"Are we just going to sit here in this lifeless fortress?"
In the central hall of Naxxramas, the remaining three Dread Lords are discussing the next plan of action.
Varimathras mocked Balnazar with contempt, "If you don't hide, what else do you want to do? Challenge those paladins who have the Holy Light in their minds?"
"You are a complete coward, Varimathras," Balnazzar said with a look of anger on his face. He had originally persuaded Diserok to go together and cause some chaos in the mortal civilization so that they could go easily. Dalaran steals artifacts.
However, Varimathras's ridicule and ridicule made Diselok doubt Balnazzar's plan, and gave up his plan to leave Naxxramas and go to Lordaeron.
"Am I a coward? Then what are you, an arrogant maniac?" Varimathras immediately responded, "You have to think clearly. If you die in a mortal city, you won't see the two of us. , but Kil'jaeden."
Balnazzar fell into rare silence when he heard Kil'jaeden's name. As Kil'jaeden's most frequent lieutenant group, they certainly knew what this name represented among demons.
But Balnazzar returned to normal immediately, and he retorted, "Then how long do you think the three of us can hide on Azeroth?"
"I don't know, but before Tichondrius finds a way for us to fully descend into this world, the best way is to wait." Varimathras spread his hands and said, "But if we are all killed, we will definitely suffer. all responsibility."
As they talked, the two Dread Lords began to quarrel again. Diselok on the side was carefully checking the operation of the floating fortress until he could no longer stand his brother's useless arguments.
"That's enough, how long do you two want to keep arguing?!"
Balnazzar and Varimathras spoke almost at the same time, pointing at each other and saying, "While this disgusting guy rolls back to the Twisting Nether!"
"Are you idiots? Now let me tell you, the flight energy of Naxxramas is almost running out. If you are really too idle, I suggest you think of a way to solve this problem!"
Diserok pointed at the almost exhausted magic energy source with a very unhappy expression. After they faced the betrayal of the Scourge, they had become very short of manpower, and now the two big bats were still having some useless arguments.
"The energy is not enough? Have all those low-level undead been thrown into the furnace?" Balnazar asked.
"It seems that my idea is correct. You are a complete idiot. Have you forgotten that we have sacrificed the last batch of usable cannon fodder?" Varimathras seized an opportunity and continued to taunt Balnazzar. .
Diselok also nodded and said, "If the undead reserves of Naxxramas itself are used again, some of the facilities in this floating fortress will inevitably stop working."
As a huge floating city, Naxxramas has strict regional divisions, and each facility requires a certain number of undead to maintain operation.
Since they lost the support of the Lich King, Naxxramas is now almost at the stage of running out of energy. Before this low energy situation occurred, they had already supplied a batch of undead sacrifices as energy to Naxxramas. Samas.
However, the energy of those lowly cannon fodder cannot keep Naxxramas running for too long, and now they are faced with this problem again.
"Are we going to throw all the undead and those psychic warlocks into the furnace?" Balnazzar said with some uncertainty.
"No, you can't do this, otherwise the barrier of Naxxramas will disappear immediately, and the new 'Lich King' will immediately trace our origins." Diserok denied this approach, "Tichondion Before Si left, he told us that this was why we kept those psychics."
"I suggest that we abandon Naxxramas immediately and find a new place to hide," Varimathras put forward his own suggestion. "Sooner or later, this floating fortress will run out of energy. Staying here will only Let’s get discovered faster.”
"It's best not to do this," Diserok's pale face showed some helplessness, "Many of the materials and items we need are still stored on this floating city. If Naxxramas is abandoned, it will Our plans are delayed."
"This won't work, that won't work either, then go directly to find energy that can be used by Naxxramas!" Balnazar took the control of the fortress's flight into his own hands, "If it really crashes on the sea It’s even more difficult to preserve those materials.”
"Place Naxxramas in the mountains southwest of the kingdom of high elves. They are not that sharp outside that damn barrier."
"There is no other way for now, but we can't just place our hopes on Tichondrius..."
The three fear lords finally reached a brief agreement and prepared to take Naxxramas away from the Lich King first. If the new Lich King was allowed to seize more power to strengthen himself, I am afraid that they would The mission will really fail.
Moreover, their failure only delayed the arrival of the Burning Legion. Kil'jaeden could not completely rely on a few of them.
But if they don't want to fall into an ending more tragic than death, it's best to complete the mission instead of returning to the Twisting Nether in despair and waiting for Kil'jaeden to do it himself.
Just as the Dread Lords were discussing how to avoid Arthas' attention and hide Naxxramas, Kerr received orders from Arthas and prepared to regain control of Naxxramas to regain his position. Thugard also left Icecrown's fortress.
Arthas gave Kel'Thuzad a ship loaded with soul crystals and magic crystals, which the Archlich planned to use to lure the Dreadlords into a trap.
Of course, just a pile of crystals couldn't deceive the Dread Lord, but Arthas told him that there was something extraordinary buried in the mountains to the west of Tirisfal Glades, and he could use the mysterious influence of that place. , attracting the fear demon kings.
…………
A few days later, Grommash, who had gone deep into the forest, rushed out with the remaining troops covered in blood from the depths of the jungle. In the forest, they encountered terrifying opponents, causing Grommash to suffer heavy losses.
"What on earth are those creatures with pointed ears like high elves?" Grommash was extremely angry. The experiences of the past two days reminded him of the time he was killed by Lordaeron in Silverpine Forest and Tirisfal Glades. The day of pursuit by the First Corps.
