World of Warcraft: The Shattering: Prelude to Cataclysm Page 0,111
The recent attacks combined with the loss of Cairne and the disappearance of his son had left the tauren people unsettled. She felt certain that, in a desperate attempt to find normalcy again, the tauren would acknowledge her as their leader.
Baine, however, had slipped through their fingers. A spy had informed her that one of her own, Stormsong, had turned traitor. As Magatha sat in the lodge that had once been Cairne Bloodhoof’s seat of power, she fumed quietly. She had, of course, marked Stormsong for assassination but did not entertain any notions that he would be easily located. Doubtless he was with the pretender, as she had taken to calling (and encouraging others to call) Baine since the Grimtotem uprising. Stormsong would die with him, once Baine was found, but likely not until that anxiously awaited hour.
And as she had expected, for Magatha was no fool, the tauren in more far-flung places such as Feralas and of course the druidic stronghold Moonglade had already begun their rebellion. Couriers from other tribes brought word of their defiance, facing the expected immediate execution after bearing such bad news with a stoicism that irritated Magatha.
Other rumors were flying as well. That the pretender was in hiding in the Moonglade. That he had struck a deal with the Alliance in exchange for free trade with a recaptured Thunder Bluff. That he had the power of the Earth Mother behind him, and that his shaman and druids were able to harness trees to march and fight alongside them.
Of all these, there was one thing of which Magatha was certain: Baine was gathering reinforcements, and when he was strong enough, he would challenge her.
So lost in thought was she that it took Rahauro two tries to get her attention. She snorted, angry at woolgathering, knowing that among the younger ones it would appear as senility. She started to direct her anger not at her faithful servant but at the young orc courier who stood before her. Then her ears lifted as realization struck her. An orc meant …
She waved a hand. “Speak.”
“Elder Crone Magatha, I come from the acting warchief of the Horde, Garrosh Hellscream.”
Her eyes widened. Two days ago she had sent out a plea to Garrosh for assistance, knowing that at some point—and probably sooner than later—Baine would come, and many would come with him. The letter had been full of sincere-sounding compliments and praise for how he had managed the Horde. She had also dangled the lure of a formal alliance between the Grimtotem and the Horde if Garrosh lent his support in this venture. Surely Garrosh could use the Grimtotem’s unique … methods. Magatha had hoped that a response would come in the form of troops marching to assist her in defending Thunder Bluff, but apparently Garrosh had some questions, or else he wanted to apprise her of his thoughts.
Either way, she was pleased at the swift response. She smiled kindly at the orc.
“You are welcome here, courier. Please—take a moment to refresh yourself. Then read what your master has to say to me.”
She settled back in the chair, folding her arms across her belly, and waited as the orc gratefully took a long pull on the waterskin but declined food. Then, with a bow, he retrieved a leather tube from his pack, withdrew a scroll, and read in a strong, clear voice:
“Unto Elder Crone Magatha of the Grimtotem,
Acting warchief of the Horde, Garrosh Hellscream,
Sends his most sincere wishes for a slow and painful death.”
A gasp rippled around the room. Magatha went very still, then with a speed that belied her age she bolted from the chair, backhanded the courier, and held the scroll at arm’s length to accommodate her increasingly poor vision to read it for herself.
It has come to my attention that you have deprived me of a rightful kill. Cairne Bloodhoof was a hero to the Horde, and an honorable member of a usually honorable race. It is with disgust and anger that I discover you have caused me to bring about his death through accidental treachery.
Such tactics may work well for your renegade, honorless tribe and Alliance scum, but I despise them. It was my wish to fight Cairne fairly, and win or lose by my own skill or lack of it. Now I shall never know, and the cry of traitor will dog my steps until such time as I can sport your head on a pike and point to you as the real traitor.