- Dark Burkman wrote:
- I've never even seen your any of your stuff.
Rojmane looked down on the broken and headless body of Sharptusk Thornmantle. The White Ladyand the Blue Child rose in the sky above, their light cast an eerie glow over the headless body. The
cool air whispered across Red Cloud Mesa, and ran through Brambleblade Ravine, it pushed itself onto
Rojmane’s words as he delivered his ominous message.
Rojmane raised his staff above his head and spoke “It has been many seasons since the great god
Agamaggan blessed us with the gift of life. When we climbed up from his blood, he craved blood from
our enemies as a just offering in return. Now we weather a storm of our own blood. We may return
here one day but now it is time to finally return the great blessing Agamaggan bestowed on us. We
must return home to Razorfen Kraul and restore the quilboar tribes to their rightful glory!”
As Rojmane stepped back there was no joy in the Bristleback Tribe the Brambleblade Ravine had often
been a place of peace for the quilboar but recently the elements had turned against it and now the
quilboar fled for fear the Shu’halo would destroy them. Worse the tribe had to appeal to the pity of
Charlga Razorflank, leader of the Death’s Head Tribe; her merciless nature had earned her the ire of
many quilboar, Rojmane included.
The hatred stemmed from her ill-fated alliance with the Scourge, the decision to ally with the dead had
now begun to work against her. Her own soldiers fell to the Plague of Undeath and she would need to
badly replenish her forces. Rojmane would not be happy to provide that service but retaking the capitol
was essential to his people’s moral. Hopefully this would allow him to unite the quilboar tribes once
again.
***
The Deadmines rang empty and hollow as Goldtooth marched with the surviving kobolds into them.
Goldtooth kept a straight face for the many kobolds who had “chosen” to follow him. As the kobold
stepped into an open cavern his head turned upwards at what lay before his eyes. It was a massive
structure and most likely took several of his lifetimes to complete.
It was curved like a diamond but had large stalactite looking objects projecting out of it. These
stalactites were growing the wrong way though. Also it was multilayered like a cavern but there was
a covering built over it. Goldtooth did not understand the function of this covering, when you were
covered from the rest of the mine; it meant death from a cave in. The strangest thing about the object
was that bright lights dotted the structure, like candles but much larger. This place was a cavern of
mystery.
As the kobolds behind Goldtooth approached, they began to freeze at the site of the structure. Even
in their deep travels underground they had never witness anything as amazing as this object. While his
fellow kobolds were amazed by the new site Goldtooth began to look past it and out of the corner of his
eye he spied a small sliver of light breaking on the dark water below. He couldn’t trace the source of the
light. That shocked Goldtooth. It was so very strange to see a ray of light that originated from above
but left no candle in its wake.
Suddenly Goldtooth’s concentration was broken by his “ally.”
“Keep moving it’s just a ship,” Hogger commanded.
Hogger, leader of the Riverpaw Gnolls (and many others), devourer of his own, and bane of the
Stormwind Guard, had taken Goldtooth and several nests of kobolds into this mine for one purpose. At
first Goldtooth assumed that the gnoll leader wished for them to mine the gold but now he was afraid
his purpose was related to this mysterious “ship”.
Goldtooth attempted to mouth the word; he tasted the strange syllables on his tongue.
Hogger stood in front of the nests of kobolds with his band of gnolls surrounding them. He tore at a
haunch of meat in his right paw, there was no need to guess where it came from.
Hogger spoke roughly and said only one sentence in rough Common, “Fix this boat.”
The kobolds’ attempted to stare straight back at Hogger but were distracted as strange creatures began
to rise from the deeps.
Behind Hogger fishy eyes began to squirm in the dark. The creatures began to crawl onto the dock and
quickly surrounded the caravan. Hogger slowly turned to face this new adversary.
“Why hello Yshmeel, are you ready to begin our project?” Hogger stated in Zandali to keep the kobolds
from hearing him.
