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Dec. 1st, 2014 08:59 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
spirits_be_witchaThis contains MAJOR spoilers for the finale of the Nagrand zone of Warlords of Draenor.
What: News comes to Orgrimmar.
Rating: PG13 for references to fantasy violence
He's in the middle of a day of hearing petitions when the ghost walks through the hold.
He's seen enough spirits in his days that its presence doesn't surprise him, though its obvious identity does. Some of the others in the room stiffen, though the rest seem at first oblivious as Garrosh Hellscream ambles from the doorway leading to the Warchief's personal apartments to the passage leading out of the hold, leaving behind him only the smell of blood and scorched earth, and Vol'jin feels sure he knows exactly how the orc met his end.
The rest of the room seems to finally realize something's amiss by the sudden tension in the air, and Vol'jin forces himself to take a breath that takes a surprising amount of anger with it when he lets it out again, turning his attention back to the puzzled supplicant at the foot of the dais.
After the vision, it takes just under half an hour before one of his hunters and a female orc in heavy furs are shown into the throne room. He nods to them, inclining his head toward the smaller, more private meeting room, and they make their way to it as Vol'jin finishes promising to send a force to clear out a nest of quillboar that have been encroaching on a nearby farm. The rest of his line is told to return in a few hours, and he has the hold cleared aside from his council. The guards are ordered to keep everyone else out, and he leads the smaller group into the side chamber.
The orc turns to face them as they file into the room, his hunter rising from his crouch, waiting until Vol'jin prompts to pass over a small, sealed scroll. Vol'jin pauses for a moment, recognizing Thrall's hand even before he sees the seal, and then tucks it away, nodding for the messengers to give their news. Considering the gravity of the announcement, the actual telling seems almost too easy. The Frostwolves led an assault on Grommashar. Things went well enough with minimal losses, and Durotan and another commander whose name has been on many reports from Draenor eventually went to face down Garrosh himself. The warlord might have gained the upper hand on the two of them if Thrall hadn't stepped in and challenged the younger orc to Mak'gora. It still almost wasn't enough, Garrosh having an advantage over Thrall in terms of strength alone - but Thrall had the elements on his side, and they had answered when he called.
And that was that.
For the years of headaches Garrosh had given all of them, for all that it had taken a rare accord between the Horde and Alliance to remove him and his people from Orgrimmar, for all that it had taken passing through time to fight alongside heroes of old, in the end, it had taken the not-insignificant might of one shaman to finish it.
The relief in the room is palpable, and Vol'jin allows them all the well-deserved moment before he breaks it. There are other people who need to know, including the whole of Orgrimmar and the rest of the Horde, and who need to hear it from their new warchief before it begins to spread through gossip. His hunter assures him other messengers were sent with them to the other Horde strongholds, and the Kirin Tor had claimed responsibility for alerting Varian.
He dismisses the messengers and his council both, asking for a dozen messengers and the same number of guards to join him in the hold's main room. All of them seem to know something big is happening, but their shock is still obvious when he gives them the news. He doesn't keep them long, assigning pairs to the different parts of the city and the outlying areas before sending them on their way. He knows most of the city suffered under Garrosh's rule and will be glad to hear it, but there is a small percentage who still, despite it all, supported him. That thought in mind, he calls several more Darkspear guards to the hold. He has plenty of faith in the Horde's people, but he hasn't survived this long by not knowing how to watch his own back.
There's a moment, then, where it's just him and his usual guards, and he sinks down onto the Warchief's seat, one hand closing around Thrall's letter where it rests in his belt. He doesn't pull it free yet, just breathes and lets himself absorb the news. He had meant every word of the threat he had made to Garrosh before he had taken most of his people to reclaim their home, and part of him envies Thrall for having had the final blow. A less foolish part knows none of them would have taken actual joy in ending Garrosh's life, no matter what mess he made of it. And, in the end, it doesn't matter whose hand dealt the final blow, only that it was dealt.
That in mind, Vol'jin allows himself a wicked grin as the first cheers start outside the hold. The celebrations will continue for some time, he has no doubt. He knows he'll need to do his own tour of the city, to help his guards keep things from getting out of hand, but for now, he breaks the seal on Thrall's letter, already vowing to reach out through his magic later instead of sending a written reply.
He knows it will take time for the Horde to leave behind the shadow of Garrosh Hellscream, but the orc's death is a significant step down the path he had in mind when he made his promises to the combined armies: a promise to lead the Horde with the honor it lacked for too long.
