Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 |
Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 |
Part 9
Part 10 (final chapter)
Orgrimmar
1 year Before Present
A lanky troll walked into the gates of Orgimmar with smooth, fluid motion. He looked like any other troll save for the gleam in his eye when he eyed a passing tauren merchant’s bulging pouch. He accosted the tauren. The bull man snorted in irritation, but stopped, wondering what the troll had to say.
“Skullcrushers?” the troll asked with a strange accent. The tauren had no idea what the troll was talking about. It shook its head and began to walk away. The troll quickly stepped in front of him and repeated, “Skullcrushers?”
The tauren growled and attempted to walk around this irritating troll. Once more, the troll blocked the tauren’s path and repeated once more, “Skullcrushers?”
The tauren had had enough. It picked the troll up by the neck with one massive arm and tossed him to the dirt against a nearby stone wall. Harumphing to itself in indignation, the tauren continued on its way.
Rhoach stood up and dusted himself off. “Thank you for your help, kind sir,” he chuckled as he emptied the tauren’s purse into his own, tossing the emptied pouch to the dusty streets of Orgrimmar…
It took him the rest of the day to find an individual who could point him in the right direction. That was fine by him, however. More time in the city meant more time to enrich himself. Ah, how good it was to be back in a populated area, with all the interesting inhabitants and their equally interesting accumulated wealth. Finally, he ran into a fellow troll who gave him the directions to the nearby Skullcrusher encampment. Rhoach nodded his thanks and set off.
A couple hours later, he walked into the camp. After asking around for Uglutz, he was pointed in the direction of a tent with, oddly enough, purple smoke billowing out the front.
And who emerged from that smoking abode but that strange figure from ten long years ago, back when he was just a whelp: the odd orcish shaman. He was even wearing that helmet that had had one of its horns shattered on that fateful day.
As Rhoach approached the grizzled orc, a voice spoke up in his head. ‘Lesson fifteen: always honor your word. It is all our people have.”
