"Unlike their kin,
The Dark Iron Dwarves relied more on the mystic arts,
Believing that the union of science and this unexplored direction
Could give the world something amazing.
But in their thirst for magical mysteries
They went too far,
Which pushed their noble dream into the distant background.
And brought consequences that still haunt their entire people to this day."
My changes were proceeding far better and easier than I had feared.
And what was there to expect!? Take away a dwarf's beer and decent grub, and he'll turn into a creature worse than a troll; but as soon as you return it all, you won't find a better friend.
And so it was for me: as soon as I started hitting the keg again, the colors of life seeped back in, gradually giving me a much happier and more positive mood. Even battles with the orcs and their henchmen now brought a grim satisfaction rather than pity over the too-quick deaths of the Horde members.
Composure, a thirst to create, to explore, and to look for adventure on my own backside. And I could afford all of it. Our raids became fewer, and the raids themselves became more productive, for now we didn't throw ourselves in blind rage at everything that had tusks of an abnormal size.
Studying the ruined lands of Stormwind, mutual aid and working with survivors, laying secret paths and organizing good hiding spots concealed in the hills, dense groves, or mountain caves.
Solid and active work that yielded results. Time and again, we returned from our sorties with victory, taking advantage of the fact that all of The Horde's attention was focused on the Systems Alliance and the bloody war in the north.
I could hardly imagine what could be happening there if even our most brazen actions didn't provoke any obvious reactions. Even the hunting parties that used to try to catch us and the remnants of the Stormwindians had now vanished into oblivion, heading north, eager to join the campaign as soon as possible.
And it would have been a sin not to take advantage of this. To do something incredible, amazing, to strike a crushing blow against The Horde in the region that could make a great contribution to the front.
At first, my thoughts revolved around the portal to another world, from where the creatures poured in a steady stream, consistently releasing another clan of bastards and killers into Azeroth every couple of weeks—those who had destroyed their own world and now hoped to conquer ours.
Having interrogated a couple of prisoners—whom we now questioned not only about current news but also about their culture, life, and world in general—I learned many unpleasant things that only intensified the entire squad's hatred for the orcish race.
They exterminated peoples, destroyed flora and fauna, worshipped some kind of beasts, having rejected the spirits of the elements... And much, much, much more that cannot be contained in a single thought. The list of the green-skins' sins stretched in a bloody trail, following them at their heels, and wherever they appeared, only death and destruction remained.
"Pah, spawn. You couldn't live yourselves, and now you won't let us."
These thoughts were constantly in our heads, so the plan with the portal found more and more support. A daring raid that would allow us to destroy the transition arch, perhaps even at the cost of our own lives, but it would be worth it.
Only little Sara brought staggering news that turned the entire crew upside down.
"Repeat that!"
Frowning, I tried to steady my anticipatory tremor. My fingers flexed involuntarily, betraying my excitement, in which I was not alone.
The entire crew of the Beer Lord was now frozen with their mouths open, eyes bulging and brows arched to their foreheads. It seemed that our hearts began to beat faster in unison, so united were we in our surge of surprise.
"We deviated from the route and decided to check the suspicious activity of the dragon riders, who are far more numerous in this region than in all the others," squinting like a satisfied cat, the elf savored my state, almost licking her lips and enjoying the attention to her person and the discovery she had made. "Following the trail, constantly hiding in the shadows, we reached a cinder wasteland spread around a solitary mountain..."
"Blackrock Mountain," without thinking, I corrected my chief scout, dropping to a whisper. "A massive peak of an extinct volcano. There, black smoke always stretches across the sky, and the land around is dead and covered in ash. And only bare bones and the remains of weapons from bygone eras tell that there was once life here."
"You described that place quite accurately, Shorty," Sara frowned displeasedly, folding her arms across her chest, snorting and turning her upturned nose away. "If you knew, you could have skipped the suspense and told us right away."
"I have had occasion to be there, and I swear by my mother's milk, I hoped that henceforth I would never be there again..."
"What is there?"
"The shame and the curse of our house," I practically spat the words, feeling the agreeing nods of the other Avengers behind my back. "Traitors from the Blackrock Clan. Menu shirumund, Khagam menu reliku pembu rukhas! (Beardless scum, born in an orc hole!)."
"I didn't understand a word of that, but apparently, you don't harbor warm feelings for them?"
"Warm feelings?" Had she said that to me a couple of weeks ago, even Sarochka's juicy backside wouldn't have escaped a strong curse word, but now I managed to keep myself in check... more or less. "Have all your brains gone into your ears, woman? Think at least occasionally about what you're saying!"
"Easy on the turns, or you'll rub your bald spot raw."
"This is a ritual hairstyle!" I said, unconsciously running my hand over my bald head, touching the scars remaining there. "A sign of our oath and honor..."
"Yeah, I'm really feeling that honor," Sara rolled her eyes and placed her index finger to her lips. "I feel like I'm living in a basket of eggs all the time, that's how much your skulls shine... And those scars too."
Turning red, I barely contained my anger, looking for a worse insult that wouldn't offend my comrade-in-arms.
"What do you know of honor? You couldn't even sell a broken hammer to another elf!"
