Hasana felt that as long as her feet weren't on the ground, her clever brain could never occupy the high ground. No matter how much she explained, the great leaders before her only seemed to get more confused.
Although she had never seen the Dark Portal with her own eyes, she knew it was a towering, magnificent gate. The black frame she saw in the Goldshire net cafe, however, was only about the length of an arm.
"So it's a smaller portal? One that... constantly produces troops?" Saurfang asked.
It had to be said that the Orcs, who centered their culture on clans and primal Shamanism, were relatively behind in the exploration of science and technology. It wasn't that Saurfang was overcomplicating things; rather, the technological gap was so vast it was like a two-dimensional being trying to imagine the third dimension.
"It is... and it isn't," Hasana struggled. "I saw them assign peasants to chop wood and gather food, and then the buildings could continuously produce troops for battle."
Seeing the expressions on their faces, she realized she wouldn't be able to explain this point clearly today. She shifted gears: "That black frame can also play other games—one-on-one duels! Just like... Mak'gora!"
"Mak'gora." In Orcish, it means "Duel of Honor." It is a traditional custom where one person challenges another to a fight to the death.
After Thrall established Orgrimmar and spread this custom to the Trolls, Tauren, and other races, he had ordered that Mak'gora be changed to a non-lethal duel. Of course, if both parties agreed, it could still be to the death.
Everyone present found it strange. When did humans accept Orcish customs? Based on past contact, those arrogant, haughty, and strangely fastidious "weak" races looked down on Horde culture, let alone accepting it.
Even Rokhan spoke up: "They... those humans, inside the black frame you mentioned, they perform Mak'gora?"
"Yes!" Hasana confirmed.
"To the death?" Rokhan pressed.
"No. When one person hits the other, a green bar above the person's head decreases. Whoever runs out of green first falls down and can no longer fight; they are judged the loser."
"What are these humans doing?" Saurfang's voice rose. "A green bar? They dare to mess with our supreme honor of Mak'gora like this?!"
"What kind of bullshit judging method is that? Fighting until one side can't get up or surrenders is the best and most effective way. What's with this 'green bar'? It's a desecration of Mak'gora!"
The Orc Overlord valued Mak'gora so highly for two reasons. First, it was the soul of the Orcs. Second, their Warchief—Thrall—had once been kept as a slave gladiator by humans, forced into duel after duel to earn gold for his masters.
In his eyes, the combination of "green bars" and dueling was undoubtedly a mockery and insult directed at the Warchief of the Horde.
"Varok, there is no need to be so agitated," Thrall said calmly.
Hearing the Warchief call his name, Saurfang immediately stopped his cursing.
Hasana was nervous. She looked at Thrall, who nodded for her to continue. However, her next words made everyone feel that things might not be so bad.
"Finally, a black-and-white, fat, round, mixed-hair beast defeated all the humans and became the champion," Hasana reported. "The humans gave him the title of World Fighting Champion. And I..."
"You what?" Rokhan asked.
"I tried to ambush that black-and-white beast to show him that their competition was worthless... but he... he subdued me in a single move." Her voice trailed off into a whisper at the end.
Thrall pointed to his eyes, gesturing. "Did he have black circles around his eyes?"
Hasana nodded.
Thrall pointed to his chin. "Did he have a full beard?"
Hasana nodded again.
Thrall pointed to the top of his head. "If he took off his hat, was there a vertical braid on his head?"
Hasana kept nodding, her face full of surprise.
Finally, Thrall asked seriously, "Was he... called Chen Stormstout?"
Hasana's mouth hung open. "...Yes... yes!"
"Chen... is with the humans?" Thrall mused.
"They... they let me go. It was this Chen and the owner of the net cafe... But the owner said he had a message for me to pass on... to the Warchief."
"Oh?" Thrall couldn't help but look at the others in the room. He hadn't expected the owner of this mysterious net cafe to have words for him.
"Nonsense!" Saurfang barked. "Is a hero of the Horde someone a human can just summon at will?"
