Uli clinged to the ground, observing the human village below through the tall grass. It's a chore, at least for him. Like every frostwolf orc, his eyes were accustomed to snow and desolate mountains. But the world outside of Alterac is no longer so monotonous, and the colors here are so numerous that he is often dazzled. Uli had to squint his eyes and concentrate on careful discernment in order to discern the outline of each thing.

It left him tired and frustrated. He doesn't like it here. He also doesn't like to hang out with the orcs of other clans. They're too loud, too rough, too weird, and they don't notice it. Drektar says they were once united, but it sounds as hard to believe as he says Uli was born in a swamp in the South farther away than here. If his eyes had ever seen beyond the snowfield, if the clans had indeed fought side by side, there should always be traces left behind, and some memories to be picked up. But he didn't find anything.

Maybe Sal has found it. It is said that shamans are able to transcend dreams, talk to spirits, and know what happened many winters ago. Perhaps that's why he believes they can be together again. And the clans always follow their chieftains. So Uli and his people walked out of the Alterac Mountains and came here with Sal. When he breaks down the walls of a concentration camp or confronts the stenking humans and the withered skeleton shelves, the Frostwolf Clan stands by his side. When he needs to hunt wild beasts to replenish his increasingly scarce rations, or set traps for humans who are chasing too hard, his relatives are always at the mercy of him.

Now, with more and more orcs freed, Thrall began to disperse them into small groups and hide in many remote places in order to better avoid human tracking. As seasoned hunters, the Frostwolf Clan has once again taken over the scouting duties, and Uli is one of them. He had to find out the range of human movement in the village, whether there were any troops stationed or passing through, and find a suitable place to set up a hidden camp.

It's not that they have to hide from humans to survive. The number of orcs is enough to clash head-on with humans, even those who are healthy and normal. But Thrall strictly forbade it. The last time someone attacked a village, it made him furious. This makes a lot of people unhappy. They whisper in the middle of the night, making malicious speculations and questions.

Only the Frostwolf Clan understands this. The Sons of Durotan are by no means afraid of humanity, as their detractors claim. He had a noble soul and a clear mind, and knew that blind revenge would only bring senseless bloodshed, and that it would be dishonorable to harm civilians. In his mind, he was looking forward to a dignified battle, and that was Dunhold, and only with victory there could Thrall be able to break free from the shackles of the past. As one concentration camp after another was liberated, that moment was getting closer.

But where will they go after that?

A paw stomped on him lightly, pulling Uli back from his musings.

"What's wrong?" He asked, sitting up as he sat up.

Frostfang silently walked up from behind and shoved her head under his arm. The white fur of the male frostwolf stood out among the yellow weeds, and Uli told him to stay behind and wait. If it is not necessary, the frost wolf will not take the initiative to disturb him.

A rustle approached, and then Satana appeared. At the sight of her, Uli wanted to sigh. This Warsong orc was assigned to act with him. He admits that Satana did help, and that without her, Frostfang might have been driven crazy by the plants with tiny thorns that hooked their fur on the first day. But she was still as eccentric as the rest of the clan. With her standing nearby, Uli's complexion, which he thought was normal, would appear whiter. It always reminded him of being an outsider and how far away he was from home.

"Put this on," said Satana, handing him a leather coat, "and your muscles must have froze when you lie on the ground for two hours." ”

"No, I'm not cold." Uli refused.

In fact, he was still a little hot, a thin layer of sweat had soaked through the lining of his fur vest, and he only felt better when the gust of wind blew. He wished he could roll in the snowdrift and feel the knife-like wind blow across his cheeks and soak into his bone marrow again. He had never missed that harsh land so much. It nurtures them, sharpens them, and eventually brings them down. Even so, he still loved her. He could scarcely believe that the Frostwolf Clan had only lived there for a generation.

