In the Orc War, the orc tribe that invaded Azeroth was made up of many orc clans, large and small, such as the Blackstone Clan, the Shadow Moon Clan, the Dragonthroat Clan, the Warsong Clan, etc., these orcs who drank the blood of demons were driven by the demon masters, crazy and brutal, but under the stubborn resistance of an alliance of humans, night elves, dwarves and gnomes, the tribe was finally defeated. With the exception of a few corrupt clans that are still on the move, most orcs are imprisoned in captive camps. Here, the effects of demonic blood faded from them.

Later, Thrall, the new chief of the Frostwolf Clan, led his clan warriors to free the orcs who had been imprisoned in the shelter. These orcs, freed from the blood of demons, are different from the orcs of the old tribes, they are still irritable, but they have regained their senses, and they are no longer bloodthirsty and crazy. Under Thrall's leadership, the orcs left the Eastern Kingdom continent and came to the continent of Kalimdor across the sea. Here, they fight alongside the Alliance against the invasion of the Burning Legion, the Orc's former demon masters. After winning the war, they, along with their allies the Minotaurs and the Darkspear Trolls, formed a new tribe in Durontar and made Orgrimmar their capital. Thrall became the first Grand Chief of the new tribe. Later, the Forsaken, an undead spirit led by Sylvanas the Windranger, joins in.

Out of the need for survival, the new tribe sent a large number of men to set up advance camps in Kalimdor and various parts of the Eastern Kingdom, in order to explore the wild areas in obscurantism and obtain more living space.

One of these forward camps was Kargas, a small but functioning outpost where orcs and their allies rested and refueled as they explored the neighborhood. Located in the northwestern part of the Badlands, it's a very important place - it guards the only mountain trail that connects the Badlands to the Scorching Canyon.

The old orc Gaun manages this outpost. Gaun and his warriors kept an eye on the old tribes of the Eastern Kingdoms - the Blackstone Clan in the south and the Dragonthroat Clan in the north. He is dedicated to eradicating the remnants of the fallen orcs on the continent and promoting trust between tribes and alliances.

But his efforts alone clearly failed to bridge the estrangement and hatred between the Alliance and the Horde (old and new), even in the last year, when the Horde and the Alliance had only fought side by side against the invasion of the Burning Legion. But after the war, the camp immediately became less friendly to the Allies who passed through it - the blood feud caused by the orc war was not so easy to clear.

Twenty-one years after the opening of the Dark Gate.

One afternoon at the end of June of that year, two mysterious travelers wrapped in cloaks arrived outside the east gate of Kargas. But just fifty meters from the gate, an arrow shot into the ground stopped them from approaching.

"Who are you?" An orc shouted from the arrow tower behind the wooden fence, his human language sounding a little lame, but barely intelligible.

"Two travelers from the Wastelands, we've been walking for more than a month, tired and hungry, in dire need of rest and supplies." The taller of the two travelers replied, but it wasn't as grim as he said, for both the druid and the hunter were no strangers to the wilderness, and even if they stayed there for half a year, they wouldn't feel that hard.

"What do you guys do?" The orc sentinels warily said that none of the people who could pass through the barren land full of beasts and ogres were fuel-efficient lamps, and the weak had been eliminated in the desert.

"Traveling Merchant." The tall man replied, patting the large bag on his back, which contained some rare herbs he had collected along the way, which were essential materials for alchemy, and could also grind various special inks to make zuò inscriptions, which were quite precious.

"It's a smuggler, right?" The guard sarcastically said that he had a basis for thinking so. Since the Orc Wars, merchants have rarely taken this dangerous trade route anymore, and only the lucrative smugglers will smuggle contraband such as blood thistles through guò.

"Let's go, you're not welcome here!" The guard who had "exposed" them for what they really was, smugly, waved his hand and motioned for them to leave like a fly.

"So can we get to the Scorching Canyon through Guò?" The tall man was silent for a moment, and lowered his demand, in fact, this was their original intention, "We can pay a toll." ”

"No," the orc sentry hesitated, seemingly resisting the lure of the gold, but he eventually refused the traveler's request - he was too young to be mercenary, "this place is closed, and we have received news that there is a new movement in the Dragonroar Clan to the north. ”

"Do you think we're going to be Dragonroar Orcs?" The tall man jerked his hood back to reveal his long ears and the Night Elf's face, and he motioned for his companion to do the same. The latter did so cooperatively, but he didn't think it would work. Because there are so many items in Azeroth that can change a person's appearance, he once had a Sindore Orb before he crossed over, and he could disguise himself as a Blood Elf.

"That's not going to work, an order is an order!" Sure enough, the loyal orc sentry resolutely rejected the Night Elves, "The order says that no one is allowed to pass Guò. ”

This made the Night Elf very angry, and he waved his hands excitedly and took a few steps forward, but an arrow immediately landed at his feet.

