Orc Quest; or, A Critical Examination of Agency Through in Interactive Fiction (Warcraft)

Alterac 11
[X] The remains of the clan will be banished, commanded to leave Alterac and likely travel to Hammerfall instead.

After making arrangements with the Stormpikes you made your way back down the mountain.

It was quick, the snow was already melting and again you darted from the sureties of rock to finally reach the main street of the village. There were scattered bands of orcs making their way back, and you saw Scorn waiting for you with an honourguard at the head of the village.

"Chief! Glad we are to see you safe, what of the Dwarves?" the Captain asked, slightly louder than was necessary.

You approached and he drew close, "Slowly, let them see you proud."

"The Stormpike will wait for the moment, they mean no ill-will toward us, only the Frostwolves." you said, and then dropped your voice. "Stop calling me 'chief'" you growled as you walked, giving greetings to warriors you passed as you accumulated a train of followers.

"No." Scorn replied, "If you are an exile, then the Frostwolves attacked the Burning Blade, and it's war. If you're an independent chief of your own clan then it's a private matter."

You couldn't deny that you felt an initial flash of anger at his disobedience, but it was immediately quashed by a mixture of feelings which you didn't want to acknowledge now.

"I do not accept this." you managed finally, quietly.

"You don't have to, you just have to crack the bones."

You looked at him, "I didn't know you were from the south?" you remarked. It was a very specific phrase, and an unusual one. Scorn didn't look like a Bonechewer.

The captain just grunted.

He was right though. To 'crack the bones' was to disturb the foresight of a shaman, or to make a situation unclear, and that was indeed what you needed to do. What had to be avoided was for the situation to get worse, but you were still dreading what your father might do.

"They need certainty, and thanks." Scorn said, "Make sure to give it to them. I'd say to give them blood too, but I know you've a soft heart."

The remark somewhat soured Scorn's previously helpful comments, but you ignored him. The captain's name was fitting after all.

You came to the village square. There were Frostwolves sitting in groups, guarded by your own warriors.

"Any trouble?" you asked Vark, tending his greatbow with a keen eye.

Your brother shook his head, "They saw you break the mountain, there's no fight left in them."

You moved on.

A few others fell in around you, Kartha was the first, "No one's found Drek'thar. I checked the Keep myself, and the surroundings, I took a few wolf riders but they couldn't find much."

"He is beloved of the land. If he lives, I think the Spirits will see him safe away." you replied. In truth you hadn't expected much. "Go back to the keep, make an accounting of supplies, seize any materials useful to us, pay attention to reagents, papers, suchlike."

Kartha saluted, heading off quickly with Vok'fon the Troll, calling up a few others as she walked.

Sorek was next, "Three hundred dead between us, I think maybe equal numbers on both sides, but the ogres are still pulling bodies out. The wolves fought in a fury though, most of them are dead."

There went your cavalry, limited as it had already been, but at least the main strength of your force had been preserved.

You came across a strange scene, the finery of the Frostwolves strewn about on the ground…

Tagorr the Dread had several Frostwolves kneeling in the ruins of a house, surrounded by his warriors. All of them former Blackrocks they had the sallow skin of their clan and some of the only examples of proper armour that wasn't Vark's attempts at cobbling things together.

You approached them, looking down at the captives. One you recognise, and though hurt you see Gol'dir, Thrall's agent, clearly. Another is a tauren shaman, and several others of that profession are also among them, along with others of higher rank.

"They weren't needed for the healing?" you asked Tagorr, who stepped away from conference with one warrior, saluting with a strike of his fist against breast.

"Chief!" exclaimed the orc and you stopped your lip from curling, "All who were wounded were either beyond saving, or were hurt only lightly, there were few in between, and broken bones can wait."

You nodded, "That they can, you've my thanks then for gathering them here." You looked down.

You had it in you to kill an orc, but not to make one kneel.

But that being said, for a clan which had stabbed yours in the back, you couldn't help but feel a savage glee in seeing them so reduced.

"Well." you said, "Speak then, traitors."

The Frostwolves bristled, or so they would have, had they not been held firm, for while some cried out, the Blackrocks behind them cuffed them roughly to quiet them.

