There were few things more beautiful than the sight of snow covered mountains. The cold air and the white coat truly made him feel like home, and blurry memories of his childhood returned to him. There he was, playing with his mother's wolves, and yanking the dense fur of his father's mighty companion. He didn't relate snow with the day he was kidnapped, stripped from his family's warmth. An even though he spent many years with his mother, Otka Wolfkin's honor and will to live had been removed from her. Dunris was the only reason she kept struggling, clinging to this life with ferocity; but each passing day, he could see her eyes losing their glint little by little.
But no, he didn't recall those dark days when he witnessed the beauty of the snow. The cold mountains meant that there was always water available, and no one ever suffered from thirst or harsh heat. Few orcs had ever died to low temperatures, as their thick skin protected them from the most frigid of winds. He didn't recall to their hard campaign at Northrend; instead he reminded the moment they had been victorious over the Scourge. Definitely, to Dunris and his brothers, snow meant happiness.
Even if that white mantle was covering the lands of Dun Morogh, one of the bastions of Alliance Territory. The entire region was inhabited by dwarves and gnomes, but to be honest, Wolfeye did quite enjoy the company of those people. Especially dwarves; they knew their drinking, they had an amazing sense of humor, and mostly, they never ran away from a fight. They were the first enemy race that Dunris had learned to respect; over the years, he had stopped considering them an enemy race at all.
As they approached the coastline of Dun Morogh, the Shaman could feel the tension of his allies. In order to stick to the plan, Osmond had to leave his precious ship behind, as it was impossible to conceal an entire Forsaken boat. Instead of that, everyone was on board of the La Suerte, and Syla's ship was working better than ever; even the Kul Tiras woman seemed to enjoy to see her ship work at full capacity. She had a crew of twenty people, while Osmond's men were thirteen, including himself. And with the full group of Ambassadors, the La Suerte had plenty of manpower to tend to its many tasks.
"Be careful, we don't have to seem suspicious", Argheros warned. "Dwarves are incredibly vigilant of their lands, grazing the paranoia", he added.
"Don't worry, honey", Syla answered with a bold and adventurous voice; she was clearly in her zone. "Leave this to me. If anyone catches us, I'll pay the drinks", her entire crew cheered. "Shut up, you idiots! Even if you morons manage to get ourselves caught, you still have to be alive to drink!"
The journey through the Great Sea had been complicated, for they had had to sort many Horde flagships, storms and sea monsters, only to enter the Maelstrom area. Even though Wolfeye was quite familiar with that zone, the tempest was constantly a threat, punishing every ship that dared cross its waters. Syla had decided to take that route in order to avoid any possible fleet, Horde or Alliance alike, as both factions wouldn't risk losing any ship. But she was different, and she was certain that the La Suerte could sort any obstacle. Dunris felt grateful that she had decided to join their cause.
When they emerged, once again they had to face flagships, only Alliance ones this time, and more sea monsters. And after crossing the dangerous Vashj'ir zone, they had finally arrived on more calm waters. Of course, they were really close to Stormwind and its mighty harbor, so now they had to stop being bold and start being extremely careful. Fortunately, Syla was talented enough to be both.
Dunris had to admit it: he was expecting that something came up at any moment. Things had been going pretty well for them besides the several troubles they encountered during their journey to the east. If there was anything that the Shaman was certain about, it was that good fortune never lasted forever. At any moment, he awaited a band of gryphon riders to swoop down on them all of a sudden, without giving them time to react. He would've liked to be more gifted regarding his far sight, but his visions were fickle at their best.
In addition, everything was so incredibly quiet. Suspiciously calm, just like the moment before an ambush... but nothing happened. Syla's talent for sailing wasn't the only factor keeping them safe: she had a Dun Morogh dwarf within her crew called Maretha, who knew her birthplace coastline like the palm of her hand. The dwarven territory didn't have a port, nor a port city, and with the destruction of Menethil Harbor, there was almost no nautical activity. Maretha's self confidence was unsettling for Dunris, but the orc tried to convince himself over and over again that their fate was in the best hands.
"Fun fact: we are just passing above the Deeprun Tram", Maretha said with a cheery voice after sailing for a while. "It's way down, at the bottom of the sea, and somehow the Cataclysm didn't even make a dent on the structure. You gotta admit it, Mekkatorque did an outstanding job with the entire machine."
"Gelbin Mekkatorque is the current High Tinker of Gnomeregan, and is also styled King of Gnomes", Gina added with enthusiasm.
"Yes, Gina, we know. We don't need the encyclopedia description for your precious Gelbin", the dwarf answered, with a less cheering voice this time.
