenas, King of Lordaeron. Then I escaped, just as you escaped from Durnholde. I I've even been in a detention center once, and I know how devastated it is, how hopeless it is. I almost became one of them."

Doomhammer had been staring at the burning flames as he spoke.Now he turned to Thrall.Although his gray eyes were clear and lacked the evil fire of Hellscream's eyes, against the firelight they looked as red as Grom's. "But I didn't sink, I ran away, like you, and found that easy. But it's hard for the fellows still huddled in the mud. There's only so much we can do out there. If a pig loves it There's no point in the corral with that open gate. So are the guys in those camps. When we open the gate for them, they have to have the desire to get out." Thrall began to understand what Doomhammer meant. "Just tearing down those walls won't bring freedom to our people," he said.

Doomhammer nodded. "We must bring them back to the ways of the shaman. They must shed their hearts tainted by the poison of the demon's whisper and embrace their true warrior and spiritual nature. You have earned the respect of the Warsong clan and their valiant leader , Thrall. Now you have the Frostwolf clan, the most independent and honorable clan I know, and they are ready to fight after you. If there is one more orc who can teach our decadent brethren, remind them of who they are If so, that person is you." Thrall thought of that camp, and its dreary, deathly silence.He also remembered how he had escaped from Blackmoore's men in danger.

"As much as I hate that place, I'd love to go back if I could wake up my people," Thrall said. "But you must know that my arrest was what Blackmoore wished for. Twice, I almost got caught by him. I wanted to be the first to charge at him, but..." "But without an army, it's sure to fail," Doomhammer said. "I know this, Thrall. Although I wandered alone, I did not ignore what happened in this land. Don't worry. We will leave some fake traces for Blackmoore and his men to search." "The commander of the camp is looking for me too," Thrall said.

"They're looking for a big, strong, determined, wise Thrall," Doomhammer retorted. "Another unmotivated, mud-covered orc won't get their attention. Can you hide that stubborn pride, my friend? Can you hide it and act like you're listless and completely free of your own will ?" "It will be hard," Thrall admitted, "but I will do it if it helps my people." "That's what a true son of Durotan would say," Doomhammer said, his voice thick. Thrall hesitated, but continued.It occurred to him to know as much as possible. "Drek'Thar told me that Durotan and Draka had set out to find you, leading you to believe that Gul'dan was evil and was using the orcs to satisfy his thirst for power. The cloth that wrapped me told Drek'Thar They were brutally murdered, and I know that when Blackmoore found me, I was surrounded by the corpses of two orcs and a white wolf. Please...please tell me...has my father found you?"

"He found me," Doomhammer said heavily. "It is my greatest regret and sorrow that I did not keep them with me. I feel it was for the sake of my warriors and Durotan. They brought you, young Thrall, and told me of Gul'dan's crimes. I Trusted them. I knew there was a place where they would be safe, or so I thought. I later learned that several of my warriors were spies for Gul'dan. I don't know for sure, but I'm sure The warriors who had been entrusted to lead Durotan to safety called the killers and killed them." Doomhammer sighed deeply, and for a moment Thrall felt as if the weight of the entire world was resting on the pair of broad, strong on the shoulders.

