Chapter 1 - Year One (Year 594 by the Kings Calendar) - The First War

[Kirhart]

Mists rose on the mountainside, a small fire bathed those nearby with flickering light as a boar slowly roasted.

The settlement was nothing more than thatched huts surrounding a cave high in the Alterac Mountains.

Inside the mouth of the cave sat a large figure, cloaked in the skin of a dead frost wolf. His light brown skin shown slightly on his muscly exterior. He looked over the encampment appearing to embody the essence of a protector, but had the countenance of one who's mind was dominated with loss.

He was thinking about his homeland, and his own race which had forced him away from it. He had loyal followers within his clan, but they were few. The mountains were not their natural habitat, but they were safe, and isolated.

His memory was keen, it was said he possessed a gift, an ability to recall events exactly as they happened. He knew all to well how much his ability was more a curse than a blessing.

"Warchief, come quickly!" A deep voice called from the dark. The frost wolf covered Orc jumped to his feat and rushed toward what he recognized as the voice of Klag, who had been a long time loyal member of the Frostwolf Clan. A female orc emerged from the cave and followed closely behind accompanied by a few others who took up arms to see what was going on.

The Warchief skidded down a snow covered bank, and came to rest behind the small stone lookout position where Klag had stood guard. He raised up his hand toward where he had emerged and the footsteps of the pursuing orcs came to an abrupt stop. The Warchief knew his followers would move quietly into ambush positions, ready to react at a moments notice.

"Why did you call?" The Warchief inquired in a hushed tone.

"Warchief, I saw something below, just moments ago. I could have sworn it was an approaching party. Upon calling you they either have retreated or are hiding."

The Frostwolf Clan's home was in a high rocky area, for a span there was a clearing on a slight decline which connected to the nearby forest. Their position provided a defensive advantage, however, they had no route to escape.

The Warchief scanned the moonlit woods below, searching for any sign of life. He did not perceive anything with his eyes, but he could feel something in his bones. There was magic nearby.

"Durotan!" A voice called from among the trees. "We do not mean you harm, we seek audience with you."

Durotan sneered, it bothered him greatly that this interloper knew the location of the encampment and the identity of its inhabitants.

"SHOW YOURSELF" Durotan yelled, taking position upon the rock and exposing himself. He was without fear.

"I do not think that to be.. Appropriate." The voice said.

"Warchief, what has come over you?" Klag asked in a slightly panicked whisper.

The Warchief looked back at him for a moment and realized that Klag had not heard the voice. It was speaking directly to him, through his mind. The orc crouched on the rock, dropping to one knee and bowing his head. Closing his eyes he channeled his energy.

"Why are you doing this? Who are you?" Durotan replied, speaking through his mind directly back to the voice from the darkness.

"This concerns Gul'dan."

Durotan opened his eyes for a moment in surprise. Then furrowed his brow and closed them once more.
"You are either very wise, or very ignorant to contact me in this manner." the Warchief thought carefully about his words.

"Do not worry about my motives. Instead consider this: he has a spy in your Clan."

"You lie!" Durotan's voice echoed with anger through the spirit realm.

"I do not desire to be here, nor to ask the help of an Orc." The voice said then paused.

Durotan knew at that moment that the voice was not originating from a member of the Horde, but of someone loyal to the Alliance.

"I however have no choice." The voice continued "You cannot avoid this either, you are a part of the current. One that cannot be stopped."

"How do you know this, why should I trust you?" The Warchief asked, after a few moments of contemplation.

"You would not believe me, Durotan, son of Garad. But I beg you... by the ancestors, I beg you to believe this: your son will live"

Durotan opened his eyes and scowled menacingly into the darkness.
The Warchief's tone bordered on loathsome, but was bathed in acquiescence. "What would you have me do?"

"Meet your escort on the northern crossroad which feeds into Alterac City. Come unarmed. Bring no one."

[Kirhart]

Times were desperate.

