- Location
- United Kingdom
amended on the missing part, thanks.
Re Gregor, it's partly a matter of what I spend time writing. We've already had 20k of stuff in this Chapter but maybe in the next chapter.
Orc Quest; or, A Critical Examination of Agency Through in Interactive Fiction (Warcraft)
- Thread starter FractiousDay
- Start date
- Fantasy
Re Gregor, it's partly a matter of what I spend time writing. We've already had 20k of stuff in this Chapter but maybe in the next chapter.
- Location
- United Kingdom
I suppose that there might be some people who are just content with the present situation, or don't feel strongly about it, but no most people would desire that he did advance because they think that will improve their life or that they'll personally benefit.
Vark's probably the most notable person, he's not overly political, he sees politics as a problem to be solved but more of an academic one, he doesn't really have a specific policy position on it etc. Similar to his speech at Sen'jin where he's saying to kill the humans. It's not that he has a particular animus aganist them, he just has concluded that that was the thing to do. Here though he would be equally content if Grok didn't become Warchief.
Also, incidentally, I'm aware it may seem that I'm pushing you in the direction of being Warchief. I'm aware of this potential danger, so welcome feedback on it. I don't want it to seem that there's no other way to proceed, but it would also be unrealistic to say it's not the most obvious path to the future for the quest. Indeed, either Grok woudl hvae to accept or decline such a duty, there's not really a way of avoiding such a choice.
One thing I should hvae done a lot earlier in teh quest would be to make you talk to other clans more. I think that would make the impact of the New Clan as a social development more significant. It must be super weird though tbh to a clan person seeing all this intermixing.The New Clan seems cool, why can't we integrate into the Hammerfell clan and have a cosmopolitan hodgepodge of traditions that stand side by side
Can ring him up on the demon portal in the mountains
It's an inevitable future when it comes to what Grok does even if he isn't exiled should his star keeps going higher. Warchief is like what orcs can generally aspire to in the hierarchy of the horde for the ultimate advancement.
If things were much better it actually could've been interesting if Grok was still in Orgimmar and then still went to the East because Thrall saw him as getting too popular and needed him out of the way so he sent him with volunteers to go do whatever.
So many options so little time unfortunately.
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The New Clan seems cool, why can't we integrate into the Hammerfell clan and have a cosmopolitan hodgepodge of traditions that stand side by side
Because ultimately the clans define themselves by their traditions, lore, and special disciplines. They're the extant power structures, and they don't want to loose their niches within the horde. That off who tried to help out Thrall was roughly equivalent to an Aburame walking around Konoha in Hyuuga-face.
- Location
- United Kingdom
presumably yes, but they'll have their own priests too
Wetlands Interlude
- Location
- United Kingdom
Wetlands Interlude
"The whole kingdom is most disrupted." the regent Gregor was saying, "There are whole communities on the move, your warriors ignore the lawful orders of human nobles, the Army and it's officers grow restless while you lead your private forces to battles, there are some orcs who know what they should do but these new ones from other lands have no idea what the rules and laws of the kingdom are. Only yesterday I had a petition from a Baron who refused demands for armour and weapons from some of the newer pale Orcs and they ransacked his armoury to make the mail armour you've pioneered!"
You didn't bother to correct him that to accuse an Orc of being a Pale Orc was a grave insult as it signified a madness and disease on Draenor, nor did you address that Vark had invented the 'double armour' and not you.
"This is your function." you replied instead. "I am bound to see to the military of Alterac, that is my function. Your duty is the administration of all other matters."
"And your actions imperil that administration." Gregor said in a pained voice. "The social structure the kingdom is breaking down!"
You did not think it was that serious. But you'd never had a particularly high opinion of Gregor anyway.
"I've only just been able to settle the old Syndicate nobles. Their good will relies on their participation in the affairs of the kingdom, they must be given opportunities to gain glory and enhance their position, it is a delicate balance-"
"They are not children." you interrupted.
"It's delicate." Gregor insisted again. "There have been large flows of capital and goods, large movements of people, the legal status of your orcs is unclear and none know how to interact them, there is no integration, there are almost two economies now between the humans and the orcs. I ask you, for example, who is the legal owner of the treasure you took from Gilneas? Is that a payment for your personal services or is that a gift from the King of Gilneas to the Kingdom of Alterac?" Gregor asked, "It is disruptive. Many of your warriors and captains seem to believe they can go about ordering others about or requisitioning supplies for military affairs."
"Of course they do." you replied. You were aware of such things, "This is how things get done. We need those supplies to ensure the security of the kingdom." you said.
The meeting concluded as well as it had proceeded, not well. Gregor was frustrated by the changes in the kingdom, while you had to create those changes to resolve matters that needed to be resolved. You could understand his problems, but you had no respect for the man. He wore a sword he'd never used, save perhaps in his youthful training and he had no conception of military affairs, relying on diplomacy and politicking to achieve his ends. Worse though, Gregor's conception of the rule of Alterac was fundamentally different from your own.