Yshmeel a black and red Murloc Nightcrawler stood directly in front of Hogger.
“You invalidated our deal Hogger.” Yshmeel stated coldly.
“I prefer to think I enhanced it.”
“I told you to tell no outsiders about our deal.”
“And how do you suppose that I should fix the ship? With my two paws?”
As the two argued, Goldtooth listened to their eventually recognizing the language, though as he spent
his time listening the kobolds behind Goldtooth began to push him forward and into the midst of the
argument.
“We’ll do it.” Goldtooth interrupted.
“What?” Yshmeel stuttered half surprised by the Kobold’s confidence and the other half by how he
knew Zandali.
“We will repair your… ‘ship,’” the word sounded strange on Goldtooth’s tounge, “and in return we want
protection from our many enemies.”
“We are those enemies.” Hogger responded bluntly.
“As far as you know,” Goldtooth smirked “So do we have an agreement?”
“We do,” responded Yshmeel.
And with that the deal was struck.
***
In the Northern most part of the Barrens, the trees were glinting as the sun was swallowed up by
darkness. The light glimmered on the ground and was slowly devoured by the deep void above
Kalimdor. The misnamed Dry Hills sparkled in the night and shimmered like gold. A sight as beautiful
as this one would have been worthy of at least a moment of time to stare and reflect on Azeroth and all
her beauty. The harpy Rathtalon did not have that luxury, her sister Serena had summoned her to look
over a new hatchling, as Rathtalon approached she could clearly see what was wrong with the hatchling
it was…male.
Serena looked at Rathtalon coldly. Rathtalon did not return the glare but instead looked at her clawed
feet solemnly.
“Whose is responsible for this…this…thing.” Serena spat out the last word like a slimy ichor; he words
covered the ground where the hatchling sat unprotected.
Rathtalon looked up at Serena her hatchmate they were exact copies of one another, for their entire
lives they had almost been one being. It wasn’t until their third sister, Bloodfeather, was slain by the
mongrel Rexxar that Rathtalon began to notice a change in her sister.
Serena became more guarded and warlike. She ordered attacks on Horde Caravans and earned a
bitter resentment from many of the Horde’s soldiers. Recently she had began to spread her hate to
the nearby sect of the Shadow Council known as the Burning Blade, then she attacked the Silverwing
Sentinels who wandered too far into the Barrens.
Now her rage had sequestered itself to a harmless child whose only crime was being born. Rathtalon
pondered the fate of the child should she intervene to save a life or would be better to let the rage of
Serena take it like all the other lives she had stolen.
Finally Rathtalon realized that Serena was still waiting for an answer. Rathtalon drew what she believed
would be her last breath and spoke.
“I am.”
For a moment the air held its breath and even the newly risen Elune stopped to gleam over Rathtalon
and what might be her last moments in this life.
“You? You are responsible for this? This damnation of our people?”
Serena was right for generations the harpies had been a people of eternity every harpy was an exact
copy of a previous harpy. The harpies never changed and were bound only by tradition. Now that was
falling apart and apparently “damning” them as well.
Rathtalon spoke calmly “Yes I am, I am the mother of this child, he is my son. I do not know how else to
say it. I will accept whatever fate you deem suitable for both of us.”
Serena looked at her sister Rathtalon. If Rathtalon had hatched first she might have been the one
leading the tribe instead of Serena. Serena looked up at Elune and the Blue Child and wished vainly for
guidance.
“If that is indeed your…” Serena struggled for the word, “offspring, then so be it. Maybe our maker
has given us a new path or maybe the whispers have come for you. Your child may lead us into the
pantheon or the nether, but whatever comes for us all, we will know it started with you.”
Rathtalon stared motherly at her child and her sister knew the message had been delivered.
Suddenly the contemplative silence was broken as an evidently stricken harpy came towards them.
“Sisters! A band of centaurs approaches!”