"Perhaps... there is a conspiracy involved?" Rokhan suggested.
"No," Thrall countered. "Don't forget, Chen is also a hero of the Horde. Without his and Rexxar's efforts, the Orgrimmar we are standing in might have been destroyed by the Kul Tiras fleet long ago."
"But he is with humans," Saurfang stated flatly.
"The Pandaren follow their own hearts," Thrall said. "Hasana, tell me, what did the human want you to convey?"
"He said... he wants to invite the greatest beastmaster of the Horde to Goldshire to compete for the championship... and... to help Chen prepare for a match."
Hasana continued, "He also said... in exchange, if Rexxar goes, he is willing to tell us the secret of the Black Dragon."
As soon as these words were spoken, everyone in the room widened their eyes!
Thrall had agreed to investigate the net cafe through the neutral Argent Dawn precisely because he wanted to understand the reason and intention behind the Black Dragon's appearance there. And the current turmoil also had the lingering shadow of the Black Dragon.
If it were just for a duel, Thrall wouldn't have been interested at all. But he was willing to send someone to deliver a letter to Chen, check on his current situation, and confirm he hadn't joined the Alliance.
But now, the other party had offered the secret of the Black Dragon in exchange, which undoubtedly tempted Thrall.
After all, that was Chen Stormstout—a true hero who had fought by his side and saved Orgrimmar from the brink of destruction. Thrall had put in a lot of effort to try and get him to stay back then. With the Pandaren's military merits and powerful martial skills, he could have easily held a rank no lower than General.
But Chen had ignored the invitation. After leaving his favorite brewing recipes with the brewmasters of Orgrimmar, he had vanished without a word. No one knew where he went. Furthermore, Chen had also become an eternal friend of Ironforge, yet he had similarly refused the Alliance's invitation.
Such a person wouldn't change his mind for a mere title like World Fighting Champion.
The appearance of Chen, the secret of the Black Dragon, the "troop-producing black frames," and the war training in Arathi Basin—all mixed together—had piqued Thrall's curiosity to the extreme.
Hasana continued her report. After leaving, she had intended to go to Grom'gol Base in Stranglethorn Vale to take a zeppelin to Orgrimmar as quickly as possible. To her surprise, she encountered a hunting party in Stranglethorn led by a Dwarf.
The leader was named "Ne-something-re" (Nessingwary), carrying a hunting rifle. Not only was he frantically chasing panthers, tigers, and raptors, but he was also issuing bounties to passing adventurers. Anyone who killed a certain number or took down the alpha of a pack would receive rich rewards.
She was worried these people would capture her and take her back to Stormwind, so she stayed in stealth to avoid them. However, she heard another Dwarf in the hunting party say they originally wanted to visit the net cafe. But while passing through the area, a novel written by that "Ne-something-re" was scattered by a strong wind. The pages blew everywhere—some were eaten by beasts, others got stuck to their bodies and carried away. That's why he was offering bounties; he actually wanted his manuscript pages back.
In the end, Hasana was forced to detour to Booty Bay, take a goblin ferry to Ratchet, and then trek through the wilds back to the Echo Isles, which led to Rokhan's accompaniment.
Hasana finally finished her report. Before letting her leave, Saurfang asked one last question.
"What is the name of that owner?"
"Everyone there calls him Old Miller," Hasana replied.
The people in the room looked at each other. "Old Miller? What kind of name is that?"
"Just two words?" Thrall asked.
Hasana seemed to be thinking very hard. "I think I heard someone from the Argent Dawn mention... called Mene-er... I think..."
The moment she said this, Saurfang's eyes went wide!
"What are you saying? What is that man's name?!"
Hasana thought to herself: They knew that Chen just now, could it be they know the owner too?
Straining her memory, she said, "Mi... something-ne-til (Menethil)?"
Her uncertain tone only served to confirm a thought in the minds of Thrall and Saurfang.
"Could it be... Menethil?!"
If he were truly a descendant of that surname, a member of the Lordaeron royalty, then his actions outside Stormwind would be both logical and incredibly complex!