The infernal smell of sulfur and brimstone stang in the air in that dark and cursed ridge, cracks lithered all over the place and glew with a sickly green color. Grommash Hellscream, Chieftain of the Warsong Clan strode forward with his axe, Gorehowl in hand. His wild black hair with an exception for a long ponytail was hanging loose on his bare shoulders, a single pauldron strapped to a single thick bandolier across his torso diagonally to his girdle. The bare chest was covered with ritualistic tattoos where upon his lower jaw, was tattooed solid black. The sickly green skin and the uneeringly glowing crimson eyes, the ring through his nose and the rings pierced by the edges of his pointy ears gave him a nightmarish appearance.

Accompanying him was his Warchief, Thrall. The son of Durotan was younger than him and his blue eyes were in contrast with his green skin as he was clad in the doomplate armor once worn by the old warchief Orgrim. He was armed with the legendary Doomhammer along his hair was let loose aswell. They were both striding forth carefully in the canyon, both there for a single purpose.

Then it came, an omnious presence and coarse and booming voice which in all account would send fear into the spines of mortals. The owner was laughing coarsely like stone scraping the surface of more stone. "So predictable." the owner said with another laugh as the two orcs looked around to locate the demon "I knew you would come."

"And I see you brought the mighty Hellscream." said the unsettling voice which echoed across the area as they heard the rumbling of earth and the slithering sound of a gigantic tail. Then they heard the voice again, behind them!"His blood is mine to command!"

Grommash Hellscream turned around with Gorehowl in hand as he came face to face with a being which shared a resemblance to Genesaurs, a race of colossal size back on Draenor which were revered as demigods by the lesser primal races, the Botani. This being had four legs by his lower body but that's where the resemblance ended. He had a tail, slithering and thick along with wings upon his torso and two arms holding a gigantic polearm. Two horns seemed to have growned out from his jawlines shaped like sickles. But the most menacing was the scent of brimstone and the fire burning across from the top of his head and along his spinal cord. "As is your whole misbegotten race!" rumbled the pit lord with a crackling laughter as he thrust the rear end of his gigantic polearm into the ground.

Thrall raised his hammer as he let out a fierce roar, swung doomhammer over his head and into the ground as he made his plea to the elements heard. Imbued the hammer with the power of the world itself as he hurled it towards the gigantic demon. There was a bright light and a shockwave which had the two avert their eyes until they looked back and saw the demon unharmed. "A worthy effort but futile!" Mannaroth the Destructor bellowed as he charged and swung his gigantic polearm down to the ground which had the very earth heave in a way which sweeped the young warchief aside to the canyon wall. Hellscream himself staggered and lost the grip of his weapon as the demonic leviathan set his eyes upon him and laughed.

"The boy believed you could be saved." he bellowed with a taunt as the Warsong Warlord grasped around the neck of Gorehowl, looking up with his crimson eyes at the demon "But the didn't know what burns in your soul. Within your heart, you know that we are the same." Grommash panted as he looked down, was it true. He remembered to his early days when he lead aggressive raids into Ogre territory. How his mate had been killed and how he was lead into a trap and taken capture, strapped to a tree where the ogres let him starve to break his spirit in the blunt and harsh heat of Draenor's sun. His body had withered and became emicated but his will never wavered. His will was unbreakable then and despite his so called weakened state, he managed to kill the ogre lord who had taunted him for so long. He was the Warlord with the Iron Will. He looked up, rage in his eyes as he remember who he was as he let out a horrific, earsplitting shriek of a battle cry as he rose and charged into battle.

The Pit lord was momentarily starteld but swung the polearm in order to block the approach as the Warsong Chieftain leaped and cleaved through the attack with a mighty swing, using every ounce of energy and muscle behind it.

Gorehowl pierced through the armor and struck deeply into the chest. Mannaroth roared out in pain as his entire being started to glow with infernal fire. The pit lord was dying and what came next could've been fatal as he burned more and more as the Chieftain staggered backwards. He couldn't move as suddenly, flames erupted towards him and everything went dark.

…

Maxwell Trevelyan was groaning as he woke up, squinting his eyes as he gazed around and quickly deduced that he was inside of a cabin which through its sheer simplicity is a welcomed sight for the nobleman. Upon seeing him, she dropped whatever she carried and gasped. Staring at him like if he was something spectacular. "I didn't know you where awake, I swear!"

Maxwell smiled, "Don't worry about it. I only-" but was interrupted in the middle of his response as the she-elf suddenly got down on her knees and bowed before him. "I beg your forgivess and blessing. I am but a humble servant." she pleaded as Trevelyan rose to a sitting position on the bedside. "You're back in Haven, my lord."

"They said you saved us. The breach stopped growing, just like the mark on your hand." He had almost forgotten about that but when he was looking down at the green glowing mark on his left hand which was slightly crackling with energy he realised that he wanted to do nothing more than forget.