Rathtalon and Serena left the infant in the care of the harpy and raced toward the entrance of the Dry
Hills, but were stopped by a most unusual site.
“What is that?” Rathtalon asked.
“They’re waving a white flag.” Serena commented.
***
Warlord Krom’zar was disappointed in his leader. The five centaur tribes needed no allies to reclaim The
Barrens and Desolace and whatever else they wanted. The Pariah’s decision was madness. Still there
was a power in the voice of the Pariah that demanded respect.
The Pariah also coddled an amulet around his neck; Krom’zar suspected this had something to do with
his power. Though now was not the time for idle speculation now was the time for the deadly world
of…politics. Krom’zar admitted he was lost in this battle.
The delegate of the Son’s of Zaetar, Krom’zar, had been talking with the two harpies for most of the
night.
“We come in peace.” Krom’zar managed to stutter the phrase again; he was having trouble
understanding why he was compelled to mention the obvious.
Serena was still puzzled by his appearance but her skill in speechcraft obviously outweighed his “Your
flag states that you surrender. I didn’t realize we were at war.”
Once again it was Krom’zar’s turn to be confused, “I am unaware of any symbols involving defeat,” he
explained.
“Or peace.” Rathtalon commented.
“We are a people of war.”
“Which begs the question why are you waving a flag of defeated or peace?” Serena mocked.
“The five centaur tribes of Kalimdor have united under a former pariah in order to push our various
enemies out of Desolace and reclaim it for the sons and daughters of Zaetar.”
“While I am sure you will attempt to accomplish that I do not see how this involves the Witchwing
Harpies.”
“What we have learned with the unification of the centaur tribes is that the more is always stronger
than the few.”
“What great intellect you show.” Serena commented.
“We now wish to spread our conquest to The Barrens in order to further strengthen our hold on this
land.”
“Sounds like you have the wrong flag.” Serena gritted her teeth.
“We wish for you to join us in the conquest of The Barrens.”
“Is that so?” Rathtalon stated with a barely concealed tone of skepticism.
“Yes, if you wish to announce a truce and look towards a new beginning then you should meet my
tribesmen at the Lushwater Oasis two days from now. We will be waiting from the early morning to
the end of the night. Be prepared this offer has been extended to the quilboar as well. We hope to
establish a new group in the defense of the Barrens.”
“And elsewhere?”
“We’ll see what the future holds.”
With those words the group turned to see the last of Elune as she was slain by An’she.
***
Rojmane stood on a ledge overlooking Razorfen Kraul. As An’she rose high above the mass of thorns
and bones he could almost hear the voice of Agamaggan, the quilboar creator, whispering to him, yet
as he was about to make out the message he was interrupted by a high pitched shriek coming from the
Kraul. Undoubtedly it was the final dying yelp of another quilboar as it succumbed to the Scourge.
The Scourge’s eventually betrayal of the Death’s Head Tribe led to a split in the creating city creating
both Razorfen Kraul and Razorfen Downs two sides of the same city, constantly at war. Rojmane shook
his head in disappointment and what his people had become.
As Rojmane watched the sun burn the last of the night away he was joined by a second quilboar.
This new comer was not of the Bristleback Tribe but instead hailed from their enemies, the dreaded
Razormane.
“Hello Rojmane.” The shadowy figure grunted.
Recognizing his voice Rojmane turned and faced the quillboar, “Hello Mangletooth,” Rojmane
responded.
“I hear you seek to retake Razorfen.”
“I hear you are dead.”
“Well put, but at least let my curiosity be satisfied is it true?”
“Yes.”
“Is this the for your father’s honor?” Mangletooth asked.
Rojmane stared a seething hatred into Mangletooth’s eyes. It was true the Rojmane’s father had been
lost to a half breed orc by the name of Rexxar but why was Mangletooth bringing it up?
