The camp of Stonard, throbs with the beat of war drums.
It's walls now sticking out from the muck and grime surrounding it with their new shade, bone-white. Countless skulls, from animals, and humanoid races alike, cover the mossy wooden spikes of Stonard's outer protection.
However inside, was a far more brutal sight to behold.
Xandru Revantusk peers out over the rows before him. All manner of race, and creed, and course, he gathers them in, breaking formation, so that they might hear him speak. "Now, we begin..." The troll paces about as he speaks, his rough voice carrying out over the clang of swords and daggers from the training grounds beyond the walls, and the ever present heartbeat of the swamp,"we aim our sights for Orgrimmar... We ain't left dis' swamp aimed for war in many moons... we must be ready..."
The Warchief, as the Troll has taken as his title, stops pacing, his bloodshot eye twitching as the blood beneath his skin boils, "Scouting parties goin' out into de' surroundin' areas..." He continues, "I sent for a Bilge-rat to bring a party into de' North, e' ain't de' most well behaved, but e' ain't a princess neitha'. You follow 'im an' you'll be back in one piece." The Clan nods in agreement, and Xandru continues, "Garmak, take a group out toward de' Orchish hold in de' Blasted Land. See what dey' know, hear what dey' hear."
The Orc inclines his head, and from out of it's staff comes a soul-shivering voice stating it's understanding.
Xandru nods, and points at Cherno, a Goblin raised from the grave by The Lich King himself, and Boss of Grots, "The rat will meet you out in de' swamp, stay to de' road an' e' will find you."
Cherno looks around, his duty as Boss Grot was here in the Swamp, not out scouting foreign lands. The troll motions for the crowd to disperse back to their jobs, those selected by Garmak, Sythegar and Fel-Council of the Clan travel south, out into the swamp toward the hills walling in The Blasted Lands.
Xandru moves to Cherno and says, "You, go wit' dem'. I need you keepin' do'se Grots in line."
"Yes, boss." Said Cherno, saluting Xandru with respect.
Outside of Stonard within the Black Morass, stands a small Goblin, not smaller than most Goblins but small jus
t the same, sharpening his daggers on a whetstone. His hair pulled back into a ponytail, he drags the whetstone deftly across the edge of the blade. A small group of Grots nearby dig their holes, barehanded and nearly naked; While another group fights, throwing each other into the mud, and taking turns kicking and biting. A short time later the Goblin sees a row of riders leave the eastern gate, heading for his position.
Out from the gate rides Cherno, and the group of Grots he selected to take out to meet the Goblin. As they reach the Grot-holes, Cherno calls them to halt, he dismounts beside the Goblin and sniffs the air.
The Goblin blinks at Cherno, as the rest of his passes and surrounds him, "You the Grinz?"
"I serve them, yeah." Cherno says, as he motions for the Grots to surround him.
"Small world," says the Goblin, dropping the whetstone into an opened leather pouch fastened to his belt, "I do too."
"I ain't seen you before, guy. You a grot?"
The Goblin looks up at Cherno, and smiles "The Bilgewater Rats sent me out, name's Cogrini."
"Oh. Bilgewater."
"My boss owes your boss a favor... you know how it is."
"Yeah. Things happen like that. Why are you outside of Stonard. Shouldn't you be...in it? Talking things over with the Bossman?"
Cogrini shakes his head, no. "Nah, I'm here to lead youz guyz through the hills past your swamp... you know, all quiet like." Cogrini pretends to sneak in place.
"Lead us? Where?" Cherno says with a slight tilt of his head.
"Your boss don't want no humiez knowin' we gonna move the troops up north through Redridge, see?"
"Thats' smart. We don't need to fight two wars." Cherno agrees,
"So it's our job to stake it out. Come on!" The Goblin pulls the reins of a raptor so green it seemed to blend into the trees, and startling a few Grots in the process jumps onto it's back. "Vamanos!" Cogrini kicks his heels into the raptors hide, and sets forward, past Cherno and his Grot guards.
"You know," Cherno calls up to Cogrini, "The Bossman chooses to have his HQ in the Swamp of Sorrows. I can tell you right now, guy, head any direction north and west, you gonna find humans."
"Not the way I'm goin'." Cogrini calls back. The Goblin leads Cherno and the guard through The Bloodmire. It's land still erupting in war, Humans and Orcs, as if the Dragon never awoke and the true Lich King still sat on the throne, they fought, never ceasing. With Cogrini at the lead they rode through the destruction undetected.
Half way across the field of battle a stray arrow clangs off of a Grot's breastplate, bouncing up and hitting a fellow rider between her breastplate and her helm, sending a gush of blood out from between the polished metal. As she fell from her Kodo, Cherno pounds his fists together and shouts, "Let's get this bastard!" They charge up the nearby hill the archers shot from and laid waste to them. Some humans falling to random slices and stabs from the Grin's guard's swords, and some falling from the already warring Orchish Clans.
"Ride on!" Cogrini shouts, "They know not our plans!" And so north they rode, Cogrini, Cherno, and the group of a dozen Grots. Up past a river-tribe of Lost Ones, old and frail, forgotten by their own people. And the Goblin town of Bogpaddle, just past it's outer wall they slow their pace, so as not to disturb the guards and alert them to their presence.
"Bogpaddle," says Cherno.
Cogrini turns to him, as they move further to a safe distance from the town. "Know the place?"
"Yeah, Its been a while, to say the least. I don't exactly fit in with the common folk there, as you can imagine."
"Well we ain't got time for your lady friends tonight, your little green lasses can wait!"
"You're funny." Cherno looks back to the Goblin, away from the town, "Lead on."
