Fog encompassed the camp spreading an eerie bluish haze from the torches across Crusher Valley. A gust of wind blew through the valley spreading the fog in its wake.
Despite the camp's outward appearance, the great hall was bustling with activity in the late evening hours. Chieftan Volonazra sat in council, planning the next day's objectives in the battle against the constant alliance attacks on Orgrimmar. Quietly in the corner, two orc's were arguing the finer points of grog with a tauren. The clan's chef, Blurp, was chasing some rats behind the grain hamper for an evening snack.
The wind outside begain to increase in intensity as thunder let loose overhead. Several shaman began stiring uneasily in their seats, looking to the ceiling of the hall. Huato, elder shaman, jumped from his seat and ran to the chieftan's side. "Da spiritz ib uneasy. Me nub gruk wut dey blah'n.....but sumptin ib happenin" he whispered to the chief."
Moments later, lightning struck the roof of the great hall; shattering iron, wood, and leather. Continuous blasts of lighting poured down from the clouds, striking the ground of the hall through the now open roof.
A rush of commotion began both inside and outside the great hall. Gong's sounded around camp, sounding the call to arms. Grunts began rushing in a protective position around Crusher valley, ready to repel what they had believed was an obvious alliance attack on their stronghold.
"Da spiritz blah dat dis nub an invazshun. Me still nub gruk wut dey blah'n it ib. Dey nub cleer" Huato shouted to the chieftan above the commotion. Sniffing the air, Volonazra began looking around the hall. "Me sensz sumptin. A presenz me hab nub felt sensz....."
A shriek interrupted the cheiftan's thought and brought the hall to a near silence. Directly under the hole in the hall's ceiling was Maube, flattened under a slightly crisped orc. His facial features were hard to distinguish as his skin was charred black either from the lightning or from lack of bathing. Wisps of smoke rose from his body giving the impression it was more from the lightning, though the smell told another story.
"Get off me you smelly lug!" screached Maube from under the orc. Brushing himself off, the orc stood up allowing Maube to catch her undead breath.
"Shoosh deddie. Lat ib fine!" he replied. Those within the great hall starred at him in astonishment as some of the older members recognized who it was.
"Uglutz!" cried the chieftan as he approached him, pating him on his smoking shoulder. "Hab ben many moonz dat lat hab ben gone! Wer hab lat ben?"
Grinning at those around him, Uglutz walked over to a table and grabbed some grog. After draining the chipped gnome-skull mug, Uglutz began to speak.
He told them of his journeys to distant lands at the direction of the spirits. Some laughed as he told his tale, some from drunkeness and some from the stupid things Uglutz had done. Volonazra rubbed his head deep in thought, and asked Uglutz if he could show them some of the places he had gone.
Smiling, Uglutz pulled a dirty and stinky parchment from under his pants. The chief opened the parchment and chuckled. "Der ib map ob dat mountan me blah tu lat abowt. We kan get der if we follow dat der map" grinned Uglutz excitedly.
Gordantell peered over the chief's shoulder to examine the map. Without a word he walked away trying not to laugh. The map had a crudely drawn triangle at the top labled "Muntun" with some squiggly lines from it around the parchment to where at the bottom was a smiley face labled "Uglutz".
Puffing out his chest with pride, Uglutz crossed his arms as others began to examine the map, obviously impressed with his exquisite detailed accounting of his adventures. "Wen we goin bak der cheef? Der ib reechez beyond wut lat kan dreem ob! Mur shiniez den all ob uz can carry! We juzt follow wut me skribul...."
In the corner, a few younger crushers mocked Uglutz's stupidity. Standing behind them, Huato put his hand on one of their shoulders. "Da uld vuduu-boss ib nub as tupid as latz tinkin." Grinning, Huato walked away.
The celebration of Uglutz's return lasted well into the morning hours, as many of the crushers have an unusual ability to consume large amounts of grog. Sunlight began pouring down from the hole into the great hall. A few vultures could be seen circling overhead, thinking the stink coming from the area had to be from some rotting carcasses, rather from Maube.
Retiring to his personal tent, Volonazra sat upon his pile of skins. As he rubbed the weariness from his eyes, Uglutz entered and closed the tent flaps. "Su, wer wuz lat?" asked Volonazra.
"Me blah dat tu lat alredy!" Uglutz replied. Volonazra was silent, and continued to await an additional response.
Sighing, Uglutz pulled another parchment from under his pants and handed it to the chief. "Me gut wut lat wunted frum dat pushdug nekromanzer. Me hunted hem all ober. Da muntunz, da see, agh eben thru da dark portal. But me fund it."
Waving his hands on top the parchment, glyphs and runes began appearing written in the common tongue. It was obviously a magical scroll of some type that read as a book. Different glyphs appeared and dissapeared, only to be replaced by additional runes.
"Su wut dem skribulz blah cheef?" asked Uglutz.
"It beginz, 'Frum da darkness, frum da forrezt, me hab kum wit wordz ob warnin. Berin tokenz ob a struggle. An ordeel approachez swiftly, as a flok ob field crowz flyin blak acroz da sun'. It wuz skribul'd by Medivh!" grinned Volonazra.
Smiling, Uglutz bowed to the chief, and began to exit his tent. "Uglutz, me happi tu hab lat bak." grinned Volonazra.
"It ib gud tu be bak cheef!" smiled Uglutz.