Before Rojmane could respond to Mangletooth’s statement a trio of adventurers appeared behind
them.
“I will have to answer your question later,” Rojmane sternly stated.
An undead hurled a dagger at Mangletooth’s forehead while his orc and tauren counterparts rushed
Rojmane.
Rojmane grunted and drew energy from the ground around him, as he did Mangletooth drew an axe
and deflected the dagger. Rojmane felt Azeroth pulsate around him and used the heart beat of the
land to direct energy into his fingertips. Mangletooth turned to see Rojmane extend his hands and let
loose a volley of power from the ground. A great schism opened up and a rock elemtal climbed from the
ground. The stunned undead was caught off guard as Mangletooth unleashed a river of lava from thin
air.
Where the small undead once stood was instead a raging fire elemental. Rojmane used his elemental
mastery to direct the rock elemental to fuse with the fire and create a new power. The tauren and orc
began to back off of the edge but it was too late the elemental charge scorching them with fire.
The duo fell off the ledge and broke at the bottom.
“I see what you did with those bloodshards you collected over the years.” Rojmane noted.
“I see why you are known as the Worldbreaker.” Mangletooth stated impressed.
“Please don’t call me that.”
“Why?”
“I believe that one day that name will belong to someone else.”
***
Rathtalon looked over her small child, the early morning rays of light made him look helpless and
weak. Rathtalon ignored the light but instead stared into her son’s eyes and saw the beating heart of a
warrior.
“Rathtalon! Rathtalon!” The cry ripped was torn from the sky above.
A bloodied hapry landed between Rathtalon and her child, “Rathtalon,” she managed to sputter
out “Come quickly… your sister…” before the young harpy could finish she fell to the ground revealing
the grievous wound on her back.
Rathtalon hung on the harpy’s dying word, she summoned her energy and flew into the sky streaking
toward her sister’s position but as she arrived she knew she was too late. On the ground the crumpled
body of Serena Bloodfeather laid beaten and bloody. An orcish axe still buried itself deep into her head.
Rathtalon looked up towards the sky and let out a cruel scream of agony as the twisting nether stole the
last life from her beloved sister. Now the last surviving hatchling from her nest, Rathtalon was in charge
of the Witchwing Harpies. In her attempt to let all of the world know it she screamed her painful scream
that twisted and contorted itself into the very heart of The Barrens where it was buried with the body of
Serena deep in the Earth Mother, where all beings must return to eventually.
No matter if they were the quillboar who rose from the blood of their demi-god, the centaur who were
the bastard children of an unholy union, the murlocs who crawled up from the one they called the deep
mother, the gnolls who fell down from the mountains, or even the lowly kobolds who crawled through
the deep for their entire lives, all things must end and end they do. That was the message of the day for
Rathtalon.
***
Warlord Krom’zar stared into the midday sun. He held his hand up to the light, something in the distant
had screamed but he did not need to concern himself with the distant troubles of others. As Krom’zar
walked in sync with his troops he looked at their faces.
Over the last few days the Horde had begun a massacre of the centaur in The Barrens. Krom’zar had
walked upon camp after camp finding children mourning parents and the leadership of each camp
had been completely obliterated. The children were spared only to succumb to starvation or the wild
animals who roamed the Barrens.
The kodos had rampaged through the camp destroying food and shelter. The hyenas had ripped the
corpses of the dead to shreds and the raptors stole what was ever left. It did not surprise Krom’zar that
many of his newly acquired soldiers still bore fresh wounds from days of thankless fighting against the
Horde.
Krom’zar split his force in half in order to provide the severely weakened survivors with adequate
protection to survive a trip to Desolace. Krom’zar had considered asking the harpies for help but he
didn’t want to burden any possible allies, at least not preemptively.
Now as the convoy marched tirelessly on through the blistering heat of the desert Krom’zar spied a
new challenge on the horizon. A lone orc outpost that would have held little to no consequence to the
centaur was now surrounded by several groups of Horde soldiers.
