//------------------------------// // Chapter 1: A Journey's Birth // Story: The Fate of The Warchief // by The Blessed One //------------------------------// "AAAAAHHHH!" A now conscious Garrosh yelled out as he felt the distinct feeling of falling. With a large thump, he landed in something that felt like cool sand, letting out a groan as he opened his eyes. A full moon and a sky full of stars greeted him. Slowly but surely, he got to his feet which he then found to be barren of his boots. He instinctively looked himself over and noted a few more things: His legs no longer wore pants, his shoulders were not bearing the tusks of Mannoroth, and Gorehowl was no where to be seen. In short, to say that he was angry would have been an understatement punishable by death. "Curse that damned harlot of a shaman!" He had.....Nothing, not even his undergarments, he roared at the darkness as his rage saw no enemy for him to tear to shreds. After taking some considerable time to calm himself, remembering what the Greatmother had said, he at last took in his surroundings. Desert, desert, and more desert, He could see a host of rocks and cacti all around him. He could have sworn he was back in Durotar. He licked his finger and found that the wind was blowing to the West. "That's the direction the wind was blowing when the siege began," He deduced. "so if it hasn't changed....." He turned on the spot and began heading where he thought North was, were Orgrimmar Should be. Sand, rock, cactus, dunes, and a large formation of fiery red crag to his east were all that Garrosh saw. He continued walking and walking for what he knew had been miles while his stomach growled like a beast as he marched on. At a certain point, his stomach ached for almost anything, so his belly was somewhat sated when he found a foot-long scorpid. The smallish creature tried to sting him as he clutched it, but it could not hope to pierce his thick brown skin. After the unfortunate scorpid's failed attempts, Garrosh casually ripped its tall off and ravenously devoured the rest of it. With his hunger staved off very temporarily, he marched onward towards where Orgrimmar should be. As he continued said trek, he let his mind wander to all the things that had thus far happened, from his showdown with Thrall and his lapdogs, to what the Greatmother had said to him. "What did she even mean by a new journey?" He spoke aloud (He often talked to himself). Though an odd and unhealthy habit, he never ardently bothered changing it; old habits died harder than a lot of his foes, so he just kept going. "How did anything she said to me make any sense?" His frustration flared more and more the longer he thought about it, but he still kept thinking. "Why didn't she stay longer to tell me?! She said she would see me again, so why not now?!" He hated her for leaving him on such a confusing and cryptic note, but on the same token, there was no one he wanted to see more right now. He roared out in frustration once again, before giving a resigned sigh for the single purpose of calming himself. "Bah! It matters not, I have a city to retake! Powers to reclaim! And a shaman to destroy!" He bellowed, then, finally deciding that he'd thought quite long enough, he refocused his vision on his path as he walked through the desert. Walking, marching, trudging, cutting his way though the terrain, he used his eyes as he went. He was just about convinced that there was nothing to see at all in that desert wasteland when he caught sight of several strange dark clumps dotting the horizon. After a few moments, he took a closer look to see a herd of buffalo very far off to the west. " Funny, I don't remember buffalo ever being in Durotar." He though to himself. His curiosity was obvious, but he didn't want to stray from the North path for fear of missing Orgrimmar entirely. Part of him wished the sun would just hurry up and rise to reveal and illuminate his way, the other part reminded him scornfully that when it did, this place would get hellishly hotter. The temperature was not at all unpleasant as it was, so he settled for telling his mind to become silent and just tried to focus on traversing the unfamiliar land. He was never one for boring tasks, and this was by far very boring. But nonetheless, he persevered, for what else could he possibly have done? After hours of trudging and protest on his legs' part, he was finally greeted with something different. At long last, the morning had arrived; the sun had finally risen, but the ball of light didn't just rise, it jumped into the sky! He had never seen the moon sink, and the sun take its place so quickly! At that point, he was sure he was hallucinating; that could not have just happened, could it? It didn't matter; he was getting increasingly thirsty, but he kept up his pace, much to his feet's disdain, for many more hours. Garrosh's feet ached, his stomach screamed in starvation and parched thirst, his leg muscles raged from being torn so, and his shoulders, back, and head were seared from the heat of the blasted sun. All in all, just another day for a soldier of The Horde. His days of doing nothing but sitting in Grommash Hold had made him a bit sensitive, so he made a mental note to get out and train with his Kor'kron a lot more often upon his return and reconquest. On the other hand, he noted that the sun was not its hottest that day (Otherwise it would have been excruciating). He counted that as a blessing, for he new how hot the desert could become under the rays of a Kalimdor sun. Content in the knowledge that he had it going relatively well, he began thinking of something he could do to shorten this trip of his. He had overheard Horde grunts and peons singing to make their work easier in his earlier days as Warchief. So without further thought on the matter, he conspired to sing. He only knew