Orgrim Doomhammer firmly believes in one thing: Orcs cannot be strong forever. When your opponent is stronger than you, you must surrender.
When he came to the battlefield holding the Doomhammer, he saw thousands of powerful orcs.
The orcs transformed by the secret medicine of the undead have blood-red eyes, a more ferocious face, and fangs as sharp as daggers, and are a whole head taller than Orgrim.
But their expressions were calm, like cold-blooded killers, as if killing was just a common thing.
Orgrim took a breath of cold air, and the hand holding the Doomhammer trembled slightly. How could there be such a powerful orc team in Lordaeron.
A human walked out among the orcs, and Blackmoore glanced casually:
"Are you the chieftain of the orcs, Orgrim Doomhammer?"
Orgrim Doomhammer is thinking about how to surrender gracefully, so as to save his life and retain as much dignity as possible.
Blackmore took action.
The call of all spirits.
Flames, lightning, strong winds, lava, and terrible elemental magic spurted out, and smoke covered the sky.
In just two seconds, Orgrim felt countless magic fall into his camp, destroying everything.
Five hundred carefully selected orcs turned into ashes before they even had time to cry out.
Around Orgrim, the scorched land radiates scalding heat.
It's so scary. What kind of magic is this? It's like the devil destroying the world.
Orgrim was frightened, his legs were weak, and he wanted to kneel down and surrender, but the opponent did not give him this chance.
Two strong orcs rushed over and held Orgrim's trembling body, while a man in black robes forced him to drink the potion.
A wave of power poured into his mind, and Orgrim felt that his consciousness was torn into pieces, most of them scattered with the wind, leaving only loyalty and obedience.
Blackmoore said loudly: "From today on, I, Edras Blackmoore, am your master, and you, Orgrim Doomhammer, are my slave and loyal dog."
"Yes, Master." Orgrim said dryly, his eyes gradually losing their luster.
Eight years after the Dark Portal, the world of Draenor fell apart due to Ner'zhul's spellcasting, and Grom Hellscream led the Warsong clan in the wilderness of Lordaeron.
Faced with the pursuit of the Alliance and the harsh environment in the wilderness, this remnant of two thousand orcs actually persisted.
Scattered raindrops slapped the ground, and a few flashes of lightning flashed across the sky.
Baron Rivendell looked at the defeated Warsong clan and calmly ordered the withdrawal.
At the front of the collapsing orcs, a strong figure with disheveled hair ran the fastest, and his steps could be described as vigorous.
Grom Hellscream, the famous legendary chief, is not as brave as the legend says.
Every time he charged, he was behind to supervise the battle, and he could escape faster than anyone else.
The direction in which the orcs fled was to the deepest part of the wilderness, where the land was barren and desolate, filled with light green soil where vegetation could not grow.
Legend has it that thousands of years ago, this was a lush forest. An abyss lord was killed by the guardian Aegwynn, and his blood contaminated the earth.
The forest has been destroyed and not a single blade of grass can grow.
Baron Rivendell could not catch up.
Stretching the supply line will put the entire team in crisis and risk annihilation.
"The Warsong clan, what do they eat in the wilderness?" The baron rubbed his temples in confusion.
Having been at war with the Warsong clan for many years, the Baron restricted the Warsong clan to the depths of the wilderness and did not allow them to step out of the wilderness, leaving them to fend for themselves.
However, everything backfired, as Grom Hellscream came back again and again, proving that the orcs had continuous supplies.
No one knows how the Warsong Clan led by Grom Hellscream survives in the wilderness.
A roar that was more terrifying than thunder came. The human soldiers were no longer surprised and began to clean the battlefield.
This was Grom Hellscream's roar, which was regarded as a provocation and taunt to the pursuers.
Baron Rivendell calls it a coward's rage.
The Warsong Clan failed to break through again. Grom Hellscream unleashed his anger as usual and casually chopped down a few orcs who were not brave enough to fight.
Venting his anger, Hellscream won the respect of his tribe with his roar.
The Warsong clan began to migrate deep into the wilderness, dangerous areas where humans dare not set foot.
The bare valley is covered with gray mist, like the giant mouth of the devil, and the Warsong clan guards the exit of the valley.
Grom Hellscream led a dozen of his followers into the mist-covered valley.
The tribesmen looked eagerly at the chief, Grom. Hellscream could always bring back food, sometimes clothes, weapons, etc. from the valley.
Deep in the mist, fifty orcs gathered around a large pit. When they saw the chief arriving, they all knelt down and saluted.
Hellscream asked in a low voice: "How was the harvest today?"
A shaman replied: "A total of three waves of people came today. Hey, there are some delicious chicks, ready for the chief."
Hellscream nodded: "Leave them all to me. Damn Baron Rivendell, he blocked us and wouldn't let us out, but I didn't suffer any loss. I killed a hundred thousand humans today."
The orcs all know that Hellscream likes to falsely report his military exploits.
If what he said were true, he would have killed all the people in Lordaeron long ago.
The shaman's ears twitched and he hissed: "Someone is coming, guys, get ready to start work."
There is a huge white stone in the center of the pit, the size of a house, crystal clear as jade, and emitting a strange light.
Golden light flashed, and a group of people appeared out of thin air.
The leader was holding a small flag, followed by a group of richly dressed nobles and a dozen adventurers looking around vigilantly.
The person holding the small flag was a dwarf, and he said loudly:
"Everyone, this is the road of time and space, the era when the great Grom Hellscream fought and lived. You are the recruits of the Dove of Peace. After layers of selection, you are qualified to visit this period of history, in this wilderness.
Among them, Grom. Territory Roar led the way, killing millions of Lordaeron soldiers in every battle, and killing 50 billion humans in his lifetime. He is worthy of being the greatest legendary orc chieftain."
The noble children exclaimed, and one of the sweet-looking girls said:
"Wow, this is where my idol fights. It's so touching."
A young man asked: "Is there any chance to meet the great Hellraiser? Can I get an autograph?"
Another girl said: "If I could see my idol, I would die."
"Orcs, aren't they in danger?" A young man asked in horror.
The leading dwarf smiled faintly:
"Don't worry, the orcs are kind and kind...Ahem, what is this?"
A cloud of smoke appeared in the pit, and everyone felt weak and fell to the ground, but their consciousness was still awake.
A group of ferocious-looking orcs appeared, and Grom Hellscream laughed:
"The dove of peace is really friendly and has brought us food again."
The orcs dragged the new recruits of Dove of Peace to the edge of the pit, where slaughtering tools had been prepared, and the ground was covered with a thick layer of bones.
"Foods, do you have any last words?" Hellscream asked.
The sweet-looking girl burst into tears and yelled stubbornly:
"The villains should not be rampant, the great Grom. Hellscream will come to save us."
Hellscream laughed: "Idiot, I am Grom Hellscream."