"Drotan was my friend. I would have given my life for him and his family. But I accidentally took their lives. I can only hope to do anything for the children they left behind to make up for my mistakes .You have a glorious and noble bloodline, Thrall, despite the name you chose to leave behind. Let us continue that glorious tradition together." A few weeks later, in the blooming spring, Thrall found it easy to let himself swagger into the village, yell at the villagers, and get arrested.As soon as the net rope caught him, he was instantly defeated, whimpering and convincing his captors that they had defeated Thrall. Even when put in camp, he was always on the lookout not to lose control.But when the novelty of the guards wore off, Thrall began to speak in whispers to those who would listen.He found some orcs who didn't seem to have lost their will.In the dark, while the human guards slumbered at their posts, Thrall spoke to the orcs about their origins.He talked about the power of the shaman, and his own abilities.On more than one occasion, some reported skeptics demanded evidence.Thrall did not make the earth tremble, or summon lightning and thunder.He just grabs a handful of dirt, looking for something still alive in it.Before the astonished eyes of his prisoners, he made the brown earth sprout buds and even blossom. "Even things that seem inanimate and ugly are powerful and beautiful," Thrall told the awed onlookers.They looked at him, and Thrall's heart was full of excitement. He saw the faint light of hope flickering in the expressions of these people. When Thrall was captured voluntarily to rouse the thwarted orc prisoners in the camp, the Frostwolf and Warsong clans united under Doomhammer's banner.They watched Thrall's camp, waiting for his signal. Awakening the downtrodden orcs to revolt took longer than Thrall had expected, but in the end, he decided the time was right.Before the wee hours, when the soft snoring of the guards broke the dewy stillness, Thrall knelt on the generous, solid earth.He raised his hands and begged the spirits of water and fire to come and help him save his people. Here they come. A fine rain began to fall.Suddenly, the sky was torn apart by several bolts of lightning, and after a brief pause, the lightning danced again.The angry thunder kept rolling, almost shaking the earth.This is a pre-agreed signal.The orcs waited in terror and excitement, clinging to the crude stones and clubs and other things that came easily in the camp.They await Thrall's command. A terrible roar pierced the night more violently than thunder, and Thrall's heart rose.He recognized the growl everywhere—was it Grom?Hellscream.The sound startled the orcs, but Thrall yelled over the din, "Those are allies outside our walls! They're coming to free us!" The guards were awakened by the thunder.Hellscream roared and they hurried back to their posts, but it was too late.Thrall called the lightning again, and it came. A jagged bolt of lightning struck the main wall where most of the guards were stationed.Mixed with the loud noise were the clatter of thunder and the screams of the guards.Thrall blinked in the darkness, but there were torches everywhere, and he saw that the wall was completely broken. From the gap, a green torrent poured in.They charged at the guards, knocking them down with ease.The orcs were stunned by the sight and opened their mouths. "Are you excited?" Thrall yelled. "Do you feel your heart longing to fight? Come on, my brothers and sisters!" Without looking back to see if they followed, Thrall rushed for the exit. He heard the orcs scrambling behind him, louder as they moved toward liberation.Suddenly, Thrall cried out in pain as something pierced his arm.An arrow with black feathers pierced almost all of it.He ignored the wound, there would be time to deal with it when everyone was free. The killing sounds around Thrall were loud, and the sounds of metal colliding and sharp blades biting into flesh could be heard everywhere.Some of the smarter guards realized what was going on, and rushed over to block the gap with their bodies.Thrall felt a moment of pity for their senseless deaths, and rushed out. He picks up the weapon in the hands of a fallen companion, and takes down a fledgling guard with an easy swing. "Forward, forward!" he shouted, waving his left hand.The imprisoned orcs huddled together nervously at first, then one roared and rushed forward, and the rest rushed up to follow.Thrall raised the weapon in his hand, and a guard rolled over and fell into the blood-red mud. Thrall panted hard, looking around.As far as he could see, the Frostwolves and the Warsong clan were fighting.There are no more prisoners. "Retreat!" he cried, and departed through the burning ruins of the wall and the wonderful night.His people followed closely behind.One or two guards came after them, but the orcs were much faster, and they got rid