A mixture of troll, tauren, and orc soldiers blocked the centaurs’ from advancing. Krom’zar was afraid
that he already knew their intentions but decided to ask them anyway. He set down his flag and
marched forward.
Before Krom’zar could speak though an axe was hurled toward him and struck down the young centaur
next to him. As she fell to the ground Krom’zar rushed next to her and knelt by her side. She spit out
blood from her mouth and looked up at the old Warlord. Krom’zar saw the light drain from her eyes and
new her soul was lost to the void.
The orc who appeared to be there leader laughed whole heartedly at the centaur’s folly. This enraged
Krom’zar who turned to face the orcs.
Krom’zar stood before the onslaught of the Horde and swore that even if his life was lost this day many
would be impaled on his spear for the entire Horde to see. This was the vengeance of the centaur,
brutal, cunning, and final.
The centaurs charged towards the soldiers of the Horde all of them knowing their fate was fixed.
***
Hogger paced back and forth on the deck of the ship. The rain slicked his fur down turning what was
usually an imposing figure into a miserable wet pup.
Yshmeel chuckled to himself as he looked upward toward the billowing storm clouds that we’re bursting
overhead. The only other figure on deck was Goldtooth, who stumbled back and forth in an attempt to
avoid vomiting on his protectors’ shoes.
Yshmeel toddled over and placed a caring fin on Goldtooth’s shoulder stopping the kobold from falling
off the edge and into the Deep Mother.
Goldtooth looked up and whispered “Thank you.”
Yshmeel gave a toothy grin, “You did bargain for your protection.”
“Not from this bandersnatch, but from you Yshmeel.”
Yshmeel blinked his eyes in confusion, “Hogger has sworn to protect you as well.”
“I doubt he will.”
Yshmeel lifted a fishy eye to the brave statement by the cowardly kobold “What proof do you have of
that?”
“How much of Hogger’s history do you know?”
Yshmeel shrugged admittedly he didn’t know much about his new partner.
“Hogger was one of the worst criminals in Elwyn Forest, he killed several members of the Stormwind
Guard until he was eventually captured. Then on the eve of his execution he organized a prison wide
riot and escaped with the Riverpaw Gnolls. Afterward he fled to the Redridge Mountains where he took
over a second tribe of gnolls. During this time he entered into a loose truce with Edwin VanCleef, leader
of the Defias Brotherhood. That is how he knew about The Deadmines and the ship hidden within.
Hogger’s hunger was not sated with taking over simply the Defias Brotherhood that is why he recruited
you and keeps a close eye on me. He had already begun setting up deals with the Bloodsail Buccaneers
and The Syndicate. At least the last time I broke into his journal that was what he was talking about.”
Yshmeel’s eyes narrowed suspiciously and he lowered his voice “Wait, Hogger knows how to read and
write? And you can read?”
“Goldtooth shuddered angrily “This is not the time to make obvious jokes.”
“So Hogger is a bad guy, he is not a criminal mastermind.”
“I want you to be careful for when he goes to chop off your head, I’ll be next on the block.”
“So this is really about your own survival.”
“I’m surprised Yshmeel, you have not guessed? Everything is about my own survival that is the life of a
kobold.”
Goldtooth turned and walked away into the rainstorm, the black droplets of water swirly around at his
feet. Yshmeel trailed the droplets with his eyes till he centered on a small rectangular object. Yshmeel
walked over and knelt down over the object. The object was clearly bound in leather but not from an
animal that he recognized as Yshmeel picked it up to study closer then dropped it. The book was bound
in the hides of kobolds perhaps Goldtooth’s grievances did in fact have some merit. Yshmeel bent down
and picked it up a second time, burned deep into the cover was a single name, Hogger.
“What’ca ya got there?” Hogger asked as he walked over.