"You can talk about the sea for an hour and I'm not allowed to talk about the greatest inventor there ever was and will be?!", the small gnome bursted in an outrage.
Wolfeye was well aware that humans found those small people cute and funny, but most of the time all he wanted to do to gnomes was punch them. In fact, Naurosh always hit them whenever he had a chance. But Dunris had a reputation as a Diplomat and a wise sage to maintain.
"Exactly, you can't", Maretha responded sharply.
"Fine!"
"Shut it, you two", Syla commanded, evidently sharing the orc's feelings. "We'll reach our destination within an hour or two. Get ready."
Precisely, just as they had safely reached the coasts of Dun Morogh, soon they gazed the shores of the Burning Steppes and the Searing Gorge on the horizon after passing through the Tram. The skies darkened a little bit as they approached the ashen desert, as the smoke coming out from Blackrock Mountain's voracious volcano started to engulf the clouds. To be more accurate, these regions didn't actually had a coastline. Instead, their "shore" was a high and edged cliff, with a faint curtain of ash falling to the sea. Dunris didn't really know if there would be an easy way of climbing it, but he expected the earthen spirits to aid him in crafting a stony staircase. After all, they weren't in a hurry or anything.
Reaching said cliff without suffering any kind of attack seemed incredibly suspicious to him, but he wasn't going to complain about it. The others seemed to be enjoying the peaceful trip, even though he was certain that Argheros felt the same way. The little twins helped ease the mood, but Wolfeye had admitted several times that he was concerned for their safety. The kids had recently lost their last grandparent, so Augustus and Marsha had no one to care for them, and Dunris felt a guilty responsibility for them. Sometimes, he thought that the entire spirit of the Embassy were those two little girls; when they saw Aega and Tyralin laugh and play, it became more clear than ever why they were pursuing those crazy dreams of peace.
"Well guys, here we are: the Burning Steppes", Syla announced. "It seems I don't have to pay for any drinks at all. I assume my crew and my newfound allies will be kind enough to pay their own share..."
"We never agreed that we would pay for your drinks...", Argheros answered.
"Have you no honor?!", she responded, faking that she was offended.
"Fine... I'll buy you a damned beer after we are done with all these", the Paladin uttered, with a big smile on his face. "Very well, Dunris, what now?"
"If you are patient, I will handle our ascension", the Shaman said. "I only need a couple of minutes to commune with the Earth."
"Try not to delay a lot", Syla asked for politely. "This rain of ash will end up ruining my ship!"
"I promise, I won't take long", Wolfeye assured.
He was quite skillful when it came to mastering the element of Earth. The Shaman didn't truly like Therazane, the Stonemother, for she was stubborn and arrogant. However, he had bonded with many of her sons and daughters, and most of the time they were willing to help him. Dunris excelled at Geomancy, a talent he had perfected as much as his mastery over the Winds. As a matter of fact, he called forth a powerful gust to keep Syla's ship safe from the ash, a gesture that the Kul Tiras sailor deeply thanked. When the boat was definitely protected, he started asking the Earth to create a stable staircase for them to climb. Wolfeye was aware that this element was quite fond of building and erecting different structures, and many earthen spirits found a deep joy in this activity. Sadly, not many Shamans stopped to listen to what this entities enjoyed to do.
Just like he promised, the entire stair was ready in a couple of minutes, in which everyone started to prepare themselves. Osmond and Syla played a dice game in order to decide who would stay behind with the ship. As fate would have it, the undead mad captain had to remain in the boat with the sailors, and the woman had to go ashore with the rest of the group. Augustus and Marsha were having a rough time trying to convince the girls of staying behind, but they weren't being successful. Argheros kneeled to meet the twins face to face and made their heads bonk softly.
"Don't be so headstrong!", he told them. "Mom and dad have very important things to do. Remember when they had to fight the bad monsters? This is the same!"
"But they said the big monsters were gone!", Aega complained.
"Yes, little one, they are gone indeed", the Paladin answered. "But there are more bad people out there and we have to make them stop harming good guys."
"Mamma said that you have to look for more orcs", Tyralin insisted. "Just like Korghan! And he isn't bad."
Dunris gave a quick look to his younger brother. Hollowheart's eyes were wide open, since he had always had a soft spot for children; but never before a human kid had said such things about him. Veelah was smiling next to him, and she gave the orc a gentle caress.
"Marsha, Augustus, you can stay if you want to", Wolfeye said after a second. "We are more than enough for the task ahead, and you have been away from them for quite too long."
"Are you sure?", the father asked with a hint of concern in his voice. "We don't want to miss our chance of helping..."