Satana withdrew her hand: "Well, since you never go to the fire at night. Seriously, do you have ice in your veins? ”

"Perhaps." Uli said. It wasn't cold enough for him to be cold enough that he wouldn't crowd up the fire with the other orcs until the snow reached his knees.

"Frostwolf." Satana shook her head, as if the word explained everything that seemed strange to her.

Frostfang raised his head and glared at her.

"Ha, you little fluffy blanket, don't think I'm going to be scared of you." Satana pointed at it and said, "I won last night." But if you want to try again, I'm always welcome. ”

Frosttooth bared her teeth and accepted the challenge. Uli watched from the sidelines, really not understanding why any orc was keen to go to the wolf game to see who could howl longer, and who would be unhappy if either side lost.

"Battle Song." He muttered, not realizing that he was using the exact same tone as Satana.

At that moment, Frostfang suddenly pricked up her ears and stared at the road. Uli turned his head to look and saw two silhouettes appear on the hillside. After a while, he heard the sound of horses' hooves again.

"Someone's coming." He warned, and the frostwolf, who had a close relationship with him, immediately turned around and ran back into the forest behind him, hiding. Uli also lay down on the ground, covering himself with tall grass.

He noticed that Satana was still standing, and quickly reached out and pushed her ankle hard. Satana rolled into another bush of weeds and whispered, "Those humans won't stray from the road." ”

Uli remained silent. Indeed, few humans now dare to go deep into the wild. The original owners of the land are now hiding in their houses, constantly fearing attacks and looting. He and Satana took turns monitoring the village for four days, and almost no one wanted to step out of the fence. Even if someone had to leave the village, it was in groups and in a hurry. There is no reason for these two to be an exception.

But there is no need to confirm human suspicions. If they were to be seen, the tension in the area would be even more escalating, inconveniencing those who would later set up camp.

Through the grass, he saw the two men. They were wrapped in cloaks, and the handles of their weapons were exposed on their shoulders. These days, Uli has seen many humans travel with weapons, and novices will inevitably hold them tightly in their hands to give them courage, and even then, a gust of wind can startle them. These two people have a relaxed posture and reveal full confidence.

As if sensing his prying eyes, one of them suddenly glanced in Uli's direction. The frostwolf orcs immediately lowered their heads. They kept quiet and hidden, waiting for the two travelers to leave, but the sound of the horses' hooves did not go away, but stopped for a moment down the hillside, and then came towards them.

Ully tensed his nerves. He glanced to the side and motioned for Satana to retreat into the woods. The Warsong orc ignored his gesture and instead fell to his knees, his axe at his waist in his hand.

"What are you doing?" He shouted softly.

With a gloomy expression, Satana stared straight ahead, and replied in a gruff voice, "Someone has to teach them not to wander around in the wilderness." ”

"We can't clash with humans!"

But Satana had already raised her head, her mouth wide open, her fangs bared, and let out a loud battle cry. She then rushed out. Uli was anxious, but he had to follow.

He saw Satana lower her center of gravity and swing her axe at the front leg of the black horse at the head. The rider, however, seemed to have anticipated this, pulled the reins in advance, turned half a circle in her direction, and went around to the other side. A hand raised and threw a lasso around her neck, dragging her forward.

Satana was suddenly dragged to the ground, screaming and struggling desperately, trying to cut the rope with her axe. Uli rushed forward, but another rider met him and stopped him. A warhammer slashed his swinging spear, and the hilt struck him in the jaw. This time it was not heavy, he staggered back, and a white shadow flashed in his afterglow. The frostwolves came to his aid.

The presence of Frostfang made the brown horse nervous, and spontaneously turned to face the wolf, earning him a chance to breathe. Uli stood firm and thrust his spear again, cutting a bleeding wound in the horse's flank. The painful brown horse stood upright, threw the rider off his back, and then rushed forward frantically. Uli rolled to the side, dodging the fate of being knocked into the air.

