"Haha, you little dragons! Now you've seen what old Kurdran can do!"
The mighty Wildhammer Dwarf streaked through the ranks of tens of thousands of Red Dragons atop his companion, Snowwind. With nimble movements, he dodged a barrage of dragonfire and sweeping tails, swinging his Thunder Hammer to smash one Red Dragon after another to the ground.
But just as he was laughing over his impressive victories, a chill enveloped him. Kurdran turned around and saw a Red Dragon breathing fire at him!
"Ah!"
The Dwarf nearly let out a scream, but he soon realized the flames weren't hot at all. In fact, they were icy cold, as though they could freeze his blood solid.
"How... hic... come the... Red... Red Dragons' fire isn't hot anymore... hic..." Kurdran mumbled in his sleep, rolling over with a keg in his arms. After staying up all night at the command post and having a little drink, the Wildhammer Dwarf clearly wasn't going to wake easily.
But his visitor didn't want to waste another second. A booted foot kicked the Dwarf hard in the back, sending him rolling with the keg all the way to the end of the room, where he collided violently with the stone wall.
"Shorty, get up!"
The ache in his body and a woman's sharp voice slowly roused Kurdran. He pushed the keg off himself and mumbled, still groggy, "Who's calling me... hic?"
"Kurdran?"
Seeing that the Dwarf still wasn't fully awake, the female elf ventured a guess. She couldn't help it; to her, all Wildhammer Dwarves looked practically identical. She couldn't tell them apart at all.
Once he nodded to confirm his identity, Alleria took a deep breath and said solemnly, "Kurdran, I'm asking for the Wildhammer Dwarves' help on behalf of Quel'Thalas."
A minute later, a