"There you go again with your old-man sayings," the elf said, arching a brow and leaning in closer, about to pat me on the head, but I caught her hand in time. "You already look like a moss-grown stump on the outside, and with those words, everything gets even worse. What does your..."
"Other mushrooms even goats won't eat, and you're worse than them when it comes to choosing food," I said, openly mocking her as I burst into laughter, feeling the support of my kin and the quiet chuckles of the humans. This round was definitely mine. "Alright, don't boil over, or you'll shrink away entirely, you're skinny enough as it is..."
"Master Rodgirn, perhaps we can get down to business."
As usual, our bickering was cut short by the elder of the sisters, who, after my reverse transformation, began to act even more actively and boldly, constantly interfering in affairs or my arguments with Sara.
In general, she behaved very strangely and, like a mother, watched my every step, often following at my heels and pestering me with questions, to which the younger of the elves would then react... and it would all start all over again.
"Stupid women, as if there weren't enough problems without them, and they've got an itch too."
Suppressing another urge to spit—I really didn't want to mess up the deck of the Beer Lord, where we were currently gathered—I sat down on a nearby crate, gathering the others around me.
"We've had our laugh, and that's enough," I said, trying to ignore the ominous glare from Narandiel, who had clearly sensed my ill-intentioned thoughts. I attempted to bring the amused crowd back to a businesslike mood. "The news brought by the Farstriders is bad, but it allows us to answer many questions. The main one being how The Horde secured the support of the flying lizards that are preventing the entire Systems Alliance from tearing their green-skinned asses to pieces."
Dry chuckles from seasoned soldiers were my answer. Standing in the semi-darkness, hidden by shadows, they smirked sardonically, understanding that the war was progressing with difficulty not only because of the dragons, but for many other reasons as well.
"If our fallen brothers decided to side with The Horde, then Blackrock Mountain is an excellent choice for a main fortress and forge to supply the freaks with Arms and other equipment." Waiting for a lamp and a map to be brought, I began tracing my finger over it, pointing to a schematic representation of the mountain. "It's tall enough. The slopes are steep, but at the top, they can surely make burrows and platforms for the red beasts. The forges could pierce the mountain through, going all the way to the base, where they will forge Arms on a massive scale using the Earth's heat. Thousands of blades in a matter of days, Armor for themselves and for their lizards. All of this could become a truly horrific threat, and since we haven't seen lizards flying into battle wearing helmets yet, they are still in the deployment and fortification stage... Though now they have no particular reason to rush."
Bitterness swept through my heart like a bright flame. Memories of Ironforge still sparked heat and fury, urging me to rush into one last, hopeless battle. To hack and crush Orc skulls, ending my life atop a pile of bastards after ripping out their vile tusks.
I was not alone in my grief, and we all coped with it in our own way. Some took to the bottle, others began smoking hurriedly, hiding their fears and hatred behind blue-gray smoke. For me, a fragile female hand on my shoulder and Sarandiel's supporting smile helped. Without mockery or jokes, she simply stood nearby, gripping my shoulder with a strong hold one wouldn't expect from her slender figure.
A grateful nod escaped me without a second thought. For a second, I even wanted to say something, but I decided not to break this pleasant moment of silence with empty words, for everything was already understood.
"We need to find out what is happening in Blackrock Mountain." My index finger pressed into the colorful illustration in the middle of the map. "Are there simple barracks there, forges, or perhaps the dragon kin themselves have built their nest there! We will find out what is happening inside the mountain and put an end to it."
My raspy voice added atmosphere to the mood descending upon the ship's deck. Thick clouds of smoke with glowing embers from pipes and hand-rolled cigarettes drifted about. The tart smell of alcohol mingled with the floral scents that clung to Sarandiel.
The dry, tired faces of Dwarves, humans, and elves understood the danger of this venture, which in its madness was no less than a direct assault on the Dark Portal. Only here, we had a real chance to do something rather than perish ignobly on the approaches to The Horde's most guarded objective.
Dozens of attentive gazes, tightly clenched fists. Stern eyes tracking my every movement and heeding the words that could decide our fate and our lives.
The Avenger's oath burned at my temple, demanding I set out immediately, break into the mountain, and kill everyone in my path. But I held back. I held back, like the others, suppressing my feelings.
Rising from a crate, I raised my fist to face level, a wicked smirk gracing my lips.
"Brave Dwarves, our dear friends," scanning the deck, I walked in a circle, meeting the eyes of everyone who answered my challenge, "a great calamity has befallen our home... because of the Orcs. The grievances are carved into our heads and will remain with us forever. As a reminder and a grief."
Standing in the center of the gathering, I placed one hand on the haft of my axe while the other affectionately stroked a modified pistol that could now fire up to eight bullets in a row.
"They came from another world and act as if they own the place. And what, my glorious brothers, shall we just leave it as it is? Allow them to go wherever they want and take whatever they please?"
"NO! No! Never!"
"That's what I think too," a bloodthirsty smile finally peeked through the mask, showing my true anticipation for the task ahead, "when they come, we shall give them only one thing. Let them come."
Pulling the axe from my belt, I thrust it above my head, letting the bright glints from the blade dance across the crowd.
