He started toward the village, just as one of the figures stepped away from its hut and approached them. It was a
male, a young warrior, and as he ncarcd, Kargath could see he was tall and muscular. He was also staggering,
swaying on his feet, and his brown skin was pale except where angry red pustules marred it, many of them seeping a
thin red fluid that looked more like tainted tears than blood.
With a start Kargath realized he knew the youdi. It was Garrosh Hellscream. son of Grom!
"What has happened?" Garrosh demanded, lurching to a stop beside Gcyah. "Why arc you here? Is it the Horde?" A
strange look came over the youth's face. "Is it my—f A horrible wet groan rose from his throat, drowning out his
words, and then Garrosh fell to his knees, gasping as blood and bile spilled from his mouth,
pouring down his chin and chest and soaking into the grass below.
"I warned you not to exert yourself!" Gcyah snapped, steadying him with a hand on his shoulder. She did not seem
concerned about the risk of touching him. "The pox is still upon you, and you're nowhere near well enough to leave
your hut yet!" Then she glared at Kargath. a nasty smile on her face. "Do you want him to join you for battle? Arc
these the warriors you'd hoped to find?"
Kargath had recoiled when Garrosh started spitting up blood, and he continued to back away now. "No. They arc no
warriors." Disgust and despair added venom to his words. "They arc not even orcs anymore— they arc useless." Heglared at Gcyah. at Garrosh, and at the other villagers behind them. "You pathetic weaklings!" he snarled, raising his
voice as best he could. "Do the Horde a favor and die here! If you can't help defend your people, you have no right
to live!"
With that he turned on his heel and stalked off. There was nothing for it now but to take his remaining warriors and
disappear into the hills. He lacked the numbers to make a difference at the Black Temple, Too, the more he thought
about it, after being abandoned at Hcllfirc Citadel, Kargath felt that he did not owe Ner’zhul anything anyway. No.
he would take what few soldiers he had left and find some place to hole up and rebuild. Some day they would be
strong again, and then they would reclaim Hcllfirc Citadel and the rest of the land from there. And when he did
finally die, Kargath vowed, it would be on his feet. He shuddered at what lay behind him. No matter what, he would
not end up like them.
"We need to get you back to your bed," Gcyah scolded Garrosh, though more gently now.
Garrosh shook off her hands. "What did he say?" he demanded in a hoarse whisper, his throat still spasming after
tossing out so much liquid. "Was it—was it about my father? Is he—is he still alive?"
Gcyah looked away, unable to meet the hope flickering in the boy's eyes. Was Grom alive? She had no idea. Not
that it mattered. She had heard plenty about the older Hellscream over the past few years, about his savagery and his
battle frenzy and his appetite for violence. He had been the first to give himself to the Horde and to Gul'dan's foul
magic, she knew, and it had corrupted him utterly. Even if he still lived, he would surely be beyond redemption.
"He didn't say anything about your father," she told Garrosh now, gripping his arm again and refusing to be put off a
second time. "I am sure he is still alive and well, else Kargath would have mentioned it."
Garrosh nodded and let himself be led away, his energy spent. Gcyah's heart went out to him, and to all the orcs she
tended here. Would they survive the red pox? Some of them, perhaps, but not all. Yet a part of her couldn't help
feeling that at least their deaths would be cleaner than those of the orcs whose souls
had been so tainted; the mark showed through to their very skin. She shook her head and continued walking with
Garrosh, refusing to glance back to where the emerald-skinned Kargath was still marching away.
Гаррош старше Тралла лет на 5 примерно. Считайте)
з.ы. скан кривой, да, но какой есть. чтобы не ныли на "это переводчики такие"