The young orcish warrior stood on the hill, the braids of his black hair fluttering in the wind and gazed over the frigid landscape ahead of him. He wore heavy furs to protect him against the cold, with only portions of the brown skin of his face visible. There was only snow and ice as far as he could see, and the occasional white wolf, the frostwolf, after which his clan was named. But was that all? No, there was something else, a figure in the distance, approaching quickly. Now he recognized it: a worgen of the Death Glacier tribe. The homeland of the Death Glacier was far away from Frostwolf lands. What could be so important that they would come here?, the warrior wondered. Suddenly, the creature had gone out of sight. The orc started scratching his head, when the worgen crashed into th