All Elves Are Family [Daily Update Request]

The night passed without incident. Only the groans of the wounded and the crackling of burning wood echoed through Ashenvale's night wind. Thrall did not rest. Dragging his exhausted body through the camp, he surveyed the devastation and counted the horrifying casualties. The Warsong Clan had suffered nearly fifty percent losses, while the other clans had also been hit hard. The victory of the day had been built upon the corpses of countless Orc warriors—pale and heavy.

"Great Chieftain," King Saurfang said hoarsely, "we must make changes. Tyrande Whisperwind's power... is too great. Next time, we may not be able to withstand another Starfall."

Thrall silently watched the flickering campfire, then suddenly raised his head. A trace of resolve flashed in his eyes. "Gather every Shaman. Not one may be left behind. Tomorrow, they will be our main force."

"The Shamans?" Saurfang was somewhat puzzled. Shaman healing and elemental attacks had limited effect on a direct battlefield.

"I'm not sending them to charge," Thrall explained. "I want them to use the power of the elements to interfere with and suppress Tyrande! When she can no longer gather moonlight smoothly, that will be the moment we tear apart the elves' defenses!"

The next day, the rising sun brought no hope. Instead, it illuminated the wreckage and corpses strewn across the ground. The Orc army gathered once more, and Thrall threw every available unit onto the front line. Many warriors still bore injuries. Yet unlike the day before, more than a hundred Orc Shamans had gathered behind the formation. Holding totems in their hands, they chanted softly and communed with the elemental spirits.

The horn of attack sounded once more, but this charge was far more cautious.

Tyrande stood amid the ruined camp. Her face remained pale, but her gaze was firm.