The tribe is preparing for the future...

Orgrim had begun to systematically disperse the various clans of the Horde, and he knew full well that the Horde was about to fail, that the Dark Gate was closed, and that they had nowhere to escape.

After secretly contacting the Alliance, he settled his Blackstone Clan in the Blackstone Tower of the Burning Plains to survive, which is also the bottom line acceptable to the Alliance. Of course, Orgrim paid no small price for this, and the Titan deity demanded the allegiance of a clan in exchange.

To put it simply, if you want a few clans to take refuge in the Burning Plains, then you can give me as many clans of the same size.

I don't know how Hu Feng told Orgrim, in short, Ogrim, the big chief who is dedicated to the tribe, finally agreed!

In the end, Hu Feng got his wish to get a clan that was a little worse than the size of the Blackstone clan, the centripetal force of the Mocking Skull Clan to the tribe was not very high, their patriarch was a cannibal magician named Mogu, his hometown was also in the Frost Fire Ridge, the Frost Wolf Clan occupied most of the area, and the Mock Skull Clan lived in a small area in the east of the Frost Fire Ridge.

With the idea of getting rid of the burden, Orgrim threw the Mocking Skull Clan to Hu Feng.

The orcs of the Skull Clan wore a mask made of white bones, and painted them with various patterns of red dye or blood. The shape of the mask's mouth is somewhat similar to a slight sneer, and the eyes are narrowed into a line. The enemy was very impressed to see a group of masked orcs with the same mocking expressions charging at them on the battlefield, which is also the origin of the name of the Mocking Skull Clan.

Orgrim stands on the upper reaches of a river in the Alterac Mountains that flows down the course to the Hillsbrad Hills. He placed a sturdy rattan basket in the river, and in the basket was the only son of his best friend Durotan.

Orgrim didn't dare to bet, and he didn't know if humans would let orc babies go. Although the Alliance promised to help the captured orcs fight for a better situation according to the situation, who knows if this is a perfunctory act of the Alliance. Losers are not qualified to make claims, and Orgrim understands that very well.

"May the ancestors bless you, Gouyle. May you grow up strong and one day see your father again. Orgrim muttered to himself, looking at the drifting basket with sadness on his face.

The Dragonthroat Clan secretly returned to the wetlands with the eggs, but was still spotted by the High Elves' ranger scouts.

Ogrim had no choice but to pay another small clan, the Thunderblade Clan, and hand it over to Hu Feng as a hush money.

The rest of the clans were all unwilling to flee, and they all said that they would defend Alterac and fight the final battle with the humans. Orgrim wasn't a coward himself, and his patience was stretched to the limit after sending the clans away.

"Well, so be it, the Horde will prove its glory here!"

Lordaeron finally started to attack, and as expected, the striker was another row of steel stars.

The orc warriors of the tribe called the Iron Star the Suicide Wheels, and now the Suicide Wheels spewed flames from both sides and rolled towards them like a steamroller. Orcs are brave, but no matter how brave they are, they are only flesh and blood after all, and they are powerless in the face of this steel and gunpowder. The Horde's defenses are rapidly crumbling.

A large group of orcs suddenly burst out of position, and they began to launch a final charge towards the human army.

"Orcs will never be slaves!"

At the head is Grom's Hellroar, whose blood-red skin flows demonic blood. Before charging, he asked Orgrim to take care of the few orcs in his Warsong clan who had not drunk the demon's blood, and then led all the fallen Warsong orcs who had drunk the demonic blood to launch a desperate charge towards the humans.

They completely ignored the arrows and muskets, as well as the Iron Star, which continued to fire. Grom finally rushed to the human position, and at this moment there were less than fifty people left around him.

The Warsong Patriarch raised his axe and roared in blood, whipping up bursts of minced flesh and severed limbs among the human soldiers.

The human front was chaotic for a moment, and then Uther was pressed down and regrouped. Surround these orcs, who are less than fifty people.

"Lay down your arms, Grom! you and your people have proven your glory, lay down your arms, and you will not lose your lives!" Uther roared, as a noble paladin, he did not want to see these warriors die under the siege of the great army, even if they were orcs.

Grom laughed maniacally, and he raised the roar of blood in his hand.

"Warsong Clan!! listen to my orders and attack !!"

"Orcs will never be slaves!!"

Orgrim clenched his fists and watched as the number of Warsong orcs still standing in the encirclement was rapidly decreasing, and he even wanted Grom to surrender and save these precious warriors for the Horde. But he didn't, because it was Grom Hell Roar, and the name says it all.

Grom felt like he didn't have the strength to clench his fists anymore, and the blood in his hand fell to the ground with a clatter. His red body was pierced by at least ten spears, and blood flowed profusely. His vision began to blur for a while.

The soldiers parted like a tide, and Uther walked up to Grom, looked at him, and then gave a solemn chest-beating salute.

"Even though you are an orc and an enemy of humanity, I still salute you, warrior. ”

Grom grinned wide, hard, blood streaming down the corners of his mouth.

"The tribe ... Ahem. will not die ... Frost Wolf Clan... Durotan ... Cough... He'll let you. Let the banner of the tribe ... Fluttering again ... ”

The body crashed to the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust.

Uther was silent for a moment and waved his hand: "Bury him and his people, warriors should not be in the wilderness." ”

Five days later.

The city of Alterac is broken, and Orgrim leads the tribe to fight to the death.

Clan Breaker Clan Patriarch Kargas * Blade Fist killed.

The patriarch of the Fireblade Clan, the Sword Saint Nierlu * Fireblade was killed in battle.

Orgrim, the Grand Chief of the Tribe, was desperately stopped by the rest of the Minor Clan Chiefs and was eventually captured.

At this point, the old tribes all surrendered.

Zurgin led the remnants of the trolls on the fleeing once more.

The northern human kingdom led by Lordaeron will establish a large asylum in the Hillsbrad Hills and the Alterac region, where all orc captives will be held and subsequently sold as slaves. As long as you have the money, you can buy a few strong orc slaves to go home and help you farm and work. The aristocrats bought orcs in large quantities and forced them to become gladiators, to be thrown into the arena to kill each other, or to fight to the death against all kinds of beasts.

Riverside in the Hillsbrad Hills.

Two human attendants scooped up a basket from the river and presented it to a richly dressed nobleman behind him.

"Lord Blackmore, look! an orc cub! still a rare green skin!"

Blackmore nodded with satisfaction, he decided to bring this orc baby back and train it well, and become a qualified leader in the future, to achieve that hidden goal in his heart!