Rhodes knew immediately that things had taken a turn for the worse. It seemed that if you didn't interfere with the gears of history, they would inevitably grind back toward their original course.
Uther and Princess Calia had indeed made preparations, but some things remained unavoidable. He was glad he'd followed his intuition and returned; otherwise, the consequences would have been unthinkable.
Standing beside him, Jaina's expression shifted as well. Rhodes's prophetic ability through the Light was far too accurate—her father really had come into conflict with the Orcs.
So what exactly happened? Did those greenskins break the treaty again and launch a proactive strike against Theramore? she wondered. Her father had promised not to initiate an attack, so what was the truth?
"Soldiers, I need to understand the situation in Theramore. Why has a conflict with the Horde broken out?" Rhodes said, nodding to the guards before him.
On the surface, things didn't look beyond repair. At least Theramore City itself was fine, and the people inside seemed to be going about their lives. This meant a full-scale war hadn't erupted yet; otherwise, the Horde's armies would have already breached the gates.
In the original timeline, players might have thought the Horde didn't hold a massive advantage, but the reality was that Theramore was the one nearly toppled. In terms of pure numbers, the humans were at a disadvantage because the Eastern Kingdoms were their foundation, while Theramore was just a small colonial port.
However, thanks to Rhodes's efforts, this version of Theramore was much larger. Still, with many refugees having returned to Lordaeron, the city felt somewhat empty, with a population of fewer than 100,000.
"Ever since the Grand Admiral took over the city's defense, he's kept the fleet patrolling the high seas while he stayed in the city to clear out the surrounding Centaur tribes, Gnolls, and Thunder Lizards," one officer explained. "Everything was peaceful until about a week ago. One of our outlying outposts was ambushed; every soldier inside was killed."
"In the camp, several Orcs appeared. The leader was a massive brown-skinned Orc with Ogre blood and an enormous bear by his side. He was accompanied by a Pandaren and a Troll. The Admiral concluded they were the ones who attacked our camp, and a fight broke out. Since then, it's been a mess. The Orcs claim we attacked them, which is ridiculous! We were developing our own territory. Our scouts were murdered first, yet they have the gall to point the finger at us."
Rhodes frowned as he listened. A human outpost was hit, and Orcs were blamed—but the Orcs claimed they were the victims.
"Rhodes, it looks like things are exactly as you feared," Jaina said, turning to him. "We need to find my father immediately. You know the new Warchief of the Horde; perhaps you can talk to him."
In this timeline, Jaina had very little contact with Thrall—they were essentially strangers. Rhodes, however, had a history with the Warchief.
"I understand. Good work, everyone. Jaina, come with me to find your father," Rhodes said.
Feeling that something was fishy, Rhodes began to recall the "Founding of Durotar" campaign from the Frozen Throne. There were many side quests involving hunting beasts, gathering materials, and fighting in arenas. He remembered a specific quest where the Horde discovered a human outpost. At the time, the Orcs didn't attack; they reported it to Thrall. Subsequently, that outpost was attacked—not by Orcs, but by a group of Naga.
In that original story, Rexxar and his companions arrived just as the dust settled, leading to a clash with Daelin's forces. Because Daelin was hell-bent on eradicating the Horde, he never bothered to investigate; he just attacked. Now, it seemed the same misunderstanding—or a "third hand" stirring the pot—was at play.
"Soldier, tell me everything about the attacked outpost," Rhodes commanded.
"Yes, Regent," the soldier replied, reciting the details from memory. "The outpost is located on the eastern side of the Ashenvale forests, near the Venture Co. lumber mill. When we arrived, the battle was over. The scene was... gruesome. Everyone was down, weapons scattered, clear signs of a violent struggle."
"Did you find anything unusual?" Rhodes pressed. "Aside from sword or axe wounds, were there signs of bites from large beasts, or perhaps elemental or magical attacks?"
His suspicion regarding the Naga was growing clearer. Only a few Naga were mages; most fought like savage beasts, their methods barbaric and cruel. Rhodes even suspected these Naga weren't subordinates of Queen Azshara, but rather part of the Old Gods' forces. In Azeroth, the two groups most likely to cause trouble behind the scenes were the Dreadlords and the Old Gods.
The soldier thought for a moment, then his eyes lit up. "Now that you mention it, yes! Some of the wounds were strange—not cut by blades, but torn by huge claws. There was corrosion around the edges of the wounds, and they smelled... fishy, like seawater. We thought it was crocodiles from the marsh or some other monster, but now it feels off."
"Sea stench... corrosive claw marks..." Rhodes muttered, exchanging a grave look with Jaina.
As a mage, Jaina was sensitive to energy traces. She realized immediately that something was wrong. "That doesn't sound like Orcs or Ogres. Orcish axes leave clean, direct wounds. Ogres usually cause blunt force trauma. Corrosive claw strikes..."
"It's the Naga," Rhodes said decisively. "Only those monsters from the deep leave traces and smells like that."
"Rhodes, are you saying the ones who hit our outpost weren't Orcs? That someone—the Naga—is trying to provoke a war between us?" Jaina asked, her face pale.
"It's almost certain. Your father promised not to start a war, but with his temper, if Orcs are spotted near a massacre of his men, he won't hold back. Plus, the Kul Tiran fleet needs supplies; your father likely expanded our territory right up to the Orcish border," Rhodes sighed.
The picture was coming into focus. The Naga likely hit the human outpost, then purposefully left a trail or were simply spotted by Rexxar, Chen Stormstout, and Rokhan as they arrived to investigate. To Daelin, seeing Orcs standing over the bodies of his soldiers was all the "proof" his grief and hatred needed.
Meanwhile, on the Horde side, someone probably hit the Tauren, the Darkspear Trolls, or Durotar itself. Thrall likely sent Rexxar to investigate, and the two sides happened to collide at the worst possible moment.
Damn you, Old Gods, Rhodes thought.
He immediately ordered the soldiers to lead him to Daelin. If his timing was right, his "father-in-law" was likely in the middle of a skirmish right now.
"Yes, Regent! This way!"
Led by the soldiers, Rhodes and Jaina hurried toward the eastern edge of the Ashenvale forests. On the way, Rhodes gathered more intel; it seemed the conflict was still in the "skirmish" phase. This meant Thrall didn't want a full war yet, which was a good sign.
Soon, they reached the ruined outpost. It was just as described: a mess of collapsed wooden palisades and blackened bloodstains. Two groups were currently locked in a tense standoff. On one side was a detachment led by the Grand Admiral himself. On the other were the legendary heroes of the Horde.
At the front stood the massive, brown-skinned Mok'Nathal—Rexxar—with his twin axes strapped to his back. Beside him were his loyal bear Misha, a great hawk, and a spirit boar. To one side was the Pandaren Chen Stormstout, eyeing the scene curiously while leaning on his keg; on the other was the Darkspear shadow hunter Rokhan, spear and glaives at the ready.
"Humans! Again!" Rexxar roared. "You murdered our scouts on patrol, and now your leader attacks us without cause! Warchief Thrall desires peace, but the Horde's patience has limits! You will answer for this!"