Glory ( story ) " Glory " is a short story written by Evelyn Fredericksen . It accompanies Wrathgate movie on the " " official website . The story is told from the perspective of an orc warrior who fought in the Battle of Angrathar the Wrathgate . Text . The blacksmith wiped ichor off my sword , eyed the blade , and tossed it into the pile at his feet . " Too damaged . Get another , " he grunted , pointing to the rack of weapons behind him . " Next ! " New blade in hand , I rechecked my armor . Scarred , but sound . More than enough for the coming battle . I was looking over my wolf when the order came : " Gakarah ma ! " Eagerly we soldiers formed ranks for our commander , Saurfang the Younger . Behind him stretched the towering shadow of Angrathar the Wrath Gate . He didn ' t even seem to notice . I ' d never met a braver orc . From what I ' d seen so far , he was truly his father ' s son , brown skin or not . " Some of you rode here with me from Azjol - Nerub , where we pitted our strength against the rotting spider - folk . For those of you who missed it , we smashed our way into their precious kingdom and blocked off their tunnels into the Dragonblight . " He gave us a slow and savage grin . " Arthas won ' t be getting any reinforcements from them today . " We cheered , and the wind shifted , bringing with it the stench of decay . As if the Forsaken here weren ' t bad enough . I ' d never understand why they ' d been allowed to join the Horde . They might hate the Scourge , but they were still undead . Worse , they were traitors : they ' d served the Alliance in life . If the Forsaken could change allegiance once , they could do it again . " And the Alliance has held up its end of the agreement , " Saurfang went on . " Our scouts have just confirmed that Naxxramas too has been cut off . " He raised a gauntleted hand to silence our jeers . " Yes , Naxxramas was probably the smaller task . That was why I asked to take on Azjol - Nerub . It was only right for the Horde to claim the greater challenge and the honor that comes with it . Even so , " and he chuckled , " clearly the pinkskins ' pride was stung . They must have set their feet on fire , racing to beat us here . " A guttural war cry behind him drew his attention . Drawing his axe , he turned at last to watch the battle playing out below us . His vantage point was better than mine , but I heard a loud metallic clanking and then an unearthly roar . He reacted immediately . " Rise up , sons of the Horde ! " he shouted , and turned to face us again . " Blood and glory await us ! " Whatever he ' d seen , it meant trouble for the reckless humans . We ran to our wolves and mounted up . " Lok - tar ogar ! " Saurfang cried as he led us down the hill . " For the Horde ! " we thundered back in answer . He charged deep into the fray , heading for the humans ' general . The rest of us spread out and aided the Alliance forces where necessary . They were fools to have started this fight without us . They ' d seen little of war , and for the past six years we had been at " peace " . They were soft , and they were smugly certain they could win the day . It hadn ' t occurred to them that they might lose . They didn ' t really understand loss , not as we orcs do . I jumped off my wolf and launched myself at a ghoul . Severed its head , shrugged off the clutch of its rotting hands . Another undead reached for me , this one a skeleton in rags . Then there was another , and another after that . So many . The next one spotted my approach , and her expression changed to fear and anger . One of the Forsaken . I barely managed to halt my blade . " Out of the way ! " I rasped , and thrust her aside impatiently . After that , I let the familiar surge of bloodlust overcome me . My sword became my world : I couldn ' t see anything beyond it . The elders say we were a peaceful race before we came to Azeroth . Our clans kept mostly to themselves . They hunted game , planted crops , raised families , and lived in harmony with the elements . When I was a child , I wondered what Draenor must have been like . I tried to imagine these strange orcs who had a world of their own , a freedom I ' ve never known . The few times I managed to picture such creatures , I despised them . They hadn ' t deserved their world , just as humans did not deserve Azeroth . All too soon the Horde won the day , and Angrathar was ours . Yet the biggest task still lay ahead . The brash human general taunted Arthas and drew him out of Icecrown to confront us . Behind his spiked helm , the Lich King ' s eyes blazed a chilling blue . He threatened to teach us the true meaning of fear , and as he spoke , new undead clawed their way out of the ground . But our bold leader had grown weary of fighting Arthas ' minions . " Enough talk ! Let it be finished ! " He ran forward , axe raised . The Lich King ' s glowing runeblade met Saurfang ' s axe , and the axe shattered like ice , pieces of metal flying outward . By the time Saurfang ' s back hit the ground , he was dead . Killed in one blow . Impossible . I stared in numb horror while Frostmourne devoured my commander ' s soul . Again the human general blustered : " You will pay for all the lives you ' ve stolen , traitor . " Arthas ' reply was interrupted by an explosive crash and screams . I looked around . A cloud of yellow - green mist was rising in the middle of the battlefield , some distance away . Hard to see what was happening . Malicious laughter drew my eyes upward . Silhouetted against the bright gray sky , a robed figure stood on the crags to one side of the Wrath Gate . " Did you think we had forgotten ? " he called . " Did you think we had forgiven ? " Catapults rolled into position on either side of him . " Behold now the terrible vengeance of the Forsaken ! Death to the Scourge ! And death to the living ! " They had betrayed us . Curse them and their monstrous queen . Too late , Horde and Alliance forces tried to scatter . We were packed tightly together , and the catapults were already firing their payload : barrels that exploded on impact and released more of the noxious - looking mist . Anyone close enough to the blasts died instantly . Others doubled over , choking , retching , clawing at their eyes , crying out in vain for aid . After the Third War , we could have defeated the humans once and for all . Instead , Thrall spoke of mercy . As if the humans had ever shown us mercy . I was born in their internment camps ; they were pits of filth and despair . We were meant to die there . What would the warchief know of our suffering , the famous gladiator , the human pet ? Nothing . He talked us into this . Allying with humans time and again . Bowing to their demands . Starving to death in nearly barren lands , surrounded by plenty . It was the internment camps all over again . Humans were too cowardly to exterminate us outright , but they intended to wipe us out all the same . With this deadly mist , it seemed they might finally succeed . My eyes burned , and my throat was closing up . Suddenly my legs failed me , and I found myself on my knees . This was no heroic end , no glorious destiny . I ' d known all along that humans , alive or undead , couldn ' t be trusted . I didn ' t deserve this . I could taste my own blood . Then there was only darkness and the sound of my heart as it beat its last . Where are all your words now , Warchief ?