a few songs; most of them were just orcish drum beats, but he'd lost the ability to care awhile back, so he began humming. As he marched through the desolate territory that by then he had decided was not Durotar, his music eventually came to an end. "Curse that infernal rune stone and its maker." He grumbled with a groan of fatigue and weariness as he continued trudging. He was just about to renew his efforts and persist in his music-makings when he was cut short by something. Glancing upward to the North, he saw in the distance what he thought was a flock of geese. They were flying in a "V" formation, but he soon realized that they were moving far too fast to be geese. At that rate they would be over him in a matter of seconds! Mentally face-palming himself for even thinking that any type of goose could regularly inhabit this kind of terrain, he frantically looked around for a place to hide, not out of fear but out of the fact that he didn't even know what they were. For all he knew, they could've been Alliance gryphon riders, or very fast birds; this was all topped by the fact that he did not wish to lose all honor by being witnessed in the nude, he concluded hiding to be the best remedy for all plights concerned. After several agonizingly suspenseful moments, his searching finally yielded something he could use: A few crag stones jutting out of the slope to his right, providing the perfect hiding place from creatures that could fly, even for an orc his size. With out any hesitation whatsoever, he leaped under them and lay in wait. Garrosh knew he should just wait it out and stay motionless until he no longer heard, saw, or smelled tale of any of them, but his building curiosity slowly reached the point of overtaking him. He was just about to scoot out from under his refuge when he heard a sound akin to that of a zeppelin fighter! He reflexively darted right back to where he was, seeing as how his question had been answered. The question that they were Alliance gryphon riders was also answered when one of the entities landed on a rock a little ways away from his position; the creature was like nothing Garrosh had ever seen before! It appeared to be a small, dark blue horse, but not like the horses that Stormwind's cavalry utilized. No, It was much smaller, shorter, and it looked more......pudgy? It was also donning an odd purple and black jump suit accented by yellow lightning embroideries, not something you would see everyday on a horse at all, but the oddest thing about this one, apart from the obvious fact that it had wings protruding from the top of its barrel as the rest of the flock did, was the electricity that was flowing in pulsating waves through its hair and even its tail! It was jerking its head very frantically; it was surely looking for something, or someone. "It couldn't be looking for me, could it? No, I haven't done anything to attract attention; I was just walking through the desert." His worryings were interrupted when he heard a loud female voice yell something. Though he didn't quite catch what the voice said, almost immediately after hearing it, the strange plushy horse took flight and sped off. He sat down and waited a little longer to make absolutely certain they had left, keeping as still and as quiet as possible. Soon thereafter, he stopped hearing the wing beats they were making overhead, so he crawled out from under his improvised lair. He could just barely see them flying away very far off to the North. Seeing no other prudent option, he followed them on the resumed path North in hopes of discovering the inevitable settlement from which they undoubtedly flew out. Not even a full minute after he got back on his previous course and finished treading up a shallow hill, he at long last caught sight of a village just roughly one mile down the decline he'd just reached. It was a well-timed find too, for the sun was just starting its unusually swift decent. "Thank the Ancestors!" He praised triumphantly as he broke into a staggered sprint for the settlement, his legs having found new energy as his hope hit its peak. Only when he was but a few feet away from the edge of the village did his worst nightmare come true: It was filled with more of those damned flying horse creatures, many more. He ran up to the back of the nearest building he saw, and peaked cautiously around the corner of it. "They're all over the place! Why?! What even are they!? What kind of civilization is this?!" His vexed mind cried. He knew not, nor could he boggle his mind any further at the time; he was dehydrated, starving, and most importantly, barren. Even if the whole town turned on him he would solve these three plights. Garrosh began to walk out from behind the building when a still, small whisper stopped him cold. "Patience...." He heard the soft voice clearly say. "Greatmother?" He whispered as he looked around. Though he found himself to be physically alone, he knew it was her voice, and he would listen to her this time. Garrosh was a tough fighter, so he didn't need food or water just yet. He would wait just a bit until nightfall which, judging by the sun, was roughly in just one more hour. Without further contemplation, he returned to the safety of the building's back to wait for the moon's relieving light. The Previous Night Boredom, pure unadulterated boredom, this was all Blueball Blitz was feeling. It was all she had been feeling for weeks now! She lay upon her bed belly-up and playing with her trusty hoof blades, for it was all she could do with them then; she was starting to think that they'd lost all purpose or meaning after such a long time of doing nothing with them. Nightshade and the gang hadn't been commissioned to do anything in what felt to her like years! She rolled over onto her stomach, burying her face in her bunk pillow before letting loose a