Two other orc grunts were the first to go down before the original worgen resumed his assault in the confusion, clubbing Witch Doctor Jaka'jin with the pommel of his blade before gouging an eye with his claw and thrusting the blade itself into the troll's gut. The Darkspear crumbled to the ground, likely having died from the shock of having a blade thrusted through his heart.
When some order finally came to the chaos, it became obvious to Torgal that he and the Sergeant were the only ones left standing. All the others were either felled by the swordsman or his allies.
Oh, how the roles had reversed as they converged like a pack around Korgan and Torgal, but their eyes hinted there was much more to them then that; they were men working in unision for a common goal.
"Grunt! The Kodo! GET TO THE KODO! It's the only way!" Korgan's desperation was so apparently clear in spite of his baleful red eyes.
Torgal realized he was right, though. Using the supporting rampage of the sergeant, he hobbled toward Rempkaha, the beast of burden who had hauled their supplies all around the forest.
With a quick slap, the kodo found itself set on a mad dash away, now free from the bindings which kept it hauling the cart.
"Sergeant! Get on!" Torgal bellowed over the din or snarls and roars, the kodo bashing away any of the worgen who strayed too close with her monstrous horn and strong tail.
Korgan narrowed his eyes; there was no way he was going to let his unit be wiped out. For such to happen on his watch would be dishonorable, and dishonor was worse then death for any orc worth his life.
"I'm not going. Make for The Sepluchre, Grunt. Get yourself patched up and warn them of what has happened here. Then, await the replacements."
"Sergeant! Don't be a fool!" Torgal looked around as he continued circling Rempkaha around, both rider and beast fending off the worgen.
"LET ME DIE WITH HONOR, GRUNT! NOW GO!"
Feeling a mix of guilt and resolve, Torgal reluctantly relented from his attempts to save his superior and watched as the other worgen surrounded him. Strangely though, they formed a ring about him while only a few broke off to pursue the wounded orc and kodo.
Torgal dared not look up as he snapped Rempkaha's reins as tightly as he could, the only sounds to accompany him were that of the wind whipping past his bald head and the growling of the worgen dashing behind them upon all fours, shouting directions and taunts all the way.
The chase felt as though it lasted for hours until the paling rider and the exhausted Kodo made it to The Sepluchre, and for the next several hours, Torgal remembered nothing as his vision faded to black.
When he awoke, he found an Executor of the Undercity questioning him.
"I see." The undead woman's voice was hard and cool, as icy as her touch surely was from being bound within a grave; this assumed she still had a jaw under that mask. "So you were ambushed in the night then? Those worgen are crafty, aren't they...?"
"Hmm." Torgal grunted, looking down for a moment. His arm was heavily bandaged and in a sling, and his legs were somewhat mummified from the ankle down; apparently, he had somehow sprained both of them in the course of the night's events; how he had been able to stand was likely through a sheer will to survive.
"I'm afraid however, Grunt Legbreaker, we've no use for an orc with... ehem, broken legs, pardon the pun." Her tone was dry, almost too polite despite her flat expression; not that Torgal was expecting a welcoming party; she was not only an officer of the Deathguard, but it was well-known the forsaken and their leader had little love for his kind.
"Your ship home arrives tomorrow."
Torgal was simply crushed; any chance that he had at earning honor was gone; he was to be discharged and sent home with a humiliating injury to bare for it, with no tales of glory and battle.
But worst of all, he was starting to realize something:
Everyone was dead because of him. It occurred to Torgal that Kuzzix had likely figured out that he was gone, and had stood to look - and that must have been when the worgen had doused the fire.
They'd been watching and waiting the whole time.
And now, all he had left was Sergeant Korgan's insignia recovered by the Dark Rangers this morning from his body.
Torgal clenched it; at least Korgan had died a hero, even for a fool like him.
It still did not ease his guilt, however; they were all dead because he couldn't obey orders.
All because of one simple decision.