"Burning Blade, end these intruders!", Soratog yelled to his clansmen, with seething bloodlust coursing through his veins.
"You cursed mongrels, you will never defeat us!", a huge tauren responded, just as he smashed an orc's head against a stone, just with his bare hands.
Soratog smiled. He liked to take down bigger prey, to overpower creatures who seemed unconquerable. Even though he served Sargeras, he had rejoiced in hunting down the mightiest Demons. He didn't do it out of spite or treason; he did it because he thought many forces of the Burning Legion were inferior than him, like beasts and animals. To kill them, to meet them face to face and annihilate them, was nothing more than sport. And this new foe would prove to be quite entertaining.
He thought of Azeroth as an huge hunting ground, and he had never stopped hunting since he arrived on the world. Soratog had endured all of his clan's crisis, and he had managed to bring it back to life after many, many years of hard work. He had even survived a mighty blow of the famous Doomhammer, delivered by no other than Thrall himself. If he had lived through that, how could a simple tauren expect to bring him down?
"I will flay you, and then I'll cook you for supper", Soratog taunted. "He is mine!", he added with a powerful battlecry, warning his men to leave the beast alone.
This group of enemies had come out of nowhere, traveling in a mighty warband through the mountains. They weren't members of the Horde, nor the Alliance, as they were lead by the tauren, a Vrykul and, to his surprise, a Mogu. Their banners and tabards showed that they were members of the so-called Titanguard. Just as So'Eent had advised, Soratog and his allies hadn't moved against those azerothian fanatics, but now they were on Loyalist lands, and they had to pay for their intrusion. The orc was quite intrigued by them, but years of war experience had taught him that in order to interrogate an enemy, the leaders had to be killed first. Common soldiers broke down more easily, and the commanders were usually too proud or too loyal to their cause in order to speak.
His Blademasters had surrounded the enemy warband, and one by one the intruders were being slaughtered. They were fierce combatants, though, and Soratog had lost good men too. It was time to end the fight. He rushed towards the tauren, holding his ignited blade in the air, and then leaped over his opponent. His prey was faster than what it seemed at first sight, but not fast enough to avoid the orc's attacks. With a clean slice, one of the horns was cut in half.
The tauren counterattacked quickly, punching Soratog in the stomach with an unusual strength. He cursed inside, reproaching himself for not having seen the blow coming. And what was even worse, it felt as if all his ribs had been destroyed. When he landed, he could see that the fist and forearm of the tauren were completely encased in stone. Those stones weren't there a second before.
"Do you like what you see, orc?", the beast asked, showing the stony limb; Soratog realized that the arm wasn't covered by rocks at all, but the skin had turned to solid granite.
The Burning Blade Warlord stood up with some difficulty, as he heard how the Mogu crushed another of his clansmen with ease. He described two broad arcs with his flaming sword to gain some space between him and the tauren. He had underestimated his prey, but he wouldn't make the same mistake again. Soratog kindled the demon blood within his body, and he could feel how his speed and his strength increased tenfold. He began moving with an impressive celerity, and soon there was not one image of the orc, but three blurry mirrors of his own self.
The three Blademasters flanked the tauren Warrior in no time, who had no other choice but to block and parry each aggression. Soratog smiled, if the combat kept up like this, he would soon find a weakness he could exploit.
"Ato, down!", a thundering voice roared, and then the tauren fell quickly to the ground.
The orc dodged just in time the massive boulder that was thrown towards his destination. The vrykul had intervened in their duel, in the brief moment the other blademasters had given him an opening.
"We are wasting our time with these lot, let us hurry!", the mogu yelled. "Ato, Tanjörn, enough with this distraction!"
"You speak the truth, Qiung", the tauren responded, leaping backwards with a dexterity unfit for his size.
Soratog maneuvered to pursue, but the mogu smashed the ground and hundreds of earthen spikes emerged in front of the Burning Blade members. The orc spitted on the formation of stones.
"Is this how the mighty guardians of Azeroth fight?", the Warlord taunted, breaking the rocks with powerful blade cuts.