Upon seeing the book Hogger snatched it from Yshmeel. With a growl Hogger turned away and walked
down the deck his fur billowing in the harsh winds. Yshmeel respect Hogger’s dissidence and did not
turn to watch him leave but instead spied a trio of gnolls tossing dead over the edge.
“I am Yshmeel, I am Yshmeel,” the murloc began a short prayer to his goddess, Lady Darkscale hoping
her restless spirit would save him.
***
Rathtalon sat on a large boulder and waited at the Lushwater Oasis. The window blew across the small
lake and allowed her to smell the approach of the centaur. As she turned to face them she was shocked
it was not Warlord Krom’zar but instead a small young centaur who stepped out from the trees. Her
amber body was covered in purple runes and bound in blue cloth. A silk veil covered the lower part of
her face, only letting her fierce blue eyes pierce through the cloth.
Rathtalon spoke first “Forgive me but I was expecting…”
“Warlord Krom’zar? Barak Kodobane? Verog? I am sorry but all of the centaur leaders of the Barrens
have died. Only I remain.” The mysterious centaur women responded.
“Then I suppose this meeting is now irrelevant.” Rathtalon pushed herself off the rock but was stopped
when the centaur placed her hand on Rathtalon’s shoulder.
“On the contrary this truce is more important than ever. If our two people are ever to survive in The
Barrens…”
“Three.” A snarled voice broke its way into the conversation.
“Excuse me? Who are you? And what right do you have to be here?” Rathtalon asked of the
mysterious newcomer.
The newcomer stepped before the two delegates and looked upwards at both of them “My name is
Rojmane, representative of the quillboar. And who are you two?”
“Rathtalon,” responded Rathtalon.
“My name is Wyneth, wife of Verog leader of the Kolkar.”
Rojmane studied both of the ambassadors.
“Then might I suggest dear ambassadors we move our meeting elsewhere? The recent losses we have
all sustained at the hands of the Horde may continue if we stake out here much longer.”
“Who are you to command me?” Rathtalon interjected.
“Because of this,” Rojmane rolled the head of Warlord Krom’zar across the ground “It was delivered to
my camp outside of Razorfen Kraul, at the very least it states that the Horde knows of our intentions.”
“And that they could be on their way here.” Wyneth finished.
“Yes the dying messenger who accompanied that head stated as much.” Rojmane stated bluntly.
***
The massive ship lurched forward; the crest of the wave broke, and the ship was sent tumbling
downward. The storm had ended abruptly as it had started; leaving the small crew in the after current.
The black clouds broke overhead; a small scythe of light broke free of their grip and crashed downward
on the foreign shore.
“Kalimdor,” whispered Hogger.
“Yes,” responded Yshmeel.
Even Goldtooh managed to crawl out of the hold to look at the new shore. The kobolds eyes glowed
and for the first time Yshmeel noticed a small glimmer of hope behind them. The ship gave another
groan and then bolted for the jagged shore of Kalimdor.
The final wave lifted the boat up and smashed in on the rocky coast. The impact flung Hogger from his
perched and onto the rocky beach.
“Well that landing could have been more graceful,” Hogger mumbled to himself as he pushed off from
the ground.
A large stave smashed Hogger back into the sand and as he poked his head up, he saw a small patrol of
five orcs looking down on him.
“Lok-Narash,” ordered the leader of the group of orcs.
As the orcs drew their weapons the leader gestured for the rest of the crew to vacate the ship.
Yshmeel jumped over the side and watched the mess of kobolds stumble out to the feet of the orcs.
As the kobolds fell to their knees before the orcs, Goldtooth remained standing and looked the leader in
the eye.
“What are you doing?” Hogger whispered angrily.
“Don’t you feel it? Azeroth is changing.” Goldtooth smirked back.
“Gezzno No’gor? Re’ka ko kil uruk.” The orc leader directed his words at Goldtooth.
“The orc agrees with me, he believes it is silly to die here.” Hogger added.
