Woo~~~~

A team of white beasts ran wildly in the endless snowfield, their white fur and goose feathers blending into the snow. Pen, fun, pavilion www. biquge。 infoThese beasts are all about a meter tall, like calves.

The orcs on the backs of the frostwolves had brown skin and muscular sense, and in the midst of the ice and snow, each orc wore only a simple leather armor, with the bones of various beasts on their shoulders, and a rough, wind-dancing leather banner embroidered with a silver-white wolf head embroidered on it.

The leader of the orc was dressed in a complete set of frostwolf skins, the wolf's head almost covered half of his face, and the frostwolves under him were several times larger than the other frostwolves.

Woo~~~Woo~~~

One of the orcs in the queue blew the desolate horn again, and the melodious sound of the horn lingered for a long time in the ancient snowy fields of Frostfire Ridge.

Another group of wolf cavalry came in front of them, their wolves were black, and the orcs on their backs were much taller than the orcs of the frostwolf clan. The group of orcs had only a large black flag with a black hammer carved on it.

The two teams of wolf cavalry stopped when they were more than ten meters apart, and the leading orc turned over and got off the wolf and hugged him fiercely.

"Hahahaha, Durotan!"

"Long time no see, Orgrim!"

Orgrim looked at his best friend in front of him, his heavy mood became a lot lighter, and he must be able to answer his doubts for himself.

"Let's go, go back to Dota Fortress! The feast is already waiting for you, hahahaha!"

The two got on the wolf and ran forward side by side. The two teams of orcs merged as one, closely following the two chiefs.

Dota Fortress, a massive tower-shaped fortress that stands in the middle of the snowfield, has been home to the Frostwolf clan for generations. As evening approached, the smoke of the fires loomed, and the frostwolf orcs finished their day's hunting and fighting, and began to eat meat and drink in their own stone houses. A bitter cold wind began to blow, and the frost fire ridge at night was extremely cold.

In the highest hall of the fortress, the orcs sat around a large campfire, laughing and talking loudly. Durotan and Orgrim sat in a corner, touching the stone glasses in their hands.

"What's the matter, old friend, weren't you busy organizing large-scale hunting at this time in previous years?

Ogrim faced his best friend and didn't hide the worry between his brows. "I'm a little worried, no... Very worried. Ever since Gul'dan had shown his mysterious, terrifying power to the clans, things had spiraled out of control. The number of warlocks began to increase wildly, while the number of shamans became fewer and fewer. I also understand that the power of the Warlock is extraordinarily strong, but ... ”

"But there's something strange about the warlock's power, isn't it. Durotan took over his friend's words. "Warlocks from the Stormraider Clan have also come to me to show their power. It's incredible, even the mighty Goron can't resist that force. But I also saw that the power called the evil energy turned everything into scorched earth, and that power affected not only the land, but also the minds of the orcs. ”

Orgrim nodded vigorously, "Now that Gul'dan is getting more and more powerful, many small clans have already taken his lead for him. And you're right, the change caused by the power known as evil energy. The jungle of Tanaan, where the Stormmarauder clan is located, has completely changed its appearance. Orcs affected by evil powers... It has also become a little cruel and crazy, and they no longer know what honor is. ”

"And what about your worries, old friend, are you worried that the orcs will fall by evil powers?"

"No... I do not know... Now that the major clans have warlocks, hunting and fighting are indeed countless times better than before, and even the black hand chief of the black hand clan has accepted the power of evil energy. ”

Durotan was silent for a moment, looking at the noisy orcs in the hall, "Leave it to time, the ancestors will guide us." All I can do is keep the Frostwolf Clan traditional and the shamanic teachings alive. ”

Shadowmoon Valley, the Temple of Carabo.

The old body of the prophet Wei Lun collapsed to the ground suddenly, his face was cold sweat, and his body kept shaking. Ariel, the garrison who was standing by, immediately filled up and lifted up the prophet on the ground.

"Prophet, it happened ... What?" Iriel's voice was delicate and gentle, but at the moment it was more confused.

"Disaster ... The calamity of our Delaney, no ... I must seek more guidance from the Light.

Iriel's body immediately tensed, and a cool air came from the soles of his feet... Well, it's the bottom of the hooves that comes up. The prophet Veron's prophecy was never wrong, but now disaster is about to befall Lenny after so many disasters and escaped the hunt of his former compatriots Ereda.

"Yes, guidance ... I had to keep communicating with that voice, the being named Naru had told me, and now I had to know more. ”

In the Nagrand savannah, the endless orcs are gathering.

Many of them no longer had their original brown skin, and after drinking the blood of power, they were replaced by blood red, and their eyes were also full of red, and their tyrannical expressions were unobstructed.

The calmness and straightforwardness of the past seemed to be far away from them, and the current assembly place was full of orcs who wanted to kill people because of the slightest trivial matter. But no one succeeded, because every now and then, a green fire struck them fiercely, causing them to scream wildly. The warlocks maintained the discipline of these orcs from different clans, and these orc warlocks were all green skinned, with bulging blood vessels on their arms, and the blood inside seemed to be polluted green by evil energy.

An unusually tall orc stepped out of the tent and stood on the platform, his shoulders adorned with two dragon-like skulls, two long, sharp tendrils dragging behind his back, and his hands had turned into a pair of terrifyingly sharp claws, mixed with the green of evil energy, like rocks covered in green sewage.

"Orc, be silent!" the roar of the Black Hand High Chief echoed throughout the area.

"To the East! Those Draenei have been living in that land long enough! Now, we orcs will have that land! Kill all their people!"

The wild cheers of "Lok-tar!!Lok-tarogar!!" resounded through the Nagrand steppes.

Standing behind the black hand, the warlock Gul'dan, who hid his face in the shadow of the black hood, watched all this quietly and laughed a few times.