Through uncharted lands.

[Volkan]

((After the conversation with the Chieftain and the unexpected support by Vraagar, Volkan has decided that since the Chief is not willing to send out any of tribe to scout out the lands, due lack of manpower and not wanting to break the trust of the elves, he has decided to take a journey on his own.))

Though he had travelled a far distance, Volkan felt rejuvinated for having a sense of purpose once more. It felt good to be out scouting, like he did so many years ago and noting down the lay of the land. Long had it been since he had last seen the lands of the Ghostlands. It had been during the failed campaign to conquer the north at the second war. Volkan cursed Gul'dans name once more, like he always did, when his memories came back. They had been so close, now they were allies with their former enemies, which at best was more of a convenience for both parties. How the times had changed in such a short period.  

Volkan  passed through the mountains of the eastern plauglands to the Ghostlands, avoiding any path he deemed might have been used. He was not about to be spotted charting down terrain, it would at best be an embarresment for this Chieftain, costing Volkan's head to make up for it or it would strain the relationship between the Horde and Blood Elves to a severe degree. As he finally saw the outskirts of the land he was taken back, the Scourge had taken a heavy toll on the elves land, that was much sure. The Ghostlands was pratically defenseless, easy to invade by any force. Volkan snorted, as he saw the the long trench moving north, he knew they called it the dead scar.

As far as he could tell there was nothing much of value here and he continued to march on north, towards the Eversong Woods. As he strode on, he saw the ruins of the ancient gates, those same gates that had halted the advance of the Horde back then, was now nothing but a reminder of days of yonder. Where the Horde had failed to break through it, the Scourge had succeeded. Volkan grunted, if the elves were invaded they wouldn't waste any of their troops defending this sorry land, it was flat, easy to enter and the ground scorched making it unfertile. Time passed when he finally caught sight of the border to the Everson Woods, a river divinding the Ghostlands between the elves  real homeland.

The land ahead appeared to be green and lush and Volkan paused for a moment. Deciding that his natural skin colour, despite the tattoo from Scharda, would provide better camouflage against the terrain, he removed parts of his armour until he was bare chested. Finding a nearby bush, he neatly stored the plate away, noting the location down for when he came back.  Entering the river he began to quietly swim towards the Eversong Woods.
As Volkan swam he thought of the different leaders in the tribe and grunted absent mindely in frustration. To him most of them were  either sycophants or too bloody naive to see the reality ahead. To Volkan any battlefield leader would retain friendly relationships with his allies, but also have enough sense, to be vary of them and gather any intelligence on them that be useful. 'Too many of them are bloody worried they might offend our allies' He thought to himself. 'Afraid to be seen as warmongering brutes who are only one step away from reverting to their old ways.' 'Like it bloody mattered, the only thing that mattered was the survival of the Horde by any means necassary.' Volkan was even more convinced after the incidents that had happened in the Undercity, that his actions justified the disobdience.
To Volkan, the Nag'Ogar was to bloody damn trusting of the elves even going so far to threaten other orcs to defend the elves, seemingly. 'Nothing wrong with knowing as much as you can about your allies' Volkan thought 'Cause like old saying goes, todays allies are only a stonethrow away to become tomorrows enemy.'

With that he finally crossed the river and took a deep breath, eyeing his surroundings. Birds were chirping and there was a slight breeze, but no one around. He saw a nearby tree and went up to it, grabbing the branches he began climbing to get up high. As he couldn't get any higher up, he began to overlook the land. The hills were a great spot for their archers, any army marching up to Silvermoon would be met by a swarm of arrows, the main road should be avoided. Volkan looked to the west and saw the great sea, perhaps a naval invasion would better. The shores were free and there were no hills in sight, the more he eyed the ocean the more it seemed reasonable to take the naval route. He pulled out, from the small bag he had tied to his belt, a piece of paper and a pen, drawing a crude map from the surroundings. Satisfied he decended down and began to march north, taking care to remain hidden.
Travelling north, pausing from time to time, he charted down as much as he could on the paper, hills, forrest and outskirts of what appeared to be a village went down. He knew it was impossible for him to chart the entire area down, but he had to make due. As time passed he finally saw the towers of what was once the mighty city of Silvermoon, now a city which appeared the wrecked in two. Half of it lied in utter ruin, the other half still standing proud. Crawling down to a nearby bush, he took his time and penned it all down of what he saw. It was easy to see that with catapults the gates could be broken open, unless some sort of magic kept it standing preventing the Horde charging inside.

After deciding he had seen enough, he began heading back towards south. 'Maybe all this what I have charted might never be used, maybe the alliance with the elves will last' he thought to himself, 'but I'd rather be on safe side.' He pondered whether he should tell the Chieftain, but decided against it and the best course of action was to tell, though he hated it, the Varog'Gor. She was at least not some bloody sycophant and spoke her mind openly. 'Time to get home' Volkan thought.