"It's all anyone has talked about the last three days." she hastily explained as he proceeded to rubble his tempels. He was the youngest child of House Trevelyan of Ostwick and raised to become a devout follower of the Andrastian faith which was something he was a bit reluctant about, he recalled having travelled to the Conclave at the Temple of Sacred Ashes to attend the negotiation between the mage rebellion and the templar order with her holiness the divine as mediator.

After that it's a blank sheet like a huge lapse in his memory. He woke up as a prisoner and being suspected of having killed the divine and destroyed the temple through some dark magic. He wasn't even a mage! He remember being interrogated by the right and left hand of the divine; Lady Cassandra and Leliana. Afterwards he was let out and offered a choice to help sealing the breach in the sky where he under escort of the Seeker met Varric Thedas and that elf apostate Solas who had grasped his hand and managed to seal a rift.

It was also the first time he had fought demons. He relied on his sword and shield, a most terrifying experience for anyone to endure! He had managed to seal the rifts along the way. Wait, didn't she say that the breach stopped growing? Trevelyan let out a sigh of relief, "Then the danger is over."

"The breach is still in the sky, but that's what they say." she said as she quit growling and crawled back up to her feet, hastily staggering back out through the door. "I'm certain Lady Cassandra would want to know you've wakened. She said, at once."

"And where is she?" Trevelyan inquired as he rose to his feet as the Elf answered "In the chantry, with the Lord Chancellor. At once. She said!" before promptly exiting in what he saw as fright which in he honestly found unsettling. Also, Lady Cassandra was meeting with the Lord Chancellor, that clerk who thought he was responsible for all of this? He shook his head as he could tell that this could only get worse. He didn't know what he expected when he exited a cabin but certainly not a crowd!

A parade of soldiers facing one another with a path in between. Behind the soldiers where the commonfolk who murmured and whispered among themselves as he made his way to the Chantry. "That's him, the Herald of Andraste." which had Trevelyan to perk a brow. By the Maker, did they believe him to be something holy? He was sure to get his answers as he approached chantry where the chantry clerics stood outside dressed in their gowns. One of the sisters spoke to one another. "Chancellor Roderick says that the Chantry wants nothing to do with us." where upon another responded "That isn't Chancellor Roderick's decision to make, sister."

He shook his head as he entered the hallowed grounds of the Chantry as he murmured a prayer to Andraste to give him strength because he found the situation more absurb for every passing moment. He heard voice behind the door of the far end. One of them belonging to the Seeker while the other the Lord Chancellor. Maxwell took a deep breath before he entered the chambers which halted the heated discussion. By each side of the doorway stood two templar in their polished and maintained armor, standing firmly at attention while the Lord Chancellor Roderick, a middle-aged man in the gowns of the chantry stood upright in a valiant attempt to assume authority and was the first to speak to him with a finger raised accusingly. "Chain him. I want him prepared for travel to the capital for trial."

"Disregard that, and leave us." commanded Lady Cassandra Pentagast who was a woman with a short cut hair with a light scar on her cheek, clad in light armor above the indigo dyed clothes underneath. Her chestplate was decorated with the andrastian symbol. Her command had the two templars incline their heads and brought their fists across their chests before departing the room.

"You walk a dangerous line, seeker." the Lord Chancellor scowled back at the younger but more intimidating woman whom turned her head, scolding him more scrutinizing than the glorified clerk ever could as she responded with her nevarren accent. "The breach is stable. But is still a threat. I will not ignore it."

Maxwell mustered his courage as he proceeded to speak with his own accent. "So I'm still a suspect, even after what we just did." which had the Lord chancellor almost hiss back at him with obvious contempt. "You absolutey are."

"No, he is not." Pentagast commented as her scowling grew more intense at the Lord Chancellor. The other woman, Leliana recognizable in her own lighter garments and a hood pulled up to conceal her features from a side-way glance but when seeing her up-front, her beauty was undeniable and she spoke with what was recognized as an orlesian accent "Someone was behind the explosion at the conclave. Someone most holy did not expect. Perhaps they died with the others – or have allies who yet live." She spoke as her cold predatory gaze was directed towards the Lord Chancellor.

"I am a suspect?" Roderick retorted with disbelief. Leliana didn't seem to pause to let him sweat on the hinted accusation."You, and many others." which had the man scoff at the notion as he made his comment known. "But not the prisoner."

"I heard the voices in the temple. The Divine called to him for help." Cassandra further argued which had the chancellor's face flush with frustration. "So his survival, that thing on his hand – all a coincidence?"

Though his question was sound the seeker was quite to dispute it with her own words. "Providence. The Maker sent him to us in our darkest hour." which had his brows perked as Maxwell proceeded to protest. "With all due respect, I'm not the chosen one."

Cassandra just narrowed her delicate brows as she responded promptly. "No matter what you are, or what you believe. You are exactly what we needed when we needed it." she turned around and proceeded to wak to a table as Leliana approached the long table as she continued the debate. "The Breach remains, and your mark is still our only hope to close it."