Without cover, he found that the rider of the brown horse had risen to his feet, and the fall from the mount did not seem to cause any harm. Out of his sight, Satana cursed loudly. Despite not understanding the human language she was using, Uli was relieved that at least she was alive. He leapt to his feet and joined Frostfang in meeting his opponent. The humans gripped the hammer horizontally, calmly blocking the attack of both of them.

They briefly confronted each other for a moment. Frostfang attempted to pounce on the enemy, but the human scurried forward, sending the Frostwolf into the air and getting close to Uli. A blow from the hammer broke the hilt of the spear in his hand, and the handle struck him in the jaw again, knocking him to the ground. The warhammer turned around with the sound of the howling wind, knocking the pounced frostwolves flying. Uli tried to get up, but the heavy metal pressed against his chest, pressing him back to the ground.

He was on his back, dizzy, and breathless. Not far away, someone sarcastically said in fluent orc language, "You really shouldn't be messing around our land, tribe." ”

***

The orcs' current main camp is located in a remote valley, not far from the small lake south of Tarummere. This side of the lakeshore is occupied by fishmen, which discourages humans from coming here to fetch water, and thus serves as an excellent shelter for the tribe.

"But sometimes they can be cranky and I sent a patrol to take turns there." Sal said.

He handed the herbal tea to Dinen and Tirio. The paladin thanked him calmly, and Dinen had to mumble in agreement. The smell of the tea reminded him of the old shaman's medicinal soup, and although he was past the age of hating medicine, he still didn't want to take the initiative to drink it, so he just took a symbolic sip and put the wooden bowl aside.

Now they were sitting in Saar's tent, which, though used as the chief's quarters, was as rudimentary as the other tents and had few things. Two mountain lion skins are laid on the inside side and serve as beds. A bunch of sun-dried meat hung above their heads. Other than that, only a few pieces of clothing are stacked in the corners. Obviously, this is a temporary home that can be taken away or abandoned at any time.

Thrall's frostwolf lay in the doorway of the tent, glaring at Dineen. The act of leashing one of the members seemed to have summoned the enmity of the entire pack for him. But Dineen didn't care. When he was standing outside a tribal settlement, he would not be so stupid as to send all the captives back to deliver the message without leaving hostages.

Sal seems to have gotten a lot bigger than he was a few months ago. Perhaps that black plate armor accounted for most of the factor, but his changes were already visible to the naked eye. Responsibility tempered the mind and spirit of this young orc. In the past, he could only be decisive in battle, in this field that he was only familiar with as a former gladiator. Today, while still modest and cautious, Thrall has become more of a leader, confidently handling all aspects of his affairs.

Perhaps it was because the situation was more difficult than they thought it was that he had grown so quickly. As he walked through the camp, Dineen noticed that there were many elderly people and few children. Not even many young orcs like Thrall's, and they were more rusty with their weapons than he had expected.

"It's true, you can't practice fighting in a concentration camp, and many people have to learn it from scratch. The good thing is that they are not lacking in enthusiasm. ”

"It's not surprising." Dineen commented mockingly. He didn't feel guilty at all about finding the means he had come from.

The shy boy who used to be big and shy might have chosen to back down, but now Thrall looked at him seriously and said frankly, "That's right, there are still some orcs who want to attack human villages. Some want to loot supplies, others worry that the necromancers are a weapon that humans use against us, and the rest want to avenge their friends and family. I've convinced the first two, but I haven't been able to completely dispel the human-hating orcs. ”

Dineen's eyes narrowed, and a stream of fire began to rattle through his throat. But Tirio interjected just in time. Until then, he had been holding the bowl of tea and drinking it slowly, and seemed to like it quite a bit.

"That's what we're here for, Great Chief. But it doesn't sound like we're fit to be in front of your people. ”

"I can make sure you're safe." Sal assured him. After a moment's hesitation, he added, "But if you're willing to hide, you'll be able to avoid some trouble." ”

"—Of the troubles you speak of," Dinen asked with interest, looking at the door of the tent, "including the one outside?" ”