Races he had never seen before launched an attack on Grommash and his troops in the forest. At first Grommash was excited about finding the enemy, but gradually, this excitement turned into disturbed.
They were "baptized" by arrows from all directions in the dense forest, and there were even wild beasts hidden in the darkness that raided the lone soldiers.
After a few days, instead of solving the problem, many elite tribal warriors were lost.
In the forest, the orcs were no match for the elves, and Grommash had the illusion that the entire forest was helping the elves attack the orcs.
Although he was no longer willing to retreat, in order to prevent the orcs from dying in vain, Grommash took the lead and broke out of the encirclement of the elves.
What upset this violent and powerful warrior was that the elves had been hiding in the dark and attacking with bows and arrows, without giving him a chance to confront him head-on. He was unable to use his strength, and instead he was shot by the elves. A few arrows.
Fortunately, most of the Elf's arrows were blocked or dodged by Grommash, only causing him some insignificant injuries.
But this defeat made Grommash realize that the orcs are no longer the red tide that swept the Eastern Kingdom. Although they have gained sanity and freedom after losing their magic blood, their eroded bodies are no longer what they used to be. So strong.
Not to mention that more than ten years have passed since the end of the Second War, and Grommash is also older. Although he is still one of the most powerful warriors in the tribe, he can still feel that he is The status is declining day by day.
Even the most powerful warrior is powerless in the face of the erosion of time.
If possible, Grommash hoped to die on the battlefield, like Orgrim - but the responsibility as a chief and the hope of reviving the tribe made him not want to be buried in the ground so early.
Grommash, who was leading a group of disgraced orc soldiers, looked downcast. He knew what this defeat meant.
The orcs will lose control of the lumberyards, and they will retreat to the barren land under the pressure of the elves, worrying about the wood needed for construction.
Countless thoughts flashed through Grommash's heart: Thrall gave him this task out of trust, but now he actually wants to go back in despair, admitting in front of the entire tribe that he can't even do such a small thing. Failed?
Absolutely impossible!
Grommash's face turned red from holding back. He couldn't bear such humiliation. Instead of going back like this, he would rather die in the battle with the elves!
This desperate and crazy thought brought back the part of the corrupted thoughts that had been suppressed by Grommash. Some kind of crazy, bloodthirsty and extremely dark influence began to erode Grommash's consciousness.
——"Go...go find the power, the power enough to solve all problems!"
Grommash's body tightened suddenly as he sat on the warg. He felt another voice whispering to him from the bottom of his heart. An indescribable, but deep-bone-marrow itching and painful feeling spread throughout his body.
Under this torture, Grommash's eyes were filled with bloodshot eyes, but he resisted and did not let his body react in any way, so as not to make the orcs' already low morale fall even further.
"Ho ho..."
The low roar from their throats made the other orcs around them tremble. They thought it was their chief who was angry because of their incompetence, so they did not dare to make a sound as they marched.
Therefore, Grommash's abnormality was not discovered by the orcs. He persisted until he returned to the camp in the logging camp and his tent, and then he held on to the tent stakes and gasped for air.
This strong orc was soaked in sweat, as if he had just been fished out of the river. The blood vessels all over his body were shrinking and expanding like small squirming insects.
The painful sequelae lasted for an unknown amount of time before Grommash gradually felt the sting of sweat soaking into the wound. He licked his chapped lips and sat tremblingly on the animal skin carpet.
The usually handy [Blood Roar] was put aside by Grommash with difficulty. The orc picked up a bowl of water and poured it into his mouth in large gulps, trying to relieve his hunger and thirst.
Grommash threw away the wooden bowl from which he drank the water and wiped his mouth. His expression and body were very tired: just as Thrall thought, the erosion of the demonic blood in Grommash's body was irreversible.
For this reason, Grommash wanted to do more for the tribe before he was tortured by the demonic blood and turned completely into a useless person.
He fights and kills enemies desperately, not because he likes the feeling of having blood all over his body, but because he is afraid that what he has done will not be enough to repay the mistakes he has made.
"Time is running out...how can I deal with these difficult opponents?" Grommash sat dejectedly in his seat, his usual vigor no longer visible on his face.
The orcs need a stable home to recuperate, and it is never a good idea to provoke difficult opponents at this time, especially this time. Grommash's intuition told him that those elves may be the most dangerous ones he has ever encountered. enemy.
"We can't bring this trouble to Thrall..."
Grommash forced himself to stand up from the ground. He walked unsteadily to the wall with the map, stretched out a rough finger and pointed on the leather-supported map.
The orcs have not explored the entire Ashen Valley. The furthest orc scouts can only go to the forest not far from the Warsong logging camp. No matter how far away, no scouts can come back.
At first Grommash thought that there were beasts and other powerful creatures in this forest, but now he realized that the entire forest was actually under the rule of a powerful race.
The orcs' behavior of cutting down trees aroused the dissatisfaction of these guys.
What Grommash didn't quite understand was that the location where the orcs were logging was located at the edge of the forest. Looking across the river, you could see the mountain valley where the orcs' main city was located.
As for the place where the orcs chose to settle, they had already explored it. It was just a barbaric land with no intelligent life inhabiting it. Even logging on the border between these two areas would be attacked.
Grommash felt inexplicable humiliation. The orcs had finally found a new home that they could live in, but they had to be driven away and treated unfairly like this?
You know, the orcs were not the one who started the dispute this time, they just chopped some wood!
