Red Cloud Mesa loomed like a colossal staircase in the southern expanse of Mulgore. Unlike the modest cliffs of four to five meters in the game, Galen, observing from afar, estimated the mesa's sheer cliffs to tower at least a hundred meters high.
It was already dusk. The sun dipped low on the horizon as the afternoon faded into evening. The clouds blanketing the mesa glowed a fiery crimson, earning the region its name, Red Cloud Mesa.
Throughout the journey, Galen had taken in the sweeping vistas of southern Mulgore. With the quillboar threat quelled, the grasslands now seemed tranquil and full of life. Mountain eagles wheeled overhead, while prairie wolves and striders, startled by the approaching column, slipped into the tall grass, trembling as they hid.
In Galen's view, Red Cloud Mesa was the true jewel of Mulgore far superior to the mesas upon which Thunder Bluff was built. Rainfall was evenly distributed across the grasslands, meaning Red Cloud Mesa had ample underground water reserves. Later, the Windtotem Clan would dig many wells across the mesa to tap into that bounty.
The terrain also offered excellent natural defense. Like Thunder Bluff's pillars, the mesa was difficult to scale and easy to fortify. A single line of defense along the northern cliffs would render the position nearly impregnable—a fact the Windtotem Clan had come to realize in later years.
But what truly set Red Cloud Mesa apart was its vast size. Larger than all the Thunder Bluff mesas combined, it offered fertile land capable of supporting large-scale farming. Even in the worst-case scenario—should Mulgore fall—Red Cloud Mesa could serve as a final refuge. It had the resources to sustain a population: wild game, arable land, and rich deposits of copper, iron, and tin in the surrounding hills. The Razorfen quillboar had once escaped here and grown into a tribe of fifty thousand. Galen had no intention of letting that resource go untapped. He planned to assist the tauren with their threats in exchange for mining rights.
Why the tauren hadn't already claimed this site was likely due to cultural differences. Galen, as a human, had priorities the tauren did not share.
Their route took them southwest of Bloodhoof Village. Tauren scouts had discovered the best path up the mesa a year prior, a narrow entrance at its far western edge. Camp Narache had been built nearby specifically to guard this strategic point.
As twilight deepened, the main force arrived at the entrance. Beyond lay a narrow canyon nestled between cliffs—several hundred meters long—that would lead them directly onto Red Cloud Mesa. But marching through such a tight passage at night was risky. Galen doubted the quillboar could mount another ambush, especially after the deaths and surrender of two of their strongest warriors—Thornmantle and Sharptusk—but caution still prevailed.
"With warriors like those, you still dream of being chieftain?" Galen mused. In truth, he himself had yet to fill out all fifteen of his legions. Compared to that, the quillboar were amateurs.
Camp setup commenced, and the tauren showed their practiced efficiency. A nomadic people for over a century, they could raise tents and start cooking in a fraction of the time it took Galen's legions. After a hearty dinner, Galen summoned Hogger.
"Hogger, your mission begins now."
"Awaiting your orders, Master!"
"The Palemane Gnolls are holed up north, near a place called Palemane Rock. Tonight, you'll set off. Camp in the wild, hunt your meals, rough up your gear to look worn and ragged. You're not from around here remember that. You're a gnoll from the Eastern Kingdoms. A bunch of goblins duped you into thinking there was treasure out west, but when you got here, they tried to sell you into slavery. You escaped and now you're a wanderer."
Galen invented the cover story on the spot. It didn't need to be elaborate. The Palemane gnolls were backwater folk who'd never seen a real spy, let alone suspect one. Besides, Hogger was a real gnoll who would ever believe someone had the audacity to train a gnoll?
"Do you understand?" Galen asked, eyes narrowing. Hogger's role was crucial. If he could infiltrate the Palemane , he could bring them under control from within—fulfilling Galen's promise to Cairne without bloodshed.
"I'll complete the mission, Master!" Hogger's expression turned serious.
To him, Galen was more than a commander he was a benefactor, a savior. He'd been fed, trained, and educated by Galen's people. Now he stood nearly two meters tall, towering over his kin. Battle-scarred from endless drills and tongue-tied from language lessons, Hogger had endured it all to make his master proud.
Galen studied him closely. Once a notorious low-level terror in Elwynn Forest, Hogger had now become a true soldier, his strength in the reached level eight respectable for any small force's backbone.
He had the look, too: a towering gnoll with yellow-gray fur, stripped of his mithril armor to appear like a fugitive. Only a spiked collar and a simple leather cuirass covered him deceptively plain, but actually high-grade protective gear crafted at Galen's base. Twin one-handed axes hung at his sides.
Galen clapped him on the shoulder and slipped a scroll inside his armor—a return scroll made by Gandalf. If Hogger was mortally wounded, the scroll would instantly teleport him back for healing. Every general in Galen's command carried one.
There was a quiet moment.
Galen felt like a father watching a son leave home.
Hogger, despite his fearsome size, looked equally emotional. His shiny eyes shimmered with moisture, and his dog-like face crumpled into a reluctant pout.
"Go," Galen said softly.
Hogger turned and walked away. Just before he exited the tent, he shot a final glare at Simba, who was lounging beside Galen like a spoiled housecat.
Hogger's mission had begun.