In Durotar, outside Orgrimmar, at the positions held by both sides.
Sparse gunfire and cannon blasts rang out from time to time. The soldiers on both sides of the civil war needed brief rests and troop rotations.
Behind the Horde Rebel Army's position, Thrall carefully read a special document. After finding no issues a moment later, he nodded.
"Then it's settled. I agree to this support agreement. After the war, the Horde will provide the Night Empire with a batch of high-quality pelts and derivative luxury goods below market price in exchange for one attritional offensive."
The Imperial diplomat who had arrived with the Crusaders smiled as he watched Thrall sign his name to the agreement, then bowed.
Compared to those crude Crusaders who only knew how to fight and kill, the elven diplomat preferred spending time with Thrall. The two sides had more in common.
Brother Blackmore had done evil all his life and been consumed by his lust for power, but the one thing he had done absolutely right was educate Thrall exceptionally well. He had given him the finest educational resources in all of Lordaeron.
Not only that, after he completed his studies, Blackmore had even thrown in a woman to warm his bed—Taresa. He had been considerate to the extreme.
Because of this, many nobles in the human world had close personal ties with Thrall. On his way to meet Thrall, the elven diplomat had seen numerous distinctive supplies stacked around the camp. The blue and silver-white markings on those crates were definitely not Horde insignias.
There were things you could not conveniently ask about, and things I could not conveniently speak of. It was enough for everyone to understand without saying it aloud.
Many great human nobles who valued personal friendships above factional opposition were