"Teacher?" Alastor called out, a bit worried as he saw Henry's face darken, as if he were remembering some terrible memory.
Henry snapped out of his reverie and lightly shook his head. He gave Alastor a smile and played off his brief episode.
"Forgive me, Your Highness. I might be getting a bit too old if I've started daydreaming in the middle of my lessons. Haha, let's continue so you can leave."
Alastor wanted to ask if he was truly fine to continue, but thought better of it.
"Now, let's move on to the current geopolitical state of Azeroth. First of all, humanity."
"After the conclusion of the wars, Arathor enjoyed a period of great development and prosperity in matters of commerce, culture, and military might."
"The then city-states of Gilneas and Alterac, with their mighty armies, secured humanity's borders and lands."
"On an island south of the imperial capital, Kul Tiras was built and developed a prosperous economy based on fishing, shipping, and commerce. Meanwhile, Dalaran became the chief centre of learning for magicians throughout the land."
"Sadly, after many centuries of peace, the day came when the leadership—or rather, the descendants of that leadership—began to deteriorate. The nobles of Strom, seeking lusher lands, purity, and enlightenment, decided to leave the arid surroundings of the imperial capital despite the objections of the royal family."
"Far to the north of Dalaran, the greater citizenry founded a city-state named Lordaeron after the surrounding region. It eventually became a central hub for religious travellers and all those who sought inner peace and security."
"Master Henry, isn't Lordaeron also the kingdom in which the Church of the Holy Light is located?" Alastor inquired.
"Indeed it is. In fact, its most prosperous city, Stratholme, is considered one of its central holy sites. I even met the current Archbishop, who is also an old friend of mine, Alonsus Faol, there."
Henry smiled as he remembered his old friend.
"I do hope you visit it one day, Your Highness. It is quite a beautiful and pleasant place."
After the brief trip down memory lane, Henry continued where he had left off.
"Afterwards, the remaining Arathi descendants also departed, leaving the people who remained in Strom to rebuild it into a new martial city. It is now known as Stromgarde, the capital of the kingdom bearing the same name."
"The Arathi descendants who left decided to travel south, past the rocky lands of Khaz Modan. After many long seasons of travel, they settled in the southern region of the continent of Arda and founded the Kingdom of Stormwind."
Alastor's smile widened as the topic reached his home kingdom. Lordaeron might be called the "strongest" human kingdom, but Stormwind would always be the best.
Was he biased because of his family?
Yes.
Yes, he was.
"And that is the general overview of the current human kingdoms, which, aside from Lordaeron and Stormwind, arose from the old capital and the four most prosperous city-states of the Arathor Empire. Such has been the state of affairs for the last twelve hundred years."
"Hasn't anyone tried to remake the Arathor Empire, Master Henry?"
Henry answered easily enough.
"Oh, there have been many attempts, but not everyone possessed the capability of Emperor Thoradin."
"Most of these so-called warlords were defeated before they could accomplish anything significant. But let's move on to the other races, shall we?"
"First are the Dwarves. There are—or rather, there were—three main Dwarven clans: the Bronzebeards, the Wildhammers, and the Black Iron Dwarves. Now only the Bronzebeards and the Wildhammers remain. The Bronzebeards live in the Kingdom of Khaz Modan, or as we call it in the human tongue, Ironforge."
"The Wildhammer Dwarves live in the Hinterlands and the Twilight Highlands. Their main stronghold is Aerie Peak, located in the Hinterlands."
"The High Elves reside in the northernmost part of the continent of Arda. Sharing a border with Lordaeron, their kingdom is called Quel'Thalas, with its capital being Silvermoon City, surrounded by the vast Eversong Forest."
"And finally, the Savage Lands. These lands are the southernmost part of Arda, located in its southeastern region. These are not lands where order can endure, my prince, for they are dominated by the Orks."
Henry's face darkened.
"Almost constantly, the Ork clans are engaged in conflicts with one another or with the Beastkin that inhabit the neighbouring Stranglethorn Vale. At times, powerful Warbosses unite them and lead Waaaghs beyond the Savage Lands and the Vale against the human kingdoms and the Dwarves."
Alastor frowned as he remembered the Orks. These savage monsters possessed an insatiable craving for violence and conflict, almost as much as humans needed air itself.
If they were not fighting among themselves or the Beastkin, they were attacking the other races, with Stormwind and the Dwarves being their most frequent opponents.
But that did not mean the other kingdoms—or even the Elves—were safe. If a powerful Ork Warboss developed a desire to fight the northern humans or the Elves, he would not hesitate.
They would readily sail across the seas or cross the mountain ranges to reach their enemies and fight them—or, as the Orks would say, "Krump" them.
Perhaps only the Night Elves, living upon their distant archipelago, were relatively safe and had the least amount of contact with the Orks—or with anyone else, for that matter.