The Orcs were swarming through the lands of the Alliance. The towns of Grand Hamlet and Sunnyvale burned and the screams dying of humans could be heard all across the battlefield. The Army of Stormwind was forced to abandon the villages on the outskirts and retreat to the Elwynn Forest.

King Llane knew his forces would not be able to withstand the overwhelming number of brutal warriors which poured through the Dark Portal. The only chance for his race to survive was for the Dark Portal to be destroyed, however the King did not have the numbers to turn the tide and push back the Horde army to the Blasted Lands.

Their only hope was a small group of heros. A group which could slip unnoticed behind enemy lines and end this infernal war.

The King knew it would not be easy, nor would it come without sacrifice. He commissioned his most trusted troops and most powerful wizards, along with agents of his allies: the Dwarfs, Night Elfs, Gnomes, and even a famed half-human half-Drenai assassin.

Their task, end the war, at any and all costs. Even if it required them to bring the enemy into the inner circle. Even it meant the loss of Stormwind. The onslaught must end, there was no other way for the Alliance to survive.

There was only one plan which could possibly end the war. The mission would be multi-pronged and it would be next to impossible to accomplish. They only had this chance, this one shot. The King intended to make it count.

The first task of the group was to seek an enemy of the enemy. Orcs were to never be trusted, however, if you had no choice but to get help from an Orc, it had better be one who had been bitterly betrayed by his own people.

The capital city of Alterac would be their first stop. From there, their lives and the lives of countless others would rest on their shoulders. They would be the salvation of Azeroth, or its doom.

[Kirhart]

Durotan approached the crossroads which he was told to go. He could smell the humans in Alterac City, the odor made him cringe. Humans were the most disgusting creatures, at least to Orcs.

Durotan had argued with his mate for hours following the message he received telepathically. What if he was just dreaming? What if this was some kind of trap? Even if it was a trap the Warchief knew he had to risk it.

His wife would very soon give birth to his child, and Durotan wanted nothing more than for his family to grow and live in peace. However, with the Burning Legion sweeping across Azeroth, and Gul'dan apparently to blame, the Warchief knew he needed to meet the mysterious interloper. Gul'dan had turned his back on the traditional ways and edged himself a pathway into extremely dark and terrible powers. He was also responsible for the exile of the Frostwolf Clan from the Horde. Not to mention that the voice claimed that Gul'dan had a spy within the Warchief's camp. Even the prospect of betrayal put a scowl on Durotan's face as he reminded himself why he had agreed to meeting whoever had contacted him. He had to know who was betraying him.

Durotan paused momentarily at the crossroads where he was instructed to go. He clenched his empty fists and wondered why he had so easily been tricked into not coming armed. All he could think about was his son, and how he could save him. Whatever the cost. Just as the thought passed his mind he felt the presence of the same magic which accompanied the voice before. The one responsible was approaching, or was already there.

A human stepped out from behind some nearby foliage, he was tall, youthful, and as Durotan noted, unarmed.
"Who are you Human?" Durotan growled, "I hope you are not the one who summoned me here."

"Summoned is a rather harsh sounding word, Warchief." The man said, his voice slightly less pronounced than it had been when communicating through the energy of the spirit world. It was without a doubt the one who Durotan had conversed with previously. The man continued "It would be more correct if you said that I asked you here."

"I do not care about words wizard!" Durotan's voice carried through the trees.

"I would keep my voice down if I were you" The man said, "Lord Perenold has provided us a way inside his keep. It would not go over well if the voice of an Orc reached the ears of the guards."

"Get to the point." Durotan was clearly not very patient when it came to his mortal enemy.

"I am aware of your situation as well as the plight of the Frostwolf Clan." the man said, prompting nothing more than a slight squint from the stone faced Warchief. "To put it briefly, we know how to Kill Gul'dan and perhaps stop the Burning Legion. I know you have seen first hand what Gul'dan is capable of."