dreadfully mal-contented moan. She was so sick to death of doing NOTHING! Little did she or anypony else in the barracks know that that very night, luck had finally decided to shine on her. Knocking was heard on the door at the end of their barracks. Blitz didn't even let anypony in the room blink before she was at the door chiming "It's open! It's open!" in her certifiably happy, childish voice. She stood hopping in place for what she would call "forever," her tiny frame bouncing impatiently, her tail wagging in anticipation like a dog's, and a rather larger-than-life smile glued to her face. After what was three seconds to the rest of the world, but three years for her, the door finally opened to reveal a common, run-of-the-mill thestral Lunar guard, bat ponies as they were informally called. She didn't even give an inkling of thought to what he was or who he was; all she wanted desperately to know was why he was there. What was he about to say? Did he have a mission? A quest? A favor? Did he want to ask one of them out? What in Equestria did he need?! After another "three years" he spoke hushedly. "Her highness, Princess Luna, requests your presence, meet her in the night court chamber immediately." That was all he said before taking his leave, that was all he had to say to Blueball to get her to leap into the air screaming "Yes!" at the top of her lungs. "Shuddup, will ya?!" A rebellious manehatten accent sounded suddenly. "You're gonna wake the whole stinkin' castle." A half-asleep Charger groaned from a top bunk, but she didn't even hear him. Blitz was in her flight suit and ready to go in five seconds flat. she then started nagging on the rest of her team to hurry up, starting with Charger. She flew up to the bunk and proceeded to hop up and down on it. "Wake up! wake up! wake up! we got a job!" She half -wined and half-yelled, nudging up him clean off the bed with her muzzle. Too groggy to think of using his wings, he landed on the floor with a lifeless thud, and an irritated grunt. "Blue, calm down," Spoke a low Trottingham accent from across the room. "I know this is the first work we've had in.... How long has it been?" Stratus asked in his usual calm, quiet and gruff voice, continuing to try and think of when they'd last been commissioned while he went about readying himself for a mission. "We haven't worked since we got here, Strat." Lulled a voice as smooth as silk. Blitz knew who it was, for The voice of Starry Skies was unmistakable. Starry rolled out of her bed gracefully and started for the room's mirror to touch up her mane and don her uniform. "We had that one escort mission a few weeks ago, remember?" Stratus answered. "Star," as Blueball called her, very quickly gave a reply. "That was not work, we were stuck babysitting the dumbest, most dry and dull egghead on the planet." She spat, recoiling at the mere memory. Blitz remembered that job all too vividly. Luna had ordered them to guard "sunbutt's" favorite little toy as she went to procure a dusty old tome from the old castle of Everfree Forest; it was more of a practice mission for them than anything else. The Wonderbolts were originally meant to do it, even though it was a night mission, so it took Luna forever to convince Celestia to accept the Shadowbolts' assistance. The mission itself was something none of them wanted to remember, nor ever do again. "Come on! it wasn't all dat bad, ya cry babies." Charger scorned, having finally pried his face off the floor just in time to hear Starry Skies respond knowingly. "You know you don't mean that, Charger. Remember when you tried hitting on her?" She asked condescendingly to which he responded almost instantly. "Yeah I know; I just said it for the sake of argument, and to answer your question: Yeah, sadly I do remember." He heard various giggles around the room as he paused to give a small shudder before continuing with an astounded chuckle. "Dat dame was dry as Tartarus, and to think, dat almost worked." It was then that another voice spoke up from the desk in the darkest corner of the room. "It was the task at hand, and now we have another; so I'd stop bickering and just get ready." said the dark voice nopony on the team liked to question. Nightshade, even the name made some hot under the helmet. Not Blitz though, she had yet to lose a fight with anypony, even Nightshade (Not that she didn't come extremely close sometimes.) Blitz was a killing machine, a pony none could fight, and she damn well knew it! She just preferred to do things that she found fun; fighting was on that list, but she only wanted to fight. Blitz never meant to seriously hurt them. That didn't mean she didn't, but she didn't mean to do it! It wasn't her fault most ponies were made out of cotton candy. Her conflicted inward thoughts were suddenly invaded when Stratus poked her. "Hey, you fall asleep on us?" He jested lightly. Blitz quickly shook her head and responded. "Nope! just got lost in my head again!" She half-yelled again, still itching with excitement as a geared up Nightshade struck up again. "Let's get moving team, we could have a long night ahead of us." Nightshade said before taking flight. The rest of her team followed closely in formation, wondering what fate had in store for them this night. Garrosh had decided to take a nap until the moon came up, at the very least to both rest his weary legs and stave off the hunger and thirst. Now that the silver sphere was indeed up, he looked around the building to see that the streets were empty. "Perfect!" he thought with relief. "Now to get the items required." He had seen what he thought to be a multi-purpose tavern through an ally way a small ways away, so he made a brake for it while keeping his head on a swivel. Once there, he saw the building he was targeting had a big sign with a giant salt shaker plastered on it. Though