"Don't come near unless you want to taste my arrows!" The young orc shouted nervously, but it looked like he was eager for the Night Elf to do so.

The Night Elf angrily condensed his natural energy, intending to teach the young man a lesson, but more orc guards poking their heads out from behind the wooden fence made him completely dispel this idea.

"What a hell of a life!" The Night Elf grumbled in a low voice, quietly dispersing the spell energy that had begun to gather, and retreated with his companions, disappearing from the orc's sight. Behind them, the mocking laughter of the orcs continued.

"You're right, these greenskins are as stupid as the stone palatines, as if their brains are full of." On a dirt slope about a mile from Cagas's camp, the Night Elf Masrae Bearskin, who volunteered to negotiate on behalf of the two men, but was defeated, cursed angrily.

Beside him, Diego Asnar was looking in the direction of Kargas, the whites of his eyes around his pupils completely golden, and the edges of his face emitted a reddish glow, a sign of Eagle Eye. This spell allows him to see farther, far beyond the limits of the human eye.

"I saw a dozen orcs being sent out of camp, and they were deploying their forces in the direction of the mountain pass path, well, I have to congratulate you, boy, on your success in scaring the snakes and alerting the greenskins." Diego said sarcastically, looking down to see the elven boy pouting in embarrassment, looking like he was about to cry.

"How do I know these orcs are so ......," Masrae said aggrievedly, a little unsure of how to describe those pesky orcs.

"So ruthless?" Diego adjusted his tone and tried to make his voice sound softer, "You know, we and the orcs have only fought a few battles of life and death, Stormwind City was wiped out for a time, some orc clans and even the entire clan were wiped out, do you feel that these hatreds can be eliminated by a forced and helpless joint battle?" ”

"But these orcs are different, they are a new tribe!" Masrae stubbornly argued.

"But most of them came out of the old tribes! Many of them have a blood feud with us, and their relatives - parents, children, siblings and even entire families - have died at the hands of the Alliance. While it seems to us that they deserve it, retribution for their invasion of Azeroth, can you be sure that they think the same way? Diego asked rhetorically, his eyes blazing at the Night Elves, "Today is our luck, they didn't kill us on the spot, it's already a very restrained thing." But from today onwards, I won't condone you anymore, you're risking both of our lives. ”

"Well, I'll listen to you," the Night Elf was convinced, admiringly, "I have to admit that I'm really not good at using my brain. ”

"It's not that you're not good at using your brain, you're brainless!" Diego teased.

"Hey, you!" The hairy boy was angry and his neck was red.

"Alright, alright, just kidding." Diego smiled and waved his hand as he walked down the hill. In the shadow at the foot of the slope, Guan Haifa slowly revealed his figure—it had just sneaked out to reconnoitre.

The big cat met Diego, who stopped at his lap and let out a low growl.

"What is it talking about?" The Night Elves asked curiously, this is the class limit of the druids, if they are not in the state of casting spells to appease the animals, they will not be able to know the thoughts of the animals, and the hunters are different, they can understand the thoughts of the animals at all times, but the object is limited to their pets.

"The orcs have stepped up their guarding of the trails, and they have sent at least two dozen of their most elite warriors!" Diego said in a heavy tone, which was in line with what he had seen with the Guò Eagle Eye.

"What then? Shall we? The Night Elf said murderously.

"No, let's think of something else," Diego vetoed Masrae's proposal, and although the orcs rejected their tongguò today, Diego still didn't want to go on a killing spree. He reminds himself that this is a real world, not a game, that life is only once for anyone, and he doesn't want to become a ruthless cold-blooded person. These orcs weren't depraved and crazy dragonthroat orcs, nor were they evil and selfish Black Iron Dwarves, they still seemed restrained, and even if they didn't want to make things easier for the Alliance, they didn't attack either of them - the new tribe needed recuperation, a respite, and they didn't want to provoke a war.

"Maybe we can touch it quietly and not alarm anyone." Diego said he was not a pacifist, but he was certainly not a good person, and he was just wary of not being overly violent. Sooner or later, there will be a war between the estranged Alliance and the Horde, but he doesn't want it to be caused by himself, at least he doesn't want to add anything to the hatred between the two sides.

The two of them didn't have to wait long, and it was getting dark. After a brief bite of jerky, the two of them began to prepare for the evening in the afterglow of dusk.

The barren land at night was pleasantly cool compared to the heat and scorching heat of the day, and if it weren't for the sand still rolling in the wind, Diego wouldn't even feel how harsh the place was. But this is not the case, the night is the time when many nocturnal beasts come out to feed, and many poisonous insects such as scorpions and pit vipers also become active. Diego encountered a black, shiny sand scorpion, a venomous insect that could hardly be called a worm - it was almost the size of a basin, and when it held its claws and tail spines high, even Guan Haifa did not dare to go up and tease it. The two of them walked around the big scorpion in a very low-key manner.