You'd been advised on this. Several of your captains had spoken that you should have moved against Gregor early on, seized the rule of Alterac or put Orcs in the posts that Gregor had filled with the former Syndicate members. You could have done that, you supposed, but there had been many matters to attend to at the time.
You considered it, idly perhaps, as you marched down the road out of Alterac. Would there be a reckoning between you and Gregor? Certainly you could take the kingdom, even if the Alteraci rallied another army, even if they made the core of it from the thousand men you'd trained, you still had thousands of Orcs in the Kingdom who could defeat any other local force.
And if you did take the kingdom, you suspected the only person who could oppose you meaningfully would be Saiden Dathrohan, and you knew he probably wouldn't care.
It went to Vark's point about your longer term intentions for Alterac and the Orcs you commanded. If you intended to only occupy the territory for a short time, there would be no point in upsetting matters further. If you intended to lead the Orcs of Alterac to some other location, it would also be pointless to establish them in position of authority over the human peasants. Comparably, if you saw yourself retaining your title as Constable of Alterac for any length of time, having more control over the human infrastructure of the kingdom could be useful, as could the integration of the orcs into the human economy, though you understood such things little in truth.
The people of Southshore were getting used to orcs, it seemed. You'd travelled past the same in for the third or fourth time now. The first two had seen the innkeeper bolting his doors and sending off a boy to summon aid, but this time it seemed he was just content to watch you suspiciously from the window.
It was a positive reflection on the growing relations between orcs and humans, you thought. Even if your affairs didn't go as planned, to plant a tree of understanding in the minds of the human kingdoms was worth it, you thought.
But as you travelled, you could see they were generally still apprehensive.
Southshore went by quickly, you didn't bother stopping there and went on past Durnholde Keep, toward the Thoradin Wall and into Stromgarde. The Arathi delayed you somewhat, you'd stolen their supplies the last time you came through half a year ago, but your people were hardy indeed and you made them march hard so that within two days you'd already cleared almost half the kingdom.
Shatterskull and his outriders hunted and scouted for you, and one day he came back with a necklace made of trolls ears, obviously coming into conflict with the remnants of the Witherbark tribe.
While you might desire greater communication between orcs and humans, if only to hear the news that might be heard of Kalimdor and your home, you also recognised that no human force would be able to do what you were doing now. You were marching with your kin, sometimes running up and down the line to encourage them, but you knew that a human force would have long since fallen in exhaustion.
You always pushed them hard. Speed and ferocity had served you well in your relatively short military career, and physical conditioning was especially important for that. Even without the Mightstone you'd always been in good condition too, but you expected the same for each warrior under your command. It was only when you saw the officers tiring, with Tagorr the Dread, your Blackrock commander, mopping sweat from his brow that you called a halt. Your warriors gratefully fell into a messy camp, but you allowed it for now. There were no enemies in this part of the world and you didn't need the same fortification as you'd normally adopt in hostile territory.
You dined on raptor and ram meat, hunted during the march and put in great larders for your provisioning by the Warsong contingent. It was that or hard biscuit and a jerky that could be chewed on the march to prevent the need for a stop for mealtimes, but once again you were glad of the hardiness of your orcish blood.
It would be better, you thought, if there were forts and granaries from which you could draw for a force on the march. One constraint in your planning had been that there was only so much food a thousand orcs could carry. That was the limit of your ability to bring really, but at least all the orcs you had were well rested and none injured, for save for a small force of veterans in your original warband, most of these orcs hadn't campaigned with you before.
You had about five hundred of your own force, the remnants of the hundred who'd come with you from Kalimdor, as well as several hundred Blackrock who'd joined up before you came to Alterac. Then there was a hundred outriders from Shatterskull's warband, as well as equal numbers of Demonsword and Blackrock orcs who'd joined you more recently. You judged it to be a strong force, and especially in the ways you intended to use it, but for all that you might wish for more training or greater numbers.
Everything you'd heard about the Wetlands though told you that large forces would be of little use there, for there were few roads and little infrastructure in the region, and you'd be fighting in mountains where a smaller and better force would be more use than a larger one with less training.
You crossed the Thandol Span at daybreak, passing over the ancient Dwarven construction from Arathi to the southern half of the Eastern Kingdoms. It was a magnificent piece of engineering, an enormous, almost farcical construction of stone where mighty Dwarven kings look down at you sternly. The Bronzebeard sentries questioned you at the gates, for just over a thousand orcs were a fearsome thing to find at your gates, but you still had the writ you'd received from their king, as well as the letter from Ironforge requesting your aid in the battles against the Dragonmaw.
Dun Modr, the fortress at the southern half of the Thandol Span, was an informative haunt. Your force was through relatively quickly, but you and several of your officers were invited to dine with the commander, Thargas Anvilmar.
There you found a friendlier face, for though the Dwarves were courteous, you suspected the settlement had been occupied by the Orcs during the Second War and Dwarves were notoriously cantankerous.
