Timeline: Unnumbered, distant timeline
Character: Biker Grom Hellscream, boss of the Warsong Gang
Two older draenei commoners sat on the chairs outside of a liquor shop on the outskirts of Telmor. To them, it was just another afternoon in a dreary backwater town. They spent their time like any other afternoon, having nothing more important to do, just gossiping about their neighbours, complaining about the politicians and the lack of money. But as they were busy with their daily rout, an ear-splitting noise began to reach them. One of them looked out into the distance and saw something they both hated – a gang of motorcycle-riding orcs, wearing leather and metal chains and shouting like madmen to the wind. In front of their column, a loud and proud leader of the gang – Grommash Hellscream. The two men quickly sat politely in their chairs, pretending not to see the commotion. When the loud noise of the orcish motorbikes passed, they looked at each other.
“Them orcs,” one of the men said, “They’re gonna make trouble, I tell ya.”
Character: Galen Trollbane, Chieftain of the Arathi Clan
Galen sat in his tent, calmly eating grapes and drinking wine from golden goblets. Although the tent was full of jewelry and luxury goods, it was clear they were not bought or produced by his people. These were spoils of war, taken from cities and traders and haphazardly thrown about the tent to present them to their leader. Although there were still stains of blood on Galen’s skin and leather jerkin, he didn’t seem concerned – he was resting after a long battle and taking in everything he managed to take from his enemy. But his enemy didn’t produce most of it either – they were dangerous savages, invaders from another world who burn and pillage everything in their path. The orcs, as they call themselves, were however unlucky to ever step on the lands of the Arathi Clan – because the humans were just as savage.
So I was on a magically grown boat, swimming away from the only way back to my reality, in the companionship of a botanus who insisted he owes me his life and must repay this debt. I understand why we had to be so quick about escaping it, but the last thing I wanted was being stuck on Draenor of the past. Of a different past, no less. The more I heard about what’s happening out there, the more I was sure this wasn’t the Draenor of my childhood. Somehow, this universe’s Shattered Hand is not a real clan, but a group of masochists and former ogre slaves. Let’s not even mention the Ogre Empire – which was long gone when I hatched, and yet here seems to still exist (albeit in a collapsing state). The fall of the Ogre Empire only happened with the rise of the Talon Kings, and Terokk. Could this mean that in this universe Terokk was never the religious and political figure he was in our reality?
As you may or may not know, I sent Riktal through my dimensional rift recently, and she returned with information on some kind of version of Draenor on the other side. The information she relayed to me did not, however, make much sense considering what I knew about the planet from my own youth. She appeared in a place called “Frostfire Ridge”, which as far as I’m aware, never existed on Draenor, but appeared to have some elements of Blade’s Edge Mountains, pulled out and stretched, with random lands put in-between to fill out the gaps. What I learned looked like someone wanted to just redesign Draenor according to his own whims, established past be damned. If that is all indeed Kairozdormu’s meddling, it’s going far beyond what I would ever expect possible of him.