Goldtooth flashed his yellow smile at the orcs and drew his pick axe. The orcs in turn laughed and
prepared to slaughter the defiant kobold. That was until the largest kobold Goldtooth had ever seen
burst from the ground behind the orcs. The orcs turned just in time to be sent tumbling into the deep
mother as a boulder ripped into their group knocking them over the heads of the rabble and into the
Deep Mother.
Two orcs disappeared beneath the waves but the remaining three managed to keep their footing. The
mighty kobold continued to charge forward and the orcs standing in the shallow water were met with
a large shovel that smacked across their face sending them backwards. The large kobold smashed the
shovel into the ground in favor of dual pickaxes, which he flung into the heads of two more orcs.
The final orc stared the kobold in the eyes as the kobold charged forward wielding only a large stone,
the orc attempted to dive out of the way but the kobold struck to fast and brought the orc down with
one swing of the rock. The orc’s final death twitches were seen as the kobold tossed the limp body into
the dark abyss.
“Who are you?” Yshmeel managed to stutter out.
Goldtooth looked at Yshmeel and smiled slyly. “His name is Noggrin Onetooth the greatest kobold
warrior to ever live.”
The small group stood for a moment staring at the mighty warrior who appeared to dwarf the orcs and
wondered what great force had provided him here?
***
Rojmane’s feet pulsed with blood. The long march from the Lushwater Oasis to the Razormane Grounds
in Durotar was not something Rojmane had ever wished to do. This situation was unique though, with
many of the quilboar’s towns under constant siege by the Horde the Razormane Grounds was still safe.
Only because that the fool assigned to dismantle this small outpost was just that, a fool. Rojmane
chuckled to himself about the oversight of the Horde.
Rojmane stopped on a hill overlooking Durotar. This land was the Horde’s, there was no question to
that. Still a few lights glinted in the dusk and Rojmane knew his people still stood.
Rathtalon moved to join Rojmane on the hill and soon they were accompanied by Wyneth.
“Is this your secret hideout?” Wyneth asked revealing her distaste for the troublesome journey.
“I still do not understand why we didn’t retreat to the Dry Hills. It was much closer.”
“That is why the Horde will be looking for us there, instead of this insignificant outpost.” Rojmane
countered.
“Then why are we not there defending it from the Horde?” Rathtalon asked suddenly worried.
“My second, Mangletooth, took the quilboar and remain to centaur to defend the Dry Hills, they will be
safe. The Horde will take too many losses if it attempts to invade.”
Wyneth sighed heavily then started down towards the Razormane Grounds.
Rojmane followed hoping that this meeting would be a success. The past few days had taught him
that in order to survive the coming days these new allies would have to last. The quilboar held up a
small light at the outside of the grounds, it took a few seconds but finally a second light was held up in
response. Rojmane beckoned for the group to follow and they obeyed but as he stepped within earshot
of the camp a small quilboar came rushing out.
“I am sorry travelers but we are having some difficulty providing the necessary accommodations for you.
Do you mind waiting out here for a moment?”
Rojmane was stunned this was not the quilboar way. What were they hiding?
Rathtalon tilted her head to look at the strange sight, to recover ground Rojmane began walking forward
towards the center hut without acknowledging the minor distraction. Once Rojmane stepped inside the
he saw a different story.
Inside a group of gnolls, murlocs, and kobolds sat surrounding a rather large kobold that was taller than
even Rathtalon. The gnolls and kobolds were bandaging the large kobold who stared back at Rojmane
with his yellow eyes.
“What is the meaning of this where is Captain Flat Tusk?” Rojmane demanded.
Captain Flat Tusk strode into the room acting almost unaware of the various strange creatures in his
domain.
“Who are these people?” Rojmane again demanded.
“Who are these people?” Captain Flat Tusk responded by gesturing towards Rathtalon and Wyneth.
“Allies.” Rojmane snarled.
