In the parallel world of Draenor, setting aside the local wars breaking out across the globe, in this largest war of invasion and resistance, the scales of overall victory were steadily tipping toward the Azeroth colonial coalition.
The major fronts of the Orthodox Horde were falling one after another. Their military strongholds and fortresses were being captured in succession. Frostfire Ridge and Tanaan Jungle, the two hardest-hit regions in particular, were now on the verge of a complete collapse in Orthodox Horde control.
There was no need to say much about Tanaan Jungle. The Night Empire's expeditionary army was darting all over the jungle, firing a shot here and setting a blaze there, tormenting the Bloodmaul Clan beyond endurance. They hated those slender, sexy, long-eared elves with their delicate features so much their teeth itched.
Yet for some unknown reason, those long-eared elves had not attacked Hellfire Citadel in the heart of the region. They merely blockaded it from all sides, allowing entry but no exit. Like piglets being driven into a pen, the Bloodmaul Clan could either flee to other regions or be forced into Hellfire Citadel.
The situation in Frostfire Ridge was no better. The New Horde's elite Glory Legion was advancing triumphantly, battering the Frostwolf Clan into abandoning cities and losing territory, their defensive lines retreating day after day. Their latest frontline positions could already clearly see Draenor Citadel in the distance.
Old chieftain Durotan delivered an important speech at the Horde fortress along Frostfire Ridge's coast. "Keep fighting! Kill them! For the Horde!"
Well... in short, the Orc brothers on both sides were now truly fighting with bloodshot eyes for their respective Hordes.
The native Orcs born in the World of Azeroth especially had an extreme dislike for these old diehards born on Draenor. Since this