"There's plenty of work ahead, my friend", Argheros intervened, standing up. "And I think Dunris is right, maybe it's best that you take care of the twins. I know that a ship anchored at the Burning Steppes isn't the greatest place to raise children, but it's better than a battlefield."
"Very well then... we will stay", Augustus conceded. "Don't take too long."
"We won't. This expedition shouldn't take us more than a week or two. If we are lucky, we will return with more supplies, even though I think the ship is quite stocked up."
"Of course it is!", Syla interrupted.
"Perfect. May the Light guide you, friend", the Warrior stated, grabbing Argheros' forearm. "And you too, Wolfeye", he added, saluting with respect. "I hope your Blackrock orcs are more than willing to join us."
"I hope so too", Dunris answered, saluting as well.
Rescuing whatever may remain of the Blackrock Clan was a part of the plan that the Shaman had thought of over and over again. The rain of black stones he had witnessed in his dream could have thousands of meanings, but for some reason he had thought of the ancient clan. When he was an adept and spent most of the time training, he had been told that far sight wasn't clear all of the time. More often than what Shamans would like to admit, the meaning of each vision depended exclusively on what the Farseer interpreted. This was why wisdom was so important to them, and they spent many hours analyzing their sight. But instinct was also quite important as well, and Dunris had related the black stones with the Blackrock almost instantly.
Still, Goldsprout's question had been resounding in his head for quite a long time. "Why reach for the Blackrocks?". It was true that their Embassy needed some hands willing to fight for their cause, but, were those veteran orcs really the Warriors they needed? The help of the Taurajo Refugees, the Whiteclaw Clan and both Syla's and Osmond's crews was already incredibly valuable, even though they weren't so numerous. Dunris truly hoped that the might of the Blackrock orcs would suffice if they ever needed to fight, but he had to admit he was afraid that they wouldn't agree with the entire Embassy project. He had a solid argument to convince them: if they succeeded, the clan would finally have a safe home to live in.
Besides, there was one particular reason why Wolfeye was utterly interested in the Blackrock veterans: the clan's unrivalled resilience. Conflict after conflict, these orcs raised over and over again, only to be defeated or reduced. And they had done so without the help of any other clan. Garrosh Hellscream had also realized this when he was Warchief, and he had offered the beaten Blackrocks of the Burning Steppes a place in his Horde. Nevertheless, many had remained behind, and Dunris had always wanted to know why. Was it pride? Was it shame? Was it hatred? This was something that the Shaman was decided to find out.
Wolfeye was the first to climb his shamanic staircase, in order to check its stability and perfect its details, but in reality there wasn't much to perfect. The Earthen Spirits had helped him do an outstanding job, and he couldn't be more grateful. As he reached the top of the cliff, he could suddenly feel the hot winds of the Burning Steppes, and the mighty black volcano reappeared not so far in the distance once more. At its core resided the capital of the Dark Iron dwarves, who had recently joined the lines of the Alliance. Dunris knew that he and his group had to be extremely careful, but he hoped that the ashen mountains would provide enough shelter.
He supervised that each one of his allies reached the top of the cliff safely. Some of them started to explore their surroundings, since they were at an uninhabited and desolate part of the Burning Steppes. To be fair, the entire region was barren and harsh, but this place in particular was even more severe. Some of the explorers had to fight off a couple of vicious gigantic spiders, eager to devour any prey.
Besides Marsha and Augustus, other members of their group stayed with the ship, like Ushi, Gina and Lahelass. They were too busy with their own researches and tasks, and traveling through the Burning Steppes would only consume their precious time. Darandir also stayed behind, since the twins were thrilled with his music, and he had grown quite fond of them.
"It's been a long time since I didn't come this way", Degarok stated with a faint nostalgic voice. "Right downhill we would find the road to the dark Altar of Storms. And to the southeast, the field were my kin trained dragon whelplings."
"Enslaved, you mean", Ishgo corrected him with a sharp voice, with a hint of anger even; the orc stared at him and lifted an eyebrow.
"Yes, maybe that would be a more accurate term", Boulderwrath conceded, gritting his teeth. "In any case, I don't think the Blackrocks dwell in that place anymore. The Alliance destroyed the clan's presence to the north of Redridge mountains, and here at the Burning Steppes every orcish settlement should be in ruins or abandoned."
"We should start checking those settlements anyway", Argheros proposed. "Even if we don't find any of your kin, we may find some clues leading to their whereabouts."
"I agree, but I honestly think that every Blackrock orc remaining in the region will be living a hermit's life or hiding from Alliance scouts", Degarok continued, then he gave a quick look at Irondawn and narrowed his eyes. "Implying there are scouts, right?"
