"Fandral Staghelm, Fandral Staghelm?"
Tyrande immediately dismissed it in her mind.
Although Fandral Staghelm and Fandral Staghelm are on Tyrande's side, Tyrande knows him very well. This guy is a complete old fox, honed to perfection over ten thousand years. Who can outwit him?
During Malfurion's Fandral Staghelm, Fandral Staghelm managed Druid affairs, precisely because of his cunning and shrewdness, which enabled him to handle political matters efficiently.
If Fandral Staghelm Fandral Staghelm were to lead the Night Elf army into the Rag City, regardless of victory or defeat, he would guarantee to bring the army back intact, without losing a single arrow.
This guy always manages to find excuses to avoid fighting, instead cheering and encouraging everyone from the rear. And his name is always on the list of heroes. If they happen to win, he gets more spoils than anyone else.
Tyrande had a headache. Fandral Staghelm and Fandral Staghelm were too cunning. Their passive fighting might fool their allies, but it wouldn't fool the great Elune. It would definitely incur Moon Goddess displeasure.
Tyrande looked at Valstann Fandral Staghelm with concern and said with a smile, "The Troggs are nothing to worry about. We have magic taught by the Emissary. This is just a simple local war. We should give the younger generation a chance to train and grow."
In fact, none of the Night Elf generals present took the insignificant Troggs seriously. Shandris Feathermoon and Maiev Shadowsong opposed Tyrande simply because they were dissatisfied with the alliance with the Orcs.
Fandral Staghelm Fandral Staghelm hesitated for a moment, then thought Tyrande made sense. Seeing that none of the other generals objected, they nodded in agreement, thinking it would be a good opportunity for their beloved son to gain experience.
Valstann Fandral Staghelm's eyes lit up, and he agreed without hesitation. Participating in the Battle of Rag City meant he would fight alongside the Orcs, and Valstann looked forward to meeting Thrall, the Savior.
The Night Elf race's war preparations proceeded very quickly. After all, the members of this race were all Warriors, requiring no mobilization or training. They brought their own weapons and armor, along with several days' worth of rations, and could solve their food problem with bows and arrows along the way.
Meanwhile, Doras, Vol'jin, and Garrosh are heading to Thunder Bluff by airship.
Throughout the journey, Garrosh couldn't understand why his giant shield tactic hadn't been adopted. But as the zeppelin prepared to land above Thunder Bluff and looked down at the entire landscape, Garrosh understood some of the reasons.
The Tauren are really poor.
Aside from the Kodo roaming the streets, there are hardly any decent houses to be seen in Thunder Bluff. Everywhere you look, there are dilapidated tents, and on the streets, you can see emaciated, pale-faced Tauren, idly picking at lice, with nothing to do.
Clad in heavy armor and wielding massive shields, Thunder Bluff these days is so desolate that you could hardly find a hundred Tauren like them.
Judging from the physique of these Tauren, they are listless and swaying, and they probably couldn't even walk if they were to carry a shield.
Garrosh had never imagined that the Tauren would decline to such a state.
Inside the luxurious chieftain's tent, Cairne Bloodhoof welcomed Queen Doras with a grand banquet.
Looking at the table laden with delicious food, and thinking of the countless Tauren outside struggling to find food, even someone as cold-hearted as Garrosh found it hard to eat.
Queen Doras, seemingly unfazed and used to such things, commanded, "Cairne Bloodhoof, the Evil Troggs are hindering the Orcs' advance. I need Thunder Bluff to send a large army to conquer Rag City."
Cairne waved his hand grandly and said in a deep voice, "By Earth Mother, the Tauren of Thunder Bluff are very willing to serve Queen Doras, and I am willing to send my entire people."
Thunder Bluff is currently suffering from famine, and countless members of the tribe are starving. Cairne is also anxious. If there could be a war, that would be the best solution, at least to solve the food problem. Bloodshed and sacrifice are nothing, as it is better than starving to death.
"I don't have enough surplus grain to feed the entire Tauren race," Doras said angrily. "At most 100,000 Tauren. I need the strongest Warriors, those who can carry weapons. I'll take care of the supplies."
Cairne Bloodhoof quickly put on a fawning expression. "Great Queen, rest assured, they are merely Troggs. With me personally leading the team, we will surely be able to massacre Rag City."
Doras intended to elevate Garrosh to the position of leader of the allied forces.
If Cairne Bloodhoof were to personally lead the Tauren into battle, after all, he is the Warchief of the Tauren, and the relatively unknown Garrosh is not qualified to compete with him; only the Savior Thrall could personally intervene.
"You're too old. Let the younger generation have the chance. I've heard you have a son who's a skilled warrior, having slaughtered countless Centaurs. He's known as the Son of the Earth. Let him lead the troops."
Cairne Bloodhoof dared not refute, and could only repeatedly agree.
Son of the Earth Lie'en Bloodhoof, is Warchief Cairne's strongest and smartest son, and the most powerful contender for the next chieftainship. Upon seeing Doras, the young Tauren hurriedly prostrated himself on the ground in respect.
Doras gave a barely perceptible nod, not even glancing at him directly.
Garrosh carefully examined the robust Tauren. It was powerful and strong, with muscles all over its body. Its horns were incredibly sharp, gleaming with a terrifying cold light. What a mighty Tauren immediately felt a sense of kinship with it.
If it weren't for racial differences, they might have become friends and comrades-in-arms.
Garrosh shook his head. Tauren were, after all, a lowly and insignificant race; how could they be compared to the noble Orcs?
The Night Elves and Tauren successively dispatched large armies, and Jaina of Theramore also responded actively, sending a force of less than three thousand men, mostly the old, weak, sick, and disabled, lacking armor and weapons, clearly just going through the motions.
With the addition of Orcs and Darkspear Trolls, a total of five armies converged near Rag City.
"What? Garrosh has become the leader of the Allied Forces?"
Upon hearing this news, Thrall was furious, his eyes practically spitting fire. "Garrosh, the filthy son of Grommash Hellscream, what right do you have to be a leader? Bring Vol'jin to me!"
The vanguard of the Tauren army has already set up camp near the Rag City, while the Night Elf race outposts have built their residences in the dense forest by the sea. Garrosh, the commander of the allied forces, has officially taken office to coordinate the armies of the five races.
Upon receiving Thrall's order, Vol'jin hurriedly returned to the Divine Turtle's back to meet Thrall.
"Vol'jin, why did Garrosh become the leader of the Alliance?" Thrall roared ferociously, "Do you want this filthy beast to humiliate me? I will tear you to pieces with my own hands!"
Vol'jin seemed terrified, but thankfully he was prepared. He quickly knelt on the ground. "Great Savior, this is not my fault. It was Elune's Emissary; she orchestrated everything."
Vol'jin shifted all the blame to the Emissary, and Thrall probably wouldn't dare to question the Emissary.
As expected, Thrall's expression tensed up. He sensed that the situation was becoming increasingly complicated. He inquired in detail about the origins of the Emissary. When he heard that Garrosh had been beaten up by the Emissary, he smiled, but his heart became even more uneasy.
"Emissary, Emissary, very well, let Garrosh test this man's strength. In this war, only we Orcs will be the ultimate victors. Tauren, Night Elves, Garrosh, Doras, they will all die."
Thrall's eyes flashed with a fierce light as he spoke menacingly.