Mordrok dictates this manifest to his sniveling and incompetent Forsaken scribe not because he is lazy or illiterate, nor because his large green fingers are too mighty to handle the delicate and cowardly writing instruments preferred by the weak and frail. Mordrok dictates because POWER comes from WORDS BEING SPOKEN and not written. Make the word power large so that they will see it and know that it is important. No, don't write that, go back and make the word large. IDIOT SCRIBE DO YOU SPEAK ORCISH I SAID STO-
Mordrok's latest tale of victory comes from the shattered wastes of Draenor, known to many as Outland. Mordrok was summoned to Netherstorm, the very EYE of the Netherstorm, called the Eye of the Storm. Horde intelligence indicated that the hated Alliance, not content with stealing our precious flags or stables here on Azeroth, sought to occupy abandoned buildings and scrap heaps in space that by rights should be annexed by the Horde. MORDROK WILL NOT LET THIS AFFRONT STAND.
As Mordrok and his elite strike team were air dropped onto the battlefield, there were many injuries. Mordrok deftly navigated the rocky debris to escape unscathed, but as he rode to the tactically essential abandoned Fel Reaver scrap pile, the screams of wounded elves and the mournful moos of broken Tauren assaulted his ears like so many Wildhammer Dwarves. Soldiering bravely on, Mordrok arrived alone at his destination.
Then in the distance Mordrok spied an approaching phalanx of Alliance mercenaries! But these were not just any Alliance, they were Alliance known to Mordrok! As Mordrok barked orders to allies that were not there, the hated KINGSHIP OF THE EAST led by the nefarious warlock Malvoiant smashed through his defenses and dared to claim the useless pile of dirt stained by the leaking and rusting Fel machine for themselves. Mordrok fought with HONOR and BRAVERY as he is known to do, but their numbers proved too great and Mordrok decided that his bravery would be better served on a different part of the battlefield.
AND SO IT WENT, Mordrok bravely defending the derelict buildings in the formless void and bravely advancing to other buildings when THE HATED KINGSHIP descended upon him like so many unkillable vultures. When at last the foul warlock Malvoiant stood alone at Mordrok's highly dangerous and likely radioactive scrap heap on the hill, Mordrok knew what he must do. He calmly walked forward, rage and hatred guiding his steps. And as the lightning crashed through the black sky, and as the screams of the dying echoed across the barren rocks, and as the Alliance brashly settled into all of the stolen buildings to plot their next acts of treachery...
Mordrok took a victory seat next to the grinning warlock. He sat, and he surveyed the land. He stewed in the boiling juices of anger and indignation and seasoned the hate-filled broth with liberal amounts of consternation and malice. And as he supped on his dinner of rage he reveled in the victory that would be his. Next time.
The second Tale of Victory can be found here: http://us.battle.net/wow/en/forum/topic/4175361004?page=1#11
The third Tale of Victory can be found here: http://us.battle.net/wow/en/forum/topic/4175361004?page=2#24
The fourth Tale of Victory can be found here: http://us.battle.net/wow/en/forum/topic/4175361004?page=2#31
The fifth Tale of Victory can be found here: