Chapter Five: The Costs of Business
If there was one thing Ughbar loved about Durotar it was the heat. True many did not care for the dry and constant heat that was everywhere in this land, but Ughbar loved it. Growing up as a young orc in the internment camps of Lordaeron it had always been too cold, in his opinion. But here, it was as though the sun was embracing him, and he loved it. As a city guard he had the chance to always experience the heat. Rarely taking breaks from his duties so he could enjoy it more.
Today there was a difference though. He was asked to be part of an escort for a representative of the Steamweedle Cartel. The representative was pleasant enough by goblin standards. No snide comments about the city. No insults towards anyone’s honor or family. In fact, the representative rarely spoke. Compared to the chattering, obnoxious, and rude goblins Ughbar had met so often it was a welcome change.
The two of them traveled through the streets of Orgrimar until they came to Honor Hold, the seat of the Warchief. The cartel representative paused for a moment to look at the imposing skull of Manoroth, the pit lord demon slain by the legendary Grom Hellscream, and straightened his suit. Ughbar breathed a sigh as he waited.
“Problem son,” the representative asked.
“No,” the guard assured his charge, “I’ve never met the Warchief before.”
“Ah,” the representative smiled and nodded. “I have a few times. Warchief Thrall is a good egg. You’ll see.”
The two then passed through the stone and wood building until they came to a great hall draped in hide maps. The Warchief stood beside one of these maps with one of his advisors discussing something when he noted the two new figures. The Warchief’s gold and black, plate, armor glistened in the sun as a beam through a window illuminated it.
“Welcome back to Orgrimar, Goldstrike,” Warchief Thrall called out to him.
“Thank you Warchief it is good to be back,” the representative smiled a toothy grin and swept a top hat off his head as he bowed. “I have the newest transport ledger from the cartel. You will be pleased to hear that the ships have arrived safely, and the new citizens are being welcomed into the city as we speak.”
“Excellent,” Thrall walked to the high seat to continue the conversation. “I’ve received word that another group of clans in hiding have heard the Horde’s call and are asking for transport.”
“Ah,” representative Goldstrike scratched his head for a moment. “About that, Warchief. I’m sorry but the cartel bosses are wanting an additional twenty percent for the next transport.”
The temperature in the room seemed to drop considerably. Several advisors looked between the goblin and the Warchief. Goldstrike, for his part, knew that he needed to wait for the Warchief to speak. He didn’t wait long.
“We had already settled the amount of gold,” Thrall spoke glacially. Putting emphasis on each word. “This is the fourth time the cartels have increased the price. Are they at least offering a reason this time?”
“Yes sir,” Goldstrike said immediately. “Several of the clans we’ve been picking up for transport are in remote areas. It strains the ships and their crews. Also, some of the bosses have voiced concerns about antagonizing the Night Elves. Night Elven ships have been tracking our ships recently. If they believe that our neutrality is over, then that could jeopardize the bosses overall interests.”
The Warchief listened without interrupting. Ughbar knew why the Night Elves were worried about the orcs. It only made sense that they would keep watch on newcomers to their home continent. However, the goblins did business with everyone. And if one client thought that the cartels were taking sides with another then they wouldn’t have as many clients.
“Provided this is the last time I am willing to increase the payment by ten percent,” the Warchief proclaimed.
“Due respect Warchief,” the representative said with a polite tune, “but I was not sent with authority to haggle.”
Thrall glared at the goblin in way that made Ughbar take a step back. Representative Goldstrike kept his head bowed to the Warchief as a sign of respect and waited.
“Very well,” Thrall relented. “But if there is another increase the Horde will consider it an act of dishonor against us. I trust you can relate that to the leadership of the cartels?”
“Of course, Warchief,” Goldstrike told him with another bow and taking the que that he was dismissed started walking quickly for the door.
“You see,” the goblin told his escort. “Not one threat against my life the entire time.”
“It sounds like he had every right to be angry,” Ughbar thought out loud.
“That is certainly true,” the representative sighed. “I’ve told the cartel bosses again and again that we can’t keep doing this. And every time they just smirk and say that the Horde has no navy so we can charge what we want for our ships. I’ve worked with the Orcs since the third war, and I know what happens if we push too hard. Your people build a navy go to Kazzan and burn it to the ground for being too damn annoying.”
Ughbar laughed, “So you have worked with my people for a while.”
Orgrimar did not have direct access to the sea, a design flaw of the city in Ughbar’s opinion, and as result they had a lot of walking before they arrived at one of Durotar’s ports. Several goblin ships were anchored there and were busy unloading both cargo and passengers. Goldstrike saw the captain of one of the ships and hurried forward to greet him.
“Drapamar Bangs, this is my escort Ughbar,” Goldstrike introduced the new goblin to the orc. “Any problems with your voyage.”
“A few fights, old clan rivalries, and a couple of boys who got mad at losing a game of capture the flag. But that was it,” Drapamar said with a shrug. Ughbar agreed, if that was all then it sounded like a pretty smooth journey. “There was one issue that didn’t have anything to do with passengers. We were being followed and not just by the Night Elves this time. I think it may have been a Scourge ship.”