"This all sounds a little too good to be true." Durotan scoffed, his tone however was shifting.

"It has taken many lives for us to get this far." The wizard said, eyes drifting downward. "I assure you, if there was some other way to stop the slaughtering of innocents I would take it. This, however, is the only path."

The Warchief's expression began to soften, shifting to one of curiosity. "I came because you mentioned something about my son. How can I ensure that he will grow to be a man without his life being cut short?"

"Unfortunately I do not have many answers Warchief." The man said, taking a few cautious steps nearer to the Orc."I do however know that there are some actions that must be taken, and that we cannot wait."

"I once again ask, what would you have me do.." Durotan said, speaking now out of concern rather than anger.

"In order to save both my race and yours, as well as the rest of Azeroth, we are relying on the information given to us by a half-breed who has gotten very close to my former master, Medivh."

"What does a human sorcerer have to do with Gul'dan?" Durotan asked, starting to get angry at the human.

"Our source has told us that Medivh is in fact possessed by Sargeras. We believe based on this information that Medivh and Gul'dan are working together." The human continued. "We must kill one in order to have an opportunity to kill the other."

"Are you sure your information is accurate?" the Warchief asked, doubt heavy in his tone.

"Without a doubt. I have known Medivh for a very long time."

"So why am I here? How can I save my son?" Durotan asked hastily, still not understanding what any of this has to do with him.

"We are assembling a party with which to sneak behind enemy lines and kill Medivh and Gul'dan. We know where they are located."

Durotan chuckled. "You think a few can kill these two? You will have to face the Legion." the Warchief was starting more and more to think this human was crazy. It in a way was gaining the human some respect from the Orc. The plan certainly had a very 'Orcish' feel to it.

"We have a guide who will take us through the mountains. On paths only very few know exist. We however are missing one big piece of the puzzle."

"What would that be?" Durotan asked.

"We need the help of an old friend of yours in order to accomplish our task." the wizard said, making his plea.

"What friend of mine? You really think anyone I know will want to help you"

"This conflict runs much deeper than our old blood feuds. We are in need of a powerful warrior. One who could help turn the tide by helping to stop the Legion but also to put a new, more just leader in power."

"Power over the Horde? Blackhand currently holds power."

"We know of one Orc who would be able to not only remove Blackhand but to also be worthy enough to rule after he is gone."

"I know of one also.." Durotan said, finally starting to grasp the breadth of the information this wizard was privy to.

"Orgrim Doomhammer is the only hope we have. We need you to recruit him for us."

"I do not see how he can help you in your task, but I can see your point about leadership of the Horde." Durotan paused, thinking for a moment. "I know he will trust me, even if i tell him he must work with humans. I just hope you are sincere."

"As I said, this is the only way to ensure your son will live."

"I will do this task." the Warchief said, conceding to the importance of this mission, this goal.

"You need only instill the doubt in his mind and then replace it with the belief that if our mission fails, not only will humankind be exterminated, but the Orcs as well."

"Yes.." the war chief said, rubbing his chin lightly between his thumb and forefinger. "For my family, and for my honor it will be done."

"We will need him to meet us here within the next 4 days. By then the rest of our group would have arrived. Lord Perenolde will provide lodging and a planning area within his Keep."

"4 days, that is very little time."

"It is not impossible, therefore, it is worth trying."

"I agree." The war chief said, looking in the direction of his encampment. "Who shall I say Orgrim is to meet?"

"Tell him to come to these crossroads and we will escort him inside the keep. We will find him before he finds us."

"I still do not know how you were able to find me.. What is your name?"

"I am Khadgar. That is all you need know. Please Durotan take caution on the road leading back after your meeting with Doomhammer. It is there where your childs life may be in danger."

"You still have not told me how I can prevent it, what I must do." The warchief said, sounding concerned

"Unfortunately you, and Drakka will need to give your lives in order to protect your son's. I wish there was another way, but it is the only outcome which ends in his survival according to visions which are the basis for this mission."

