Hogg departed that very night. Galen believed that if Hogg could change his fate, he might go on to accomplish even greater things—just as Galen had hoped.
The next morning, after a night of rest, the army resumed its march. Tauren hunters were dispatched to scout ahead through the canyon, ensuring the road was clear of ambushes.
The canyon stretched for about five hundred meters, a natural, gently sloping corridor. At the head of the formation, Galen was the first to emerge onto a plateau. His eyes widened as he took in the sight before him: a vast, rolling grassland that stretched out endlessly, with hazy mountain silhouettes marking the horizon.
Red Cloud Mesa—what a magnificent place!
The group pressed on, eventually reaching the site that was designated for their camp. Galen left two legions behind to oversee the surrendered quillboar, numbering in the thousands.
He, Gandalf, and the Razorfen chieftain then headed toward the tribe's stronghold—Razorfen Canyon.
Located in Mulgore's southeastern region, Razorfen Canyon was nestled deep within a mountain range and accessible only through a cave. It sprawled across nearly a quarter of Red Cloud Mesa. Surrounding the canyon, massive thorns coiled like serpents through the black soil, their spiked vines evidence of unnatural growth. Such aggressive overgrowth, even in fertile lands like Mulgore, hinted at severe corruption. What must the thorns be like in the barren, impoverished wastelands beyond?
According to Razorfen, these thorns were not natural. They were magically cultivated by quillboar shamans, using arcane-infused seeds designed to grow rapidly and poison the land, reducing it to loose, black silt.
So that your people can roll around in the mud like pigs? Galen thought, amused.
As the army neared the canyon's entrance, Galen halted the main force. He ordered the Razorfen chieftain, Razorfen, to re-enter the canyon with his three thousand warriors and formally announce to the tribe that they had submitted to the Scarlet Crusade.
Would he betray Galen? Would he try to retake the canyon and rebel? Galen hoped so. After defending Bloodhoof Village the night before, he'd earned a chance to draw five new rewards. If Razorfen tried anything, it would give Galen an excuse to crush him—and draw again.
His eyes sparkled with anticipation.
"Pigsy—no, Razorfen—take your three thousand men inside," Galen said. "Tell your people that you now serve the Scarlet Crusade. I'm taking control of Razorfen Canyon."
Razorfen's expression twisted with inner turmoil. Fifty years of tribal pride, of tradition and struggle, were about to be handed over. He felt the shame of generations of Razorfen chiefs pressing on his back.
Seeing this, Galen offered him a choice.
"Howling," he said gently, "if you're unwilling, that's fine. I'll still release you and your three thousand warriors. Whether they're riders or thorn defenders, I'll give you three days to prepare your defenses. Then I'll return with my army—and we'll do it the hard way."
His final words had a chill to them. Galen might want a reason to draw another prize and give the Rageclaw Legion more battle experience, but he had no patience for traitors.
I, Galen, don't waste time with the disloyal. I eliminate them.
Howling Razorfen turned pale, his body trembling with fear. The warriors behind him remembered the horrors of being trampled and butchered by armored knights the day before. They too looked terrified.
"We... We sincerely surrender, Master! We will never rebel!" Razorfen exclaimed, even calling Galen the title he'd heard Hogg use.
"You're not worthy of calling me 'Master' yet. Call me 'Lord,'" Galen replied.
"I don't accept just anyone. If you want to earn my trust, Razorfen, you must prove your loyalty and your worth. Today is your first test. Understood?"
"Yes, Lord!"
"Good. Go. I expect results. If you don't return by tonight, we attack in three days. The future of your tribe depends on you."
When Galen and his group first arrived at the canyon's entrance, several quillboar guards panicked and ran back inside, shouting, "Bad news! Elder Splitnail! The humans are attacking!"
The commotion threw the canyon into chaos. Everyone knew these were the same humans who had routed their 20,000-strong army just the day before—who had killed the high shaman and wiped out their elite warriors.
Inside, Elder Splitnail, an aging shaman and current leader, was nearly apoplectic with rage. He had only just calmed the frightened masses after yesterday's humiliating defeat. Now, these fool guards were undoing his efforts with their panic.
