War Crimes

18

Tyrande looked at Go’el, seated in the witness chair, and then laughed softly, shaking her head. Taran Zhu frowned.

“Chu’shao, do you need a moment?”

“No, Fa’shua, I ask the court’s forgiveness. I was simply trying to think of how to introduce Go’el.”

“Let him introduce himself,” suggested Taran Zhu.

Tyrande lifted a brow, inviting the orc to speak.

Go’el looked up at the celestials, addressing them. “My name is Go’el. I am the son of Durotan and Draka, life-mate to Aggralan, daughter of Ryal. Father to Durak. I lead the Earthen Ring.”

“Can you tell us more about the Earthen Ring, and what it does for Azeroth?” asked Tyrande.

“The Earthen Ring is an organization composed of shaman of all races,” he said. “There, there is no conflict, only care for our world. Our present, overriding duty is to work with the elements to heal it from the destruction of the Cataclysm.”

“But you personally did more than most shaman, after the Cataclysm,” Tyrande continued. “You were instrumental in defeating the cause of the Cataclysm himself—the corrupted black Dragon Aspect, Deathwing.”

“I was honored to help.”

“You did more, World-Shaman Go’el, but for now, I would like you to tell the court about another name, and another title, you once held. Can you explain to us what your duties were prior to your heroic activities on the part of our world?”

“With the utmost respect, I protest,” said Baine, clearly reluctant.

“Fa’shua, I am merely establishing the nature of the witness’s character,” said Tyrande. “By anyone’s reckoning, Go’el is a truly remarkable individual.”

“I do not disagree with you, Accuser, but please move on. Go’el, please answer the question.”

“I was once known as Thrall, warchief of the Horde.”

“An interesting name, ‘Thrall,’ ” mused Tyrande. She had recovered from her earlier moment of confounded humor, and now walked leisurely around the courtroom. “Can you please tell us how you received it?”

“The word means ‘slave,’ ” Go’el said. “My parents had been murdered. I was found by a human, Aedelas Blackmoore, who named me and raised me to be a gladiator. I later learned his intention was to use me to lead an uprising of the orcs against the Alliance.”

“Obviously, you did not do so,” Tyrande said. “What did you do?”

“I escaped Blackmoore and set about freeing orcs from internment camps.”

“When was this?”

“A few years prior to the coming of the Legion.”

Tyrande nodded. “You built an army of freed orcs, did you not?”

“I did.”

“And what did you do with this army?”

“I led them against the control center for the internment camps, Durnholde Keep. I defeated Blackmoore and won freedom for my people. Eventually I led them across the ocean, to Kalimdor, and founded a new land and city—Durotar and Orgrimmar.”

“Orgrimmar, for Orgrim Doomhammer, and Durotar, for your father, Durotan. A land and a city for the orcs,” Tyrande said.

“It would be the new orcish homeland, yes,” Go’el said.

“Just for orcs?”

“No. I found strong and brave allies in Sen’jin, leader of the Darkspear trolls, and later in his son, Vol’jin. The tauren—I have openly said I believe them to be the heart of the Horde, and Cairne Bloodhoof was my brother. The Horde grew to encompass the Forsaken, the sin’dorei, a section of the goblin populace, and now it is also open to any pandaren who wishes to join us and believes in our ideals.”

“Some believe these choices diluted the true Horde.”

Go’el looked at Garrosh, who was seated in his usual place beside Baine. Garrosh gazed steadily back at him. “I believe that they have strengthened the Horde, not weakened it.”

“When did you step down, and why?”

“It was shortly after the defeat of the Lich King,” Go’el said. “Right after the Cataclysm shook Azeroth. I left for Nagrand, to study with the shaman there. To learn what was troubling the elements. The Horde needed leadership while I was away. Later, as I mastered my abilities, I joined with those who were working to calm the elements and save our world.”

“You appointed Garrosh Hellscream to take your place, did you not?”

“I did.” Go’el’s jaw tightened, but his voice remained civil.

“What were your reasons?”

“Garrosh had acted well and with honor in Northrend. He was young, courageous, a symbol of hope and victory to a people ground down by war and the horrors of the Scourge.”

“Did you have any misgivings?”

