Potato Gathering

Vaelarian Ashclaw heard it before he saw it.  He had been walking just a short distance south of his camp situated next to a lake in the hills along the border of Ashenvale and the Barrens.  Wild potatoes grew plentiful in the area, and he often went to gather them for his stews.  He was following the path he usually took when the noise started.  It was a loud grinding sound.  Machines.  Here.  Hadn’t the orcs’ pet goblins caused enough trouble already?  He dropped his bag of potatoes, and drew his dagger, wandering from his regular path towards the source of the noise.

He moved quickly, but made sure he was hidden from sight as he rounded around one of the hills.  There, in the distance, he could see the source of the noise.  Saws.  They were cutting the trees on the ridge along the border.  Further in the distance, they were building some structures.

“Great.  New neighbors.” he muttered to himself with a sneer.  “I guess I have to go welcome them.”  He continued moving along the side of the hill, closer to the machinery and the workers.  He stopped at one spot with a decent view of the area.  He stayed back in the tall grass, and watched.  Most of the workers were orcs, but he did see a goblin or two scamper into one of the machines.  There were wagons full of fresh lumber, and a pathway had been carved down the hillside for the wagons to haul their load away, towards Orgrimmar.

He crept closer still, singling out one orc who had stood on the far side of a pile of freshly cut trees.  He’d make a fine example.  Vaelarian stayed low in the grass as he readied both daggers.  The orc remained oblivious to his presence.  Just as Vaelarian was about to make his move, a troll dashed from the other side of the small clearing, burying it’s dagger in the orc’s back.  Vaelarian inched back as he watched the troll, with the help of another troll, load some of the smaller trees onto a small wagon with a kodo pulling it.  What was going on?

He waited until the trolls left before stepping out of his hiding spot.  He kneeled at the orc, checking for signs of life.  There were none.  Using the cut trees as cover, he moved closer to the edge of the ledge.  Looking over, he saw more trolls, fighting with more orcs.  He moved back quickly, tracing his path back to the tall grass along the hill.

Astranaar needed to hear about this.

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