World of Warcraft: Wolfheart Page 0,1

punctuated the shrieks. The orcs near the opening stepped back as something liquid sprayed them. A ghastly stench immediately followed, filling their noses.

“Spears! Spears!” Briln roared again as he neared. The captain looked up. The torchlight enabled him to see the rip in the tarp and the bent bars. Those bars had been forged strong; even with all his might, the gargantuan beast had been unable to do more than pull the bars just a little farther apart. Unfortunately for the two guards, that had been quite sufficient.

“Where’s the powder?” Briln demanded to no one in particular.

Another orc finally rushed up with a burlap sack the size of a thick fist. He also wore a coarse cloth over his mouth and nose and handed one just like it to Briln, who used the two strings attached to the piece to secure it to his own face. The mask was merely a precaution. Nothing from the sack should have ended up in either Briln’s nose or mouth, but there was no sense in taking unnecessary chances.

The captain was tempted to let the other orc do the task, but then he seized the sack himself. From within the nearby cage, sickening ripping sounds continued.

“Cover me!” The captain positioned himself, then studied the gap carefully. Although he had lost the one eye years ago in battle in Kalimdor against the Alliance forces commanded by the human Admiral Proudmoore, Briln still prided himself on his expert aim.

Taking a deep breath behind the cloth mask, the scarred orc tossed the pouch toward the gap.

The wind gusted, and for a moment Briln was filled with fear that the sack would miss entirely. However, it just barely made the edge of the rip, then fell into the obscured cage.

A moment later the captain heard a small, soft thump. The beast within let out a distrusting rumble. There was the sound of chewing. A slight mist of powder exited the tear, but not enough to concern the orcs. The wind carried away what little escaped, dispersing it.

Inside the covered cage, something heavy and moist dropped. Briln knew it to very likely be what was left of the guard. Despite that, the sound gave the captain more hope that his plan had succeeded.

A confused grunt arose from the shrouded creature. Suddenly, the cage shook harder. Inside, a huge form slammed against the bent bars. Heavy breathing arose near the tear in the tarp, but nothing could be made out clearly in the tear itself.

The breathing became labored, exhausted. The orcs heard stumbling.

Then there came a violent thud. The cage shuddered and almost slipped again. Only the strength of nearly two dozen struggling orcs kept that from happening.

Briln and the others waited several tense moments, but there was no renewed movement or sound. With caution, the captain approached the covered cage. Becoming more daring, he prodded the tarp.

Nothing happened. Briln exhaled in relief, then turned to the others. “Load that thing aboard, then get those bars bent back and that hole covered with something! Better make sure that there’s always a sack of that herb concoction the shaman gave us ready to sprinkle on the thing’s food! We can’t afford this on the seas!”

The other orcs moved to follow his orders. The captain studied the silhouettes of the other ships. Each contained such a cage. The new warchief Garrosh had commanded that this venture be completed, regardless of the cost in seeing it done. Briln and the others here had not questioned that cost, either, for all would have readily perished for the legendary overlord of the Warsong offensive. Garrosh’s deeds were epic and retold over and over in the Horde. He was also the son of the late Grom Hellscream and had been an advisor to Thrall, the orc leader who had freed their people from captivity.

Yes, no matter how many lives it had already cost and would likely cost by the time the fleet reached its destination, it was all worth it to Briln and the others. The Horde was at last within grasp of its destiny. It had the vitality, the drive, that this altered Azeroth deserved. Those who had held power so long in the world had become decadent . . . too weak and soft. The Horde—and especially the orcs—would finally stake its claim on the more lush regions that it needed not only to survive but finally to thrive as it had long deserved.

This recent Cataclysm, so Garrosh had impressed upon his people, was