You're looking at Gol'dir and he squirms uncomfortably. He knows you have the right to simply kill him, none would question it, or call it wrong.

Thrall's agent licks his lips uncomfortably, pupils wide, eyes flitting between you and your captains.

"So said Drek'thar, that it was you who was the traitor…" Gol'dir manages.

It provokes uproar from your own warriors. They growl and shout refusal, gesticulating with outrage and brandishing weapons.

"So says one who still lives when his chief does not." you replied.

It was a gloat, but you couldn't help it…

Gol'dir had been chosen for more than his skill with an axe, and his shrewdness took precedent now, for he restrained himself and made no reply till you gave him leave with a gesture.

"Drek'thar spoke of demons who would attack us, of visions. Few truly believed him, but we could not disobey. For that obedience, we ask no forgiveness."

Nor would you ask it, for you realise Gol'dir has trapped you. After all, your own honour required you to obey your father, as it would any clan member before a chief.

"Do you mistake me for a demon?" you ask, and a dark laugh echoes through your warriors. You looked about yourself, "Has anyone seen Sesk?"

The Blademaster materialised from thin air, perched on top of a bare beam, grin on his face and fel-fire burning in his eyes.

Trust him to make a show of it.

In truth you hadn't expected the Blademaster to help you in the battle. His task was to keep you safe, but since you'd become a Blademaster yourself he'd taken a much more relaxed approach to it. Partly it was because you were expected to fight your own battles, partly you supposed he knew the value of not being too close to you and the danger of coddling you in the eyes of others. You'd gotten over the initial annoyance of it.

"Do you mistake us?" you asked Gol'dir directly, pointing as you speak at Sesk, then turned to the kneeling Tauren next to him, "And you?"

"Thurloga, sent by Cairne Bloodhoof." the primalist (if you correctly judged her profession) replied tiredly, her horned head hanging low.

"Though a great warrior and battle-leader, I have never heard that the Chief of the Tauren delighted in slaughter, or are things much changed among your people?"

There was silence. It niggled at you, the tensions of the day wearing your patience to breaking point.

"Speak!" you bellowed, and the rocks trembled around you. "Speak! Or are you stones yourselves?! You must know what this means, shall it be civil war among the Horde? Blood on the streets of Orgrimmar? Clan against Clan? Give me answer for this treachery, or are you all as addled and senile as Drek'thar?"

They know they have misstepped. Massively so. Silence seems better to them than speech it seems.

"We came to you in peace, for though I maintain disagreements of strategy and doctrine, I respected Drek'thar and the Frostwolves." You began slowly, "You betrayed that respect. You all, for if your chief was maddened you have a duty to stop him. You have betrayed every code and practice of our people, and I am ashamed to call you orcs."

You had to restrain yourself. Your blood was up, your bones ached.

"I came here to make war. To discover our people's fortresses and seek the history of my clan. I did not come here for you. You could have aided us, even just turned us away, but no. You invited us in, then stabbed us in the back. You are as bad as Gul'dan…"

Cries of outrage are silenced again by Blackrock fists, "We helped you! We aided you against Lokholar!" shouted one of the Frostwolf shaman.

Your lip curled at the hypocrisy. You'd felt other shaman in the battlestorm, true enough, "But are Thrall's ways forgotten so easily, even among his own clan? Blood sacrifice, that is what I saw, or did my eyes deceive me?"

In truth, such practices were not so forgotten as the Frostwolves liked to think. In Sen'jin, you yourself had seen the Darkspear take trolls into their huts which never came out alive, and of course you knew your clan were perfectly content with such things.

"What is the difference between Drek'thar and I then?" you continued, "I gave the Kolkar prisoners to the elders of my clan as sacrifices against the centaur, how is this any different?"

The tauren, Thurloga, speaks now, "Lokholar was a last resort. Many years ago, when the conflict with the Dwarves first began." she said, voice deep and sonorous, "Drek'thar made pacts with the Ice Lord, to safeguard the Frostwolves if they gave due sacrifice. But never to be called on, save in direst need, and at great price."

You look around you at the devastation of the village. "Price indeed."

You let the earth speak then. You felt it through the rock, through the stone. The tremors grounded you, even calmed you.

"What is to be done with us?" Gol'dir asked.