Almost on que several shouts could be heard from the ship and the dock. The captain sprinted through the crowd followed closely by the representative and the city guard. It didn’t take long on a sunny day with calm seas to see what the commotion was about. In the distance was a ship that resembled a human ship, with torn sails, rotted wood, and the general air of a ghost ship. It was close enough to shore that they could see the crew. All of whom appeared to be undead humans.
A crewman came to the goblin captain. “Do we open fire sir?”
“They’re out of range,” Drapamar shook his head and pulled a collapsible spy glass from his waistband. “The ship is flying colors. That’s not a Lordaeron flag. Not a Scourge one either that I know of. Purple background with a broken mask.”
“Could they be a different group of Undead,” Ughbar asked unsure of the nature of the undead’s leadership.
“Maybe, they’re signaling,” the captain adjusted his spy glass. He read the flag signals carefully aloud. “They are saying that they have come in peace and are requesting a parlay with Warchief Thrall.”
Goldstrike and Ughbar looked to each other. “That doesn’t sound like mindless Undead to me.”
“Me either,” Ughbar said. “We should report this to Orgrimar. Let the Warchief decide.”
“Agreed,” Drapamar then turned to one of his crewmen. “Signal the ship to hold its position while we contact the Warchief.”
They didn’t have to wait long. Word reached the city quickly and the Warchief came forward. And did not do so alone. The skies were thick with wyverns and bat riders. More than a thousand wolf riders marched alongside the Warchief as he approached the shore. It was a glorious sight, Ughbar thought. Reminiscent of the tales when the Horde would march in the past and shake the world.
For his part, he and the other city guards evacuated the civilians from the port. Just in case this was a deception from the Undead. Goldstrike and Drapamar stayed aboard their ship while Ughbar and the city guards made perimeter around it. The Undead vessel was signaled, and a small boat rowed ashore. When it landed two individuals disembarked. One was quite tall, a male thought Ughbar, though hard to tell from the heavy robes he wore. The other had a slight frame that Ughbar was certain was female. They both carried themselves with an air of dignity and respect that made the city guard wonder who these people had been in life.
The Warchief had dismounted to greet these newcomers. Flanked by a Troll and Tauren elder on either side. As the Undead pair continued to walk forward Thrall stepped towards them and commanded, “That is close enough. State your intentions. Why has the Lich King sent you here?”
The robbed figure lowered his hood to reveal a horrible sight. His head looked mangled, as though it had been partially eaten by a wolf or hound. But he spoke with a clear voice that carried well despite speaking softly. “Greetings Warchief Thrall, I am Archmage James Revarda formerly of the Kirin Tor. My companions and I do not speak for the Lich King. We speak for the one who freed us from the Lich King’s domination. Our queen, Sylvanas Windrunner. She who named us Forsaken.”
The Warchief listened carefully, seeming to weigh both the words, and the weight of his war hammer. “You say you call yourselves Forsaken. Forsaken by whom?”
“By everything, Warchief,” the Archmage continued solemnly. “By our former countrymen, by the Light we once worshiped, by life itself. We continue to exist for one purpose. Revenge against the one who condemned us to this fate. The Lich King himself.”
Thrall raised an eyebrow. A human expression that he and many other orcs had picked up in the internment camps. “If that is the case, why are you here?”
The Archmage seemed to brace himself before he continued. “We have come, Warchief, to ask to join the Horde.”
If a pin had dropped it would have been heard with crystal clarity. Ughbar’s mind was racing with many thoughts. This had to be a trap. Even if these souls were telling the truth about being freed from the Lich King, they were still Undead. What existence could they even have? Would it not be better simply to die than to remain as they were?
Thrall stared at the Undead Archmage who did not back down from the glare. “Do you realize what you are asking? You say that you consider yourselves Forsaken by the world and Life itself. The Horde is made up of living beings. What is to say you will not attack us the moment we turn our backs upon you? You ask us to accept you when you reject what we are?”
“We do not reject life,” the Archmage told him, though Ughbar noted that his companion fidgeted uncomfortably at that. “We are rejected by life. And to put it bluntly, Warchief, we have too many enemies. The rest of the world would see us destroyed. We have no one else to turn to and no one else to ask for aid.
And we do not come to you with nothing to offer. As I said, my title is that of an Archmage. We can offer the Horde our knowledge in exchange for your aid. We can offer the Horde the treasury of Lordaeron to aid in bringing the rest of your people to Kalimdor. Our alchemists are the finest in the world and they can offer their expertise. We can benefit the Horde in many ways.”
Thrall turned to his advisors. The Tauren elder, a shaman Ughbar thought, spoke first. “They have traveled a long way to seek aid. Perhaps they should be given a chance to prove themselves?”
“Agreed,” the Troll elder, a witch doctor, nodded his tusked head. “They could be given a task to prove both their loyalty and their value.”
Thrall seemed to agree. “There is a caravan that has gone missing recently in a storm. If you and your companions will aid in finding it and returning any survivors to safety, then I will consider your request to join the Horde.”
The Archmage bowed, “Very well. We shall do our best to find them.”
“I will send an escort along with you,” Thrall told him through narrow eyes. “As guides.”
And guards Ughbar thought. As the shadow of a cloud passed overhead Ughbar thought that he should do this. With a step forward he declared, “My Warchief, I volunteer for this task.”
Warchief Thrall nodded his approval as Ughbar and several other orcs volunteered for this task. Goldstrike wished him well as they set out to join their new charges. This could be interesting, the guard told himself.