The Burning Blade orc grunted with boredom. Today was his day on patrol, but then every day was a day on patrol for an orc at Thunder Axe Fortress. As his gaze rose to the dreary landscape of Desolace, the orc heard the squeal of a pig. But before he had time to even register how out-of-place such a sound was, his leg exploded into pain.

He looked down in horror to see a pig with its teeth sunk deep into his leg. He reached for his axe, planning to try to cleave the damn thing off—he felt another hit, like a punch to the gut, he felt sick as he saw an arrow in his stomach, surrounded by green steam. He looked up in horror to see a blood elf with a large bow, watching her arrow land.

Then, adding insult to injury, he turned to see a troll just as he burst into flames. He retaliated against the only one he could reach, the pig, but was able to get in one wild miss before another arrow hit. The orc grunted one last time before he sank to the ground.