Orcs Unleashed

The regional conflict in the southern reaches of the continent remained a dull war of attrition.

Whether it was the deranged Medivh on the human side or the deeply calculating Gul'dan on the Orc side, both had their own agendas and would not let the situation fall apart just like that.

During this time, although many powers were watching the regional conflict, they saw nothing worthy of particular attention.

At most, they thought the Orc warriors were impressive, able to fight human heavy infantry to a standstill despite their crude weapons and equipment.

Behind this shoddy performance, large numbers of Orcs were arriving from another world every day.

The Black Morass covered a vast area.

The swamp had abundant resources, enough to support over a million Orcs as they rested and rebuilt their strength.

Once they were ready, the entire continent would be shrouded in the shadow of war!

No kingdom fighting alone could possibly withstand the Orc invasion.

After all, the Orcs had too many powerful forces hidden behind the scenes.

The Evil Demon God within Medivh, and the Fallen Black Dragon King Neltharion lurking in the shadows.

These were the backers who ensured that the Orcs could never be defeated.

Thus, all Herad could do was watch events unfold.

Whether he knew the truth or not, he had no better choice.

Besides, Stormwind City had little interest in firearms.

Their expense was only one factor.

The widespread use of firearms would severely diminish the role of warriors and knights.

That would deal a major blow to human kingdoms that revered knightly culture.

Still, Herad believed they would change their minds as the situation grew increasingly dire.

The protracted war between Stormwind City and the Orcs kept supplying people with fresh topics of conversation.

Today, the two sides fought a battle, with a few dead and a dozen or so wounded.

Tomorrow, they fought another battle, with a few dead and a dozen or so wounded.

The days passed like this, day after day, year after year.

No one knew how long this war of constant bloodletting, but few casualties in each engagement, would last.

Herad did not know the exact dates of the major events.

But by his reckoning, three years had already passed, and real change might soon come.

Finally, at the end of the third year of the Orc invasion, Khadgar, who had infiltrated Medivh's inner circle as a spy, uncovered the shocking truth that his mentor had been possessed by an Evil Demon God.

Then Khadgar rallied help and led a group of Medivh's friends and family in a surprise attack on the Karazhan Mage Tower.

They awakened Medivh's soul through the bonds of family and friendship, then hacked him to death.

The evil demon god's soul was also forced to crawl back to the Twisting Nether.

When news arrived that Medivh the Keeper had been slain, the mages of the Dalaran Magic Kingdom rejoiced.

They enthusiastically hauled away the books and treasures from the Karazhan Mage Tower.

On the surface, this looked like a covert struggle between factions of mages.

Herad, however, knew perfectly well that the balance had been broken.

Even if the Orc Grand Warlock Gul'dan had not been struck down at the same time, the true invasion would still begin.

The events that followed unfolded exactly as he had expected.

When the Orc heavy infantry in black heavy armor charged the defensive line, the human heavy infantry went pale.

Every one of those heavy hammers and wheel-sized battle-axes had been made to smash through armor!

Thicker armor, more powerful attacks-how were they supposed to stop that?

Even arcane golems and Steam Tanks sent forward to hold the line would be smashed apart by these black-armored Orc heavy infantry.

Seeing this for the first time, the Gnome rogue dropped the tools of his trade that he had been fiddling with.

Remembering the response measures Herad had instructed him to take, he packed his belongings as quickly as possible, then quietly left the battlefield.

As someone whose profession did not involve combat, he had no place on such a fierce battlefield.

Besides, delivering intelligence as quickly as possible was consistent with an intelligence operative's professional code.

Listening to the screams behind him, the Gnome rogue felt that Deadwind Pass had become even more sinister and terrifying.

His short little legs immediately began moving even faster.

Deadwind Pass had always been an ill-omened place.

Even when Medivh had first settled there, not a blade of grass grew.

Medivh's evil magic had made even the weather in Deadwind Pass gloomy.

Even at noon, when the sunlight was strongest, the place was no different from dusk after sunset.

As he hurried along with his head down, strange gusts of cold wind swept past him from time to time, as though deliberately trying to make his life difficult.

The Gnome rogue was filled with regret.

He should have bought a Mechanical Hawkstrider earlier.

Now all he could do was run for all he was worth, reach Brightwood to the west, and hire a carriage in Orchard Town to take him to Stormwind City.

Deadwind Pass was narrow from east to west, and the Gnome rogue soon ran out of the region.

Yet Brightwood to the west, which should have been bright and sunny, was just as gloomy as Deadwind Pass.

Fortunately, Orchard Town at the foot of the mountain was brightly lit, dispelling all his unease.

Filled with renewed energy, the Gnome rogue ran down the mountain as fast as he could.

"Something terrible has happened! The defensive line beyond the mountain has fallen!"

The Gnome rogue shouted as he ran into the coaching station, boarded a carriage that happened to be heading to Stormwind City, and swiftly left town.

The station workers who had seen the photographs with their own eyes soon spread the news.

Watching the town descend into chaos, the Gnome rogue shook his head helplessly.

Whether you flee or reinforce the front, you'd better move quickly now.

Who knows how long it will take them to slaughter the few thousand troops at the front?

The thought of those great hammers that could flatten him into a meat patty made the Gnome rogue break out in a cold sweat.

Hammers that big must weigh at least two hundred kilograms!

The Gnome rogue suddenly felt that warriors were freakishly strong.

Gnomes were physically weak as a race and simply could not produce capable warriors.

Their allies, however, were the Dwarves, who produced warriors in abundance.

But Dwarven weaponry was more traditional, consisting of shields paired with one-handed axes or hammers.

Even when they used two-handed hammers, they would never make one with a head as big as a bucket.

In fact, the Gnome rogue had misunderstood those bucket-sized hammers.

Those Orc heavy infantry wore black armor and had equally dark skin.

The frighteningly large, bucket-sized hammers in their hands were not made of metal at all.

The black Orcs came from the Blackrock Clan and had long lived in geologically active regions with volcanic eruptions.

Besides being skilled at forging metal equipment, they had discovered a lightweight, sturdy blackstone that could be used to make armor and weapons.

Because blackstone was lightweight, armor made from it could be built extra thick.

As for weapons, they naturally made them look as imposing as possible.

Thus, while those bucket-sized hammers looked heavy, they were not nearly as heavy as one might imagine.

Of course, a blow from one could still certainly kill someone.

The station carriage sped along with its frightened passengers, leaving the now-sunless Brightwood as quickly as possible.

After such a grave turn of events, the driver was panicking too.

Seeing the Gnome rogue come out for some air, he began discussing the war with this professional, his spirits low.

"Sir, do you think we still have any chance of holding them off?"

The sight of thousands of black Orcs charging had been utterly overwhelming!

Even through a camera lens, their terrifying momentum was palpable.

The optimistic Gnome rogue, however, was not too disheartened.

He stood up and patted the driver on the shoulder.

"Don't worry. You still have the Stormwind Brotherhood of the Horse. The knights will definitely stop those savage greenskins."

Hearing the name of the Stormwind Brotherhood of the Horse lifted the driver's spirits considerably.

The Kingdom of Azeroth was still in an era when knightly culture flourished.

The noble knights were also the most powerful fighters!

Both they and their mounts wore thick armor, and whenever they encountered enemies, they settled matters with a lance charge.

When the noble knights assembled for a charge, they became a roaring tide of steel!

They were the kingdom's strongest army, and its final trump card.