DUROTAR

With some relief, Vol'jin rode steadily towards the gates of Orgrimmar, atop his faithful raptor. The Barrens had been a harsh and unforgiving place, too dry and hot for the jungle troll, but he had at long last managed to find a potential ally for the Horde. It had been a lengthy and difficult task, and he couldn't deny that it felt good to finally to be the bearer of good news.

ORGRIMMAR

The guards alertly ushered Vol'jin and his escorting squad through the gates. With the recent Scourge attack, it was only to be expected for the guards to be especially on guard. He briefly exchanged greetings with Saurfang before heading into the city.

As he made his way through the bustling streets, he couldn't help but feel a sense of pride. Orgrimmar was a testament to the strength and resilience of the Horde.

GROMMASH HOLD

Eventually, Vol'jin reached the gates of Grommash Hold and dismounted from his raptor, where he was met by a familiar face. "Vol'jin, it is good to see you return," greeted Eitrigg, one of Thrall's closest advisors.

Vol'jin nodded in acknowledgement, "Aye, I bring good news."

Eitrigg quickly led him into the chambers of Thrall, where the orc Warchief was poring over reports and maps. He looked up at the purposeful pair before zeroing in on the lanky troll with some expectation, "Vol'jin, I take it you have news?" asked Thrall.

"Good news for the Horde! I have succeeded in finding a number of quilboar tribes willing to talk peacefully," Vol'jin replied with a grin. He handed over a scroll with the tribes listed to Thrall.

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Thrall smiled broadly, "That is good news! I never doubted you friend." He briefly perused the list before handing it off to Eitrigg.

"Yes, and it was not an easy task," Vol'jin replied, his face serious once more. "These quilboar are quite territorial. But many of them have issues seeing the undeath offered by the Scourge as their best option. They are the ones who have agreed to talk with us."

Eitrigg had excitement on his face and he read the tribes listed on the scroll. "This is wonderful news, Vol'jin. I will take charge of that task. My ambassadors are honorable and true. We need to show the quilboar that the Horde is willing to be a eager ally and friend to those who are willing to fight with us."

"I agree," Thrall nodded. "I'm sure Eitrigg will make sure that everything is in order and that the Horde presents itself in the best possible light." He then clapped a hand on

Vol'jin's shoulder, "I'm sure you're ready to take a rest after those months out in the field. Go take that rest and come back tomorrow. I got some plans that could use your input."

Vol'jin bowed respectfully. "Thank you, Warchief."

With that, Vol'jin turned and left the chambers. Thrall smiled to himself as he watched the dependable troll go. He knew that he could always count on the Darkspear chieftain to get the job done, no matter how difficult the task.

Eitrigg bowed right after, "I'll take my leave as well Warchief. I'll see to it that our ambassadors are on their way before night falls."

Thrall adopted a stern air, "Triple the number of escorts, Eitrigg. We don't want any surprises on this matter."

"As you command, Warchief."

Left alone in his chambers, Thrall got to work writing a letter to Cairne. The wise Tauren had wanted to be kept informed whenever there was an update with the quilboar negotiations and the Warchief saw no reasons to deny his friend's request.

As the sun set over Orgrimmar, a Horde convoy of hundreds assembled under Saurfang's watchful eye, just within the city gates, preparing for an crucial mission to the Barrens.

Eitrigg's ambassadors and their armed escorts, their expressions a mix of excitement and apprehension. They knew the dangers that lay ahead, but they were willing to risk everything for the sake of the Horde.

Leading the convoy was Gar'uk, a fierce-looking orc, his face painted with tribal markings and pierced with bone. Barking orders, he got the members organized in short order.

When everyone finally was ready and patiently waiting, Gar'uk raised his hand, signaling for the group to move out. The ambassadors staunchly rode out the gates of Orgrimmar, their heads held high and their weapons at hand, prepared for the worst, but hoping for the best.