The three orcs walked silently and coldly through the camp towards this direction. The people around them hurriedly made way for them, and those who were a little farther away forgot about their work and stood there stunned. The one at the head was thin and tall, with knotted muscles, and his long black hair was scattered over his back. His body was covered in chains, swaying gently as he moved, making a rattling sound. There are more than a dozen earrings on both ears, and the jaw is completely black because of the dense tattoos. When he stopped in front of the tent, his eyes flashed a terrifying red light, like a red charcoal fire in a furnace.

He didn't need to pull out the famous axe, or hear the trademark howl. Every orc knew him and knew his name. For years, the chief of the Warsong Clan led his people, confronting both the humans of the land and the lethal fatigue of a warrior, never yielding to either side. His name has become legendary, and the orcs are awe-struck with awe.

But it is precisely because of this that the Warsong Orcs are the most hostile clan to humans. While Hellroar himself has always been dismissive of the idea of attacking women and children, his clan, and those closest to Warsong Orcs, have become increasingly aggressive. They strongly advocate raiding villages, killing their pursuers, and instilling fear in the hearts of humans.

"Let them know that we are no longer their slaves," Thrall once heard an orc growl, and those around him nodded in agreement, "Let them pay for the time they once enslaved us." ”

Looking at the guest beside him, Sal smiled wryly and stood up to greet him.

"Grom, old friend, what wind brought you here?"

"Thrall." Grom nodded in hello. Even when he wasn't roaring, his voice was hoarse and rough, as if lava was flowing from below, "I'm assuming you don't know about it yet. Not long ago, one of my people was dragged around the neck by a human rope like a cattle. ”

Sal was about to answer when a sneer from behind him interrupted him.

"Because she's going to teach me not to wander around, hell roars, and I'm going to assume you don't know about it yet."

Dinen stepped out of the tent and confronted Chief Warsong. They looked at each other briefly but unyieldingly, like two wild beasts meeting on a narrow path, tempting, intimidating, and measuring each other's abilities. Then Grom bared his fangs.

"While your people are digging the ground on the flat ground, the humans, the forests and the hills are the hunting grounds of my clan, places you have never set foot in."

"Well, well," replied Dineen, "even if the farmer were to make a vole behind his hedge, we would not say that only the house was his estate. ”

One of Warsong Chieftain's retinue rushed forward. The other twisted his companion's arm and pressed his shoulder against his chest, pushing him back into place. For the little fight that took place behind him, Hell Roar didn't even look back.

"I'm not going to pretend I don't know you, human." He growled, "I know what you've done, but I'm not stupid enough to believe you want anything else." You have not been dragged to feed the wolves because of Thrall's hospitality, but if you continue to speak ill of me, even he will not have time to spare your life from under my axe. ”

Dinen laughed loudly, his voice as fierce as the orcs.

"My life cannot be forgiven by anyone, I can defend it myself. If anyone dares to question this, I'm always happy to let him see it. ”

The atmosphere became even more sinister. Grom shifted his stance and leaned over with his shoulders heavy, apparently not intending to repeat his threat, but preparing to put it into practice. Dineen responded immediately, reaching for the hilt of his sword behind his back.

"—that's enough."

Before things could become irreparable, Thrall intervened between them, forcing the two sabre-rattling warriors to step back and make way for him. He opened his arms to separate them even more, and said in a resolute tone, "That's all you guys have to do here." ”

His body alone could do little to hinder him, and Dineen and Grom still glared at each other, unsheathed weapons in their hands. Either of them could bypass him and attack in the blink of an eye, but that would mean challenging Thrall's authority, and no one would be stupid enough to make such a mistake.

"Both of you are my friends." Sal continued, "If you consider me a friend, listen to me. I don't ask you to trust each other, but I want you to trust my judgment. I promise that everyone here has the same goal, regardless of their starting point. But it can only be achieved if we work together. There is no point in fighting, it only drains our strength. ”

The two sides of the stalemate did not immediately react to his words. It was a moment before Grom slowly removed his hand from the handle of the axe.

"I'll keep an eye on you." He warned Dineen, "You'd better not do anything out of bounds, or I'll figure out every account." ”

Dinen sneered in return. But Hellroar did not respond to this provocation again. He turned to leave, his retinue following closely behind. They walked through the camp in silence and swiftness as they came, and soon disappeared behind the tents, leaving only many stunned eyes looking in their direction or in this direction.

"It looks like we're not fit to hide anymore." Tirio stood behind them and said calmly, "Does anyone know what to do next?" ”

***

What to do next is still up for debate, but it's getting late, and the top priority is to find a place where you can sleep peacefully. Of course, they were not suitable for staying in Sal's tent, but luckily there was an acquaintance to choose from in the camp.

