Disclaimer: I do not own Warcraft or any of it's affiliates. Warcraft and all related characters are the property of Blizzard Entertainment.

(But Millas, Nakha, and Hamard are mine. Darkreaper is my cousin's)


The Rain was pouring on the desolate country that was Durotar, Home of the orcs. Nakha, a brash young orc grunt under the Warchief, Thrall, was standing at his post at the gate of the great city of Orgrimmar he remarked to his partner, Mordrim, "I wish that the Warchief would transfer me to the Outland. I wish to see the land our people came from. That and to spill the blood a few burning legion stooges." " Nakha, you must be patient, the Warchief will send you to Outland eventually. I have noticed how he watches you constantly, it seems he really holds you in high regards since your battle with the Human called Millas." Mordrim remarked, " After all, it was you who captured him." "Maybe so. But it was also me who let him escape." Nakha replied. "Don't doubt yourself, he may have escaped under your watch, but it's not your fault." Mordrim said. "Maybe so, but it was all the other human prisoners that escaped with him, he has shamed me." Nakha rubbed a scar that the human had left on his shoulder, "And I will have my revenge."

In the keep of the human capital of Stormwind, a special ceremony is being held to honor the return of Millas, one of the finest knights in all of Azeroth. King Andurin Wryyn had gathered all of Millas' closest friends to bear witness to Millas' promotion to Grand Marshal. "Millas, son of David, Knight of Stormwind, I Anduin Wryyn, King of Stormwind hereby grant you the honorable rank of Grand Marshal, for your heroism in freeing the human prisoners in the dungeons of the orc capital of Orgrimmar, and escaping without any casualties." King Wryyn spoke, "You shall be stationed wherever you wish, with an army behind you. Now, speak." "Sire, I wish to be sent to Outland to fight the Burning Legion." Millas said. "Very well, I shall notify Honor Hold." The King said. "Thank you, My Lord" Millas replied.

Chapter 1

Millas was at his cottage in Elwyyn Forest, near Mirror Lake, packing his possessions and polishing his armor that he had had since the 3rd war. He had chosen to keep his footman armor; instead of taking the golden Grand Marshal armor he was offered. There was a knock at the door, he went to open it. It was Darkreaper, his closest friend. Millas had befriended the rogue Night Elf shortly after the battle of Mount Hyjal, when Darkreaper found Millas unconscious in the land of Winterspring. Millas had been flung miles from Mount Hyjal after the demon, Archimonde, was destroyed. Darkreaper had found him and healed him. They made their way together to Darkshore, where the remaining Night Elves were preparing to depart for the tree Teldrassil, and the Humans back to Kahz Modan. Darkreaper went with Millas to Azeroth before returning to his own people. And the have been friends ever since. "Dark, do you need something?" Millas said while still going about his packing, "Yes, I have decided to come with you to Outland, and I need a ride there." Darkreaper said with that cool tone of his, "That is, if you'll have me." "Dark, you've been my friend for as long as I can remember, I would be honored if you would fight alongside me against the Scourge." Millas said as he held out his hand. Darkreaper grasped it firmly, and with a smirk on his face he said "Together then."

At the end of the week Millas and Darkreaper had received word from the King that Millas' battalion was ready to depart. He was given command of the 263rd Volunteers, with whom he had served with for a short while during the third war. They were assembled outside the Stormwind City Gate; Millas rode his horse up to the front of the troops. He looked them over and addressed them, "My comrades," He said with a booming voice; "We have the honor of being sent to Outland to help destroy the Legion! We are going to march for 5 days to the Blasted Lands, through the eternal night that is Duskwood, and passed the Swamp of Sorrows. We shall not falter, for I know that in your hearts you wish to reach Outland safely. So follow Darkreaper's instructions, and we will get there safely!"

"Now onward, brave warriors of Azeroth! To our destinies!" Millas' speech was met with a thunderous cheer that rang through the streets of Stormwind. As the small army marched through the forest, Millas looked to the west, and could barely make out the shape of his cottage, and he wondered if he would ever see it again. "Marshal Millas, wait!" Millas turned and saw a guard running towards him. "Sir," the guard panted, "King Wryyn sends word that you will be met at Netherguarde by the wizard Hamard. He is going to be your adviser in the abyss that is Outland." "Very well, soldier" Millas said, "I will meet the wizard at Nethergarde. Farewell." With a salute Millas turned and rode to catch up with his troops.

Nakha had been summoned by the Warchief Thrall himself, as he entered the royal chamber, he kneeled before the great warrior who wore the black armor of the former Warchief, Orgrim Doomhammer. Thrall's blue eyes looked upon Nakha, and he said "Rise Nakha, son of Gortan. I have heard about the incident with the humans. And I do not blame you." Nakha looked up at the great warchief, "The humans have always been cunning, and this particular human, what did you say his name was?" "The human's name was Millas, Warchief." Nakha said, "Yes, this Millas adapted my strategy from when I destroyed the human internment camps." Thrall continued, "But this is beside the point, I am sending you to Outland, to lead a new detachment of grunts from the Valley of Trials." "Nakha, son of Gortan, I, Thrall bequeath you with the rank of General. Your troops will be here in one week. You may choose anyone you wish to serve as your lieutenants. Prepare yourself, General, you have along journey ahead of you." "Thank you, my Warchief" Nakha said as he backed out of Thrall's chamber with a bow.

Nakha immediately went to Mordrim's hut in The Drag of Orgrimmar. He rapped on the door. There was a thunk and the figure of Mordrim was standing in the doorway. "Nakha?" Mordrim asked dazedly, he had obviously been sleeping. "What do you want? It's nowhere near time for our shift." "Mordrim, my friend, I am sorry to wake you at this late hour, but I've just come from the warchief's chambers." Nakha started, "I've been promoted to General, and I've been transferred to Outland with my own brigade," Mordrim stared at Nakha, he thought it strange that his oldest friend was so happy to be transferred so far from home, and himself. "And I want you to come along as my Lieutenant." Mordrim's face turned from puzzled jealousy to absolute joyous surprise.

"Nakha, that's the best news I've heard in years. When do we leave" Mordim asked, "in one week." Nakha replied, "so be ready, and don't worry about your shift tomorrow, I'll tell them that you're no longer a guard."

After the week had passed, Nakha and Mordrim had received their new armor and weapons from the blacksmith, and their orders on how to get to the Blasted Lands. The grunts arrived on schedule, and both Nakha and Mordrim had received armor for their wargs. Nakha and Mordrim looked over their troop with envy, "Never thought I'd see the day," Nakha said, "that I would have my own army, with you by my side, Mordrim, we cannot fail to drive the Legion from Outland." "Indeed, my old friend" Mordrim replied.

In the army, there were five hundred grunts, two hundred troll axe-throwers, and fifty Kodo Drummers. The tauren had sent two hundred warriors, and one hundred druids. The tauren druids were going to be used as scouts, they were also very formidable in a fight. The shaman Teletha was accompanying them as an advisor to Nakha. Her control over the elements rivaled that of the warchief himself.

The army was assembled outside the gate of Orgrimmar, and it stretched all the way to Razor Hill. "My brethren!" Nakha's voice was amplified by a shaman's control of the wind to carry his voice to the back of the army, "Our destiny is nigh! We depart from Ratchet to the goblin port of Booty Bay in 3 days. Let us be on our way through the barrens to the port of Ratchet! For the glory of the Horde!" Thunderous grunting was ringing through the army, and the all started southwest. Toward the port of Ratchet.