Thorium Point

It was early morning. Haze formed from volcanic ash shrouded the land as usual. Although the Searing Gorge was as dry and sweltering as ever, seasonal winds blowing from beyond the mountains brought waves of cold to the cliffs in the gorge's northwestern corner.

Sentry Prisean Huitong lay prone in a sheltered hollow on the hillside, watching the narrow path leading down the mountain with unwavering attention.

Although it was July, the hollow he had chosen clearly could not completely block the cold air sweeping down from the glaciers. A bone-chilling gust made Huitong shudder. It left him rather nostalgic for the warmth of Shadowforge City. Truth be told, he was deeply dissatisfied with their leader Ofist's decision to build their camp atop this cliff. Even camping at the foot of the mountain would have been better than this.

He looked back at the bustling Thorium Point. This would be their base for a long time to come-at least until they retook Shadowforge City. The snow line lay roughly a hundred meters above Thorium Point. Beyond it were expanses of white snow and glaciers that never melted.

Prisean Huitong constantly worried that an avalanche would destroy all their hard work over the winter, and he believed he was not the only one with that concern.

Just then, he heard voices singing in unison from farther down the path. He turned his head and pressed his ear to the ground. It was trembling faintly, something that only happened when many people marched together.

"On guard! Someone's coming!" He leaped out of the hollow and shouted toward the camp.

The camp erupted into confusion, but the Thorium Brotherhood was no stranger to battle. The Dark Iron Dwarves abandoned their work and ran over with weapons in hand, some carrying the forging hammers they used at their anvils.

"What's happening?" Ofist asked first. He was the leader of the entire Thorium Brotherhood and had personally planned and organized its escape from Shadowforge City.

"People are coming this way. A lot of them," Prisean Huitong reported, pointing to the winding trail leading down the mountain. Although the narrow trail made transporting large loads difficult, the Brotherhood had no intention of widening it-terrain this easy to defend and hard to assault was not easy to find.

Ofist stood at the cliff's edge and gazed down. A few minutes later, a party came into view. There were Dwarves, humans, and a few Gnomes among them. Ofist even spotted an elf.

This was no army. Many wore ragged clothes and had sallow faces. They looked like refugees, or rather, fugitives.

A few of them wore armor, however. A human stepped out from among them and approached. He was tall and powerfully built, with a resolute face. His surcoat looked somewhat tattered and had several holes in it. A bow protruded over his shoulder. He raised both hands high to show that he held no weapons.

"Greetings to the Thorium Brotherhood!" the human called. He looked exhausted and haggard, but still forced himself to make his plea. "We escaped from the Great Forge. Please spare us some food and water, and somewhere to rest if possible, for the sake of Titan the Forger."

"I am Ofist, leader of the Thorium Brotherhood," Ofist replied, stepping forward. "Tell me who you are and why you've come here."

"My name is Diago Asnar. These slaves and I escaped from the Great Forge. After a brutal battle, we fled that hell."

"That does sound difficult." Ofist nodded, studying the other man's bow and hatchet with a frown. "We can allow you into the camp, but only after you disarm."

"See? I told you these Dark Iron runts were no good! I'm not putting down my weapon. It would remind me of pigs waiting for slaughter," Tharnok Frosthammer muttered from behind. He did not trust these distant relatives of his in the slightest. In fact, he had been grumbling inwardly ever since Diago decided to seek help from the Thorium Brotherhood. In this Bronzebeard Dwarf's eyes, all Dark Iron Dwarves were evil and deserved no fate other than being smashed flat or chopped into mincemeat.

"Shut up, Tharnok!" Diago ordered. He stepped forward and was the first to hand over his Catalpa Bow and hatchet. A stir ran through the crowd, but out of trust in Diago, they came forward one after another and piled their weapons together. Frosthammer looked around at everyone, sighed helplessly, and tossed his warhammer over with a loud clatter.

Several members of the Thorium Brotherhood came over and gathered the weapons together, but did not take them away, leaving them piled where they were.

The Dark Iron Dwarves exchanged glances and lowered their weapons. They were not wealthy themselves-in fact, they were facing difficulties of their own-but they were at least not so desperate that they would ignore these fugitives' plight. At Ofist's direction, some led the fugitives to the largest building in the camp, the forging shed, which could accommodate quite a few people. Some Dark Iron women prepared water jugs, porridge, and stew. The fugitives soon settled in and around the forging shed, eating the food and drinking the water the Dark Iron Dwarves brought them and sharing the blankets they supplied. Some fell asleep as soon as they spread out their blankets. Two days on the run had drained their last reserves of strength.

Diago, Masley, and Tharnok Frosthammer followed Ofist into a somewhat smaller room. Diago saw that Grand Smith Burninate and Skrang, the Thorium Brotherhood's second-in-command, were already waiting there. It appeared the Dark Iron Dwarves intended to hold a small meeting.

Although he had already been very familiar with several important members of the Thorium Brotherhood before crossing over, Diago listened to Ofist's introductions as though he were a complete stranger.

"Thank you," Diago said sincerely. "I know you're facing difficulties yourselves. Thank you very much for helping us." He paused, then took a letter from his pocket and offered it to Bornnait. "But I think I can help."

"As fellow servants of Khaz'goroth, we won't stand by and watch our Dwarven kin suffer. That is what sets us apart from the other Dark Iron Dwarves," Bornnait replied. He accepted the letter from Diago and glanced at its sealing wax, which bore the Blackhammer Family's forging-hammer emblem.

Bornnait spent about five minutes reading the letter before passing it to Ofist, who merely skimmed through it.