“I would have had one misgiving or another with anyone I appointed. I would have wondered, for instance, if the burden of leadership would be too much for those who were elderly. Or if the fact that they were not orcs would lead to discontent. There was no one perfect choice. Garrosh seemed to know his own limits, and there were many on hand to advise him.”

Tyrande nodded to Chromie. “May it please the court, I would like to show a Vision depicting this thought process.”

The scene took shape in the center of the arena, a moment Go’el recalled well.

“You will be returning soon?” Go’el blinked, surprised at the lack of confidence in the voice of the Garrosh in the Vision. He had truly forgotten how ill at ease Garrosh had once been with his heritage—and himself.

“I—do not know,” Go’el saw and heard himself say. “It may take time to learn what I must. I trust I will not be gone too long, but it could be weeks—even months.”

“But—the Horde! We need a warchief!”

“It is for the Horde that I go. Do not worry, Garrosh. I do not forsake it. I travel where I must, to serve as I must. We all serve the Horde. Even its warchief does so—perhaps especially its warchief. And well do I know that you serve it loyally too.”

“I do, Warchief. You were the one who taught me that my father was someone to be proud of, because of what he was willing to do for others. For the Horde. I have not been part of it for long. But even so, I have seen enough to know that, like my father, I would die for it.”

Go’el saw the looks of surprise on many faces in the temple as the Garrosh of the past spoke with such sincerity. For so long, the only Garrosh they had seen or heard tell of was the destroyer of Theramore. Go’el questioned Tyrande’s wisdom in showing this; surely it would win sympathy for Garrosh.

“You have already faced and cheated death,” Thrall said. “You have slain many of its minions. You have done more for this new Horde than many who have been part of it since the beginning. And know this: I would never leave without appointing someone able to take care of it, even during so brief a sojourn.”

“You—you are making me warchief?” Such surprise on that young face . . .

“No. But I am instructing you to lead the Horde on my behalf until I return.”

Garrosh groped for words. “I understand battle, yes. Tactics, how to rally troops—these things I know. Let me serve that way. Find me a foe to face and defeat, and you will see how proudly I will continue to serve the Horde. But I know nothing of politics, of . . . of ruling. I would rather have a sword in my fist than a scroll!”

“I understand that,” Thrall said. “But you will not be without sound advisors. I will ask Eitrigg and Cairne, both of whom have shared their wisdom with me through the years, to guide and advise you. Politics can be learned. Your obvious love for the Horde?” He shook his head. “That is more important to me than political acumen right now. And that, Garrosh Hellscream, you have in abundance.”

Still Garrosh seemed uncharacteristically hesitant. Finally he said, “If you deem me worthy, then know this. I shall do all that I can to bring glory to the Horde!”

“No need for glory at the moment,” Thrall said. “There will be enough of a challenge for you without any extra effort. The Horde’s honor is already assured. You just need to take care of it. Put its needs before your own, as your father did. The Kor’kron will be instructed to protect you as they would me. I go to Nagrand as a shaman, not as warchief of the Horde. Make good use of them—and of Cairne and Eitrigg. Would you go into battle without a weapon?”

Garrosh looked confused. “That is a foolish question, Warchief, and you know it.”

“Oh, I do. I am making sure you understand what powerful weapons you have,” Thrall said. “My advisors are my weapons as I struggle to always do what is best for the Horde. They see things I do not, present options I did not know I had. Only a fool would scorn such things. And I do not think you a fool.”

“I am not a fool, Warchief. You would not ask me to serve so if you thought me one.”

“True. So, Garrosh, do you agree to lead the Horde until such time as I return? Taking advice from Eitrigg and Cairne when they offer it?”

Garrosh took a deep breath. “It is my true longing to lead the Horde to the best of my ability. And so, yes, a thousand times yes, my warchief. I will lead as well as I can, and I will consult with the advisors you suggest. I know what a tremendous honor you do me, and I will strive to be worthy of it.”

“Then it is done,” Thrall said. “For the Horde!”

“For the Horde!”

“Stop here, please.” The scene froze. Tyrande walked up to the still, enormous figures, looking carefully at the younger Garrosh. He looked happy and deeply moved. She then turned and looked at the present Garrosh, silent, chained, his eyes half shut as he stared back at her. She didn’t need to say a word, Go’el realized. The contrast between the two versions of Garrosh Hellscream could not have been starker.

