World of Warcraft: The Shattering: Prelude to Cataclysm Page 0,4
home even before their masters. What weapons and ammunition there were seemed to have been gathering dust for a while. Once Cairne could make a proper assessment of what was going on, the several kodos who had also made the sea voyage, excellent beasts of burden, would help transport the cargo back to the ships.
Cairne felt the chill of the place. With the forges running, there would be more than enough heat generated to warm the cavernous, open area, but with them still and silent, the cold of Northrend had permeated. Cairne, seasoned veteran though he was, was almost overwhelmed by the size of the place. Larger certainly than Grommash Hold, probably even larger than some Horde cities, it was massive, open, and empty feeling. Their hooffalls echoed as he and his people moved toward the center of the first level.
Two orcs engaged in deep discussion turned as he approached. Cairne knew them both and nodded respectfully at them. The older one with green skin was Varok Saurfang, younger brother to the great hero Broxigar and father to the late, deeply grieved Dranosh Saurfang. Many had lost a great deal in this conflict; Varok more than anyone’s fair share.
His son had fallen, along with thousands of others, at Angrathar the Wrath Gate. On that dark day, Horde and Alliance had fought side by side against the best the Lich King could throw at them—even prompting that monster himself to appear. Young Saurfang fell, his soul consumed by Frostmourne. Moments later, a Forsaken known as Putress unleashed a plague that would destroy both the living and the undead.
More torment lay in store for the Saurfang line. The corpse of the young warrior was raised by the Lich King, then turned loose to destroy those he had loved in life. A blow more of mercy than of battle had ended his unnatural existence. Only with the fall of the Lich King had High Overlord Varok Saurfang been able to finally bring home the body of his boy—a corpse, now, and nothing more.
Grizzled, strong, Saurfang was everything that Cairne felt was best about the orcs. He had wisdom and honor, a powerful arm in battle, and a cool head for strategy. Cairne had not seen Saurfang since his son had fallen at the Wrath Gate, and he silently took in the aging such a deep pain had wrought. Cairne did not know if he, faced with such a horrific violation of all the tauren held dear in the shape of his child, could have borne the double loss half as well as Saurfang did.
“High Overlord,” Cairne rumbled, bowing. “As a father myself, I grieve for what you have had to endure. But know that your son died a hero, and what you have wrought here honors his memory. Anything else is borne away on the winds.”
Saurfang grunted acknowledgment. “It is good to see you again, High Chieftain Cairne Bloodhoof. And … I know what you say is true. I am not ashamed to say, though, that I am glad this campaign has finally come to an end. We have lost too much.”
The younger orc standing beside Saurfang grimaced, as if the words were distasteful to him, and it was clearly an effort for him to hold his tongue. His skin was not green, as was that of most orcs Cairne had met, but rather a shade of rich loam brown, marking him as a Mag’har from Outland. His pate was bald save for a long ponytail of brown hair. This, of course, was Garrosh Hellscream. No doubt to him it was dishonorable to admit that one was glad that battle had come to a close. The tauren chieftain knew that the passing years would teach him that while it was good to fight for a worthy cause and to earn victory, peace was also a good thing. But for now, despite the long, hard-fought war, Garrosh clearly had not had enough of combat, and this bothered Cairne.
“Garrosh,” Cairne said. “Word of your deeds has penetrated to all corners of Azeroth. I am sure you are very proud of your accomplishments here, as Saurfang is of his.”
The compliment was genuine, and Garrosh’s tense posture eased slightly. “How many of your troops will be returning with us?” continued Cairne.
“Nearly all of them,” Garrosh replied. “I leave a skeleton crew with Saurfang, and a few others at outposts here and there. I do not anticipate he will have need even of that. The Warsong offensive has