Durotan hung his head, both he and his mate must die? It is a price you sometimes must pay. He would do what he had to and he would not fail. "Thank you Khadgar. If I am to die, then I wish you luck. Hopefully Doomhammer can provide what you are lacking."

The two parted ways, which was a rare sight. Human and Orc turning backs to each other and walking away. Perhaps one day the two races might be able to work together on a larger scale, but for now, this would have to do.

As Khadgar approached the walls of the Keep he sensed someone nearby ho was utilizing stealth.

"So it has begun." A voice said, resonating from nearly every direction at once.

"Yes, the board is set." Khadgar replied.

"I smell.. Dwarf.." the Night Elf said, changing the subject.

"Ah that would be Brann." Khadgar replied. So nearly everyone was here, only the Paladin and the half-breed assassin were missing.. Oh, and the Orcish Berserker. They had 4 days, after that, the window would close. The wizard hoped that his compatriots would arrive soon, before it was too late.

[Throndir]

The Dwarven explorer had only just arrived at the keep, growing weary from the unexpected sight of the Orc he thought he had seen earlier. He had just rounded the corner, towards the keep's entrance when he bumped into a few others who were already there. He made a grunting noise as he saw them and heard the remark that particular individual had said.

"I don't think that's any way to be greetin' a companion of yours." Brann spat. "Can't handle the natural smell o' things then? Surprising for a Night Elf." Brann finished as he made his way to the keep's doors with the intent of knocking on it.

The dwarf didn't really mean the Night Elf any harm, though he saw that particular group of the Alliance neither the most trusted or highly regarded. They had a particular atmosphere about them that Brann didn't find very comfortable. Perhaps it was their long natural lives, or the fact that among all the Alliance races, were the most mysterious and secluded of them all. This particular one didn't look very inviting either.

"So this is everyone who'll be joinin' us on our expedition?" He asked.

[Mysticsage]

"No, my dwarven friend but it seems as though all those destined to take part in our little venture have been set moving. I will leave the spefics of who those people are as a surprise however. You never know who might be listening after all"   chuckled Kadgar trying his best to keep a low voice. "We would better served going inside for the wind may carry what we say to unwanted ears." He was going to try and stay as civil as possible but over the last few months his voice had gained a gravily edge he did not much enjoy due to all the pain he had endured since the war had started.

Kadgar was suprisingly well built for a mage and the war had only improved that by giving him a more grizzled appearance. If it was not for his robes you would think he was a general fit for the frontlines rather then reading books by candlelight, The war had changed many things about the man that stood before the others. In the prime of life his very being seemed to change to fit with the war itself. Though his eyes still held the curiosity of his youth he now had a heavy burden to bare. He was one of the Alliance's best stratigists and now the leader of this great campaign. He could feel the headaches that awaited him already. They still even had three more days before they could hope to start moving and if anything went wrong. No he could not let this fail.

Rubbing the black stubble of his jawline the mage could not help but smile slightly. The plan they had hatched looked more and more insane with each passing moment, and as each of his chosen companions appeared he could not help but wonder if this whole idea was a fools errand. But this war had proven insanity had power so why not use a little bit of that power for good for a change. Regardless if they succeeded or failed getting so many deverse people together would certainly leave its mark one way or the other.

[Linwelin]

Illidan was disgruntled by the dwarf's use of the word 'natural', gritting his teeth slightly. Not that he himself was the purest in a natural sense, but it was unsettling nonetheless. "There is hardly anything natural about a dwarf's smell. Your race's engineering and disregard for a mountain's natural form chokes the natural part right out of you. But you're no gnomes, and as an explorer you're not nearly as pungent from the forges. I find you...tolerable." He withdrew the sneering attitude he'd been speaking in slowly throughout that statement. "Ishnu-alah, Brann Bronzebeard. Let us head indoors as Archmage Khadgar has suggested."