"This is not for you to decide." Roderick protested, his face now so red as he looks like he's about to burst when Cassandra suddenly returns with what looks like a thick tome which she dropped with a big thunk to the table. The tome was thick as a brick, filled with pages as the frames of the book had metal to reinforce the structure but upon the cover was the andrastian sun with an eye as its center.

"You know what this is, Chancellor. A writ from the divine, granting us the authority to act." Cassandra bellowed forward as she pointed her finger to the tome as she saw the blood drain from the man's face while she continued to speak vigorsly which combined with her nevarren accent made every fiber of his being stand alert "As of this moment, I declare the Inquisition reborn."

Roderick was walking backwards, his face blank as a clean sheet as Cassandra approached him with accusional finger repeatedly lashed at him. "We will close the breach, we will find those responsible, and we will restore order. With or without your approval." She bellowed as Roderick's eyes shifted before he hastily left the chambers without any further comments.

Leliana approached the tome as she spoke with a soft tone which had a beautiful melody with her faint orlesian accent. "This is the Divine's directive: rebuild the inquisition of old. Find those who will stand against the chaos." She looked up at Maxwell as she spoke with a hint of the dire situation at hand "We aren't ready. We have no leader. No numbers, and now no chantry support."

"But we have no choice: we must act now. With you at our side." Cassandra added as to make their point clear, they weren't condemning him. They wanted his assistance, to have him of all people in their inquisition. Maxwell pondered for a moment as he proceeded to asking questions for details which they answered patinetly. Apparently the inquisition of old preceeded the chantry as people who banded together to resore order in a wolrd gone mad. After they laid down their banners and formed the Templar Order which according to Cassandra had lost their way.

He couldn't help but agree with Cassandra's sentiment regarding the templars and the current situation was dire without question. Thedas did need those who can do what must be done under a single banner once more.

"If you're truly trying to restore order..." he spoke in consent to join the Inquisition as the both women nodded in approval of his decision. "That is the plan." Lelianna verbally responded without as much as a smile while Cassandra took a step forward. "Help us fix this before it's too late." The Seeker said with the same vigor but more friendly than previously as she extended her hand. He knew the custom as he took as step forward and grasp it, shaking in agreement. He somehow knew in his heart that nothing will ever be the same again.

…

Voices, he heard so many voices crying out in pain. Human voices then another more comprehendable. "Wake up, Son of Golmash." With those words in his head, he snapped his eyes upon. No one had called him son of golmash for a very long time and those who had called him such was long since dead.

He looked around as he held his axe, Gorehowl in a close grip as he laid on his back in some forest but not the woodlands of Ashenvale. Hellscream frowned as the forest reminded him of the one back in the Eastern Kingdoms but that was at the other side of the world. He pushed himself up as he took a closer look around, was he dead? No, the ancestors would've come and greeted him for his honourable death in combat. His frown deepened as he started to walk, the forests in its entirity was foreign to him and with the absence of his fellow orcs, it was easy to conclude that he was somewhere far away. He wondered what happened to Mannaroth, Thrall and the Horde but he didn't have time to dwell in such thoughts for long.

The legendary warlord froze up as he heard something beyond the ridge, was it combat he heard? A grin started to form on his face as his grip on his axe tightened as he approached and was in for a surprise. What he saw humans, blasted pigskins which had imprisoned his kin in camps fighting one another!

One group were lightly clothed with staves in their hands, formulating spells which they hurled at the metalclad meatshields who charged with a ferocity which Grom had to admit was admirable. All the same they were humans and they would attack him as soon as they noticed him. He really only had one choice as he spurted forth with horrific, earsplitting shriek of a battle cry heard throughout the valley. The birds franticly battered their winds to get away, clouding the skies in sheer panic as the Warlord closed the distance and the battle was joined.

His opponents were startled, some of the younger even soiled their pants as they saw the nightmarish creature charging in and cut through their ranks like a sickle through wheat! Despite that he was staining the soil with human blood, the two groups still fought each other equally as much as they fought him.

The armored meatshields tried to surround him but he swirled around with his axe, the sheer momentum of the swing was relentless and brutally shattered their ranks. No one who stood toe to toe to him lived and none of their mages managed to contain him either as his free hand grasped the weapon of the humans and hurled it at the mage before he could cast his spell, piercing the lungs which gave the mage an agonizing death.

He had moved with brutal precision and grace of a Blademaster as he cut them all down. Grommash Hellscream was the undisputed victor as he stood undefeated stained with the human blood. He lifted the one remaining human alive by the collar. "Tell me where I am and I'll grant you a swift death." After having his answer that he was in the Hinterlands, north of a crossroad. Grommash dropped the man down, raised Gorehowl into the air and swung it down, the metal sang as it chopped off the man's head. Hellscream took a note of their different armor and armaments as they was less thick than those he was accustomed to fight against, still it didn't matter as he even after all these years was undefeated.

Author's Note: I've decided to revise this chapter a bit, correct some grammar errors along providing with an author's note. Just to clarify, there will be some AU elements with the Warcraft parts of the story which may or may not impact the story further down the road. All the same I hoped you've had an enjoyable read so far!