of them after a while. The pre-arranged meeting place is next to an ancient stone pillar pile.The night was dark, but the orc's eyes did not need the light of the moon to see.When Thrall came here, a dozen orcs crowded and hid behind eight towering stone pillars. "We succeeded!" A voice came from Thrall's side.He turned to see Doomhammer, his black plate armor glowing with what could only be human blood. "We succeeded! You are free, my brothers, you are free!" The shouts became louder and louder, filling the moonless night and filling Thrall's heart with joy. "If you bring any news I've anticipated, I'll be tempted to take your handsome head off your shoulders," Blackmoore snarled at the hapless herald, whose markings indicated he was Cavalry from a camp. The herald looked a little unhappy. "In that case, perhaps I shouldn't talk," he replied. A bottle of wine to Blackmoore's right seems to beckoning him.He ignored the beautiful singing, even though his palms were sweaty. "Let me guess. There was an uprising in another camp. All the orcs fled. No one knows where they went." "Lord Blackmoore," stammered the young herald, "if I am sure of what you say, will you still chop off my head?" Anger exploded in Blackmoore's heart, and he felt a sting.The intense emotion was followed by a black desperation.What happened?How could those sheep in orc skins recover so quickly and knock their captors to the ground?Where did those orcs come from, armed to the teeth and filled with hatred like they were twenty years ago?Rumor has it that it was the damned Doomhammer, who stepped out of hiding to lead this series of raids.One guard swore he saw the famous black plate armor the bastard was wearing. "You can keep your head," Blackmore said, feeling the bottle within reach. "But you must take a letter to your superiors." "Sir," said the herald mournfully, "I have other news." Blackmoore stared at him with bloodshot eyes. "What news might there be?" "This time, the instigator of the uprising has been identified 100 percent. He is—" "Doomhammer, yes, I heard the rumor." "No, my lord." The herald swallowed.Blackmoore saw sweat pouring down the young man's face. "The leader of the rebel army is... Thrall, my lord." Blackmoore felt the blood on his face congeal. "Damn you lying, boy," he said softly. "Or you better tell me you're lying." "No, my lord, I have not. My superior told me he fought that fellow himself, and remembered him as Thrall in the gladiatorial ring." "I'll cut off your officer's tongue, he dares to speak such nonsense." Blackmoore growled. "Eras, my lord, you must dig six feet to cut out his tongue," said the herald. "He died an hour after the fight." It took Blackmoore a moment to recover from the new news, and he sat back heavily in his chair, trying to gather his thoughts.A drink right away might help, but he knew he'd already had too much in public.He's already heard whispers: Drunk... who's in command here now... No.He licked his lips.I'm Edras?Blackmoore, lord of Dunholde, master of the camp... I trained that green-skinned, black-blooded monster, I should have thought it through more than he did... In the name of the Light, just have another drink to keep your hands from shaking ... A strange feeling rose in my heart, as if something I was proud of had been stolen.He has always affirmed Thrall's potential.He knew there was something special about Thrall, not just ordinary orcs.If Thrall had not abandoned the opportunity Blackmoore had given him, they could now lead the charge against the Alliance, with Blackmoore riding ahead of a group of loyal orcs who did his bidding.Stupid, stupid Thrall.Blackmoore recalled at once the last beating he had given Usar.Maybe that's a little too much. But he couldn't allow himself to feel guilty, as it should be with disobedient slaves.Thrall turned his back on the groaning, stinking, worthless thugs.Let him rot where he fell. Turning his attention back to the trembling herald in front of him, Blackmoore managed a grin.The man relaxed and smiled back tentatively.With trembling hands, Blackmore picked up a quill, dipped it in the ink, and began to write.He waited for the ink to dry, then carefully folded the letter in thirds, dripped hot sealing wax, and stamped his own seal. He handed the letter to the herald and said, "Take this to your officer. Then take good care of your neck, young man." The herald obviously didn't quite believe his good luck. He bowed deeply and hurried out in case Blackmoore changed his mind again.Blackmoore picked up the bottle by himself, uncorked it, and took a few swigs.When he took the bottle from his lips, a few drops spilled on his black top.Blackmoore rubbed off the smudge unhappily, as he had done before. "Tamis!" he yelled.The door flew open instantly, and his servant poked his head out. "Yes, my lord?" "Go and get Langton," he said with a smile. "I have a task for him to complete."