The Goblin nods, and inspires his raptor to a trot, and they head further north almost out to the sea. After some time, they come to a small path hidden against the jagged cliffs of the mountains keeping the swamp from spreading north into Redridge, "Here." He points, "Here's where we enter. Any one of you schmucks bring binoculars?" Cogrini looks around at the Grin surrounding him.
"I didn't," says Cherno with a slight shrug.
"No problem, just means we're gonna get..." The goblin chuckles, "personal."
"Jus' go up there," Cherno points up the trail, "If some Alliance punk stops you, jus' tell them you're from Bogpaddle!"
Cogrini turns shaking his head, and heads north riding up the path into the Redridge Mountains. By the time they clear the first peak the pass it's mid-day. They had left with the moon still high in the sky and now they stand, high up, looking into Human lands.
"I think the Bosschief means to march us through those Burning Steppes..."
From the mountain pass, the realm of Redridge appeared clear, and cool, and peaceful. Their sight clear almost all the way down to the town of Lakeshire itself."I ain't here to march troops, I'm here to get the details," Cogrini says, "If this place is between A and B, then we needa' know what kinda thing it is."
"I don't know where "B" even is," says Cherno, "The Bosschief ain't told us."
"That ain't my department," Cogrini says, holding up his hands. The Goblin pulls a roll of rope up off a hook attached to his saddlebag, "Tie this to that stump over there, we needa' get down there," Cogrini tosses Cherno the rope.
Cherno grumbles slightly.
"Come on green-skin, make yourself useful!"
"You don't wanna see me be useful," Cherno says, with a threatening tone.
Cogrini holds his hand to his forehead and squints out over the valley below, he seemed to take no merit in Cherno's threat, as he waits for him to finish tying the knot, "Trust me, I only need those that are of use, I ONLY want to see you useful." He takes the rope out of Cherno's grasp and walks to the edge of the cliff, "Follow close. Leave the Worgs." Cogrini jumps out over the gap, and vanishes.
Cherno grumbles some more and walks to the cliff, he lets out a hacking cough and follows.
Down below, Cogrini is waiting, "Two more cliffs and my hands will be thankin' me!" Cogrini ties a second bundle of rope the the end of the first, and continues to rappel down the cliffside. Just before the final drop he stops, and looks toward the nearest structure in the distance, "Galardell Valley they call this. For the night, we need to scout it. Then send word back of what we've found."
"I can smell Gnolls," says Cherno to himself, as the wind blows up out of the valley, "I hope the other grots can handle them.
Cogrini still talking to the group, "An' when THOSE crows return, we can move forward, but not before!" Cogrini turns to Cherno, "Your Grots will try, or we will all die before the first feather flies." He looks back to the group at large, "We mean to make as little noise as possible, see? Follow close. And slay silent, but ONLY if it's a must." Cogrini looks at all of their faces, "Let's move." He swings out over the last fall, with rope in hand.
"I'm too old to be rappelling off cliffs," Cherno activates his rocket boots.
"Yer' Undead," Cogrini says, hand over hand as he moves down the rops, "What do you have to be worrie--" Cogrini pauses as Cherno flies out over the gap, the blasts of the rocket boosting him toward the ground below! "Da's one way to do it." After the final Grot gets both feet safely on the ground they set back in motion, this time in a looser formation, slipping between trees and bushes, staying low to the ground and, silent as death. About 100 yards from the tower they stop, Cogrini motions them down toward a bush he was peeking through. "Gnolls..." he says, looking at Cherno, "You were right," he points. Out by the tower and all around it were Gnolls. Shadowhide by the look, Warriors, Darkweavers, Brutes and other mannersof evil. "We have no quarrel with the Gnolls of this land... If they wish to keep the Tower of Ilgalar, let them. Let us skirt their lands..." Cogrini motions for the pack to keep moving north.
Cherno nods in agreement and whispers, "Tenacity. Respect. Power" and follows the Goblin past the Tower of Ilgalar, when suddenly the Goblin screeches to a halt!
"Hold!" Before them 30 yards ahead, behind some bushes were the shadows of two Shadowhide Gnolls, one clear by it's shape, of a Warrior's path, leather armor, axe and shield in hand. Beyond it another, heavier clad and fiercer in appearance, a Brute for sure. "We must take these two.." he turns, "I see no other choice.. Anyway, better dead than alive." He grins wickedly.
"If you say so, guy." Cherno agrees, and motions for the archers to ready their arrows, Cogrini nods, and whiz is heard through the air. Moments later, as the Gnoll's lifeblood drains deep into the dirt, the group pushes on north past a cave full of hostility, and then west, toward a well-known passage leading north from the Human lake-town of Lakeshire. Only two more Gnolls needed slaying to protect some smaller Grots from harm.
"Hold!" This time, Cogrini's voice was less sure of what he saw, "To the trees!" Cogrini screams through his teeth!" Out in the distance, along the northern road, lining it path on either side were dozens of spikes, each swarming with flies, and each sticky with blood. Atop each spike, an Orc. "That's it! We send word now!" Cogrini motions for the Grots to open the small cages they were given at back in Stonard, and tied to their hips, each cage holding a fledgling crow. "Send word! Let the Grinz know, we have trouble here!"
"What was you expectin' Mr. Tour Guide? These Alliance deal with Blackrock all day," Cherno queries the smaller Goblin.
"Didn't you know Mr. Boss Grot Man? Your Chief means to rally these Orcs! All of the Orcs!"
"The Blackrock work for the True Horde."
"An' so do we!" With Cogrini's last word, the Grots released the crows, each flying in a different direction. Each letter, in a different script. From there the guard stayed, until the crows returned.
To be continued...