“Show him in, and leave us” he said. Eitrigg nodded and a moment later, a small, scrawny, nondescript human male was brought in. He looked exhausted, undernourished, and terrified.
Thrall rose to his full imposing height without thinking, then realized he might intimidate the human. “Will you take food or drink?” he asked, keeping his voice gentle.
The spy shook his head, then amended. “W-Water, if you please.” in a voice that cracked. The Warchief himself poured a goblet and handed it to the man, who gulped thirstily, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
“My thanks. Warchief.” the spy said, sounding a bit calmer.
“Your news.” Thrall said.
The man paled. Thrall sighed inwardly. He would never be so brutal—or so foolish—as to kill a messenger for bringing bad news. Such behavior merely resulted in no one’s wanting to serve as messenger. He smiled in what he hoped was a reassuring fashion.
“Do not fear. Your news, good or ill, is welcome if it aids me in protecting my people.” he said.
The man looked slightly less distressed. He took a deep breath.
“My lord,” he said. He hesitated, then continued grimly, “The draenei have come to Azeroth.”
Thrall was puzzled. He exchanged glances with Eitrigg, who shrugged.
“Some draenei have been in Azeroth for years.” he said. “They are nicknamed the lost ones. We know about them. This is not news, friend.”
The man looked stricken. “You don’t understand,” he said, urgently. “Not those pathetic creatures—draenei! There—there was ship. From the skies. It crashed like an infernal stone two nights ago.”
Thrall inhaled swiftly. No one had missed seeing that strange object in the night sky, looking like a star crashing to earth. So … it had not been a star, nor even an infernal. It had been a vessel …
The man was still talking. “Proudmoore has agreed to aid them. There is one among them—pale, noble, his presence commanding, though he is not physically strong. They call him Velen.”
Thrall stared. The draenei? The Prophet Velen? Here?
He sank slowly in his chair as the full significance struck him.
The worst enemy the orcs had ever known had come to Azeroth. Had been welcomed into the Alliance.
How could there possibly be peace between Horde and Alliance now?
“Ancestors save us,” Thrall whispered.