Illidan had continued to burden himself with the disguising spells so as not to reveal his fel qualities. For the sake of his own desires succeeding, he need to keep his magic in check. It already seemed as though they'd have enough offensive power, so with any luck he would not need to personally take life. Just keeping his 'companions' alive was all that was truly necessary, so relying on druidic magics would be enough. Thinking this, Illidan casually followed the Archmage through the halls. The man was one of the few humans Illidan had gained respect for, in both matters of power and strategy, thus he had no qualms over speaking with him, nor following his plans. The dwarf, well, it remained to be seen. He knew of him somewhat, but Brann's first impression was not any more impactful than a normal dwarf.

Once inside and secure, Illidan started the conversation, "So who else shall be joining us for this expedition? Or shall that continue to be one of your 'surprises', Khadgar?"

[Throndir]

"Only tolerable, eh?" Brann laughed heartily, as he looked questioningly at the Night Elf who had spoken his name. He hadn't realized he was so well known among them. The individuals chosen for this expedition undoubtedly would have been one of the Alliance's best, but Brann never really concerned himself so much with the politics and happenings of the establishments, and likewise the knowledge of particular individuals in the Alliance; more concerned was he with charting out new lands. This war with the Orcs and the fell powers that consumed had put a great deal of dampening on things. Taken from his true passion to fight in a war that devastated the lands and people.

Ishnu-alah to yourself as well." Brann said, that particular saying was akin to a greeting to the folk, and though Brann was a well-versed linguist, he knew at least the others around them understood the saying. "And what is your name? You know mine after all."

[Linwelin]

"Ah, of course, I should introduce myself." Illidan said somewhat cautiously. The caution spurred from realizing he was not recognized, which was something he was quite used to among his own people, so it caught him off-guard, even with his disguise. "My name is Illidan Stormrage, a...druid of the Kaldorei. I am the brother of the Archdruid, Malfurion Stormrage." It had been somewhat difficult to call himself as a druid foremost, for he knew it was not his talent, his passion. He desired to advance his sorcery, and felt distant to the druidic energy he was taught to control. But if he were to announce this his involvement may be questioned. Caution was key, it was enough that they knew his name, and that he was skillled.

[Mysticsage]

With the three of them settled in he could not help but chuckle at the night elf's question "He had worked with his family on a handful of occasions before during the war but from a distance. This was really one of the first real times they had to chat and not be fighting or planing an assault. "Lets just say that once the entire group has gathered I don't think even the gods will know what will happen next. Such an unprecedented group should be more ten enough to throw off whatever evil plans are brewing in the shadows. If we can make our venture work then it might very well act as a turning point in the war for an alliance victory. he chuckled dryly as he continued.

But to do that I need you all to remember that we were chosen for our irreplaceable talents if one member were to fall our leave our party before their time it would be better to ust slit our own throats." He said this last line with the full wait of hs authority behind it. He had learned as a strategist that most soilders even the eccentric ones needed a firm authority figure. Sure each individual had there own needs, and a group this small only hightened those differences. But, if he could impress on them not only the impotance of the mission  but also his authority then they would be less likely to question his decisions later.

"As you may or may not know it will be another three days before we are all prepared ,so we will be getting to know each other extremely well and that may mean some hurt egos. The Alliance however will need us to get along as one big happy family until this job is done understood. There is no racial predjudice or past history rightly or wrongly we need to know we can trust each other long enough to not be dead when this is over."

[Zultar]

Unsure of my actions, I was debating whether or not to show up at these crossroads at all. It had even mentioned not to bring my trusted wolf to traverse these long distances. What sort of stealth, I wondered, warranted this much detail? My traveling buddy, my best friend and his wife - we'd agreed that bringing a riding wolf bred for war wouldn't look so welcoming to the Alliance. I could imagine the terror that could spread over a dwarf's face.

