At the command post in Southshore, Orgrim Doomhammer stared at the map on the table with an exceedingly grim expression.
Over the past week, the Horde's warriors had been striving to push north. Unfortunately, the Alliance's defensive lines were exceptionally solid. Despite all the thought and effort Grommash, Kilrogg, and Saurfang put in, their advance remained painfully slow.
The Alliance Garrison had used the complex terrain to build one stronghold after another. Breaking through each one cost the Horde considerable troops and time... and the Alliance militia's attacks from behind made their suffering worse still.
It had to be said that the devastating losses the Red Dragon Riders had suffered at Dalaran had dealt the Horde a heavy blow...
Not merely psychologically, but strategically as well, the Horde had lost its chance to settle the outcome in a single battle. The Alliance's armies had trapped them among the hills, leaving them unable to advance or retreat and bogged down in a war of attrition.
More importantly, the Horde had lost air superiority.
"Those damned dwarves are back!" Eitrigg swung his axe viciously at the gryphons overhead, as though he wanted to hack them out of the sky...
Dozens of dwarven gryphons swept across the sky... The dwarves were clever, flying high above the range of the Horde's bows and crossbows.
Meanwhile, they began dropping explosives from high above, bombing the Horde's main camp.
Explosions rang out all around them without pause...
"Warchief, be careful! Take shelter in the air raid shelter!" Eitrigg said, somewhat nervously.
"The Alliance's craftsmen haven't made explosives that can kill me yet!" Orgrim said evenly, lowering his head to continue studying the map without the slightest hurry.
After several minutes of bombing, the dwarves exhausted their entire "stock" and flew off... leaving the Horde's camp in