For weeks now, the sound of hammer, nail, and iron have rung out ceaselessly from inside the walls of Stonard. Grunts, hammering out dents from their plate, and reforging rings to fit their mail. Grots, brawling and grappling in the mud for the one shovel in camp, their only chance to lessen their labor. And now also, a new presence of Goblins wanders the camp, The Bilgewater Rats, have settled here, sneering and jabbing at Grots from the darker corners of the camp.

However, outside the walls, another sound will soon be heard.

Malifika slows her pace as he approaches the gate, she dismounts from astride her black worg and tosses the reins to a nearby guard, saluting him as she passes.

For two moons the camp has been ablaze with torchlight, forge-light, and open flame, it's pyres burning well into the night and through until the first light of dawn.

Malifika shoos Spineleaper away, "Be gone pest!"

Outside the camp, the brightest flame of all draws in those who have been summoned to it's side.

Rôdeurdesboi cheers, "And we made it! Also... we aren't last!" He flexes his muscles. BabeRoof, Rôdeurdesboi's pet grumbles at him as he lays down beside the fire.

Malifika growls menacingly at Rôdeurdesboi, as he starts smoking from a nearby hookah, oblivious of her distaste. Malifika mutters, "Babe, can't you do something about him?"

Rôdeurdesboi's pet sighs and barks at his master!

"Hey? Come on now... since when is smoking a crime!" Rôdeurdesboi laughs at BabeRoof.

Here, outside the walls the great fire burns, it's light brighter than any around, the flame glowing a sickly green. Fel runes, and dark incantations line the logs that are piled within, causing the flame to glow the most unnatural green, and it's wood to crackle and sparks with purple and gold. Circled around it, members of the Blacktooth Grin, summoned by their Warchief.

"Grin." The Troll says, softly at first.

Rôdeurdesboi nods at him.

Malifika steps closer to the flame with a wicked grin, holding her hands as if to warm them.

"Grin," the Troll starts again a more and more gather into his view.

BabeRoof lies comfortably by the fireside while Rode smokes the hookah pipe and listens.

"De' time comes soon... as de' new moon plans to rise..." his voice trails off, his pupil seeming to dance and glow in the green fire's light. "We will leave dis' place... some... never to return."

Just outside the circle, Toadwart cautiously creeps close. His eyes darting around looking for scary stuff outside the safety of the walls.

"Before we march, we will feast. But before we feast... we must return our minds to de' Grin of old."

Malifika rubs her hands together, contemplating leaving Stonard behind yet again.

"In de' sky, lives a place..." Xandru continues, pointing effortlessly upward, "A place known to many, yet lived only by a few." He closes his eye, "Dis' place was beautiful... yet perilous..."

A few Grots bump and shove, to gain a place near the flame.

"Great beasts would roam de' land, one single eye, yet wit' de' strength of many... many Orcs."

"Well if it smells better then here, I'll believe ya!" Rôdeurdesboi laughs and coughs a bit before huffing some more from the pipe.

Babe stares at his master to remain quiet as Toadwart sits close by, hoping the hound will bark at the first sign of danger.

A sly grin creeps across the troll's lips as he continues, "De' smells were quite pleasant. An' de' seasons would come an' go.. time would pass in an' out in peace... an' harmony..."

Malifika settles down close to the fire, the flames dancing in her eyes as she listens.

"An' de' spirits were pleased."

Babe licks Toad! Noticing the Goblin beside him.

A log inscribed with Fel runes cracks and explodes, sending golden sparks dancing at the feet at those too close to the great flame. Purple smoke lifts gently from inside the splintered log, twisting into a horrible visage before dispersing into the thick swamp air.

Toadwart giggles and whispers to Babe, "I like story time". He then fishes around in his hat for a marshmallow to put on a stick.

"However," Xandru continues,"Not all spirits are fair. An' dose' who are not, are more difficult to please..." Xandru removes a small pouch from the stone seat beside him, unties the string binding it shut, and pours the contents into his palm. "Dese' spirits were kept out of dat' world for a time, yet... all evil 'tings will eventually find a way." Xandru grins, and swings his hand up and out over the fire, sending a dark red powder out from his now opened hand.

The flame roars! It's green flame flashing a violent yellow briefly, and then smoke, of a deep, deep black pours out from the light. Swirling with the heat of the flame, the blackness twists itself into a the malevolent vision of a demon."De' legion of flame found der' way into dat' world... tearin' it apart!"

Malifika turns her face slightly from the roaring flames, clearly drawn to the power behind them.

Babe whimpers.

"Ahhhhhh!" yells Toadwart, startled by the sudden event accidentally flinging a marshmallow out into the swamp. He then looks down at his crotch, and blushes covering it with his hands.

"But dat' is only what dey' tell de' chil'dren," Xandru remarks. He looks away from the smoke, that had now blended into the surrounding swamp air, and around those gathered around him, looking for a face. Xandru's eye stops as it finds an Orc among those encircled around the fire, "You. Your ancestors... of which tribe are dey' come from?"

The Orc stands, and salutes the Warchief and his officers.

Xandru nods, and lifts his lip with a soft growl, up above his gum-line exposing an empty cavity, where a sizable tooth once took root.

The Orc mirrors him, showing an empty space before speaking, "Blackrock."