Shocked I was of my friend's sudden appearance however. His note didn't exactly mention the detail he'd be coming here directly. It sounded like a plea for help! I bet those Alliance told him he'd better come here directly, and it was a good thing they did- I wouldn't take them so seriously if he hadn't come to personally come himself. He apologized on behalf of the Alliance's hasty decision too which I welcomed; i'll bet my blood that the Alliance came with this decision in fear I, a towering Orc, would walk on their lands and smash their skulls. I wasn't that evil looking was I? I mean, aren't I...

I dunno.

A little cute with my grotesque muscles, and large fangs?

Oh. I see. Must be the fangs huh...

Anyways, I found it difficult to understand what was in my hands - the note telling me to walk straight into Alliance territory. Even if it came from my best friend and even if he was here right infront of me, I was not open to the idea of an entire squadron of Alliance foot soldiers set to ambush me unknowingly. Having yet to find a single Alliance soul willing to cooperate with us, my best friend must have either been able to find such a magnificent soul or he's being completely fooled. I walked with nothing but my black armor, my Doomhammer, and a large cloak to conceal myself. I figured there was no need to pack any food since I could just go into some cave and strangle the next dire bear I see with my hands. That would be plenty of meat for the three of us.

At one point in the start of our long journey, I had discovered my loyal friends were following me from 50 yards behind. They had done so without my permission or prior knowledge, so I didn't know it was them- it was a horrible feeling to sense some 20 rogues behind you, creeping as you move each and every step. Even a seasoned war veteran as myself would be abit anxious. I was aching to let out a glorious battle-cry at the top of my lungs before charging towards several 10ft trees, bludgeoning them with enough force to be completely uprooted, and sending a murderous death gaze against the puny little rogues that dared stalk me behind cowardly trees doing cowardly things. They later were forced into the open view when a great plains stood before us so I couldn't quite execute my prideful and time honored tradition- of course the rogues apologized, but they insisted our little travel group should stop this suicidal journey instead.

Their point could easily be seen; they were worried. It was foolish, they told me, it must be some sort of trap! But I stood my ground. I argued I knew my best friend well enough to understand he would not fall for something so simple and brain dead. Afterall, both of us came to the conclusion that a certain warlock was certainly questionable. Less questionable then more stupid, really. I'd love nothing more then to crush that Warlock's Face with my Doomhammer. Be it the last blood lust that enrages me, Orgrim Doomhammer, I would be sure to pay back my respects to that manipulative wretch Gul'dan who had turned Blackhand, leader of the Blackrock Clan, into the fool he is now. It is now no shame that I kill both.

I had my doubts with what I heard about the endless strife with Gul'dan and the Alliance, eventually all of Azeroth I figured. I assumed my best friend also came to this realization. The blood feud between Orc's and Humans didn't help either. An Orc my Father was! An Orc I am now! His blood runs through mine, blood that has shed the Alliance for generations! But perhaps now that bloodshed might be partially prevented. Any less loss was the best thing any side in a war could hope for. Perhaps if what the letter implied is true, then surely there would be change. Perhaps I looked forward to the change in the Horde - free of that warlock's grasp. Perhaps.

I looked over the note that had been sent in advance, still fluttering in the dead winds with my firm grasp over the large, iconic mark of the Horde. The note spoke in a dire tone, brief, concise, but a particular passage had honestly convinced me to take my feet along with my now traveling friend:

'...I know that all of this might sound as if I've gone mad, old friend, but I ask you this-

are you willing to go to extremes to stop Gul'dan? Then, old friend, believe me. For now, I believe these Humans. Perhaps they are not so eager with their blades with Orcs, and instead their mouths. I myself am with you Orgrim - trust me when I say that your skills will end Gul'dan, and somehow ensure my son's life...'

Signed at the bottom was a familiar Orcish name written exactly as I've recalled it through every single letter he had ever sent me previously: Durotan, Chief of the Frostwolfs, my best friend. Durotan had mentioned helping the Alliance expedition kill a wizard named Medivh. Was he as brain dead as Gul'dan?

