Breathing the free air, Vol'jin looked around carefully. He was familiar with every street in Orgrimmar.
The prison of Orgrimmar is built near the slums. You only need to get into the dirty and messy slums, just like a mouse entering the garbage dump, and you can never find it again.
But the slums are not safe, and Garrosh will definitely use the most terrifying means to find Vol'jin.
Vol'jin found a set of clothes in the slums, put them on, slaughtered another poor family, ate a delicious meal of meat, regained his strength and hurriedly set off on the road, his destination being Theramore.
Early the next morning, Jaina got up early and entered the Archmage Tower to prepare for business.
On the ship heading to Pandaria, she was unexpectedly attacked by a demon. Jaina realized that Wrathion was unreliable and was completely disappointed with him, so she teleported directly back to Theramore.
Disciple Jindi reported to Jaina that there was a fire in the slums of Orgrimmar last night. Thousands of houses were burned down, and many poor people were burned to charcoal in their sleep.
Jaina was not surprised by this. Whenever a prisoner escaped from Orgrimmar's prison, a similar disaster would definitely happen in the slums. What Jaina was curious about was who escaped this time.
Jindi reported again, this time it was a small matter, saying that a troll broke into Theramore last night, accidentally encountered a group of drunkards, and was beaten half to death. The troll claimed to be Vol'jin.
"Wo'jin?"
If it hadn't been for last night's slum fire, Jaina would never have believed that Vol'jin was real.
In the eyes of humans, trolls all look similar, and trolls pretend to be Wo'jin almost every day.
"Let him come to see me." Jaina ordered.
The soldiers carried a bloody bag. Poor Vol'jin was beaten to death. When he saw Jaina, he protested loudly:
"Jaina, your soldiers dare to attack me. You must punish them by throwing them into the sea to feed the sharks."
Regarding Theramore's assassination, Jaina had no restraint and could only say tactfully: "Don't worry, I will punish them. Congratulations, Vol'jin, for escaping from Garrosh's clutches."
Wo'jin sat on the ground, stroking a pair of badly worn fangs, with a look of pride and pride on his face:
"Garrosh has forgotten that I presided over the construction of the prison in Orgrimmar. Don't try to trap me. Jaina, I want to know where the savior Thrall is now?"
"Thall is in Pandaria." Jaina picked up the newspaper delivered the day before: "Thall and Prince Anduin have established their own power in Pandaria, but now they are short of manpower."
Vol'jin read the contents of the newspaper and had worked beside Thrall for many years. He knew this trick very well, and God knows how much water was in it.
But at this moment Vol'jin has no choice. Considering the situation in Theramore, Jaina will never leave Vol'jin in Theramore. This is equivalent to giving Garrosh a reason to start a war.
"Jaina, I will be leaving Theramore soon. I am just asking you to do me a favor. I need to perform a sacrifice. Can you help me prepare some sacrifices?"
"What sacrifice?" Jaina asked.
Wojin smiled cruelly: "The more souls, the better."
On a small island in the north of Theramore, Vol'jin built a simple altar, and Jaina prepared more than fifty prisoners for Vol'jin, all murlocs near Theramore.
Vol'jin killed all the murlocs in front of the altar, chanting obscure spells.
As streaks of black light swirled around Wo'jin, the weak Wo'jin gradually regained his strength after being tortured in prison. The muscles on his body bulged and his eyes became piercing.
"All spirits, give me strength, I need your help."
Wo'jin continued to recite obscure spells, and a black mist-like aura enveloped the altar, covering the bodies of Wo'jin and more than fifty murlocs.
When the black fog dissipated, Wo'jin stood next to the altar, his body wrapped in an unknown black aura, like a demon from the Burning Legion, his eyes full of confidence.
There was a rumble in the sky, and a tribal airship appeared overhead.
Vol'jin was obviously taken aback. Then, several large ships appeared on the sea and surrounded the island. A large group of heavily armed Kor'kron orcs came ashore, led by Garrosh's beloved general Nazgol.
General Lin.
Nazgrin smiled cruelly: "Wo'jin, guess who betrayed you?"
Vol'jin lowered his head and spit out a name: "Jaina!"
Nazgrin nodded and smiled slightly:
"Wo'jin, you betrayed the Darkspear tribe for the orcs. Considering your contribution to the orcs, before you die, I can grant you one request."
A sad look appeared on Wo'jin's face, and he smiled bitterly and said: "I want to die like a warrior, respecting the ancient traditions of the orcs, a one-on-one fair battle."
Nazgrin laughed heartily.
The elite Kor'kron soldiers also laughed.
Nazgrin almost laughed to tears: "Vol'jin, as smart as you are, how could you make such a stupid request? You should know that the glory of the orcs is just talk. In this case, do you think there will be a fight?"
Is it a fair duel?"
"I have dedicated everything to the orcs, but I never thought it would end like this." Vol'jin, who was bare-handed, clenched his fists and said calmly: "Come on, let's end this."
Nazgrin ordered loudly: "Chop this troll into meat paste and keep his head, and give it to the warchief as a chamber pot."
The Kor'kron soldiers rushed forward with their battle axes roaring, and Wo'jin knocked down three orcs with his fists. Unfortunately, the fourth orc slashed his back.
Finally, Wo'jin fell, and the battle axes fell down one after another.
Some soldiers cut off Vol'jin's head. Nazgrin grabbed Vol'jin's bun and laughed and said: "Vo'jin, chief of the Darkspear tribe, you will also have this day."
Orgrimmar.
Garrosh looked at Vol'jin's head, couldn't help but dance with joy, and ordered the painter to make it into a chamber pot and prepare to send it to Pandaria as a surprise for Thrall.
Early the next morning, Garrosh woke up from his sleep and felt something was wrong. He found Nazgrin and asked about the details of Vol'jin's murder.
Nazgrin's narration, full of admiration for Vol'jin's courage, made Garrosh take a slight breath:
"So, Vol'jin did not give in at the last moment and died heroically like a warrior."
Nazgrin said with admiration: "I used to look down on Vol'jin very much. I thought he was just a villain who wanted to please Thrall. I didn't expect that he was also a great hero."
Garrosh patted his bald head angrily and said:
"Idiot, Nazgrin, you have been fooled. If that is the real Vol'jin, he will kneel down and beg for mercy. The troll family has a lot of dark magic. I guess Vol'jin must use the flesh and blood of the fish-men to benefit himself.
Created a stand-in.”
Nazgrim was stunned and hurriedly knelt down to admit his mistake. Garrosh frowned and waved his hand:
"Nazgrin, forget it this time. After all, you don't know Vol'jin well enough. I'm afraid Vol'jin has already boarded the ship to Pandaria. Hum, Vol'jin, don't think you can deceive me like this, I will
I will end you with my own hands in Pandaria."
A large ship sails to Pandaria.
This is true freedom. Woking breathes the fresh air and enjoys the warm sea breeze.