Not surprisingly, when Drunken Wind offered to exile the Elder God to Draenor, the orcs jumped to their feet. Pen, fun, pavilion www. biquge。 info

Although Draenor has collapsed, it is the home of the orcs - in fact, there are many orcs waiting for the tribe in Draenor!

In this regard, Drunken Wind has been prepared for a long time.

"Don't get excited, I'd be inclined to exile the Elder Gods to Draenor, but that's just an option - the Draenei had been to many planets before arriving at Draenor, so it would be nice to find a place with demons and leave them behind."

Hearing Drunken Wind mention the Draenei, Sal calmed down a lot.

Drektar had told Thrall the story of his father, Durontan, and he didn't hide anything about the Draenei.

When he was young, Durotan once strayed into Shattrath, and when he got lost, it was Velen who saved him, and inadvertently, Durotan saw Shattrath's spell to lift his defenses.

As a result, when the orcs were bewitched by the Burning Legion, Durotan chose to betray the Draenei under the threat of Neozu.

Or maybe it's not very appropriate, Durotan is a chieftain and not a virgin after all, and Veron is just a friendly stranger to him, and when Naozu threatens the safety of the Frostwolf Clan, Durotan chooses his own people as a matter of course.

Then Shattrath fell......

Regarding this incident, this may be the biggest stain on Durotan's life, although he was not directly involved in the attack, but the destruction of Shattrath is really inseparable from him.

Drektar told Thrall in detail about the cause and effect of this incident, and through this incident, he told Thrall that Durotan had made the right choice at that time—it was a sinful and correct choice.

After Drunken Wind mentions the Draenei, Thrall begins to wonder what Drunkard means - it sounds like Drunken Wind is trying to figure out what Draenor looks like now.

"Let's get straight to it." Sal finally frowned, "I'm calm now. ”

"That's good." Drunken Feng nodded slightly, "Everything in Draenor is unknown now, we don't know if there are demons there, but the point is that due to the existence of the Dark Gate, Draenor has been tied to Azeroth. ”

"But isn't the Dark Gate sealed?" Thrall didn't quite understand the meaning of drunken wind, although the shaman was also a spellcaster, but the difference between him and the mage was still quite big, "How can you tie it together if it is sealed?" ”

"But the gate once existed, after all." Drunken Wind's expression was very solemn, "It was no one else who controlled Medivan to open that door in the first place, it was none other than Sargeras, the leader of the Burning Legion, this door is not only a spatial portal, but also a positioning anchor, as long as you reach Draenor, as long as you spend a little effort, you can come to Azeroth!" ”

Hearing Zuifeng say this, everyone felt a little incredulous.

"Drunken Wind is absolutely right." Medivan, who had been sitting beside him for a long time like a carved clay sculpture of wood, finally spoke, "At that time, Sargeras manipulated me and did a lot of things, and according to my research later, I didn't know the meaning behind many things at all - on the main body of the dark gate, there were even many runes that I didn't understand at all......"

"In other words, although the dark door is closed, it is not foolproof?" Varian looked rather anxious, "You mean to say that the door in the Cursed Lands is still a huge hidden danger?!" ”

"Don't be nervous, Varian." Drunken Wind waved his hand gently, "Although the demon is ferocious, but he is not really omnipotent, we have a hard time in the battle of Mount Hyjal, and the demon is not easy!" They won't have time to come to Azeroth for a while. ”

"So, you're planning ahead?"

"Almost." Drunken Wind affirmed this statement, "We need a skirmish. ”

"But why Draenor?" Sal still disagrees with Drunkenwind's statement, "There are still our relatives there!" I can't accept it if there is no exact reason! ”

"First." Drunken Wind held out a finger, "I didn't say that I didn't care about banishing the Elder God directly to Draenor, if Draenor still has orcs, if these orcs are willing to obey the order of Azeroth, I am willing to help them, come to Azeroth, and join your tribe." ”

"Second." Drunken Wind held out a second finger, "If you still can't bear to Draenor, I can send you orcs back there, and don't forget who you are - when you first came to this world, you were not honorable!" ”

Looking at the drunken wind's fierce expression towards Sal, the alliance couldn't help but feel refreshed, this is the familiar drunken wind, Zuifeng and Lothar were friends at the beginning!

And at this point, the people of the tribe were angry - damn it, why did you talk to the Great Chief like that? Who are you?

Well, as the leader of the oath, Drunken Wind is really qualified to shout at Thrall like this, after all, Thrall at this time is not the world that saved Azeroth, and in the natural disaster war, although the support of the tribe eased the conflict between the two sides, it was only eased.

In the face of many major positions of right and wrong, the confidence of orcs is not enough.

While Gromash Hellroar and Red Black Hand were on the verge of exploding, Thrall was surprisingly calm.

"If you can keep the Orcs of Draenor safe, you can exile the Elder Gods there."

"Great Chief?!"

Red's eyes widened in disbelief.

And Grommash even called out Sal's name directly - "Gouyle, what are you talking about?!" ”

"I'm saying that if Draenor's sacrifice could be exchanged for the peace of Azeroth, it would be fine!"

This time, Thrall turned to Gromash and said it word for word.

"That's Draenor!" "There's Nagrand, there's Frost and Fire, that's where our ancestors have lived for generations!" ”

"But Draenor is dead!" Thrall didn't back down, "I'm the Great Chief of the Tribe, and I must be responsible for everyone in the tribe - Draenor used to be my hometown, but that's just once, and our orcs are now home to Azeroth!" ”

With Thrall's words, the elemental spirits began to stir in the cramped tent of negotiation.

Grommash's nostrils began to spew hot air, and he could not tolerate the tribe's retreat from his homeland, so he got up and left the tent in desperation.

In the hands of the guards, Gromash snatched his own blood roar and held it high above his head.

"Makgora!"