“Then I guess that is what you could call these people.” Captain Flat Tusk replied smoothly.
“Well then do you mind telling me who they are?”
“We have voices we can speak for ourselves.” The red and black murloc stated.
“Then who are you?” Rathtalon demanded.
“My name is Yshmeel, leader of the Murlocs. I have taken my people from the sea and onto the land
and soon into the hearts of all of the continents.”
The gnoll stepped up behind him “I am Hogger, leader of the Defias Brotherhood, and the various gnoll
tribes of Azeroth. This is my second in command Goldtooth.”
Both Goldtooth and Yshmeel scoffed at Hogger’s blatant exaggeration but let it slide.
Goldtooth quickly added “And this is Noggrin Onetooth the leader of all kobolds for he is the greatest
one of us to have ever lived.”
Rojmane glared suspiciously to the large kobold but before Rojmane could question him the kobold rose
to his feet and stated “Yes I am Noggrin Onetooth but I will not lead the kobolds for much longer. A few
years ago I was injured in a battle with Rexxar the champion of the Horde. He wounded me so severally
they I am not at the last of my strength. I will leave that burden to you Goldtooth for you have already
shown me your strength by making a journey few kobolds would dare to even attempt.”
Before Goldtooth could accept Rathtalon interrupted “I am sorry but did you say you were injured by
Rexxar?”
“Yes why?” Noggrin asked.
“He killed my sister.” Rathtalon responded.
“He also murdered by people.” Rojmane added coldly remembering his father.
“He killed one of the murloc gods, Lady Darkscale” noted Yshmeel.
“And slew dozens of my comrades.” Wyneth stated solemnly.
The group turned to look at Hogger, “I am sorry but my people have had no experience with this Rexxar
you speak of.”
“You should count yourself lucky, he buried my comrades and I alive. Rexxar is not to be
underestimated. His cruelty in killing his enemies is only matched by how many he kills.” Noggrin said.
The other races nodded in agreement.
“It is time then that we band together to stop this monster, and the Horde he champions, from
destroying us. We can’t let the Horde decimate us, or any of our other enemies who are just waiting
in the shadows to pick the flesh from our bones. It is time to we band together to stop this.” Rojmane
looked at each representative hoping to get some response from them.
Rathtalon was the first, “I agree, I have lost both of my sisters to the Horde and countless friends. Their
blood is still fresh in the ground and yet the Horde has the audacity to attempt to push me from my
home? I will not let this stand I will offer my tribe and any other tribe of harpies I encounter in order to
fight the Horde.”
Wyneth looked around and pulled down her cloth mask, tears streaked from her eyes. “My husband,
my children, my tribe was slaughtered mercilessly by the Horde no matter where we choose to settle. I
second the motion to band together or will surely die.”
Hogger stood up and looked around “Though I have no encountered your Horde, the Alliance in the
Eastern Kingdoms unlawfully locked me in a cage. There I was starved and beaten. Over the long years
in prison I watched my friends die a slow painful death. If I help you, will you fight the Alliance with me
and bring freedom to my people?”
Goldtooth rolled his eyes at the conclusion of Hogger’s spiel.
“Yes,” Rojmane agreed, “What about you Yshmeel? And Goldtooth?”
“I agree my people will need help when we venture inland, if the Horde and Alliance are as terrible as
you say then we would be happy to provide any assistance if your war against them.”
“I will also offer the kobolds’ aid we have often been afraid of the light but now it is time to face the
great candle in the sky and take the day.”
Rojmane looked around the small hovel and realized that this was in fact what he had been hoping for.
Finally his people would be able to take the fight to the Horde and whoever else would attempt to take
their lands from them. Though right now they looked like a rabble group of strays they would rise and
take back the Barrens and eventually all of Kalimdor.
With their allegiances pledged Rojmane laid a map out on the table and prepared the new faction for
the coming war.
(Eh?)
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