"There should be a couple of patrols", Tandren answered this time. "The people from Lakeshire are constantly demanding the Alliance High Command for more support, since they became increasingly paranoid after the Dark Horde almost conquered Redridge. After the Cataclysm hit our world, it became clear that all the efforts to contain the Blackrocks weren't paying off. Instead, they strengthened their ranks... this is why Lakeshire is constantly vigilant, fearful of another Blackrock insurrection."
"Well, if the clan has managed to recover once again, we should do everything we can to bring them to our side", Wolfeye said with a confident voice. "Tandren, Degarok, you two know the region the best. Do you think you can guide us safely through the mountains to the remains of Black Tooth Hovel?"
"Sure, I know my way through this lands", the young squire answered with a smile. "Moreover, we should be on our guard; as I told you, there's a presence lingering here..."
"Stop being so paranoid, boy. You are making me look bad", Drahna scolded him.
"Lead the way, please", the Shaman asked Tandren, ignoring Silverflame's comment. To be honest, he did not enjoy her constant harassment to her apprentice. If it was true that the Warrior had earned a place among the Valarjar, why treat him like a silly kid?
When they began marching, Dunris could see they were a small contingent of almost forty people, just enough to be a small warband. Any explorer would suspect of their intentions, which was why Marsha had tailored a small purple mantle for each one of them. If they were to be found, they had to act together in the most diplomatic possible way. Dunris and Argheros had spent a great deal of their time during the journey to the east preparing and training their allies. Not all of them were used to using diplomacy as a tool; they tried to be patient, but some of their Ambassadors were slow learners.
Craos and Veelah were naturals when it came to wielding words as a defensive weapon, and the Druids, Goldsprout, Thalanyr and Gabeh were also quite skillful. But Syla, for instance, had a lot of trouble in forgetting her old grudges.
The Kul Tiran captain had approached Wolfeye during their travel to the east, with one not so simple request: an explanation for what had happened at Theramore. Even though she knew the details, even though she had heard the tale over and over again, she wanted to hear it from him; she wanted to understand. Unfortunately for her, Dunris had shrugged, for he wanted the same answers.
"Syla, if the Bombing of Theramore would've been reasonable, we wouldn't be here together... ", he had tried to explain. "The main reason we are working on the Embassy Project is that these crimes are never going to end, unless we do something about it. We can't go back in time and save Theramore; we can't change what happened at Teldrassil; we can't fix the massacres at the Echo Isles and Camp Taurajo... but we can try our best to avoid such horrors to repeat."
After that conversation, Syla had finally relaxed among the company of Horde members. She began treating the Shaman nicer; she even wore the Embassy colors with pride. In fact, the purple and silver banner was flapping over the La Suerte's tallest mast. However, that didn't change the fact she was no diplomat at all.
Degarok too had his complications; he was an artist when it came to his greataxe, but he was quite ill-tempered most of the time. Drahna was just like him, and probably that was why the two of them got along so well. The blood elven sisters and the Bard Darandir had quite a lot of trouble in setting their elfic arrogance aside, but Anastriana was used to exhort and encourage others to join her cause.
It was her, precisely, the one who made a stop as they travelled through the hills. She was telling some words to her sister as she pointed something in the distance when Dunris approached her. He made the most of his enhanced shamanistic sight, and followed Anastriana's finger to see what she pointing out. There was an encampment where Degarok had identified the old whelping training grounds, and there were some figures moving around it.
"Who are they?", Wolfeye wondered.
"Can you see them?", the Blood Knight asked as well. "Boulderwrath, Tandren, do you recognize them?"
Both of them denied with their heads.
"Dunris, use your Far Sight and tell us what you see", Anastriana suggested.
"Strange...", the orc answered after narrowing his eyes. "There's a group of people, and they seem to be from various races. They have gray and orange robes... it's like a uniform. And...", he raised his eyebrows in surprise. "There are orcs!"
"What's going on down there?", Naurosh questioned as he approached Dunris, trying to see for himself.
"They are whiping the orcs!", Tandren shouted, looking into the distance through a spyglass. "We should stop them!"
"I agree, my friend! If those are Blackrocks, we should hurry to their help", Degarok added with a thundering voice.
"Remember what we've learned: don't engage them in combat unless they are clearly hostile", Irondawn reminded all of them. "We are Ambassadors, and our duty should be to put an end to any conflict peacefully."
