"Where did Bagger run off to slack off?"
The Orc Foreman of Warsong Lumber Camp, whip in hand, cursed and searched for the missing Peon's tracks. But even as the sun set and most people were heading back to rest, the Foreman still hadn't found the vanished Peon.
Having no other choice, the Foreman could only accept it. This forest always held an unexplainable strangeness, as if it were alive. If that unlucky fellow, who knew where he'd run off to, was eaten by a bear or a wolf, he had only himself to blame.
Among the Orcish Horde, especially in a clan like the Warsong Clan that revered strength, orcs whose physiques were slightly weaker than Orc warriors and lacked the strength to fight had no status whatsoever.
orcs of this type, aside from being reduced to Peons, essentially had no other path.
Although the New Horde led by Thrall was trying its best to eliminate some of the Old Horde's bad habits, at least within the Warsong Clan ruled by Grommash, the Old Horde's rules were still in effect.
The disappearance of a Peon was not a big deal, because in the eyes of the Warsong Orcs, they were no different from consumables.
What worried the Foreman was that each Foreman had a set quota of lumber to turn in. With his Peons missing, the labor force would naturally decrease, and whether he could turn in his quota on time was an unknown.
Now, Thrall was leading the orcs to build new cities and homes, which required a large amount of lumber. The Warsong Lumber Camp was already operating beyond capacity, and the Foreman had no idea where he would find someone to fill the missing position.
However, what the Orc Foreman failed to notice was that, while searching for the whereabouts of the Orc Peon Bagger, he had unknowingly walked out of the Warsong Lumber Camp's Vigilance range and deeper into the ancient forest.
By the time he realized it, he could no longer see the Lumber Camp's firelight.
Standing in the center of the dark forest, a sudden, inexplicable panic rose in the Orc Foreman's heart, as if countless eyes were watching him.
He lit a torch and held it high, trying to see what was hidden behind the layers of tree canopies.
—"Whoosh!"
A faint, air-slicing tremor came, and the Orc Foreman's vision went black as his torch fell to the ground.
Crimson blood slowly flowed out, and the Foreman's corpse fell to the ground, its bulky body extinguishing the torch's flame. The entire forest returned to darkness, forming a distinct dividing line with the brightly lit, log-piled Lumber Camp.
With a few extremely subtle sounds, several agile figures leaped through the tree canopies and branches, disappearing without a trace in an instant.
......
"Useless! Can't you even keep an eye on the Peons at a lumber camp?!" Grommash angrily threw the missing persons roster to the ground. "Do I have to personally oversee even something like this?!"
"But, Warchief, we searched the surrounding forest. Forget orcs, we couldn't even find a rabbit." The reprimanded Orc Overseer's expression was bitter. "Now those Peons are very scared, and their work efficiency has dropped significantly."
"A bunch of useless idiots! So many people have gone missing, there must be some danger near this lumber camp, and you're telling me now that you've only searched the surrounding forest?!" Grommash suddenly stood up, his imposing figure standing before the Overseer.
The Orc Overseer swallowed hard—he was not a coward, otherwise he wouldn't have become an Orc Overseer, but the Warchief of the Warsong Clan, Grommash Hellscream, there were probably only a few people in the entire Horde who dared to face him directly.
This enraged Orc warrior had countless great feats and achievements. Even the current Warchief Thrall would give this veteran of the Horde three points of deference.
Now facing Grommash's wrath, the Orc Overseer was trembling slightly, unsure what to say.
"What are you still standing around for? Go gather your men!" Grommash looked at the Overseer with annoyance, and after passing him, he took down the battle axe Bloodhowl hanging on the wall. "I will personally lead the men to see what is causing this mischief!"
"Yes… Yes!"
The Warchief of the Warsong Clan quickly assembled the clan's elite warriors and charged into the dense forests of Ashenvale.
At the same time, in the ancient Elven ruins not far north of the Warsong Lumber Camp, the Orc Peon Bagger, whose body was occupied by a Dreadlords, was casting evil magic among the ruins of the buildings.
He wanted to take this opportunity to see if he could find any ancient Elven holy relics left behind from antiquity, after all, it was that group of Elves who had summoned the Legion in the first place.
Perhaps what they left behind could help Tichondrius find a way to contact the Legion.
The current situation was that they dared not expose themselves in the Eastern Kingdoms. That mad prince was like a shark smelling blood, seeking out every trace of demons.
And his subordinates, that group of "fanatics" who believed in the Holy Light, had conducted a carpet search of Lordaeron and its surrounding areas.
Perhaps Arthas himself still felt the search was not thorough enough, but only those involved understood that this level of search covered almost all areas they could exploit.
One might ask, if all areas where demons could potentially infiltrate were strictly guarded by Paladins and spies, how could these demons, no matter how cunning, not leave any trace?
So, in the end, all the Dreadlords reached an agreement: they decided to temporarily abandon their schemes in the Eastern Kingdoms and instead focus their attention on the distant Kalimdor.
This continent was the true land where ancient civilizations survived. The Elves who had once repelled the Burning Legion were recuperating in the mountains not far from this forest.
But what made Tichondrius somewhat smug was that these Elves seemed to believe their ancient practices were a dead end, and thus abandoned Arcane magic, returning to the ridiculous path of the Druids.
The Night Elves did not discover Tichondrius, who was hidden by magic. Instead, they were led by the Dreadlords' intentionally left traces to the location of the Horde Lumber Camp.
Tichondrius knew these old adversaries too well: the Elves who studied the path of the Druids emphasized the balanced development of nature, and the orcs' destructive logging methods would certainly displease the Elves.
The arrogance and conceit of these Elves were ingrained. Even after ten thousand years, they still hadn't realized that what attracted the Burning Legion was not the magical power of the Well of Eternity, but their endless craving for power… and their arrogant nature that prevented them from ever recognizing their own mistakes.
It is probable that these Elves, until the moment the Well of Eternity was completely destroyed and their empire and world crumbled piece by piece, never realized what their actions had brought upon Azeroth.
Now, Tichondrius was very interested to see if, ten thousand years later, these conceited Elves would repeat the same actions.