"We don't have time for you, orc", the mogu named Qiung answered. "We have been given a command, and when the Stone Triumvirate has its orders, its members stop at nothing to complete the quest."
"All I hear is more excuses!", Soratog shouted, but his opponents had already departed, leaving a trail of sharp rock spikes behind them. "Cowards!"
He had heard of the Stone Triumvirate, a group of chosen Warriors that communed with the Earth and had the favor of the Stonemother herself. He had never expected two of its members to be a vrykul and a mogu, which meant the Titanguard truly sought the help and alliance of all races native to Azeroth. But Soratog didn't care about that; all he cared at the moment was that an enemy had fled from a battle. How shameful! No orc would ever commit such an atrocious act of cowardice. Maybe it was for the best that the Titanguard hated Soratog's people.
"Chieftain, should we pursue them?", one of his clansmen asked. He was covered in blood and look severely injured, but that didn't stop him from offering his blade.
Yes, it's clear that we aren't weak azerothians, the orc thought with pride.
"No, they were careful enough to avoid us from following them. Let's return to the High Council, they would surely like to know what happened here", the Warlord commanded.
"Chieftain! We captured one of them before he could flee!", a woman yelled in the distance.
She and another Blademaster were carrying a beaten dwarf, who wasn't tied or handcuffed. Clearly, the two Burning Blades had broken him already. Perfect, that would make the interrogation so much easier. When they reached Soratog, they threw the prisoner to his feet, laughing and cheering.
"You have two options, little one", the Warlord said to the dwarf as he bent down next to the poor unfortunate one. "You live long enough to go insane, serving those you swore to destroy until your last day; or, you speak right now and die a quick, painless death."
The prisoner didn't answer, but Soratog waited patiently, sharpening his blade with slow and irritating moves. After a few moments, the dwarf babbled something inaudible.
"What was that, little one? I can't hear you", the Warlord then poked him with the tip of his blade. The remaining clansmen laughed out loudly.
"Chop his fingers!"
"That will make him talk!"
"Slice one of his eyes! He only needs one!"
"The hand! The hand!"
"Silence!", Soratog commanded, not angry, but with a big smile, sharing his comrade's amusement. "You were saying..."
"Kill... me...", the dwarf begged. "If you don't... Wilas will do it..."
"Ah, but your Wilas has to find you first", the Warlord contradicted. "Tell me what were you doing here, and you will have the death you desire."
"Heh... you'd like me to talk, wouldn't you?", the prisoner taunted, but then he coughed violently until he spit blood.
"Does anyone have a healing potion?", Soratog asked to his clansmen. "Thank you, Trugana", he said to the woman that had captured the Titanguard member.
The Warlord forced the beaten dwarf to drink, and he could see how the quick recovery took place: many wounds were closed, a couple of bruises went away, and the skin regained some of its tone. The potion wasn't strong enough to completely heal the captive, but it was enough to avoid his imminent death. For a second, there was a hint of gratitude in the dwarf's eyes, just before Soratog chopped his right hand off. Then, with a quick flip of his arm, the Warlord ignited his blade and cauterized the prisoner's injury. It all happened so fast that the poor captive took his time to begin yelling and screaming.
"What were you doing here?", the Burning Blade Chieftain repeated in a loud voice to be heard over the screams and the clansmen laughter.
"We were tracking a group of travelers!", the dwarf yelled, his eyes widely open and his sweat mixing with his blood. "The Archmage is interested in them! We had captured them but then they fled!"
"Who are these travelers that your Archmage sends the Stone Triumvirate itself to hunt them down?"
"I don't know! They are a mixed group of all the races! Several Paladins, a group of Monks and some Frostwolf orcs too!"
"Frostwolf orcs traveling with Alliance and Horde members alike... it would seem Ranuk did fail in his mission after all", Trugana commented with clear disgust in her voice. "Can we kill him now?"
"Not yet. How do you know they came this way?", Soratog asked this time.
"We didn't know! They fled to the Badlands and our scouts reported them taking a ship to the north from Fuselight-by-the-Sea! We figured that if we flew further to the north we could intercept them!"