So I had ventured forth to this strange crossroad, three Orcs, waiting in hopes we did not have to needlessly crush one's face into a blood battered ground. A three Orc's en-rout to Alliance Land. Choosing to place a degree of my faith in Durotan who had brought up the very concerning issue of Gul'dan, we agreed to a direct path towards Alterac City. Lingering thoughts of what will happen at this crossroad began flooding my mind; the fact that it was an ambush even after all of Durotan's efforts could never not be considered. Durotan may have the purest intentions out of these lot, but it didn't mean the Alliance could show the same. Any ambush was bound to be led by rogues however. Other Alliance thoughts filled my mind. Little girl Gnomes deployed as Alliance Honorgaurds. Pointlessly revealing female Nightelf outfits. Then those pesky Human thieves I hear about, running through the chapels circling around the priest, all the while pocketing their money and spreading it to the commons. The Alliance - I just grabbed my face recalling these new reports my spies sent me. Were they true?

What a scary Alliance.

'These had better be the people you said they were, Durotan. I just don't want my opinion of them further ruined'

Please, no gay tree huggers either. Especially those. Durotan just smiled, assuring me that nothing of that sort existed. His face told otherwise. I'd best prepare myself.

And as the three of us, myself, Durotan and his mate continued our long trip to Alterac City, I thought to myself;

The next open tree hugger that comes will surely meet the might of my Doomhammer.

[Kirhart]

Orgrim awoke just as the morning sun passed over the horizon.
What had happened?
The last thing he remembered was hearing arrows cut through the air and battle cries being shouted.
Then it hit him, hard.
Both Durotan and his mate were killed by a volley of arrows. Orgrim had used his Doomhammer to bat the projectiles out of the sky, but as one orc, he was not fast or powerful enough to save anyone besides himself.
His hands, face, and chest stung, a small amount of blood leaked from some of the larger wounds he had sustained during the heat of battle and the ensuing retreat.
"Retreat.." Orgrim said aloud
The word hung heavy in the air. How had he strayed so far from the battlefields and glory?
He knew there was only one choice, he had to get to Alterac. Although this team (he refused to think of it as an alliance) was composed of his sworn enemies, it was clear that the orcs had strayed. To be attacking their own people, on the dawn of a war, and perhaps the brink of Azeroth's destruction.
"Perhaps this war will bring about new partnerships.." He thought, with a sickened chill going up his spine. He could not even stand the fact he had just considered that, even if it was only within his mind.
He must complete the mission, for without this there would be no future, no horde, no light or dark. He may not like it, but this mission was his fate. It is something he would have to press through.. For the good of his homeland.

Meanwhile in Stormwind, Lothar mounted his gryphon, then tossed a few gold coins at the stableman. "Fair and just compensation for the use of your time and facilities."
The stableman's eyes widened, and his jaw slowly fell slack. "This is more than I make in a month!" he shouted
"I suggest that you don't save it, go out and buy something which pleases you." He moved his eyes off of the stableman and pressed his ankles into the sides of his gryphon. Its wings outstretched and with a blast of air and dust kicked up it leapt into the air. Within moments, the black pillars of smoke on the horizon, some as close as the Elwin Forest, darkened the sky. 
Lothar knew Stormwind could not possibly hold out. He had to slip away before it was too late.
In order to ensure the light can spread, you must at times venture into the darkness "Light guide me, give me the strength to do what I must." He prayed, pressing his heels harder, he had to get to Alterac, there was no more time, for himself, or Azeroth. He shook off the thought..
"We shall drive back this swarm." He whispered. "I will avenge every life taken twofold."

The group awoke on the morning, within 24 hours they would have to be leaving. Restlessness was fairly prevalent in them all. Their eyes  appeared glassed over as each began to grasp that they may never see their homes again.