With a glare, he signaled the nearby shamans to silence them. They quickly restrained and gagged the hysterical guards.
Before Splitnail could rally his people, Razorfen returned with three thousand warriors.
"Chieftain! You're alive?" the shamans exclaimed in disbelief. Just yesterday, they'd heard he'd fallen in battle. Now, tribespeople peered into the ranks, hoping to spot loved ones they believed dead. Tears welled in their eyes as the dead came back to life.
"Elder Splitnail," Razorfen said solemnly, "I have surrendered. I've pledged the Razorfen tribe to Lord Galen of the Scarlet Crusade."
The canyon fell silent. All eyes turned to Splitnail. Razorfen and his returning warriors waited nervously for his reaction. Even the thousands who had fled yesterday seemed to silently hope the elder would agree.
But Splitnail's expression turned thunderous.
"Razorfen, you coward!" he bellowed. "You'd betray our people?"
Razorfen scanned the crowd. Many looked disheartened by Splitnail's words. That was all he needed to see.
"So, you disagree with my decision?" he asked coldly, his eyes gleaming beneath his bristled brow. "Then I have no choice."
In quillboar society, shamans traditionally held the power. But the Razorfen were warriors. Since settling in the canyon, shamans had steadily regained influence, seeking to reclaim control. Tensions between warrior and shaman factions simmered constantly.
"Ha! You'll lead us to ruin!" Splitnail sneered—only to jerk suddenly as a jagged blade stabbed him from behind.
He turned, shocked, to see one of his own apprentices. "T-Traitor!" he gasped, blood pouring from his mouth as the blade twisted. Elder Splitnail collapsed.
The crowd stood stunned.
"I will lead us into a new era," Razorfen declared. "Who agrees?"
The remaining shamans lowered their heads.
"We follow the Chieftain!" they echoed.
The Razorfen tribe had surrendered.
Outside the canyon, Galen and Gandalf watched the events unfold in real time, thanks to a magical surveillance device Gandalf had planted on Razorfen.
Heh, how could I just trust a boar chief? Galen smirked. And people say watching plays is entertaining. This is better than TV.
When the rebellion ended and Razorfen rallied the tribe under Galen's banner, Galen had seen enough. He nodded at Gandalf to end the water-screen spell.
One by one, the quillboar emerged from the canyon. Tens of thousands poured out until the plateau was full.
Razorfen stepped forward and knelt. Behind him, the entire Razorfen tribe followed suit.
"Lord, the Razorfen stand ready. We are yours to command!"
A guttural cheer rose from over forty thousand voices.
"I accept your surrender," Galen said. "As long as you remain loyal, you will not be mistreated."
He raised his staff, casting Arcane Intellect, and spoke clearly to the gathered masses.
"From today, the Razorfen tribe is a vassal of the Scarlet Crusade. We will protect you from foreign enemies. In return, you will provide warriors for our wars and ore as tribute. We will supply food in exchange."
It was a simple agreement. Galen didn't need much—just ore and fodder for future battles.
Razorfen was delighted. The cost of surrender was low, and the benefits considerable. The lives lost could be replaced in time. What mattered was survival—and now, power.
The tribe returned to the canyon. Galen instructed Razorfen to deliver ore every ten days and rebuild his riders and defenders. They might not stand against demons, but they could handle quillboar and gnolls.
With the Razorfen problem resolved, only the White Mane Gnolls remained. Galen had already planted a surveillance device on Hogger.
Soon, Razorfen would stage skirmishes with the White Mane tribe. Hogger would be given a role to play—earning victories, prestige, and perhaps even a promotion.
Lastly, Galen turned his focus to resource gathering. Logging was out—the grasslands of Mulgore couldn't afford deforestation. Instead, he deployed a Town Hall and farms for food and ore collection. The farms would support the Razorfen and the Tauren alike.
Mulgore was nearly secured. All that remained was to journey to Thunder Bluff and propose to Cairne Bloodhoof a joint fortress along the Stonetalon-Barrens border.