"Ah, I'm still wondering why today's harvest is exceptionally good, it turns out that the spirit of the ancestors reminded me to come to visit." Itreg put down his fishing rod, not surprised by their sudden visit, "Tie those two horses closer, or they'll be eaten tonight." Which of the two of you will handle fish? I can't do it myself. ”

"I will." Dinen said. It makes sense to believe that the Paladin had never poked a fish around with a tool other than a knife and fork, and that he could do it well with a dagger.

Tirio crossed his arms and looked at the fish that were still in good spirits, and took a step back when one of them was about to jump on his boot, "Okay, then I'll make a fire." ”

He took a handful of firewood from the pile of firewood next to the tent, and Itreg commanded, "Have a pot on the shelf in the tent, and use it to boil the water." ”

"You have a pot?" Dineen asked.

"yes, what's wrong?"

"We just came from Sal and I didn't see the pot in his tent."

"So you think we can't get it, do you?" Itreig snorted and chopped off the head of a catfish, "That's because he doesn't need to." He's a frost wolf, and frostwolves always eat together. Someone will do it for him. ”

"Your clan doesn't have such a habit?"

Tirio interjected, "He chose to leave because he was disappointed in them. The flint and steel rang in his hand. He squinted his eyes, discerning the sparks bursting out in the afterglow of the setting sun, then lowered his head to blow.

"That's one thing." "On the other hand, it's almost non-existent. Apart from the Frost Wolf and Warsong, there are no other clans here. I've heard that there are still a few clans active far away, but no one here wants to join them. ”

"Why?" Tirio asked.

The catfish, which had lost its head, was still struggling desperately on the ground, splashing many mud spots. The old orc held his knife and stared at the still churning fish.

"Why? That's a good question. "Clan used to be an important concept. At that time, we were so proud of our differences that we didn't want to be confused with our fellow citizens. At that time, no one would rashly walk into the camps of other clans at night, and the young men guarded their own clan's girls like wild boars in heat.

"But it's not anymore. The war between orcs and humans has taken away not only my sons, but also our culture and traditions. We were crushed and scattered. Young people no longer know which clan they are members of, and old people no longer bother to draw distinctive tattoos and emblems. When you and other people are sleeping in muddy water, what does it matter which clan you belong to? When you no longer desire to raise your hands for glory, what difference does that mark make with a fancy ornament? In the past, in the eyes of humans, we were all the same. Now, we see ourselves in the same way. ”

Itreig tossed aside the fish that had quieted down and grabbed another one from the basket.

"That's why we're so easily taken on the leadership of a frostwolf. In the time of the Black Hand and the Hammer of Doom, they will first give orders to our chiefs, and then have our chiefs come back to give orders to us. But the Son of Durotan could speak to anyone and send him out, and no one would have an opinion—it was hard to tell if that was a good thing, or not. ”

He cut off the fish's head again, and it was just as alive as the one before. Itreg smacked it hard with the back of his knife to silence it. Then he said to Dineen, "I heard that you almost got into a fight with Hellroar today. ”

"You already know about it?"

"Almost everyone was talking about it, and I heard it as soon as I walked into the camp."

"What do they think?"

Itrieg shrugged, "They all think you're dead." ”

"Hah!" "So, no one will bother to sneak into the tent in the middle of the night to cut off my head until Hellroar decides to do it." ”

"But the Great Chief has stated that he does not want to see such a conflict." Tirio said above their heads. He carefully poured the water from the bucket into the pot and left the rest for them to wash.

Itreg pointed at him with the blunt knife stained with fish blood, "We lost our clan before we accepted the leadership of a frostwolf. And the war song is not yet. Now they respect each other, yes, but if Hellroar wants to do something, the Sons of Durotan will have a hard time stopping him. ”

"Good." Dinen grinned, "I'm worried he'll stop there." ”

"Why do you think it's a good thing to clash with such an orc?" Tirio asked, tapping the handle of Itreig's spoon on the shoulder. Dineen held up the fillet in his hand and handed it to him.

"I know what kind of orcs Hell Roar is." "He's quicker than he's smart, and he's never trusting a foreigner," he said. If we could only speak out by convincing Saar privately—no, I wouldn't pin the safety of my fellow citizens on the mercy of the tribe. Someone here must speak for the interests of the alliance, and these words must be taken seriously. ”

Tirio shook his head slowly, "Defeating Hellroar in a duel will allow him to listen to you?" ”

"Nope." Dinen and Itreg said at the same time.

"But that would make him quiet so the others could hear." Dineen further explained, "Those people understand that while you and I are alone here, Lordaeron is behind us. I want to tell them that we have the right to participate in decision-making, that we have the same determination to carry it out, and that no threat or intimidation will keep me silent. ”

"If you have a real chance to defeat Hellroar." Itreg warned, "I've fought beside him. No matter what you think of him, I still have to say that he is the most amazing fighter I have ever met. Anyone who wants to fight him, it is best to pray that all souls will be on their side. ”

Dineen wiped her hands and stood up.

"You can stand the way they want to stand, but it's only my sword that will determine the outcome." He said, "Now put the fish in the pot, the water is going to boil." ”