"Kazukan! Kazukit-ha!"
"Kazuk! Kazuk! Kazuk!"
In rhythm with my words, ignoring secrecy for a moment, the Avengers answered me, and the humans shouted along with them, while the proud elves nodded their heads with satisfaction, catching our enthusiasm.
"Captain Gorbin, we are heading to Blackrock Mountain."
"Aye," striking his fist against his chest, the old rogue broke into a shout, sending the crew to their stations. His booming voice rolled across the deck like claps of thunder, dispelling the silence and bringing life to the restless, departing ship. "All hands to stations, you dogs! We're flying into the very ass of the world! Let's see how dark it is in there!"
Snorting at his final words, I promised myself that I would personally ignite the light in that entire mountain. I'd blow it to its foundations if even a fraction of my assumptions proved true.
Yes, a lot of time would pass; we weren't an army and we had little gunpowder, but once inside, having studied everything thoroughly, I would make a decision, and it certainly wouldn't please the Dark Iron Dwarves and their new friends.
Grabbing a nearby rope, I deftly looped it around my wrist, giving my body stability. Gaining speed, the Adjudicator sought to reach the clouds to quickly hide from the clear part of the sky, where the wizards led by Narandiel would already be covering us.
"Are you sure?"
"Definitely," already knowing who stood behind me, I gave the answer without hesitation, trying to inject calm notes into my voice to fully convince my companions. "I feel that we are on the right path..."
"And what if there really is a dragon clutch there?" The Pointy-Eared wizard wasn't going to give up, though it seemed to me it was more important for her to know whether I was doing this in a fit of vengeance or for strategic reasons. "Our forces won't be enough to destroy it. Even getting out of there would be an incredible task, let alone a stealthy infiltration into the mountain."
"We will succeed."
"You are rushing too much; do I really need to move you to pity once more to bring you back to clear thoughts?"
"You're not even hiding it now?" Ignoring my words, Nara stood silently behind me, waiting for answers to her questions. "Fine, fine, no need to get worked up over nothing. Better ask your sister why I'm in a hurry."
"Thunderclouds, they will cover us while we fly to the wasteland, and there we can hide in the ashen exhaust."
I was certain that both sisters were now glaring militantly at each other. The oppressive silence caused a shiver down my spine, so I had to steer the situation away from conflict immediately.
"Something is bothering me, as if whispering at the edge of my consciousness, giving hints. Whether it's intuition, evil machinations, or if I'm just engaging in wishful thinking..." Chewing my dry lips, I stared into the distance, watching the land disappear behind the clouds. "I don't know, but I will trust this feeling. We will break into Blackrock Mountain. At night, in darkness and silence. We'll go at low speed, using only the gas cylinders, so as not to attract attention with the noise of the blades."
"We'll be crawling for an eternity..."
"But certainly in silence," I hinted with my intonation at her excessive talkativeness and constant interruptions, receiving a purely feminine huff in response, promising me "terrible" vengeance. "We won't take risks and will go slowly. Tomorrow night we'll drop off the Rangers. Lightly equipped, they'll outrun us and scout the situation on the approaches to the mountain and the surrounding area, then we'll pick them up and land on the mountain together."
"Almost three days in flight... We have enough supplies and gas, but I fear the soldiers will start acting up out of boredom. We've led too active a life these past months, so three days of idleness won't end well."
"We'll put up extra railings on the sides and hang a net so no one falls off."
"You don't mean...?"
"Yes, exactly," turning to the elven women, I saw understanding and skeptical grimaces on their faces, "you can't breathe enough before you die, so we'll have a good revel before the landing."
"We'll definitely be heard."
"You'll create some kind of barrier."
Brushing off Narandiel's dissatisfaction, I was already anticipating how I'd collapse into a drunken sleep or peek at the girls changing in their cabins, flirt with other beauties, and maybe even get into a fight with some other Avenger.
Amusedly rubbing my hands together, I retreated to my cabin under the collective sigh of the sisters, where I had much work to finish before the start of the final feast. Explosives, Arms, bullets, and many other things that would surely help us in the foray—all of this rested on my shoulders and those of a couple of other engineer-armorers, forcing three pairs of hands to supply an entire hundred Outlaws.
"Good thing the elves fletch their own arrows at least, some small joy."
"Magic doesn't work like that, Rodgirn!"
"Magic-shmagic," mimicking the elven woman's voice, I felt danger behind my back and ducked just in time to avoid a jet of water. "See! You create water out of nowhere, so you can handle a barrier, what's so hard about it?"
"I can't just create a barrier out of nothing."
"Oh, for heaven's sake," rubbing the bridge of my nose, I realized the elven woman wouldn't leave me alone just like that. "Well, create a vacuum or something like that, it doesn't let sound through, does it? Or a layer of two simple water barriers and carefully burn out the air inside if a vacuum one is unavailable to you. Just don't blow anything up!"
Wagging a finger, I left Nara on the deck with her mouth wide open, which immediately brought dirty thoughts to my mind.
"Oh, I hope I finish everything soon and latch onto a keg; maybe I'll pass out before my loins act up again."
***
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