Danath turned an angry, anguished face to the elf. "They killed Kurdran!"
The news had shaken a group of men who were already exhausted from the brutal pace Danath had set them. When the Wildhammers had returned, making no effort to hide the tears in their eyes at the thought of their fallen — including their beloved leader — Danath had been forced to turn away himself. He'd lost so many, and now the bluff, jovial dwarf too — how many would have to die before these damned green things were stopped?
"I know," Talthressar said quietly. "And you will not honor his spirit if you take men too exhausted to fight to avenge him. They will simply join him in death."
Danath scowled, but he knew the elf was right. He'd pushed his men hard all the way from the orcish citadel trying to catch Ner’zhul's forces in time. It was ironic that now that they had, they were too tired to do anything about it.
"One night," he said finally. "We'll camp one night, rest, and attack at first light."
"A wise choice," Talthressar agreed, and as usual Danath could not tell if the ranger was being sarcastic or sincere. And, as he always did, he decided to ignore the elf's tone and take his words at face value.
"Have the men fall out and set up camp." Danath instructed his lieutenant. "We attack at dawn." Then, trusting his subordinates to take charge, he dismounted and led his exhausted and thirsty horse down to the river to drink. He splashed water on his dusty, sweaty face and drank deeply himself, then headed back to virtually collapse in his tent.
A few hours later when Danath awoke, he was surprised to see not only other tents but also several tall posts outlining a large, rough square.
"What is all this?" he asked Herrick, one of his sergeants. "We're only here one night."
Herrick shrugged. "Some of the men mentioned this'd be a good place for a fort." he explained. "They wanted to set posts to mark it out. I didn't see the harm to it, so I said yes. It went fast — the elves helped."
"In light of the sacrifice of our dwarven friends, I thought it would be a good gesture," said Talthressar, stepping from the shade of a nearby tree and gliding over to them. "We are, after all, an alliance. How better to symbolize that than to start a stronghold together?"
Danath stared at the elf. "You're the one who was pointing out how tired my men were! And now instead of resting they're cutting and placing posts?"
Talthressar smiled. "It is but a few posts, and many hands make light work, see for yourself the results," Danath looked where he indicated. Dwarf, human, and elf stood together talking quietly. They still looked tired, but there were smiles on their faces, and one of Danath's men clapped the elf and dwarf on the shoulders as they spoke.
"Your men were right. Not only does it have strategic value, but this is the only place we have seen thus far on this planet that was not red and lifeless. This forest, at least, is still very much alive. If we some day return to these woods and complete what was begun here today, we shall name it the Allerian Stronghold. It is fitting — the orcs destroyed much of Quel'Thalas, and so in return we will claim this, the one green region left upon this forsaken world. And if not, these posts will stand as a reminder that the Alliance entered this forest and claimed it as their own."
Talthressar's voice had more passion in this short speech than Danath had ever heard from him before. Danath took another look at his men and nodded. "Let's get those orcs first, eh?"
He accepted the food Herrick pressed upon him, found a quiet place by one of the campfires to eat, and then stretched out his legs, crossed his arms over his chest, leaned back against the tree trunk behind him, and again fell asleep.
Danath started awake to the sound of yelling in Thalassian and a strange, eerie squawking sound. He leaped to his feet. "What's going on?"
He didn't get a verbal answer in the chaos. Running toward the source of the noise, Danath saw what seemed to him like a dozen elves piled atop something that was making the awful screeching sound.
"Step back!" he ordered. The elves reluctantly rose, dusting themselves off, while two of their fellows kept a firm grip on one of the strangest things Danath had ever seen. The intruder wore deep purple robes, now torn and stained with blood and grass. It was about the size of a man and had arms and legs, but the resemblance stopped there.
Jutting from the cowl was not a human face, but the head of a bird.
It had a long, sharp face, most of it a glossy violet beak, and slanting oval eyes that glowed yellow in the night. A cluster of feathers rose above each eye like a human brow, and these merged with the shock of red, purple, gold, and brown feathers all around the head to form the equivalent of hair. One bright eye was partially closed; the elves had not been gentle in their capture.
"What manner of creature are you, and what were you doing skulking about our camp?" Talthressar demanded.
"You're wasting your breath," Danath said. "It can't understand our language."
"But Grizzik, yes! He does! And no harm he means!" The creature's voice was a strange trill, but clearly understandable. Danath blinked at him.
"He's like a trained parrot — all sound, no meaning," one of the men muttered, and raised a fist to silence the bird-man.
"No, wait," Danath ordered. "Say that again."
"Grizzik! No harm he means, no no! Only want to know — who you be? Why you come?"
Danath glanced at Talthressar, who shrugged, stepped back, and let Danath direct the inquisition.
"Your name's Grizzik?" At the rapid nodding, Danath continued, “Answer our questions and maybe well answer yours. What are you?"
"Grizzik is arakkoa," the bird-man answered, his words oddly clipped and each followed with whistles and sighs. "Old race. Oldest maybe in world. Grizzik curious. No harm!"
"So you keep saying. But why were you spying on us? How do you know our language?"
"Arakkoa clever," Grizzik said proudly. "Smart. Grizzik follow you, listen close, learn fast! Think you strange. Curious."
"Are the arakkoa friends of the Horde or their enemies?"
That produced the greatest reaction yet. Grizzik's facial feathers puffed up like a frightened bird's and he huddled in on himself. "Fear and hate them Grizzik… I… do. Not bad once. I have seen. But now…" He shivered.
Danath had seen enough of Grizzik by now to realize he was no physical threat and nodded to the elves who still held the intruder. "Give him water, and tend to his wounds," he told them. To Grizzik, he said, "Explain.”
"Arakkoa ancient people. We stay to selves. But! We watch peaceful draenei, primitive orcs. But who could know? Madness come to orcs. What — we know not."
Despite his heavy robe, he shivered, feathers shifting uneasily before he made a visible effort to continue. "Orcs and the draenei not friends — but they not hate. Respect."
"Whoa, whoa," said Danath, holding up a hand. "Slow down. Orcs and draenei! Draenei as in Draenor?"
"Draenor is name they call world, yes. They proud of selves, they name whole world for selves. They strong… before."
"You said there was a madness… the orcs turned on these draenei?"
Grizzik nodded. "Yes, yes. Once many, many draenei. They use bright light. Live here long time. They think selves strong and good, no one stop draenei, no no. But orcs—" Grizzik made a whooshing sound and swept his arm before him. "Gone. Only few left now. Now once-proud draenei hide away."
Danath felt a chill. "The orcs… wiped out a whole civilization?" He glanced up at Talthressar. "Sounds like the Horde did a practice run before they came to Azeroth."
"Indeed it docs. Except Azeroth did not fall to them as Draenor has. We were stronger."
"Luckier, maybe." He shook his head, his face hard. “A whole civilization of peaceful people. What a damned shame." He returned his attention to the arakkoa. "Keep talking. You said the draenei were peaceful, but also powerful, and that the orcs were primitive at first. How is it they were able to wipe out these draenei?" "The orcs…” Grizzik groped for words. "Come together. No longer separate."