She shook her head, as if having difficulty believing the evidence of her own eyes, then resumed. “Please tell us what happened after you left—presumably for a brief time.”

“The Cataclysm struck,” Go’el said. “My shamanic abilities were needed more than I—than anyone—could have anticipated.”

“So that kept you from returning? Your studies?”

“Initially. I then went to the Maelstrom, to aid the Earthen Ring in their efforts to calm the elements, as I said earlier. But after Deathwing exploded into our world, my skills with the element of earth, especially, proved to be important.”

“I would say absolutely vital to his destruction,” Tyrande said. She cast a quick glance in Baine’s direction, no doubt expecting a protest, but there was none. “In the absence of the original, uncorrupted Neltharion, there was no Earth-Warder, is that correct?”

“Yes.” Go’el shifted uncomfortably.

“And only you were strong enough to hold the element of the earth against Chromatus, and the Demon Soul against Deathwing, is that true?”

“Yes,” Go’el said. “Even so, we would have failed without the help of many others from both sides. And I maintain that any other shaman capable would have unhesitatingly taken the risks upon himself or herself.”

“But there was no one else capable,” Tyrande pressed.

“No,” Go’el said. He disliked being regarded, even temporarily, as an Aspect’s equal, or given credit for any particular remarkable act of heroism when he knew bone-deep that any member of the Earthen Ring would have done the same if he or she could have.

“And after Deathwing’s fall, you returned to the Maelstrom, where you continued your work, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Even by then, word of what Garrosh was starting to do had reached your ears.”

He shot her a searching look, then nodded. “Yes.”

“Many feel you should have returned to lead the Horde once this started.”

“Those who say so were not with me in the Maelstrom,” Go’el said. “Any one of the Earthen Ring who served there can tell you that no one was dispensable.”

“So, you were forbidden to leave?”

“No. No one was ordered to stay. We had to search our own hearts as to what was best. I still heard the call of the elements, and so, I knew I had to remain.”

“Suppose you had not continued to hear the call. That you had been able to leave the Maelstrom. What would you have done? Would you have perhaps gone to Orgrimmar and told Garrosh to get off your throne?”

“By then he was the warchief. I had no authority to do such a thing. I was not even a member of the Horde, truly, by that point. I became the leader of the Earthen Ring, and it was there that my loyalties lay. Other leaders were in a position to make change, but I was not. I did not even know for certain if my old vision of the Horde was still what the people wanted.”

“I am not sure I understand.” Go’el knew she did, but he nonetheless welcomed the chance to speak something that had weighed on him.

“The world did not wait on my return,” he said with a self-deprecating smile. “It changed. The orcs changed. My Horde changed. What was I to do—kill my fellow orcs until it was once again my Horde? Did I have any right to force the Horde to be what it was under my leadership? Did I even have a voice to protest anymore, if I had chosen another path?”

“If you had been asked—what would you have done?”

“I was indeed asked for help by Vol’jin. And the moment I received that request from my brother, I answered it with a full heart.”

“What did you and those who followed you have to do to help Vol’jin and the trolls?”

Go’el did not answer at once. “Kill the Kor’kron who were holding the Echo Isles under martial law.”

“Was that not acting against the will of the warchief?”

“It was. But regardless of who leads it, the Horde is, and always will be, family. This was not an outward defense or even an incursion against an enemy. This was the Horde attacking its own.”

“And this is what made you decide to take arms against Garrosh.”

“Yes. I could not stand idle when asked to aid my brother against one who should value him, not seek to kill him.”

Tyrande smiled and inclined her head in a gesture of respect. “Thank you, Go’el. I have no more questions. Defender, your witness.”

Go’el realized that, grueling as Tyrande’s examination had been, it would be nothing compared to what was coming. His friend Baine, son of Cairne Bloodhoof, had risen. Go’el had seen what Baine had done to Vol’jin—Baine’s ally and friend against Garrosh, who had urged the tauren to take the responsibility and defend Hellscream to the best of his ability.

Baine had done so, and was continuing to do so. And he, no doubt, would attack Go’el as he had the troll.

How have we come to this place, all of us? Go’el wondered, and steeled himself for the interrogation.