Drak'Tharon Keep was right in front of them, but the Red Dragonflight still hadn't appeared.
This put Garrosh in a dilemma. Garrosh had great confidence in the Orcs army's fighting strength, but unfortunately, their food supplies were running low.
Despite continuous cuts to food supplies, soldiers' rations gradually decreased from three full meals to half a vegetable dumpling, but the amount of military rations still decreased at a visible rate.
Northrend a land of ice and snow, with few plants and animals. In addition, the atrocities of the Orcs have spread throughout Northrend. Wherever the Orcs army goes, even the trees wish they could grow legs and run away.
The scorched earth policy commonly used by Orcs is useless in Northrend. In the most difficult times, Orcs soldiers can dig up the roots of large trees to eat, but even trees are rare in Northrend.
The soldiers' only belief was the Drak'Tharon Keep before them; once they captured this not-so-strong fortress, they would have plenty of food to enjoy.
"The Red Dragonflight plots to destroy Azeroth; you will pay the price sooner or later."
Garrosh was furious and sent messengers after messenger to urge them on. The Red Dragonflight found various excuses to delay, always saying that they would send troops soon, but they never showed up.
In his initial frustration, Garrosh gradually calmed down and eventually came up with a solution. The Orcs army could no longer afford to delay and had no choice but to take down Drak'Tharon Keep in one fell swoop.
Although the Orcs army was severely lacking in food, it had no effect on Garrosh, the great general. His breakfast was a snow-white, pink-skinned heifer that, upon learning of its Destiny, cried with teary eyes, its big, bright eyes looking adorable.
The meat was indeed exceptional, roasted to a perfect crisp on the outside and tender on the inside. Sprinkled with top-quality spices, each bite was bursting with flavor, leaving a lingering and unforgettable taste that brought Garrosh some comfort.
Soon, the siege engineer in charge of scouting the fortress came to report. This was a shrewd Goblin. As soon as he entered the tent, he was so tempted by the aroma of meat that he couldn't help but drool. Garrosh looked disdainful, picked up a piece of offal and threw it at him.
The Goblin technician thanked him profusely, squatting at the corner of the table, eating as he explained the situation at Drak'Tharon Keep.
Drak'Tharon Keep is built between Grizzly Hills and Zul'Drak, firmly guarding the passage into Zul'Drak. It is flanked by snow-capped peaks, making it a fortress that is easy to defend and difficult to attack.
"General, Drak'Tharon Keep is built of massive stones, with mud filling the spaces between them. Northrend is perpetually cold, and the mud has frozen to a hardness harder than iron, making the entire fortress a single, impregnable structure. The Drakkari Trolls and Furbolg are sworn enemies, and it is this fortress that protects their land."
Garrosh waved his hand impatiently, took a sip of the broth, and said:
"I don't want to hear your description of this damned fortress. I need solutions—how to take Drak'Tharon Keep. Remember, I didn't invite you here to discuss business; I need your performance."
The Goblin technician scratched his head and said:
"The Drakkari Trolls are too superstitious about the tundra. While cannons and bombs can't destroy the walls, magic can. A simple Separate Lockpicking Khadgar used to defeat Deathwing, although that was just Khadgar's boast. Deathwing's Obsidian Armor is a perfect embodiment of Goblin Engineering; no spell can destroy it."
Goblins love to boast, even more shameless than Khadgar, that charlatan. For example, Deathwing's Obsidian Armor has nothing to do with Goblins, but thankfully Goblins are more meticulous in their work.
"I brought a large group of Dalaran Mages."
Garrosh was in a good mood, swallowing a large mouthful of meat and chewing it heartily.
The Goblin spoke with absolute certainty:
"If the mages cast their spells together, it's estimated that one-third of Drak'Tharon Keep will collapse, just like the heifer on your plate, ready for us to devour."
Garrosh grinned broadly. "That's really great news."
The Goblin technician, still hungry, stared longingly at Garrosh, hoping for another piece of meat as a reward. Garrosh impatiently waved his hand, telling this eyesore to get out of there.
In front of Drak'Tharon Keep, beyond the range of arrows, a group of Dalaran Mages gathered. Behind them was a vast, dark mass of Orcs soldiers, their eyes gleaming with hunger, waiting for the fortress to collapse so they could rush in and feast. A huge granary lay before them.
Garrosh patrolled at the front of the group. The appearance of the Orcs caused panic in Drak'Tharon Keep. Garrosh clearly saw many deserters on the city wall, some of whom were even officers. They were so frightened that they ran away with their heads in their hands and fled down the city wall.
"Heh, the Drakkari Frost Trolls are indeed pathetic, fleeing at the mere mention of their name."
Garrosh raised his binoculars, observing the Troll soldiers peering out from the city walls. Just as rumored, the Drakkari Trolls were indeed poor, generally wearing tattered leather armor, and their weapons were mostly sharpened wooden clubs; only officers carried iron weapons.
A troll who looked like Troll cautiously looked out and nearly fell to the ground when he saw the mighty Orcs army. He was only able to stay upright because his personal guards supported him.
Garrosh almost burst out laughing. He recognized the Troll as Warlord Himbo, who was said to be a skilled and meritorious general, but he was surprised to find him so incompetent.
Garrosh was relieved to realize that such a backward native force could not be compared with the mighty Orcs.
Garrosh's dream is to build an Invincible Iron Horde, and with the strong financial backing of Doras, the New Warsong Legion is well-equipped.
At a command, the mages of Dalaran began chanting, their voices rising and falling. Garrosh felt a surge of annoyance; the chanting sounded particularly grating.
After chanting for a long time, I looked at Drak'Tharon Keep, which remained intact.
Garrosh's expression quickly darkened as he questioned the mages of Dalaran:
"You bunch of incompetent good-for-nothings! Why are your spells having no effect? Do you want to die?"
An Archmage, sweating profusely, said:
"General, an unknown force is interfering with our spellcasting. We haven't found the cause yet. Perhaps it's the Loa, or perhaps there's something wrong with this land. Please give us some time."
Garrosh's eyes widened, and he asked, "Tell me, how much time will it take?"
The Archmage wiped the sweat from his brow and replied nervously, "If everything goes smoothly, it will probably take about half a month."
Half a month later, Garrosh's army, having exhausted their rations, had long since died of cold and hunger.
Enraged, Garrosh roared, grabbed the Archmage, and bit off his neck.
"You useless bunch of worthless mages, what use are you to me? If you don't produce results in three days, I'll tear you all to pieces and eat you."
The mages trembled with fear, their faces pale. Among the Dalaran Mages, the Archmage Garrosh had killed was the strongest. Without this Archmage's intervention, the problem might not have been solved even in three years, let alone three.
Garrosh regretted his impulsiveness. He knew he couldn't rely on the Dalaran Mages. Raising his Gorehowl sword high, he roared:
"Warsong Clan warriors! The Drakkari Trolls are plotting to destroy Azeroth! To save this world, charge! The lowly Drakkari Trolls deserve only to be the Orcs' livestock!"
The Orcs army roared with excitement, their blood boiling, and the battle for Drak'Tharon Keep officially began.