"They really are sworn enemies," Rex remarked as he read the intelligence in his hand.
He gently lifted the delicate teacup from the smoothly polished wooden table before him and took a small sip.
"The Draenei were incredibly unlucky this time. They practically walked straight into the line of fire. They have no one else to blame."
That was the first thought that had come to Rex after he received the report.
As the saying went, when your luck was bad enough, even a sip of cold water could get stuck between your teeth. That was exactly the Draenei's situation now.
The Draenei and the Orcs were ancestral enemies. The hatred between them ran far deeper than the hatred humans felt for the Orcs. Humans hated the Orcs for invading their lands, but they had ultimately emerged victorious. Their hatred was nothing compared to that of the Draenei.
The Orcs had slaughtered most of the Draenei population and nearly wiped out their entire race. Even pouring out every drop of water in the Great Sea could not wash away such bitter hatred.
Given that relationship, Thrall understood what mattered most as Warchief, even if he was a lover of peace.
Naturally, the intelligence Rex received said nothing about Thrall's efforts to secure peace.
According to Rex's reports, an Orc army had advanced on the Draenei and immediately launched an attack.
It had been a one-sided massacre. The Draenei were no match for them and had ultimately been forced to flee into the Great Sea.
Without a fleet, the Orcs had abandoned their pursuit of the Draenei, bringing the battle to an end. That was only a rough account, of course. The details were much more complicated.
The Draenei's spaceship had landed in a terrible location. Unlike in the original history,