What: News comes to Orgrimmar.
Rating: PG13 for references to fantasy violence
He's in the middle of a day of hearing petitions when the ghost walks through the hold.
He's seen enough spirits in his days that its presence doesn't surprise him, though its obvious identity does. Some of the others in the room stiffen, though the rest seem at first oblivious as Garrosh Hellscream ambles from the doorway leading to the Warchief's personal apartments to the passage leading out of the hold, leaving behind him only the smell of blood and scorched earth, and Vol'jin feels sure he knows exactly how the orc met his end.
The rest of the room seems to finally realize something's amiss by the sudden tension in the air, and Vol'jin forces himself to take a breath that takes a surprising amount of anger with it when he lets it out again, turning his attention back to the puzzled supplicant at the foot of the dais.
After the vision, it takes just under half an hour before one of his hunters and a female orc in heavy furs are shown into the throne room. He nods to them, inclining his head toward the smaller, more private meeting room, and they make their way to it as Vol'jin finishes promising to send a force to clear out a nest of quillboar that have been encroaching on a nearby farm. The rest of his line is told to return in a few hours, and he has the hold cleared aside from his council. The guards are ordered to keep everyone else out, and he leads the smaller group into the side chamber.
The orc turns to face them as they file into the room, his hunter rising from his crouch, waiting until Vol'jin prompts to pass over a small, sealed scroll. Vol'jin pauses for a moment, recognizing Thrall's hand even before he sees the seal, and then tucks it away, nodding for the messengers to give their news. Considering the gravity of the announcement, the actual telling seems almost too easy. The Frostwolves led an assault on Grommashar. Things went well enough with minimal losses, and Durotan and another commander whose name has been on many reports from Draenor eventually went to face down Garrosh himself. The warlord might have gained the upper hand on the two of them if Thrall hadn't stepped in and challenged the younger orc to Mak'gora. It still almost wasn't enough, Garrosh having an advantage over Thrall in terms of strength alone - but Thrall had the elements on his side, and they had answered when he called.
And that was that.
For the years of headaches Garrosh had given all of them, for all that it had taken a rare accord between the Horde and Alliance to remove him and his people from Orgrimmar, for all that it had taken passing through time to fight alongside heroes of old, in the end, it had taken the not-insignificant might of one shaman to finish it.
The relief in the room is palpable, and Vol'jin allows them all the well-deserved moment before he breaks it. There are other people who need to know, including the whole of Orgrimmar and the rest of the Horde, and who need to hear it from their new warchief before it begins to spread through gossip. His hunter assures him other messengers were sent with them to the other Horde strongholds, and the Kirin Tor had claimed responsibility for alerting Varian.
He dismisses the messengers and his council both, asking for a dozen messengers and the same number of guards to join him in the hold's main room. All of them seem to know something big is happening, but their shock is still obvious when he gives them the news. He doesn't keep them long, assigning pairs to the different parts of the city and the outlying areas before sending them on their way. He knows most of the city suffered under Garrosh's rule and will be glad to hear it, but there is a small percentage who still, despite it all, supported him. That thought in mind, he calls several more Darkspear guards to the hold. He has plenty of faith in the Horde's people, but he hasn't survived this long by not knowing how to watch his own back.
There's a moment, then, where it's just him and his usual guards, and he sinks down onto the Warchief's seat, one hand closing around Thrall's letter where it rests in his belt. He doesn't pull it free yet, just breathes and lets himself absorb the news. He had meant every word of the threat he had made to Garrosh before he had taken most of his people to reclaim their home, and part of him envies Thrall for having had the final blow. A less foolish part knows none of them would have taken actual joy in ending Garrosh's life, no matter what mess he made of it. And, in the end, it doesn't matter whose hand dealt the final blow, only that it was dealt.
That in mind, Vol'jin allows himself a wicked grin as the first cheers start outside the hold. The celebrations will continue for some time, he has no doubt. He knows he'll need to do his own tour of the city, to help his guards keep things from getting out of hand, but for now, he breaks the seal on Thrall's letter, already vowing to reach out through his magic later instead of sending a written reply.
He knows it will take time for the Horde to leave behind the shadow of Garrosh Hellscream, but the orc's death is a significant step down the path he had in mind when he made his promises to the combined armies: a promise to lead the Horde with the honor it lacked for too long.
