No Laughing Matter
“You can’t spell slaughter without laughter.”
Laughing Skull Proverb
The Red Blade tribe barely weathered the inhospitable wastes of Frostfire, and were all too keen to escape its frigid, frozen tundras. They would find little solace however, in the tropical jungles and arid buttes of Gorgrond.
Yet their cunning and ferocity would be tested before they even reached the jungles — an ingenious stratagem was hatched to safely blaze a trail through the Thunder Pass and out of Frostfire Ridge. While Rrosh-tul Rimeweaver and Varog’Gor Duskstalker sneaked within the Iron Siegeworks, poisoning supplies and assassinating key personnel, Wolfking Feraleye and Thur’ruk Sharptongue would enter the realm of Magnarok in hopes of riling up the element of fire and forcing a dormant volcano to life.
This risky endeavor was no success by any conventional measure — a flow of lava nearly annihilated the Frostwolf Clan’s holdings at Wolf’s Stand, and the orcs returned burnt and wounded. Yet enough damage was struck to the Iron Siegeworks that, as the tribe rode fast through the Thunder Pass, the engineers and demolitionists of that encampment proved too distracted to resist their passage into Gorgrond.
Some frostbitten Red Blades no doubt exhaled a sigh of relief as the humid heat of Gorgrond and towering palm-trees welcomed them. But this land’s own dangers would soon become evident. Rik’clar Rendfist, their Laughing Skull guide, would take them through a dizzying, meandering course through the savage jungles, so unlike anything they had encountered upon Azeroth. Deadgrin, the sanctuary promised to them, was already over-run by toxic goren, and soon they would encounter orc-eating plants and reanimated corpses corrupted by the land’s spores and vines.
At long last, the tribe’s perilous pursuit of shelter would lead them to the coastal retreat of Broken Horn Village. In their madness, the Laughing Skull Clan had made their homes under the very nose of Warlord Blackhand and his Blackrock Foundry — many tribesorcs doubted the wisdom of this location, but nonetheless appreciated the refuge given to them by these eccentric survivors.
The Red Blades would repay this kindness by aiding the Laughing Skull Clan where it was required. From holding the Tournament of the Blades as a welcoming gift to their bloodthirsty hosts, to running around the jungle gathering strange items and various skulls as part of Broken Horn’s “Laughing Stock”, the tribe’s talents were well-employed.
They would also investigate a Kirin Tor encampment overwhelmed by the savage local fauna deep within the Everbloom, though a leak of magical energies created multiple mirror spatial pocket-dimensions which shattered the tribe into various fragmented parties. Finally, the tribe would begin to pry within the Blackrock’s heavily-fortified holdings — despite some low-key sabotage, it was clear that the might of the Foundry was simply too great for the Red Blades to overcome.
Yet the tribe have learnt one thing from the Laughing Skulls — to merely survive is its own victory. Though they may suffer defeats and setbacks in the face of a larger and more menacing enemy, the Red Blades are still united, unbowed, unbent and unbroken. The tribe’s numbers grow by the week, with a fresh crop of Nag’Ogar, Gosh’kar and Gul’thauk forging their destinies as Red Blades — and the Horde Gathering, long a casualty of acrimonious argument and petty grudges, has been remobilised with a sense of urgency befitting the enemies facing all peoples of the Horde.
Though their masked chuckling allies may disagree, the Red Blades know the battles to come are no laughing matter.
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