"Elder Crone?" Rahauro's voice was tentative, cautious. Seldom had he seen his mistress so angry.
With an effort, Magatha composed herself. "It seems that Garrosh Hellscream refuses the Grimtotem any aid whatsoever." She would not shame her tribemates with the blistering insults with which Garrosh had freely peppered his missive.
"We are on our own, then?" Rahauro looked slightly worried.
"We are, as we always have been. And always we have endured. Do not worry, Rahauro. I planned for this eventuality as well."
In actuality, she had not. She had been convinced that the young Hellscream would continue to be easy to play. This stupid "honor" thing that the ores—and, truth be told, her own race—were so obsessed with had been a serpent lurking in the grass, ready to bite her when she least suspected it. It was unfortunate that the Kor'kron had been swift to recover Gorehowl before she had had a chance to clean the poison off herself.
Still, all that was needed was to destroy Baine Bloodhoof and reestablish order in Mulgore. The tauren would quiet down and accept her as their new leader. And then, from a place of strength, she would see if Garrosh Hellscream might be willing to change his mind.
In the meantime, she would need to prepare for the pretender's inevitable attack.
There was a cool marine breeze circulating through the room at the top of Jazzik's General Goods. The tauren who paced there nervously, his black coat and white markings clearly identifying him as a Grimtotem, was glad of it, although the openness bothered him. Still, this was where he had been told to come.
"Heya, you made it, good," came a voice behind him. The tauren turned and nodded as Gazlowe, the goblin leader of Ratchet, climbed the stairs and gave him a wave. "Don't worry. This is my town. Long as you're here, you're safe. I understand your boss has a proposition for me."
The Grimtotem nodded. "Indeed."
Gazlowe indicated a table and two chairs. The tauren sat down, carefully at first, then a little bit more confidently as he realized the chair would support his much greater weight.
"We need several items."
Gazlowe fished out a pipe from his jacket pocket and a small pouch of herbs. He filled it as they spoke. "I can get you most anything, but not for free. Nothing personal, just business, you know?"
The tauren nodded. "I am prepared to pay for your services. Here is our list." He shoved a small, rolled - up parchment across the table at the goblin. Gazlowe wasn't about to be rushed, though, and finished tamping down the herbs and lighting the pipe before he reached out a green hand and accepted the list. His eyes widened.
"How many bombs?"
"You can read, friend goblin."
"I thought there was an extra zero. Or maybe two." His mouth curled around the stem of the pipe. "My, my. Looks like I might be able to buy myself an additional vessel. Maybe an additional town." His eyes flitted to the Grimtotem's. 'You're sure you can pay?"
For answer, the tauren untied a sack from his belt. It was larger than his mammoth fist and made a pleasant clinking sound as it landed on the table. "Count it all, if you like. I was told you charged a fair rate."
"Even a fair rate would be a small fortune," Gazlowe said. He opened the pouch. The afternoon sunlight caught the glint of gold. "Holy smoke."
"Can you get me all the items on the list?"
Gazlowe scratched his head, clearly torn between an honest response and the one he wanted to give. "Maybe," he said after a moment. He took a pull on his pipe and let the smoke trickle out of his large, hooked nose.
"Maybe."
"Within a few days."
Gazlowe coughed, smoke coming from his mouth in short billows. "What?"
The Grimtotem pulled out a second pouch, not as large as the first, but still quite respectable. "My… boss understands that one needs to pay extra for rush jobs."
The goblin whistled softly. "Your boss is smart," he said. He eyed the list again and sighed. "It's going to be tough, but—yeah. Yeah, I can get all this for you." He hesitated. The Grimtotem sat patiently. A private war was clearly going on inside the goblin's head.
With a sigh that was low and pained, Gazlowe pulled out a fistful of coins from the second pouch, then shoved the rest back at the tauren. The Grimtotem looked up at him, confused. A goblin, not taking money freely "Listen," Gazlowe said. "Don't spread this around, but… I, uh… support what you are trying to do."
The tauren blinked. "I… am glad."
Gazlowe nodded, then rose. "I'll have them for you in four days. No sooner."
"That is acceptable." The tauren rose, too, and turned to leave.
"Hey, Grandpa?"
The Grimtotem turned.
"Tell Baine I always liked his dad."
Stormsong Grimtotem smiled softly. "I will."
The army was on the move.
Although Baine was secure in his decision to not seek revenge against Garrosh Hellscream, he was not about to ask that rash orc for aid. That meant that he was on his own. Fortunately, the story of Magatha's treachery was beginning to spread. Camp Mojache had not fallen to the Grimtotem yet, but everyone there was desperately fighting. They could spare no reinforcements. But Freewind Post had managed to rebuff an assault and stayed loyal to the Bloodhoof line. Everyone there who could fight had volunteered the first night that Baine had asked for sanctuary. He had two dozen healthy, fit warriors, and others who were desperately in need of training but whose enthusiasm and passion could not be denied. Cairne had been well loved and his son respected and honored. There was no question that any tauren who was not a Grimtotem—or living in fear of them—would rally to Baine's side.
He wore Fearbreaker proudly, although he did not explain who had given it to him. He had no wish to jeopardize Anduin in any way. The weapon had not seen the light of day for decades, perhaps centuries. It would not be noted as a distinctively dwarven weapon although it was small. Nearly every weapon was small to a tauren. When asked, he merely replied, "This was given to me by a friend, as a gesture of faith in me and my cause." That explanation seemed enough to satisfy most.
They were marching up the Gold Road toward Camp Taurajo. Word had come from Sun Rock Retreat. They had repulsed an attack and were sending troops to meet him there. Baine marched openly, sending a strong message to any Grimtotem spies that might be observing that he and his supporters were not afraid. Indeed, their numbers swelled as they left the stagnant marshes of Dustwallow behind and entered the dry lands of the
More than tauren had come to join their cause. There were several trolls among the ranks, a few orcs, and even one or two Forsaken or sin'dorei. The Forsaken who had come had expressed owing a debt to the tauren who were, after all, the ones who had pushed to allow them into the Horde at all. Most of the rest were mercenaries; however, thanks to Jaina, who had given him a considerable amount in untraceable gold, he was able to hire them. Their skills would, Baine was certain, prove vital.
The shape of a kodo appeared on the road, a small dot, and as it drew closer, Baine recognized its passenger as Stormsong. He drew his large mount alongside Baine, who went on hoof.
"Good news?" asked Baine.
"As good as possible," Stormsong said. "Gazlowe agreed to provide all we need in four days. And he did not even accept the full amount. He said to tell you he always admired Cairne and supported our cause."
"Really?" Baine glanced up at him, surprised. "A true declaration of loyalty from a goblin. I am pleased."
Hamuul had been talking with his fellow druids. Now he stepped forward. "As you predicted, they know we are coming. We have spies who inform us that Thunder Bluff is preparing for a siege. The good news is, they are gathering all their resources and warriors there and not attacking us on the road."
Baine nodded. "They think Thunder Bluff impossible to claim and that any challenge on the road will be a waste of Grimtotem lives."