"And that's how we got you... great. No useful information after all", the Warlord said with big disappointment. "Only that we have even more enemies to kill... Trugana, he's all yours. Do it quickly, I promised him a quick, painless death."
"But there's no fun in that!", she complained.
"Fine, I'll do it. I said I'll do it!", he repeated when he saw the woman was about to protest. "Luckily for you, I am a man of my word, dwarf. Your moronic Titanguard may consider my kind as an inferior form of life, but we aren't as fools as you are. We do believe you are worthy foes; and that's why you will lose. We won't make the same mistake as to underestimate you."
And immediately after he stopped talking, he cut the captive's head off. It was a clean cut, a perfect move that could be only achieved by a skilled and experienced Blademaster. Unlike many others who had been infused with demon blood, Soratog had a serene mind, and was able to control his bloodlust. That's how he had become the great hunter he was. And, sometimes, being such a great hunter meant you had to let your prey run away.
"Gather the corpses", he commanded. "Prepare the last rites for our fallen. As for the Titanguard... feed them to the wolves. Trugana, come with me."
"Yes, Chieftain."
"You mentioned Ranuk earlier", he started, as they began returning to their hideout at Twilight Highlands southern mountains; they had spotted their foes flying above their grounds, and the Loyalists had taken the intruders for Alliance easy targets. They were right next to Alliance territory after all. "Explain what you meant."
"A while ago we hosted a council in the Irontusk Hideout at Stonetalon, and a Warrior called Ranuk asked for a Warband to hunt down a couple of Frostwolves..."
"Yes, I remember. Peace lovers, according to him... So you believe the ones the Titanguard is chasing are the same that Ranuk tried to kill?"
"He never returned. We can only assume he didn't succeed."
"Frostwolf orcs are known for being more inclined to diplomacy with these azerothians", he said while distractedly rubbing the ribs that Thrall had broken so long ago. "But I remember that Ranuk mentioned only three brothers... if he failed, those three must be stronger than expected. And it worries me that the Titanguard is interested in them enough to send one of their most powerful group of Warriors to capture them."
They continued in silence, Soratog meditating what their next move could be. After the council Trugana had mentioned, they had focused their attention in undermining Horde and Alliance alike. Small victories, of course, and small defeats, like the one Ranuk had suffered. But if everything went as they had planned, the tide of battle would soon change in their favor.
A loud scream echoed in the mountains as they reached the hideout, indicating that everything was proceeding as expected. A human scream, to be more precise. They had stolen the idea from the Tianguard itself: just as those fanatics were experimenting on orcs, the Loyalists had began experimenting on azerothians. It had been Dyra's own sadistic idea, and her personal vendetta for what the people from Azeroth had done to the Legion.
Soratog entered the burrows, and the screaming intensified, filling the air with despair and hopelessness. The Burning Blade Warlord frowned; he disapproved human weakness. Most of them died because of the pain or the blood loss, sinking in a pit of extreme agony. And to think they were doing nothing to their souls! Dyra was just toying with their bodies.
And there she was, the Eredar Princess, so seductive, so arrogant, so cruel, so vicious, so magnificent in all of her demonic splendor. Volrok Irontusk didn't trust nor like her, but Soratog saw in her the mighty demon she was. That was what he desired: to achieve the demon status himself, just like the Eredar had left behind their mortality to become true members of the Burning Legion. He had proved his worth over and over, and yet, his craving ambition didn't come to pass.
"My brave Soratog", she greeted cheerfully; behind her, So'Eent emerged from the shadows and saluted with a quick bow of his head. "You are all covered in blood!", she added with fake concern, and then she run a finger through his chest and tasted the crimson liquid. "All kinds of it..."
"We intercepted a group of enemies", he explained, forcing himself to ignore the woman's lustful gesture. "Titanguard members, to be more precise."
"Oh, how interesting. And what were they doing here? Did they have any azerite on them?"
"No, nothing. But they were chasing some travelers who were clever enough to trick them. A mixed group of Horde and Alliance members alike", he ended with a deep voice, making clear that it was a serious issue. He then explained everything he had found out, even Trugana's thoughts.
