A Lone Rider Quells the Conflict

At the foot of Durnholde's snow-covered mountains, both armies had already drawn up their formations, weapons standing like a forest and banners clearly divided.

Brann's Mountaineer forces had dug trenches outside Ironforge and set up mortars. The Wildhammer musketeers stood ready to fire. In the mountain hollow, Gryphons spread their wings and shook their feathers, full of vigor, while the dwarf riders on their backs wore armor and gripped their warhammers tightly.

Ironforge's heavy gates stood open. Tanks were lined up before them, their cannons aimed outward. Armored infantry and ram riders stood in formation, while massive ballistae had been positioned atop the cliffs to guard against a surprise aerial attack by Gryphon riders.

The cold wind blew silently. All the dwarves looked uneasy and lost. Though those above had told them that their side stood for justice, who could say whether it truly was just? Just as they did not know whether their own relatives stood among the enemy, they did not know how this war would end.

Because of the rift between Brann and Moira, the Bronzebeard Dwarves had split in two. One half hoped to prevent the war and thus stood with Moira, for she was indeed Ironforge's first heir.

The other half, however, refused on moral grounds to submit to a father-killer and joined Brann's ranks. Thus, the Bronzebeard dwarf soldiers—the most numerous among both armies—were especially unsettled.

The Bronzebeard Dwarves were troubled by family ties, while the Dark Iron Dwarves were more pragmatic. They had no idea how this battle would end. Several centuries ago, the Dark Iron Dwarves had already suffered one defeat and endured enough hardship then; afterward, Ragnaros had turned them into slaves.

The Wildhammer Dwarves were no better off than the Dark Iron Dwarves. During the War of the Three Hammers,