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to sit and then sat himself down cross-legged on the ground. Tirion took a seat on the leveled mortar.
    “There is much you do not know about my people. Their honor and their pride left them long ago. I decided my duty to them was finished when my sons were killed,” Eitrigg said grimly.
    “Were your sons warriors?” Tirion asked. Eitrigg scoffed loudly.
    “All orcs are warriors, human,” he said, as if Tirion were a brainless child. “We know little else. Despite my sons’ strength and prowess, they were betrayed by their own leaders. During the last war our clan Chieftains fought amongst themselves over petty rivalries. As one particularly bloody battle concluded, my sons were ordered to pull back from the front lines. One of our Chieftain’s rivals, hoping to advance his clan’s standing within the Horde, countermanded the order and sent my sons and their brethren back to be slaughtered. It was a dark day for our clan. . . .” Eitrigg said, lost in thought. “A dark day for me,” he finished.
    Tirion’s mind reeled. He was well aware of the fact that orcs frequently fought amongst themselves. Yet Eitrigg’s apparent grief moved him. He never imagined that such treachery could affect an orc so.
    “I realized then that there was no hope. Corruption and enmity had completely overshadowed my people’s spirit. I felt that it was only a matter of time before the Horde devoured itself from within,” Eitrigg said.
    “Where did the corruption come from, Eitrigg? What drove your people to such depravity?” Tirion asked.
    Eitrigg’s brow raised and he appeared to be deep in thought. “In my grandfather’s time, my people were simple and proud. There were a few dozen clans then. They lived and hunted within the wilds of our world. They were all hunters back then—mighty warriors who lived by an honorable code and worshiped the spirits of the elements themselves. Thunder and lightning coursed through the blood of my ancestors!” Eitrigg said proudly, lost in the haze of reverie. “Wise Shamans guided them and kept the peace between the clans.”
    Tirion leaned in, hanging on the old orc’s words. Surely, no human ears had ever heard this much of the orcs’ history before. “And then?” Tirion asked anxiously. He wondered if this was how Taelan felt, as he read the boy stories before his bedtime. Eitrigg continued somberly.
    “A new order rose up amongst the clans, promising to unite them and forge them into a powerful nation. Many of the Shamans discarded their ancient traditions and began to practice dark magics. They began to call themselves Warlocks. For some malign purpose, they used their shadowy powers to corrupt the clans and drive them to heinous acts of violence. They did succeed in uniting my people, after a fashion,” Eitrigg stated wryly. “Under the Warlocks’ rule, the clans
were
united—as a rampaging Horde. Our noble warrior traditions were perverted to serve their dark, secretive ends. It was the Warlocks who brought my people to your world, human. It was they who drove us to make war against you.”
    Tirion shook his head in bewilderment. “And no one spoke out against them? Out of an entire race of warriors, no one was willing to fight them?” Tirion asked heatedly.
    “There were a few who would not submit. One of the dissident clans, led by an orc named Durotan, challenged the Warlocks openly and tried to convince the other clans of their folly. I remember the mighty Durotan well. He was a great hero. Unfortunately, few orcs heeded Durotan’s warnings. The Warlocks’ hold over their hearts blinded them to reason. For his courage, Durotan was exiled, along with his clan. I heard that the Warlocks’ assassins finally killed him, years later. Such is the way of the Horde,” Eitrigg finished. “Madness,” Tirion said. “If your people truly valued honor, as you’ve said, then I can’t believe that they’d let themselves be controlled so easily.”
    Eitrigg scowled and sat