Durotar

Lars stiffened and stirred as consciousness returned to him. Groaning, the knight pushed his face out of the dirt, while a single string of drool dripped down from his dry lips. A violent cough struck him, and as Lars retched, clouds of fine, red dust spilled out of his lungs. Spitting out the rest of the filth, Lars looked around with bleary eyes. He was no longer within the lightless abyss of Elune's world, rather he now found himself atop a wide plateau. The soil had been baked red by the burning sun that was now scorching the young knight's exposed back. Prickly cacti stood around him, their bristles glistening threateningly, while a pair of wild boars stood, absorbed in their drinking from a small oasis. 

Slowly, Lars struggled to his feet and plodded over to the watery pool. His skin was coated in the same red dust as the rest of this world, and flakes of the stuff were drifting down from his hair. The two boars took a look at the knight, but ignored him, deciding he was no threat to them. With a deep breath, Lars plunged his head into the life-saving waters and drank deeply, relishing in the sensation of the cool liquid washing over his skin, cleansing him of thirst and dirt. Bringing his head out, Lars took several more big gulps and splashed the water over his body, relieving him somewhat from the intense heat. Then, he sat down heavily and looked around. 

The goddess had told him to find the World Spirit and stop it from being corrupted by the Void Walkers. But only now, sitting here amidst a strange and alien land, did Lars realise how impossible this sounded. He had no idea where he was, where the World Spirit was, or what a Void Walker even looked like. If he was going to succeed, he'd need help from someone who actually knew what Elune had been talking about. The only problem was that there didn't seem to anyone around for mile, contemplated Lars as he looked about, peering off into the distance.

Suddenly, the boars next to Lars jumped, and began to squeal fearfully. A fearsome roar came from behind the knight; it's sound reverberated across the desert landscape. Standing atop a hilltop was a great, olive-green beast. Humanoid in stance, but equally boarish in nature. The beast's body was knotted with tight, green muscle and two, large yellow tusks poked up out of it's lower jaw. A dark, tangled beard hung down from it's chin and it's eyes seemed to blaze with a terrible amber light. A large fur cloak hung around it's shoulders, leaving it's chest open to the world. Below, it only wore a set of large, leather breeches, fitted with spiked bracers. However, what drew Lars's attention the most was the large, jagged war-axe that the beast grasped in one of it's meaty hands and was now swinging around it's head. Something told Lars that this wasn't the sort of person who'd be helping him any time soon. 

Scrambling back to his feet, Lars began to stumble away. He had no weapons and no clothes, leaving defence and aggression impossible. Running was the only option he had. Behind him, Lars could hear the sound of thundering footsteps as the giant beast sailed down towards the oasis, roaring all the while. In the distance, Lars could see a large canyon, perhaps he could loss the creature in that labyrinth of rock. It was his only hope, and one that was fading fast; with every step he took, the pursuing monster seemed to gain ground. 

Without warning, Lars felt something coiled around his feet, bringing him to a violent stop. Yelling, Lars proceeded to tumbling down into the dirt, gasping and coughing as he did so. Landing hard, the wind left the struggling knight. A weighted net sat wrapped tightly around his legs, bounding them together. Then, the sun was blocked out by the hulking form of the beast. Groggily,  Lars looked up at the creature. It's nose was flat and it's shoulder's impossibly broad, it must have stood over six and a half feet. Oddly, the creature reminded Lars of the Ogres back on his home world, except they were bigger and seemed less, well, civilised. 

A crackling laugh came from the creature's mouth. 'Petty human, think you could outrun an Orc!,' it cackled in a language that seemed similar to broken Kingdom tongue. The Orc then set about tying Lars's legs and wrists together. Then, it hosted the rope over its shoulders and began to drag the squirming Lars away.

The young knight could do nothing against his bonds and instead decided to save his depleted strength. For over an hour, Lars moaned in pain as he was dragged roughly across the desert landscape. By the time they came to a stop, his skin was red and blistered. 

Two more Orc's then appeared. They took one look at Lars with those beady eyes and then turned to their compatriot. They spoke in a language that Lars couldn't understand. To him, it seemed to be nothing but grunts and a few harsh words. A wave of nausea then overcame the knight and Lars found himself blacking out of for a moment. When he came to, he found himself suspended by his arms and legs, which in turn were tied to a large branch that was being borne by two massive Orcs. The third Orc walked alongside them, his eyes fixed suspiciously on Lars. Any attempts at speaking from Lars were met with a sharp slap and a growl of 'shut it'.

Lars had no choice but to wait and see where these Orcs were taking him, but Lars already knew that he wasn't going to like it.

~
1. The Orcs take the captured Lars to the city of Orgrimmar
2. The Orcs take the captured Lars to Sen'jin Village
3. Lars manages to free himself later that night and flees across the border to Azshara

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