Diego remembered that there were still some hunters who kept poisonous scorpions as pets before the crossing, but he didn't know how those people tamed this poisonous insect, and he admired it deeply, and he didn't dare to try it anyway, even with the treatment of Masrae Bearskin.

It's a double moon, which makes it difficult for them to sneak through guò, but the steep mountain walls still pose some shadows, and it's an endless road.

The Kargas camp did not block the valley path, it was still some distance from the rock wall - about ** ten meters, which ensured that the range of the arrow towers in the camp could completely cover the road, but at night, this goal was difficult to achieve. Even the Night Elves, who have the strongest night vision, are hard to see clearly at this distance.

Masrae and Guan Haifa had already gone ahead to explore their way, and even with the light of the two moons, night was still the most celebratory time for them, and the night was like a cloak to hide their every move. Looking west from here, you can see the sky over the Scorching Canyon being reddened by scorching lava.

Diego, who was suffering for his life, crawled as slowly as silently as he could. A lizardskin cloak covered his entire body, making him appear to blend in with the rough ochre ground.

On their journey through the Wastelands, the recipes of the two men who are not picky eaters include almost every species in the land - oh, except for the wise ones like ogres and black iron dwarves, of course. Of all these species, the sand lizard meat tastes the best, whether it's a lizard skewer, a smoked lizard, or a crispy fried lizard tail, Masrae is a foodie who raises about it.

In the spirit of not wasting it, Diego sewed this camouflage cloth cloak out of the skin of these sand lizards. Diego had to admit that the skin of these chameleons was really a natural material for camouflage cloth, and it could change color with the change of terrain and landform, which was many times better than the camouflage gilly suit that Diego had seen before he crossed. And according to the Night Elves, this fine leather can also insulate from heat, so Diego went to an abandoned mine where the stone palatinous monster was entrenched and tried it, and sure enough, in the depths of the dark mine, none of the stone palatins with infrared night eyes found him close at hand, which made Diego ecstatic - this thing is simply an artifact for hunters, whether it is a lurking sniper or a disguised escape, this cloak can play an unimaginably huge role.

But even so, Diego did not dare to be careless. Their daytime visit apparently aroused the vigilance of the orcs, and almost every once in a while, after nightfall, a flare arrow wrapped in oilcloth would be fired and rain down on the area between the camp and the mountain wall. This makes him extremely passive, as flares have a much greater effect on hunters than druids, in which case he can barely move, but his leopard form can pass guò out of the range of flares.

He climbs very slowly, maybe two or three meters a minute. He had to do it, and if he climbed too fast, the orcs on the arrow tower would definitely notice. Sometimes, he had to stop and stand still for a while, lest the orc sentries who were watching him notice something unusual.

And so, when two hours later, Diego had almost collapsed when he tumbled into a pit at the foot of a hill, exhausted by the extreme tension and the long hours he had been in one position, and he looked even more wolf than if he had just fought a big battle.

It was about two hundred meters away from the Cagas camp, a distance at which even the most eyesighted orcs could not see it at night. He breathed a sigh of relief, poked his head out of the corner of the mountain wall, and then quickly shrank back.

In this moment, he saw a group of orc soldiers sitting around a campfire on the path between the two mountains, about twenty or thirty meters away. There should be some kind of meat roasted on the campfire, and even at his distance, he could smell the aroma of the roasted meat.

The path, which was about four or five meters wide, was tightly blocked by this group of orc soldiers. This gave Diego a headache, and it seemed that there was no other option but to kill him, although a dozen orcs were not particularly difficult for two people - oh, and now there was one more Guanhaifa - not particularly difficult.

"It would be nice if there was a thief who could throw smoke bombs to cause chaos, and then there would be a chance." Diego said to himself. Although he also had a recipe for engineering smoke grenades, it required elemental explosive powder and spirit pattern cloth to make it, both of which were Outland specialties that he couldn't get hold of right now. Unlike the thieves' smoke bombs, they are completely condensed by energy and do not require any materials.

Although Diego has no affection for thieves, he has to admit that there are times when these ghosts wander the shadows more easily than other professions. Let's say what's going on now.

……

Note: The thieves of Azeroth are not thieves or robbers in the traditional sense of the word - although they are equally adept at sneaking through doors, picking locks, and finding their bags. They, like warriors, are an adventurous profession. Most of them prefer to use poisoned daggers or daggers to attack from behind enemies. As excellent assassins and stealth masters, they are the best scouts. They are adept at defusing traps - which is perhaps a big reason why Diego hates them.

These wanderers in the shadows are adept at stealth. While disappearing from people's sight, they are also free from the shackles of morality. Some thieves degenerate into mercenary killers or even robbers, and because of the dialectical relationship between rat poop and soup, few people like thieves, and even if those who are recruited by MI7 call themselves stalkers, those who know their roots still like to call them thieves.

Blood thistle, an herb, is said to be an exotic product smuggled into the world of Azeroth from the Outlands, and is highly addictive, similar to the poppy.