"Yes, yes... Now what do' dey' teach dem' Orcs in Orgrimmar, Grunt?"

The Orc's throat begins to rumble as Xandru mentions the city.

Rôdeurdesboi puffs out some smoke and looks at the Orc.

"They say da' Frostwolf, an' da' Doomhammers were heroes!" The Orc roars, pounding his fist into his palm!

"Yes! Dey' say dem' betrayers was heroes an' kings!" Xandru roars in reply, " Dem'! Sittin' upon skull-thrones of Orc-kind!"

"Liars and deceivers!" shout a pair of wily Orc Grots!

"We know de' truth don't we?!" Xandru roars! "We know de' fite of de' true Orcs! De' true Horde! De' Dark Horde!" He continues,"We don' call dem' Human city, Stormwind do we?!" He doesn't wait for a reply, "NO! DAT' CITY BE NEW STORMWIND! DE' ORCS BROUGHT DAT' CITY TO IT'S KNEES!" He stands,"ORCISH HANDS DID' DAT WORK! BLACKROCK HANDS!" Xandru roars with bestial vigor!

Babe howls!

The Troll continues, "After dat' backstabba' killed de' true Warchief what did dey' Frostwolf do eh?" He looks around the fire,"Dey' as good as surrendered to dem' Humans!"

Toadwart boos!

Xandru sits back down beside his stone seat, "..Weak, pitiful Frostwolves... useless beasts beside, only good for meat an' fur... an' der' tribe is worth now even less. Give me two Frostwolf for a Blackrock anyday." he says, as the Blackrock Grunt roars with pride. "Your people drank de' blood of de' hell-spawn.. you a' connected to dem'... as we all are..." Xandru's voice softens slightly as his finger traces the orcish rune carved deep into his cheek. He looks up, "I mean to rekindle dis' flame... De' blood-curse must be renewed."

Rôdeurdesboi coughs out a lung of smoke and taps his chest, "Huh... demons... again?"

Toadwart stammers out, "DDDDemons....?" His face more worried than usual

Cherno coughs as the wind shifts the smoke into his direction.

Xandru: "We must seek out a great Warlock, an' bring one of their hell-spawn into our plane. Let us mirror de' actions of dose' who come before us. Learn from der' mistakes, and from der' failures."

Cherno lets out a hacking cough again.

Xandru looks out through the flame at the group around him, "Who here still sings de' tales of De' Smashblade?"

"Well," starts Rôdeurdesboi, "That monk Orc guy keep mentioning his name during our fire circle... huh... something about an orphanage... and the peace-chief?"

Malifika's voice answers as well, "I remember Smashblade well. Some say he still roams the forests near Darkshire."

"Is he the Orc that found the chickens nuggets? Those are yummy. I still can't find them!" explains, Toadwart.

"You all know some tales it seems..." Xandru narrows his eye on Toadwart, but continues, "Yet none have spoken of his great triumph. After de' third war, de' one we known as Smashblade found himself without enemies. A hardened Grunt of the Horde, he found himself serving the peace-chief. Yet unlike de' true Horde, dis' one was not forged in war and battle, but peace and compassion."

A few nearby Orcs shove one another to find a closer place to the fire.

"Orders came from Thrall, the peace-chief wished to build!"

Narzhalar stares off into the distance.

"His troops craving battle, yet he hands them a screw and a nail, and tells dem' to settle down. Most Orcs complied, but De' Smashblade... De' Smashblade, e' knew better. A city is de' work of Humans, an' no place for a true Orc warrior! De' Smashblade e' took de' order from Thrall, an' went to de' building e' was meant to complete... AN' BURNED IT TO DE' GROUND!" Xandru roared, throwing his fist into the air! "A true sign of protest to the submissive peace-chief! De' Smashblade lef' dat' place, an' came here... he meant to rally de' Blackrock left by our brother-in-arms Rend Blackhand, when e' fled to exile within' de' great mountain of Blackrock."

"A brother, and a coward," muttered a nearby Grunt.

"Smashblade succeeded, an' not only rounded up his Orcish brothers, but de' Trolls, an' Tauren, an' all de' other races under dis' 'ere sky. An' he lead us to many great victories..."

"Many great stories," said one shadowed face.

"An' many legends..." finished Xandru, "In dis' fashion I make to lead us, to victory... OR TO DEATH!" The Troll roared once again, standing up shouting the Orcish words many have dreaded to hear, "THOK MOK THOK! FEAR DA' GRIN!"

The crowd erupts in war-cries, the Orcish words clearing all manner of flying beast from the trees above, echoing out into the deep swamp.

BabeRoof barks, "WUFF RAG SNARL!"

"So. We're going to burn things?" Malifika says, eyebrow raised. She runs her fingers through the Sha-ling and grins wickedly.

"Oh yes..." a sickening smile spreads across Xandru's face, "We gonna' burn dem' indeed... Our scouts returned dis' morn', an' our feast will soon begin. When de' last bite is taken, we ride!"

Malifika cheers!

Babe wags his tail and the mention of food!

Malifika, and those around salutes him with respect.

"Now if ya' don't mind, I take my leave... You a' dismissed." The Troll stands and salutes his gathering of troops, pulls a dagger from a sheath at his hip and with a final bow and walks away from the light, out into the darkness of the Swamp of Sorrows.