King Saurfang Meets Regar

Theramore, marketplace.

Saurfang walked through the streets, observing the Night Elves' procurement of supplies. This was an activity he carried out without fail every day. He could no longer fight for the Orcs on the front lines, so he could only provide them with intelligence from the rear.

Jaina had already informed him that the Night Elves had agreed to peace talks, but General Shandris would be the one coming, and matters at the front still needed to be handed over. It would take a few more days.

"Make way, make way! Careful, the wagon's coming!" Amid shouts in the Common Tongue, a wagon loaded with heavy goods slowly rolled over.

Saurfang saw two Elves sitting atop the wagon guarding the cargo and knew that this was another Night Elf procurement wagon. Looking at the bowed carriage bed, he guessed it was another load of ironware, or perhaps weapons and armor.

He silently shook his head. The Elves' wealth far exceeded that of the Orcs. They did not haggle over prices; as long as goods were in stock, they paid immediately, sweeping up every piece of military equipment in Theramore's markets.

Time was on their side. Sometimes, the Old Orc wondered whether peace negotiations had any meaning at all. While the Elves armed more and more troops through Theramore, the Orcs were still logging and hunting in Ashenvale's mountains and forests, cheering merely because they could eat their fill for one meal. How could the Horde, or the Orcs, possibly defeat Elves armed to the teeth in future battles? He had seen with his own eyes that they had even bought the rifles made by Dwarves. They had even directly opened their purses and hired away Dwarven craftsmen.

Now, the Elves were trying, accepting, and applying every new kind of