"No, no, no, they shouldn't be working together at all!", the Princess complained. She turned around and returned to the stone litter she had been working on before Soratog arrived. There was a terrified young female human tied to it, whose skin was completely bruised and filled with injuries. She seemed exhausted, but that didn't prevent the horror to shine in her eyes. Out of pure frustration and whim, Dyra pierced the chest of her victim with her sharp, claw-like nails, and ripped the heart out. The Chieftain saw the precise moment in which the woman's eyes lost their glimmer.
"That was unnecessary", So'Eent reproached. "She had proven to be quite resilient, unlike other subjects."
"We will find more", the Princess answered quickly, without even looking at her bodyguard. "What does the Titanguard want with these good for nothing?"
"We don't know, but it was important enough for them to flee from our combat."
"Uhm... so this group may be valuable to them", Dyra reasoned, slowly and distractedly caressing her lower lip in a meditative gesture. "So'Eent, bring me the subject we captured at Arathi", she commanded with a vicious grin.
"As you wish, your Highness."
"Do I have to assume one of your experiments payed off?", Soratog asked with some concern; even though he trusted the Eredar, he had his reservations about her goals.
"Do not worry, my dear, it wouldn't be the first time the Legion used these methods", she answered without wiping away her wicked smile. "You see, I would never question Sargeras, but he placed his trust in foolish generals and commanders. Mannoroth, Kil'jaeden, Archimonde, they all lacked vision, and they wanted to conquer Azeroth in a blaze of hellfire. But the azerothians proved to be quite unwilling to be conquered", then, her bodyguard returned with a hooded and handcuffed human, taller and bulkier than his common kin. "I can't help but to wonder what would've happened if we would've seduced them into our ranks."
"Like you did to my people?", Soratog wondered, and he still didn't like where the conversation was going.
"You orcs were invited to the Legion. So no, not like we did to your people. Azerothians lack the might of the orcs", he knew she was flattering him, but he didn't care; the truth was the truth. "No, azerothians deserved a punishment for their insolence, for opposing our great Master. We could've enslaved them so easily if we would've just played from the shadows. And they are so, so afraid of the shadows", each one of her last words was accompanied by a tap on the human's hood with the tip of her fingers. "I want you to meet Raghek", and then she removed the hood.
The human was indeed slightly different than other humans Soratog had ever encountered. He looked wilder, more barbaric, with tattoos and a haircut similar to the vrykul fashion, only he wasn't a vrykul at all. And, of course, there was whatever Dyra had done to him: his eyes were injected with blood, frothing at the mouth and looking all around himself, as if he was searching for something to attack. The Burning Blade Warlord chuckled, for he had never seen a human dominated by orcish bloodlust.
"Will he be able to resist the blood haze?", he wondered.
"Of course he will. This is what I've been working on", she explained. "You have no idea how many of his kind died... but he is special... His people live in the mountains, away from civilization, and Raghek here has proved that they are indeed more resilient. In any case, all I have to do is adjust my methods, and in no time we'll have an army of bloodthirsty pet humans to throw at the Horde, the Alliance, the Cartels, the Trolls, the Silver Hand, the Earthen Ring, the Titanguard, all of them!"
"But you want to test their capacities first."
"Oh dear, you read me like an open book!", then she disintegrated the slave's manacles and looked him straight in the eyes. "Honey, I know you can understand my commands. You need to go north and kill a group of Horde and Alliance members who are working together. You do know what the Horde and Alliance are, right?", for all answer, the human Raghek nodded violently. "Terrific! Then you will go with Soratog and So'Eent to hunt them down!"
"You need us to assess his performance, your Highness?", the bodyguard wished to know. "Who will keep you safe while I'm gone?"
"I'll manage, dear. Now go, time is of the essence", she hurried them, turning to the stone litter to clean the mess she had done. "Oh, and one last thing", she said as they were about to leave. "If Raghek succeeds, bring me their leaders alive", her voice tone changed drastically, from joyful to... wrathful? Threatening? Coercive? All of those? "I would very much like to see what they have to... offer."