he couldn't for the life of him figure out why an establishment meant to serve drinks would choose such antonymous symbol, he knew it was a tavern, for nothing else in a place like this would have a second story, or a door way with such an odd public entrance. Upon thought of entry, he realized something else: The door to this building was far too damned small for him! Of course these strange equine creatures would build their doors to accommodate their short stature! Facing a new problem entirely, he forced his fingers through the wall to get a firm hold of the wood edge around the one of the two large windows the establishment had, and pulled towards himself. Crunch! He ripped the window out miraculously without shattering the glass and placed it against the wall; pushing the brown curtain that was hanging inside the room aside and squeezing through, he successfully entered the tavern. Looking around the thankfully vacant room for a moment, he let out a legendary mental groan when he came to yet another problematic realization: Everything here was too damned small for him! Doors, windows, tables, chairs, stools, stairs, everything was meant to fit the size of the small pudgy horses! He nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard a very weird muffled moaning sound coming from up the staircase. "...Best stay down stairs anyway." He whispered to himself. Letting his mind wander to the sounds he was currently hearing, he was able to deduced what was going on upstairs very quickly. Garrosh let a small groan of disgust and distaste escape his mouth as he started to focus on getting the four things an orc needed to survive: Food, drink, clothing and a weapon. He took all the brown table cloths and all the large paisley, brown curtains; clothes and a potential bag: Check. He ran back to the building he had previously slept behind, dropped off all the table cloths and all but one of the paisley curtains, and ran stealthily back to the tavern. Upon his return, the moaning, groaning and grunting from upstairs seemed to have gotten louder, and a subtle but apparent creaking noise had been added to the mix. Ignoring the child that was most likely being conceived above him, he went into the kitchen. Once there, he saw that the stocks in this kitchen had evidently just been refilled; it was all he could eat! Hellscream grabbed four loafs of fresh bread and a whole bushel of apples, he then left again back to his "base of operations." Returning for his third and final heist, the noise, impossibly, was even louder. His stomach did an involuntary flip in his belly and suddenly he was not very hungry anymore. He crept back into the kitchen to look around for some water, or at least anything he could use to collect the water from the trough outside. once he found something he could use (several partially-expandable sacks that looked like they meant to hold water for travel), he took all the sacks his curtain could carry once full of water, namely eight out of the ten that were on the shel..... The noise was gone! He began to look around frantically for the fourth item he needed, a weapon. He searched and searched and searched, but the best all the searching yielded was a wooden club in the form of a log and a kitchen knife. Taking the knife, piece of wood, water sacks, and a spool with a needle still in it that he discovered in one of the many cupboards, he scrambled outside the tavern to quickly fill the water bags. After the arduous and suspenseful task of filling each and every one of them to the brim, he bolted for his base. once making it back to camp, he stole a quick peek back at the tavern. He saw that he was not followed by anything, nor did the horses know the items were gone yet, nor did anyone from another building even see his comings or goings to and from the tavern. Content with a job well done, Garrosh was confident that he would put the things he stole to better use than they would have anyway, so he sat down and drank some of the water. He didn't bother eating anything just yet since those....... noises had robbed him of his appetite, but with his thirst thoroughly quenched, he began his work. In the dark of the night, Garrosh had wholly changed his state of being. Using the worn, brown table cloths and some of the spool, he had constructed a pair of crude long-length shorts. With the brown paisley curtains and more of the spool, he managed to create a type of poncho. With the last of the spool, he reinforced the clothes he had already sewn. His tailoring skills left a lot to be desired due to the fact that he only ever learned them for survival situations, and he did jab his fingers many times while making them (He shed more blood there than when he was battling some enemies), but his clothes were ready and strong. After a small time admiring and testing the work he'd done, and after a slightly longer time of mulling over his pin-cushioned hand, he took to his next project. With the log and knife he had taken, he used the knife to carve a handle into the log to at least make it accessible as a weapon. It looked like the cheapest club you would ever see, but the knife had broken before he could make anything else of the chunk of wood. After making his new armor and weapon, Garrosh then ate two of his sixteen apples and drank one of his eight water sacks, using the busted knife's blade as an effective toothpick. With the last remaining curtain, he was able to construct a bag. Granted he had to look around town for a rope, but he found one after a few short minute, as it was hanging for a wooden railing of one of the creatures' homes. "Bag: Check. Clothes: Check. Weapon: Check. Food and water: Check." He thought with certainty. With his life blood secured, and despite all the questions still looming in his mind, he slowly but surely drifted off to sleep.