Jaina Proudmoore: Tides of War Read Online Free PDF Page B

Baine and Garrosh—the Blackrock orc. He did not touch Baine, but the tauren could almost feel the fire of the other’s banked rage churning. The gray-skinned orc’s eyes glittered, their coldness not tempering the heat of his anger but rather augmenting it. And Baine felt a prickle of unease. Who was this orc?
    “Malkorok,” said Garrosh. “Step down.”
    For what seemed an eternity, the Blackrock orc did not move. Baine had no desire for a confrontation—not here, not now. Attacking Garrosh, or this gray-skinned warrior who was clearly appointed specifically to defend him, would only further aggravate the young warchief and make him even more disinclined to listen to reason. At last, expelling air from his nostrils in a snort of contempt, Malkorok did as he was told.
    Garrosh moved forward, shoving his face up toward Baine’s.
    “This is not a time for peace! The time for war has come—it is long overdue ! Your own people have suffered from the expansion of the Alliance into your territory, unprovoked. If anyone should wish to destroy at the very least Northwatch Hold, it should be the tauren! You say that Jaina Proudmoore assisted you once. Are your loyalties now to her and the Alliance, who have killed your people… or to the mighty Horde and me?”
    Baine took a long, slow breath and let it out through his nostrils. He bent his head to within an inch of Garrosh’s and said, for that orc’s ears only, “If I were ever to turn my back on the Horde and you, it would have been before this moment, Garrosh Hellscream. If you believe nothing else I say, believe that.”
    For a heartbeat, it seemed to Baine that an expression of shame crossed Garrosh’s brown face. Then the scowl returned. Garrosh turned again to address the gathered crowd.
    “This is the will of your warchief,” he said bluntly. “This is the plan. First Northwatch Hold, then Theramore, then we drive the night elves before us and take for our own what was theirs. As for anyAlliance protests,” he said, sparing a brief glance for Sylvanas, “rest assured, they will be dealt with swiftly. I am grateful for your obedience in these matters, but I expected nothing less from the great Horde. Return now to your homes, and prepare. You will hear from me again soon. For the Horde!”
    The cheer, uttered so often and always with such passion, filled the hold. Baine joined in, but his heart was not in it. Not only was Garrosh’s plan dangerously reckless, which surely should have been enough to condemn it, but it was based on treachery and hatred. The Earth Mother could never give her blessing to such an endeavor.
    Garrosh waved Gorehowl above his head one final time, letting the weapon sing as the wind whistled through the holes in its blade, then lowered it. The Blackrock orc—Malkorok, Garrosh had named him—right behind Garrosh before even Eitrigg, before even the Kor’kron. The orcs encircling the gathering snapped to attention and followed their leader out of the hold.
    The crowd began to disperse. Baine saw the blue-skinned, red-haired troll leader moving toward him and slowed his own steps.
    “Ju baited him,” said Vol’jin without preamble.
    “I did. It… was not wise.”
    “No, it wasn’t. Dat why I stay quiet. Gotta tink about my people.”
    “I understand.” The trolls were in more immediate peril from Garrosh’s anger, living as close to Orgrimmar as they did. Baine did not blame Vol’jin. He glanced at the troll. “But I know what your heart is telling you.”
    Vol’jin sighed, looking somber, and nodded. “Dis a bad path we be walkin’ down.”
    “Tell me, do you know who this Malkorok is?”
    The troll scowled. “He be a Blackrock. Dey say he still don’t like da light of Durotar, after bein’ so long in Blackrock Mountain, servin’ Rend.”
    “I suspected as much,” growled Baine.
    “He denounced his crimes in service to Rend an’ asked for amnesty. Garrosh be givin’ it to him, along wit’ any others who