Vol’jin nodded at the food. “Talk be wiser when bellies be full,” he said. The food was consumed, and of course, this being Pandaria, there was plenty of beer to wash it down with. Once everyone was settled, Vol’jin wasted no time getting down to business.
“My orc brothers and sister, you know how much I be respecting you. But I think if we want to have Garrosh defended by an orc, we be making sure the Alliance gonna veto us.”
Go’el nodded. “It is deeply regrettable that Garrosh has fallen so far that he has brought a whole race with him in the eyes of others. Nothing an orc Defender can say would be taken seriously, for good or ill.”
Baine disagreed. “On the contrary: I believe it might be good for everyone to see an orc behaving with honor during so public an event. Eitrigg is known for his calm manner and wise head.”
But the old orc was shaking that wise head even before Baine had finished speaking. “Your words mean much to me, High Chieftain, but Go’el is right. I, and he, and Saurfang will have our chance to speak if we wish. Taran Zhu has promised us, and I believe him.”
“I will defend Garrosh,” said Sylvanas. “It is well known that he and I disagreed. The Alliance could never accuse me of going soft.”
“You be a great Accuser for Garrosh, that much be true,” Vol’jin said. “But we be looking for a Defender.”
“Come now, Warchief,” Sylvanas said. “No one here wants to see Garrosh leave this place for any destination other than the executioner’s block! You know this! You yourself once said—”
“I know what I once said better than you, Sylvanas,” Vol’jin said, his voice a low warning. “And you were not the one being left for dead with a slashed throat. I know what all of us here suffered under his rule. But I also know that the celestials be looking for as close to a fair trial as mortal beings can give. I think there be only one proper choice for the job. Someone respected by both the Horde and the Alliance, who has no love for Garrosh but who never gonna lie, or do any less than his best.”
He turned to Baine.
For a blissful second, Baine simply thought that the troll was turning to him for his opinion. And then he understood.
“Me?” he bellowed. “By the Earth Mother, Garrosh slew my father!”
“You make the warchief’s point for him,” said Lor’themar. “Despite the wrongs Garrosh has done you personally, you were loyal to the Horde until such time as you believed he was harming it too. The Alliance has plenty of spies, and you have a good history with the lady Proudmoore.”
Baine turned to Go’el, his large eyes pleading with the orc to intervene. Instead, Go’el smiled. “The tauren have always been the heart of the Horde. If anyone can defend Garrosh and be listened to, it will be you, my friend.”
“I don’t want to defend him—I want what you want,” Baine snapped. “Garrosh has earned death a hundred times over.”
“Make them listen,” came a voice that had hitherto been quiet. It was deep, strong despite age, and a sharp thread of pain ran through it. “There is no challenge in flinging a list of atrocities at Garrosh’s head,” said Saurfang. “The test will be who can make the judge and jury truly listen. To hear you speak for calm consideration when all know how you suffer—only you can do that, Baine Bloodhoof.”
“I am a warrior, not a priest! I do not fill my mouth with soft, pleasing words or play on heartstrings.”
“Garrosh is a warrior too,” Go’el said. “For good or ill, you are as close to a fair representative as we can muster.”
Baine champed his teeth and turned to Vol’jin. “If I could be loyal to the Horde and my warchief when that title was held by Garrosh, I can certainly be loyal to you, who have always been worthy, Vol’jin.”
“I be not ordering you,” Vol’jin said, placing his hand on the tauren’s shoulder. “You need to follow your heart on this.”
Things were not turning out the way Sylvanas Windrunner had desired. Not in the slightest.
First, she had hoped—as every member of the Horde, even softhearted Go’el, obviously did—that they had been called here to decide which of them would perform the coveted task of slaying Garrosh. Preferably slowly, and while inflicting a great deal of pain. Varian Wrynn had already averted that pleasant outcome for too long, and to hear that the celestials wanted an all-out trial was ludicrous. Even they and Taran Zhu admitted that Garrosh was guilty. The very notion of “justice” and “not acting out of revenge” was far too nauseating to be worth the time and effort expended. Sylvanas reflected that the only saving grace was the hope that she might at least be able to speak and add her truth to the sky-high mound of evidence of Garrosh’s shortcomings. She was also pleased that Taran Zhu was the pandaren chosen as fa’shua. He was, she mused, probably the only pandaren who would accept a death penalty; most of the others she had observed would have simply bundled off Garrosh and poured beer down his throat till the orc drunkenly sobbed that he was sorry.
She did not expect to be chosen as the Defender, and knew that Vol’jin was right to say that she would make a better Accuser, if nothing else.
But Baine?
The most placid “warrior” she had ever seen, bred from a race of gentle people?
Madness, all of it. Baine had more of a reason than even she to wish Garrosh dead. The orc should have been Baine’s own personal Arthas, and yet she knew the tauren would, if he accepted, probably argue so well that everyone would want to give Garrosh flowers instead.
Baine’s ears drooped as he sighed heavily. “I will undertake this task,” he said, “though I have utterly no idea how to achieve it.”
Sylvanas had to exert a conscious effort to keep her lip from curling in a sneer.
Ji poked his head in. “The Alliance has chosen their Accuser. If you are ready as well, we can reconvene in the arena.”
They followed him back up the snow-dusted trail. The Alliance representatives were already there, and turned to regard their Horde counterparts. Taran Zhu waited until everyone had arrived, then addressed the two groups. “Each of you has made your decision. Warchief Vol’jin, whom have you selected to defend Garrosh Hellscream?”
Defend Garrosh Hellscream. The very words were an offense.
“We choose High Chieftain Baine Bloodhoof of the tauren people,” Vol’jin said.
“Alliance? Do you have any objection?”
Varian turned his dark head to look at his fellows. No one spoke; indeed, as Vol’jin had predicted, many of the Alliance seemed pleased. To Sylvanas’s disbelief, Varian’s spawn even had a small smile.
“The Alliance accepts the choice of Baine Bloodhoof, who is known to be honorable,” Varian announced.
Taran Zhu nodded once. “King Varian, whom does the Alliance put forth to serve as Accuser of Garrosh Hellscream?”
“I will serve in this capacity,” Varian replied.
“Absolutely not!” Sylvanas retorted. “You are done ordering us about!” She was not alone; other angry voices were raised in protest, and Taran Zhu had to shout to be heard over them.
“Peace, peace!” Despite the literal meaning of the word, his voice was commanding, and the cries subsided to mutterings and then dwindled. “Warchief Vol’jin, do you exercise your right to reject King Varian as Accuser?”
Varian had few friends among the Horde. Many distrusted his apparent personality change, and even his refusal to occupy Orgrimmar had won him only grudging acknowledgment. Humans were the enemy, would always be the enemy, and Sylvanas could see that the Horde’s displeasure with the trial in the first place would only become the sourer if they had to watch Varian speak as Accuser. It seemed as though Vol’jin saw this, too.
“Yes, Lord Taran Zhu. We gonna exercise our right to veto,” he said.