Wolfeye's heart was pounding with strength. He had been in countless battles and combats, journeyed to the darkest corners of the world and faced the most dire of predicaments. But this was different. If the Alliance was hunting down the remaining Blackrock orcs, the Embassy first goal would be to put an end to this conflict. Dunris' mind was swarming with possible solutions to this problem, and at the same time he was trying to think what would they do if the Alliance opposed their intervention. He didn't want to fight them at all, and he counted on Argheros to have the same intentions. If anything went wrong, the two of them had to assume a leader's position to contain and protect their allies.
As they approached the camp, they could listen to the whip lashes cutting the air, and the unmistakable laments of a person suffering a torture. The Shaman took a deep breath, and turned to face his group of followers. He wanted to make sure they were standing in the formations they had practiced, alternating Horde members with Alliance members. But his face turned to horror as he saw several hooded figures appearing from nowhere, throwing all kinds of spells to them.
He reacted on time to intercept some of the attacks, but a few of his friends were reached by the assault. In no time, they assumed a defensive position and got ready for battle, raising any shields and barriers they could. However, their new enemies were throwing all types of magic spells, making it impossible to counter their offensive. Arcane magic, Nature magic, Divine magic, and even Necromancy, Fel magic and Blood magic. Next to Dunris, Razorhowl fell to the ground, alive but unable to move; once again, their aggressors were trying to capture them, not kill them.
"To hell with them! We are Azeroth!", Wolfeye shouted, calling down a massive lightning from the skies to strike at his foes.
He was used to fighting, and he wasn't willing to lose. They were in a clear disadvantage, but with a couple of smart moves they could turn the tides of the combat in their favor. The Paladins of the group were doing their best to maintain their protective barriers, and both Veelah and Ishgo were using their powers to recover their friends. The Whiteclaws had formed a circle to protect the rangers and spellcasters, deflecting any harmfull attack with their mystic abilities.
When it became clear that they had stabilized their position, their aggressors ceased their fire, knowing it was useless. Razorhowl and the ones that had fallen began to stand up once again, ready for combat. But their brief moment of ease wouldn't last for long: the ground around them began to tremble, and the stones and ashes took the shape of a great construct. Many times this spell was repeated, until the group of Ambassadors was surrounded by several of these colossi. A walking machine appeared from behind them; it was styled in the fashion of titan technology, and Wolfeye then realized that the walking statues were similar to the guardians many heroes had faced in Uldaman, Ulduar and other locations erected by the Titans themselves.
"Seize them!", a high pitch mechanical voice echoed in the air.
The army of constructs moved forward in a coordinated advance. Now they faced both these monsters and the spellcasters, making it impossible to succeed. Dunris called forth a gust of wind towards his allies, managing to slow his foes down.
"Retreat! We can't win this fight!", the Shaman commanded, hoping his comrades would listen to his words.
And then, chaos. The Ambassadors tried to run away, but the colossi wouldn't give up their pursue. Without a proper defensive formation, some of them fell victim to the paralyzing spells.
In that moment, time stopped around Wolfeye. He had to decide what kind of leader he wanted to be; he had dragged all those people to that place, because of his dreams and his intentions. And he wouldn't let them perish that easily.
"Storm!", he yelled as he turned back and leaped over the hand of a construct who was trying to grab Drahna; the stone exploded in a thousand pebbles, which Dunris controlled with his shamanic powers to form a stony elemental armor around his body.
The giant attempted to hit Wolfeye, but the attack only met the Shaman's mighty protection. The stones cracked and revealed their ignited magmatic core; Dunris smiled, for he was in control of this overheated magma. It wouldn't harm him, but it would wreak havoc among any enemy trying to hit him. However, he channeled all the lava pebbles to form a massive ball of magma, throwing it to the construct to finally destroy it.
Hoever, to his side, another colossus attempted to smash him, but a massive sword made of pure light fell from the skies and pulverized the statue. Irondawn had come to his aid.
"You should help the others escape!", Wolfeye told him as he bashed the ground with both his axes, creating a cracking fissure in a line in front of him.
"And leave you alone? Not in million years", the Paladin answered with a bold smile, shattering the legs of another construct with a sweeping strike- Fall back!- he yelled then to the rest of their companions -. We are being overwhelmed!
Indeed, their brief heroism wouldn't last for long. The colossi were tireless, and there was no chance they could reach the spellcasters. Several Whiteclaw orcs had tried to incapacitate them, but they hadn't been successful at all. And, eventually, even Dunris and Argheros were captured... but the Paladin was smiling.
"Syla managed to escape", he whispered, with clear satisfaction in his voice.
"So?", Wolfeye responded, breathing with trouble.
"She is used to running away, it's what she does best", Irondawn explained. "But she always comes back."