Just a basic page
The sun had risen well above Orgrimmar’s walls by the time he reached the Valley of Honor. It was busy today; the monks had a new batch of students to train. The pandaren leader Ji Firepaw was demonstrating a form of unarmed combat. Firepaw smiled at Saurfang, offering a small salute without interrupting his form. Saurfang saluted back, rapping his fist against his chest, and walked on.
The rear gates were already open to merchants and travelers from Bilgewater Harbor. A new shift of guards had just taken over duty. “Lots of sightings again,” reported an orc with a ragged scar on his hand.
“Spies,” spat a goblin with a pair of daggers cradled on his lap. “Love to get my hands on one of them.”
Saurfang left the rear gates and toured the northern cliffs, where all seemed well. He finished his inspection of the Valley of Spirits, and then, when he reached the front gates, he decided to deviate from his normal route. He left Orgrimmar and walked to the coastline. A few merchants and Horde naval ships had made dock, unloading cargo and resupplying for new journeys. There used to be more sails waiting in the shallows, but these days, after the losses against the Legion, there simply weren’t as many ships on the ocean.
Saurfang marked a dark figure creeping along the top of the battlements, following him to the ocean. “I see you,” he muttered to himself. In broad daylight, a spy would have difficulty leaving the city walls without being seen. Unsurprisingly, they deemed High Overlord Saurfang important enough to be watched at all times. It was almost time to report to the warchief. Saurfang returned through the front gates and heard what sounded like laughter from the battlements above him. He stopped. Yes, there was the booming laugh of a tauren, a sharp reply by an orc, and raucous guffaws from others.
Saurfang climbed the nearest ladder. Whoever those guards were, they had just volunteered to be today’s example.