"Destroyer's Hammer!"
A thunderous shout drew the attention of the orc warchief.
He looked around and saw one of his warriors pointing into the distance.
Could more cavalry be approaching?
A grimace crossed his face.
Alliance cavalry, especially mounted archers, had proven to be formidable foes.
Though humans weren't as physically strong as orcs, their cavalry could still pierce through the orcs' loosely coordinated formations.
The mounted archers, in particular, were the chief culprits of the chaos behind Horde lines, leaving the orcs in Arathi Highlands unable to protect their rear.
But when he followed the direction his warrior was pointing, Orgrim realized it wasn't an army approaching, just a lone rider.
Finally, the warchief could breathe a little easier, human reinforcements hadn't arrived so soon after all; this had just been the vanguard.
As the black silhouette in the distance grew larger, Orgrim finally made out the rider.
It wasn't a human cavalryman atop a warhorse, but one of his own, an orc wolf rider on a towering frost wolf.
"Where did he come from?" Orgrim was puzzled.
Most of the Horde's wolf riders were either under the command of the Blackhand brothers or had been decimated in the battle against the mounted archers, where the enemy had kited and slaughtered most of them.
Still, some remained, serving as guards or messengers among the clans, there had been quite a few assigned to Gul'dan's forces.
So, was this rider from Gul'dan's detachment or from Arathi Highlands?
The wolf rider quickly entered the Horde's ranks.
An orc leapt down from his saddle, and Orgrim strode up to him, slinging his warhammer behind his back.
"Where's the Destroyer's Hammer?" the rider called out. "I have urgent news!"
"I'm here," Orgrim responded, as his warriors cleared a path for him. "What's going on?"
The rider turned to face him, and Orgrim suddenly recalled having seen this warrior before.
He was once a wolf rider of the Blackrock Clan, a powerful fighter, chosen to join Orgrim's campaign through the Hinterlands, and eventually into Alterac.
Just this morning, Orgrim had dispatched him with Gul'dan to pursue the Alliance cavalry.
Vaduka, that was his name.
"I bring news," Vaduka said loudly. A strange expression spread across his broad face, Orgrim saw anger, distress, and perhaps even shame and fear.
"Well then, speak," Orgrim replied, stepping closer to the wolf and the rider.
The nearby orcs, recognizing the gravity of the moment, stepped back to give them space for a private conversation.
"Gul'dan… that despicable warlock!" Vaduka spat.
He was a tall orc, as tall as Orgrim himself, but he refused to meet the warchief's eyes.
"He ran."
"What?" Now Orgrim understood the fear in the rider's face.
He felt his blood boiling with rage. His hands clenched the haft of his hammer so tightly that the wood groaned in protest.
"When? How did he do it?"
"Shortly after we left the main force," Vaduka explained.
"He and those Twilight's Hammer cultists and the Ravage Clan conspirators… they planned everything together. They claimed it was your order."
Now he looked up, the fear in his eyes replaced by fury.
"One of my comrades sensed something was off and confronted them. Gul'dan used his foul magic and killed him.
I saw it happen! I wanted to stop him, but I knew I had to bring this news to you, so I fled when they weren't looking."
Orgrim nodded.
"You did the right thing."
He affirmed the rider's choice.
"If Gul'dan was willing to kill the one who caught on, he wouldn't have hesitated to kill you too. That way, no one could report his betrayal."
He bared his teeth in a snarl.
"That bastard! I always knew he couldn't be trusted! And now he's run off with my men!"
"We can still catch him," Vaduka urged. "They haven't gone far in this short time. Alterac's rugged mountain paths will slow them down."
Orgrim nodded.
"You're right, but only if we don't have other problems," he said, slamming his hammer to the ground.
"I don't know where he's running to, but I do know this, we can't waste time chasing him. If we do, the Alliance army will strike us down."
Orgrim's mood was foul. He cursed himself for his foolishness.
His eagerness to defeat the humans had dulled the instincts he had always trusted, he had grown lax toward the warlock.
That instinct had warned him countless times that Gul'dan only looked out for himself.
Vaduka still stood by, awaiting orders, but both of them turned toward an orc running toward them.
It was Sarbek, Orgrim's young second-in-command from the Blackrock Clan. He halted nearby, seeing that his warchief was deep in conversation.
"What is it?" Orgrim asked.
"There's a problem," Sarbek said bluntly. "The mountain pass has been cut off."
"What?" Orgrim turned, eyes scanning the direction of the Alterac Mountains. "What happened?"
Sarbek shook his head.
"I don't know," he replied.
"But we can't use that pass anymore. I send warriors to monitor it every day, aside from the one at Broken Ridge. Not one of today's scouts has returned."
The implication was clear, those scouts should have come back by now.
"Damn it," Orgrim ground his teeth. "It must be another Alliance force seizing the pass."
He thought again of that warrior who, with just a few hundred men, had managed to block their route between Lordaeron and Alterac, Mograine.
Perhaps Lordaeron reinforcements had arrived, following that same warrior who hadn't died in battle and now returned with allies.
Yes, that seemed the most likely.
Lothar had advanced from Hillsbrad Foothills, retracing the Horde's original path. Lordaeron's forces must have taken the northern route, securing that mountain region.
Regardless, none of that changed their current predicament.
"If they came through that pass, how long until they get here?" he asked.
Sarbek shrugged.
"Hard to say," he admitted. "But at least half a day, maybe more."
He looked around.
"We still have a lot of warriors here," Sarbek pointed out. "And when Gul'dan returns, we'll have even more. We can take this town before the enemy arrives."
Orgrim gave a bitter smile, still deep in thought.
"The others? They're not coming back!"
Sarbek looked stunned.
"Gul'dan betrayed us," Orgrim told his lieutenant and slowly recounted what had happened. "He took a whole detachment and used the pursuit as cover to escape."
"But why would he do that?" Sarbek asked, utterly confused. "If we lose this war, he'll have nowhere to go. He'll be ruined too."
Orgrim shook his head.
"He never cared about this war," he said, recalling the sight of the warlock in Stormwind.
"He found something. Something incredibly powerful," he said vaguely. "Something that makes him strong enough to no longer need the Horde's protection."
"Then what should we do?" Sarbek pressed, glancing back at the city.
"We don't have enough soldiers now to take it," he added.
Orgrim didn't want to look. He knew his lieutenant was right.
The city was far more fortified than he'd expected, and its defenders were equally tenacious.
The Alliance's surprise attack from behind had caused heavy casualties among their ranks.
And now, they had no one capable of countering the mages inside the city.
But that wasn't the only weight crushing Orgrim's heart. Gul'dan's betrayal was heinous enough, but he'd also taken orcs with him.
They'd placed personal ambition above the Horde. They had chosen selfish gain over the needs of their people.
That, that was what had driven Orgrim to kill Blackhand and seize control of the Horde. He'd wanted to end such corruption and restore honor to his people.
This betrayal would not be forgiven, no matter the cost it might bring to the Horde or to Orgrim himself.
But for now, Orgrim had to figure out how to keep his forces alive.