"Kordaz Blackhammer speaks very highly of you in his letter. There's no doubt you've earned his friendship, which means you've also earned the friendship of the entire Thorium Brotherhood," Ofist said with a broad smile. In this letter, he saw hope of escaping the Brotherhood's current predicament. "As you've seen, the Thorium Brotherhood never begrudges help to our Dwarven brothers in need, but neither will we refuse help from our friends."

"Help without reservation," Diago added. He knew what the Thorium Brotherhood needed most at present and had decided to help them with it. The selfless aid these struggling Dark Iron Dwarves had offered their Dwarven kin had deeply moved him. In them, he saw admirable qualities that were in no way inferior to those of the Bronzebeard Dwarves, qualities absent from the fallen Dark Iron Dwarves enslaved by the Firelord. Without a doubt, some noble spirit passed down from the age of the Mountain King was awakening within these members of the Thorium Brotherhood-a power radiant with humanity.

"But I noticed that you weren't originally traveling with these slaves." Ofist glanced at Tharnok Frosthammer, who looked back expressionlessly. Perhaps that was the friendliest expression the Bronzebeard Dwarf could manage. "You merely happened upon them while passing through the Great Forge. Regardless, I must admit that helping these slaves was a truly great act of kindness!"

Tharnok Frosthammer could not have agreed more with Ofist's words. The Bronzebeard Dwarf changed his opinion of the Thorium Brotherhood almost immediately. This was the first time he had so thoroughly agreed with a Dark Iron Dwarf's views.

"Exactly right," Frosthammer said, nodding repeatedly. He turned and looked earnestly at Diago and Masley. "The Frosthammer Family will always remember your kindness. If you ever have a chance to visit Kharanos, we'll do everything we can to repay you."

"I also noticed that he mentioned at the end of his letter that you wanted us to help you make a weapon. May I ask what kind?" Ofist asked with reserve after waiting for the excited Bronzebeard Dwarf to finally calm down. Dark Iron Dwarves were always confident when it came to weapon-making. In fact, most people thought the same of Dwarves: their finely crafted weapons were often so sought after in the human world that they could not be bought even if one had the money.

"A gun. I lack some necessary materials and hope you can help me," Diago replied. This rather surprised the Dwarves. Compared with materials, Dwarven craftsmanship was undoubtedly much harder to come by. This human apparently intended to make it himself. Did he think his skill could rival theirs?

"As for payment, take a look at this." Diago took a bundle from the elf beside him and handed it over. Ofist noticed that the bundle was roughly round, with large black stains seeping through it.

"A head? Whose?" Ofist asked without betraying any reaction, his experience allowing him to identify what it was.

"Take a look and you'll know," Diago said with a smile. He placed the bundle on the table and carefully opened it, revealing what lay inside. Shrunken from blood loss, the head looked somewhat distorted, but its general appearance remained intact.

"It's Matolius, that traitor!" the grand smith exclaimed in delighted surprise. He immediately recognized whose head it was.

"Give me that head. I'm going to hang it beside the tower platform and show everyone what happens to traitors!" Skrang said. He took the head from Ofist and rushed out of the room. A few minutes later, loud cheers rose outside.

"Quite a substantial gift indeed," Ofist said with satisfaction as he listened to the cheers outside the door. "Bornnait will take you to the storehouse. You can choose whatever materials you like."

But Diago soon experienced the Thorium Brotherhood's straitened circumstances firsthand. In the storehouse for rare minerals, he saw only some Dark Iron Bars and a small pile of Mithril Bars. There were fewer than ten Thorium Bars.

"You know, we withdrew from Shadowforge City in such a hurry that we brought almost no supplies," Bornnait said, somewhat embarrassed. "These ingots were all mined after we arrived here."

"It's enough. Far more than I need," Diago reassured him. After spending some time choosing, he took four or five Dark Iron Bars, two Thorium Bars, and one Mithril Bar from the storehouse. This was already nearly half the Dwarves' stock.

Note: Gnomes are not another name for Dwarves, but a separate race of Azeroth. Although they are even shorter than Dwarves, compared with the Dwarves' thick, barrel-shaped bodies, they look much more agile and slender, like humans scaled down to half size with their proportions intact.

The quirky Gnomes are one of the most extraordinary races in this world. Their active development of new technologies and creation of wondrous, ingenious engineering marvels have made every living Gnome a legend. In the thriving technological city of Gnomeregan, the Gnomes share the mineral resources of the Dun Morogh mountains with their Dwarven neighbors. Although the Dwarves of Ironforge are also proficient in technology and mechanical manufacturing, those magnificent, wondrous ideas all came from the Gnomes, including most Dwarven weapons and steam-powered vehicles.

The Gnomes helped the human allied forces during the Second War, but strangely, they refused to provide a single soldier to help those forces resist the Burning Legion's invasion. Although their designs helped defeat the Burning Legion, the Dwarves and humans were still shocked by the Gnomes' withdrawal of their Bloodlust troops and pilots...

After the war ended, the human allied forces finally discovered why the Gnomes had suddenly withdrawn: an ancient, savage threat—mutated Troggs—had emerged from underground and invaded Gnomeregan. Knowing that their allies' first priority was defeating the Burning Legion, the Gnomes had no choice but to withdraw and fight alone. Despite fighting Bloodlust to save their beloved home, Gnomeregan ultimately fell.

Nearly half the Gnomes died with the fall of Gnomeregan. The survivors escaped to the Dwarven city of Ironforge, saving their lives. When the human allied forces called upon them once more, this technologically adept race joined the human Alliance. The Gnomes devoted themselves to designing and developing new weapons to help them reclaim their ruined city.