"I go to fight the Syndicate." you replied, "You, coward, go to Hammerfall with the rest of your clan. You have safe passage from the Alliance, as long as you go quickly and tarry not. The Alliance won't let you return, and I will be taking most of your supplies. I go to make war, not banditry after all."

There's not even grumbles at that, not even at the insults. They know well it's the best deal they can get.

Gol'dir though is looking up at you. He makes to stand, but two Blackrocks push him back down, "Away Coal-eaters!" he cries, "I am a warrior, and would stand."

You wave a hand.

Gol'dir winces as he gets up, revealing a bloody side which he clutches. "I was sent here partly to oppose the Syndicate. They keep orc slaves, and the Warchief has no tolerance for-"

"Speak to me not of the Warchief's tolerance, Gol'dir." you cut in sharply.

The Frostwolf winces, as if stung, "I would join you, myself and a few others sent with me. We know the land, the foes, and can be of use to you. If we regain our honour, very well, if we fall and go to our Ancestors…"

"I will think on it." you said. You had stood where he was, though in your place had been the Warchief. He sought to preserve his clan somewhat in your estimation, and you privately acknowledged his commitment to duty.

You would decide later, even if you were minded to accept. Instead you called your commanders.

"We have the aid and forbearance of the Stormpike. They intend to provide us with reinforcements, I've asked for engineers, riflemen, some of their riders." you told them.

"Well it's not as if they'll be using them now is it?" Vark grunted, gesturing to the destroyed village, "Cannons?"

You shook your head, "I doubt it, but we'll see. I mean to move quickly though, before the Syndicate hears of this. We can be in Strahnbrad in three days, before they have time to prepare. What say you all?"

You're squatting in the packed snow, the others around you, drawing out a map of the area, when Vok'fon draws your attention, "If ye'h mek for da city de'll oppose you dere." he explains, "But if we cross the mountains at the end of the pass we can take them from behind. The Dwarves must know ways through..."

"We'll lose time." Kartha says, "But he has a point. The Syndicate must have scouts out watching the pass, if they've heard the cannons, they know something's happened. They may already be drawing their forces to meet us at Strahnbrad. We could easily take each of their groups at a time, but all together would be more difficult, even with the Dwarves."

"Thousands." Vark remarked, stroking his beard.

"We have a good history of such battles." Scorn replied.

Kartha sneered, "Speak for yourself, these aren't the Kolkar or the Scourge, this would be an assault against a prepared enemy. It would be bloody… Comparably, if we make over the mountains as Vok'fon suggests, we can pillage across the Uplands and the Syndicate towns. They'll be forced to reform, and we'll travel a lot lighter than any human army can. Maybe that'll even turn the humans against the Syndicate, if we kill their leaders the people might stop following them, and we'd have a much easier time of it. We'd cut their kingdom in half."

"But also find ourselves between two forces." you replied, "We didn't come here to burn and kill, and we'll do no pillaging… But your plan has merit." you had to admit. While you might be inclined to meet them head on, it would be a violent, grinding battle at the walls of Strahnbrad.

After you made your decision you acted quickly. Kartha oversaw the distribution of the Frostwolves' supplies, and you were glad of them, for you'd avoid the need for forage for some time now. You let the Frostwolf shaman free to conduct their rites, and chastised Warsong warriors for wanting to take the skins of the Frostwolf beasts themselves as trophies.

You stood with raised arms, beckoning the flames over a great pyre. Within it you spoke to your father through the flames, fel green eyes for all to see. You felt impressions, rather than clear words, but perhaps he wasn't near a scrying crystal. No matter, Neeru Fireblade knew of the Frostwolves' treachery now, and you thought he would choose retreat rather than confrontation with Thrall. It seemed that Drek'thar had acted alone, but while you had to report it, you couldn't control what your father might do.

In the end the sun was falling beneath the peaks as you pushed out of the ruins, the Frostwolves going into the mountains in the east, you leading your own folk west.

Choose 1:
[ ] On swiftly to Strahnbrad
[ ] Over the mountains, into the Uplands

Comments/questions welcome.


-150 warriors
+Gol'dir and several capable Frostwolf spies from Thrall
+200 Stormpike Dwarves

As a note, warband strength largely static, though slightly more flexibility now.