Southshore

Southshore is the largest coastal town in the Hillsbrad Foothills. As the seasons change, vast schools of fish pass through here from the upper reaches to the sea every year, and just as many migrate back from the ocean to the upper rivers to spawn.

During the fishing season, the residents of Southshore harvest a bounty from the southern Thondroril River, which connects Lake Darrowmere to the sea. Yet, there is a price for every reward; once the season ends, they must face the Murlocs that ravage the coastline due to a lack of food.

Years of small-scale skirmishes with the Murlocs have made the people of Southshore brave and hardy, but compared to the Alliance army—which gathers the elite of every human kingdom—these fishermen, tempered by battles against Murloc tribes, still pale in comparison.

The City Hall of Southshore, once a quiet place with little foot traffic, serving only as a retirement spot for a few idle minor nobles, has now become a temporary command center for the Alliance.

With the arrival of Anduin Lothar and the Order of the Silver Hand, the entire city quickly shifted into a state of combat readiness. In the days that followed, the successive arrival of troops from various kingdoms and the "reinforcements" from the High Elves only made the already tense atmosphere even more stifling.

The old wooden floorboards gave a faint, muffled creak, and a tender branch from a holly tree in the courtyard stretched toward the window, peeking in to observe the restless group of humans in the hall. Sunlight filtered through the pale blue glass windows, casting a golden glow and scattered shadows across the room. The interplay of light and shadow lent the space an air of stillness.

However, despite such a gentle environment, the atmosphere inside was far from pleasant.

A massive map was spread out near the window, covered in a dense array of red and blue markers; it was a strategic map constructed by the command center using intelligence from all sides.

"The Orcs have firmly seized control of the Wetlands. According to reports from the front lines in the Arathi Highlands, they have already spotted signs of the enemy near the fortress south of the Thandol Span."

As Lothar's lieutenant, Turalyon was the first to provide a report: "But the Orcs have not launched a rash attack. They are likely continuing to gather their forces, waiting for their main strength to arrive."

"Burning Steppes, Blackrock Mountain, Searing Gorge, Dun Morogh, Ironforge," Anduin Lothar leaned half his body over the table, his powerful fingers tracing a path on the map representing the Orcs' northward march.

"Given the climate changes and the pressure on their logistics, even if those green-skinned monsters were on a forced march every day, it would take them at least a month to reach Ironforge."

Having said this, he swept his gaze over everyone present and continued: "I have been to Ironforge once. I must say, the architectural prowess of the Dwarf craftsmen is truly a great miracle of Azeroth. Capturing that massive city built into the mountains is no easy task."

"So, we still have more time to conduct our war mobilization?"

Turalyon spoke quickly, and Alvin noticed that the young man seemed to heave a sigh of relief upon hearing this.

"If I were the Orc commander, I would choose to besiege rather than assault," the seasoned and steady Marshal shook his head. "I hope those savage Orcs spend a bit more effort there; we are truly short on time."

"The navy of Kul Tiras is ready. We will make those damned Orcs understand the terror of a champion of the seas!"

Daelin Proudmoore, who had essentially conquered all opposition among the human kingdoms at sea, spoke with immense pride. Having traversed the four oceans, he certainly had the capital to be arrogant.

"Of course, I trust that the lads of Kul Tiras are the finest naval warriors," Anduin Lothar nodded, acknowledging the Admiral.

"And there is the aid from the High Elves. Although the number of warriors brought by the Ranger General is not large, those battle-hardened rangers are at least a force to be reckoned with."

Turalyon interjected abruptly, though his eager tone caused almost everyone present to wear a knowing, half-amused expression. It was clear that the young Paladin's loss of composure when welcoming the High Elf reinforcements—and Ranger General Alleria—a few days ago was already common knowledge.

However, the Supreme Commander Lothar was clearly not concerned with such gossip. Recalling the twelve exquisite warships—far fewer than expected—and the modest number of Elven rangers, his face clearly betrayed his disappointment. "It seems Quel'Thalas still has no intention of fully intervening. We are missing a powerful ally."

Standing to the side, Alvin glanced at the somewhat distracted Turalyon and offered a word of counsel: "After all, the flames of war have not yet reached their homeland. Most would make the same choice. We should be grateful to the Holy Light that we have any unexpected reinforcements at all."

"Very well, twelve ships it is."

The Alliance Marshal did not dwell on the topic, instead turning his gaze back to the strategic map on the round table. "We cannot pin our hopes on the fantasy that the Orcs will be stalled by Ironforge. The fate of humanity must be held in our own hands."

He pointed to several small red flags scattered across the Wetlands on the map and spoke: "To ensure the smooth transport of logistical supplies, the Orcs must either secure the Thandol Span or seize a port in the Hillsbrad Foothills."

With that, he turned to his lieutenant. "Turalyon, if you were the enemy commander, would you choose to launch a frontal assault on the natural chokepoint spanning the strait, or would you challenge the navy of Kul Tiras?"

"The Orcs have demonstrated great combat prowess on land, but we have never engaged them at sea. However, according to our scouts, the large ships that raided Menethil Harbor were provided and operated by pirates from the south."

The Paladin recalled the reports he had read and replied. In closing, he did not forget to offer a small compliment to the Admiral present: "I suspect their naval combat capabilities cannot be compared to the navy of Kul Tiras."

"Latest intelligence: the North Sea Pirates, who have been lingering near the Biting Reef south of the Gilneas peninsula, recently offered their allegiance to the Alliance, but a faction of traitors chose to defect to the Orcs in the south. While the strength of those scoundrels cannot substantively alter the course of the war, their betrayal is enough to leave us at a disadvantage regarding intelligence."

Alvin paused, turned to look at Admiral Daelin, and added slowly: "You must realize, those vicious North Sea Pirates have extensive experience in engaging the navy of Kul Tiras..."