He knew there had been many times when his father and surrogate uncle, King Llane and Anduin Lothar, had been forced to leave the city for the battlefield, personally leading their forces to repel Ork invasions whenever they were led by a particularly powerful Warboss.
He remembered the words his father had told him the last time he returned from battle.
"As royals, it is our duty not only to be among the first to respond to dangers that threaten our home, but also, if need be, to answer the threat of those that threaten our brethren."
"As Wrynns, we do not fear the coming storms, my son. Instead, we face them with courage and defiance!"
As Wrynns—and not only them, but also the nobles of Stormwind and its common people—fighting the barbaric Beastkin and the savage Orks was not only a duty but also an honour.
For were there many things more honourable than fighting to protect that which you loved?
Your kingdom.
Your children.
Your family.
Your legacy.
When such things were threatened, especially without just or reasonable cause, should you not feel anger? Should you not wish to raise your blade and strike down the threat?
No!
If anything, this was perhaps the greatest representation of the honour and pride of the people of Stormwind, from the highest nobles to the humblest commoners.
"Your Highness, do you remember how I mentioned that the Black Iron Dwarves no longer exist? It is also related to the Savage Lands, or rather, one particular Ork."
"Ever since the defeat of the Black Iron Dwarves 2,800 years ago and the banishment of their daemonic patron, Ragnaros, they never forgot their former glory. They tried many times to reclaim it, but to no avail, and so they sought new avenues through which to strengthen their forces."
Henry took out a portrait of several Orks, but these Orks did not seem like "normal" Orks. Their skin was darker, they wore black armour, and they were significantly larger and more muscular than their counterparts.
"They captured large numbers of Orks and conducted horrific experiments upon them in an attempt to create a more powerful breed of their kind, one that would serve as elite warriors loyal only to them. They succeeded in the most disastrous way possible."
Henry pointed at the portrait and placed a finger upon the depicted Orks.
"And thus, they created the Black OrKs, one of—if not the strongest—breed of Greenskins."
"Black OrKs are not only bigger, stronger, and more violent than regular Orks, but they are also far smarter and more cunning. They devote a great deal of attention to improving their combat abilities and effectiveness in war."
"They proved to be extremely effective warriors, but sadly for the Black Iron Dwarves, their cruel experiments and constant disdain left their servants filled with hatred."
"And it all culminated when the strongest of the Black OrKs led a rebellion alongside his brethren, sparking a massive civil war."
"During it, this particular Black Ork Warboss destroyed the Black Iron Kingdom and personally oversaw the slaughter of a vast majority of its population."
"That Black Ork Warboss became—and remains to this day—the most dangerous of his kind on the planet. His name is Grimgor Ironhide!"
Henry put a portrait on the table of a huge monster of an Ork wielding a large black axe as Alastor felt a chill go down his spine.
"Grimgor did not stop at destroying the Black Iron Dwarves, however. Oh no, he needed to prove to everyone that he was the strongest of his kind and he knew the best way to do that."
"So he led a massive Waaagh! across much of the continent of Arda, leaving a trail of destruction and death in his wake."
"He was only defeated and driven back to the Savage Lands when the human kingdoms allied themselves for the first time since the days of the Arathor Empire. Even then, they paid a terrible price, and many great heroes fell at the hands of Grimgor and his top commanders."
"Since then, he has periodically led assaults beyond the Savage Lands, each one devastating in its own right. However, for the past two hundred and seven years, he has not been seen."
Henry took a breath and sipped from a glass of wine.
"Well, I think that is enough for today, Your Highness. You may go now if you wish. I'm sure you would like to see His Majesty, since he is returning from his tour today."
"Thank you for the lessons, Master Henry!" Alastor respectfully thanked one of his oldest—and favourite—teachers. He got up to leave but paused.
"Uhm, teacher?"
"Hmmm? Yes, Your Highness?"
"Could it be that the reason Grimgor hasn't been seen again is because he's dead? Orks die all the time while fighting in the Savage Lands, don't they?"
Henry paused while gathering his materials and gave Alastor a grave look.
"My prince, I had the misfortune of seeing Grimgor during his last raid two hundred and seven years ago, when I was only a young man and he attacked the city I was living in. Even after all this time, I still remember the savage smile of that Light-forsaken thing."
"You are right that Orks constantly die fighting in the Savage Lands. But that thing...."
"That thing is a monster through and through. Unless it falls to the hands of a similar monster—or a true hero—I have no doubt that he is still alive somewhere deep within those cursed lands."
"I pray that no one ever has to see that abominable creature again. And if we do one day suffer the misfortune of encountering him once more, then I pray it will be for the last time, and that by some miracle someone finally cuts that damned Ork's head off."
(Author note):
Yup for those who realize especially the fantasy fans. I added Grimgor here as well.
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