"My family descends from Modimus Anvilmar, the last High King of the Dwarven people." said Thargas, "I had heard that you'd brought battle to the enemies of the Wildhammers, so for that I thank you, for they remain kin, though cousins rather than brothers."
"I did." you replied, "Though I might have done more with greater cooperation from your kin in that regard."
You didn't know a great deal about dwarven politics. There had once been a single nation, you knew, but at some point for unclear reasons they had split into the Bronzebeards, Wildhammers and Dark Irons. The Dark Iron lived in Blackrock Mountain and had some sort of alliance with Blackhand's sons, while the Wildhammer had travelled north and were best known for taming gryphons and providing them to the rest of the Alliance.
Thargas shrugged, mopping the froth of beer from his brown whiskers as he drunk deep, "Perhaps, but you cannot expect friendship from them, given what your people did."
You sipped your own beverage but said nothing.
Thargas had a good awareness of the strategic situation in the area and briefed you well. The Green Belt, a range of the Wetlands which you'd have to pass though had only one good road and he told you to expect ambushes there. You didn't think that would happen, your numbers were too many for a dangerous force to make a credible attack.
The Dragonmaw clan seemed to be remnants of the Second War. During that conflict they had enslaved the Dragonqueen, Alexstraza and used her children to destroy the Kul Tiran fleet. Eventually Alexstraza had broken loose and incinerated half the clan, who had fled into the highlands to the east. That was where Runewatcher had intended to take his Blackrock to, which confirmed in your mind that there was still a strong alliance between the two clans. It seemed though that the Dragonmaw had returned and now occupied the fortress again, and as an old city of one of the Dwarven clans it was a formidable target.
Thargas explained that apart from their disruption due to the Red Dragonflight, the Dragonmaw clan had spent the last ten years raiding. They'd seized several dwarven camps, and fortified strong places in the mountains. While they had some husbandry and hunting, they would also seize shipments of supplies send from the south up into Lordaeron or to Menethil Harbour on the western coast, and the Dragonmaw had become well-armed and supplied due to this.
You didn't have the numbers to contest Grim Batol, and nor did you intend to. You aimed instead to take on the Dragonmaw in their eastern holdfasts. They relied not on battle but on the possibility of breaking up the supplies to Menethil Harbour, and to contest the Dragonmaw there would at least mean to improve the supply situation from Stormwind and Ironforge toward Lordaeron, which in turn you knew would alleviate some of the difficulties the Scarlet Crusade had been having in their battles.
If the situation was so poor though and the supplies Dun Modr and the north could receive so strangled, it seem strange to you that Ironforge didn't send out forces to deal with the problem. As vigorous as the Dragonmaw were, you knew Ironforge must have tens of thousands of troops. You put the question to Thargas…
"Because the Dragonmaw while injurious to us here are not a threat to Ironforge." replied the Thane. "Blackrock Mountain and both your kin and the Dark Irons there are much more of a threat. If they cross the mountains and our forces are here then the whole of Dun Morogh and the surrounding region could be set ablaze."
Of course, the Dwarves, while doughty fighters had never been known for their alacrity or mobility in battle or on campaigns.
"King Mangi is reluctant to send forces out when the Dark Irons might attack at some point. We already contest them in the Badlands and sometimes in the Burning Steppes north of Blackrock Mountain but our strength is spread widely and there are many concerns of the King, or so I judge, it's not as if he's informed me of his thoughts." concluded Thargas.
Though the Dwarves were fine fighters, it might take an army of ten thousand to displace the Orcs in Grim Batol, you suspected, and indeed if King Mangi found himself short such a force and under threat of a larger Dark Iron army then you guessed indeed he would adopt a defensive posture.
You moved on, seeking to hear more about the Dragonmaw themselves. It seemed the leadership was contested between a captain, Gorfax Angerfang, who was the most vigorous warleader in the Wetlands, and the 'true' chief, Nek'rosh, son of Nekros.
The later you'd heard of for Nekros Skullcrusher had enslaved the largest dragon in the world and that was a feat of power indeed which had made the orc famous. That he'd died to his slave had not been so remarked on, but you detected politics at work in the struggle. It was often the case that the leadership of clans was contested and in particular that clan chiefs would sometimes desire that their sons succeed them. However, while your people did not maintain hereditary forms of rule, nor were they immune to nepotism and when an unworthy or weak son took over he would often be contested by one of the senior warriors, in this case this captain, Angerfang.
You found yourself wondering about Nek'rosh though. His father's name, Nekros, was from the Old Tongue, that language only truly remembered by poets and the most wise of shaman. You knew it, as did your father for the Burning Blade had invented the written word among the Orcs after all and such things were recorded in the annals of your clan. But 'Nek'rosh', was that a corruption? Orcs forgetting their heritage? Not many actually spoke the language anymore, there were a few curses or sayings still that people knew, but if you went about speaking in the Old Tongue people would think you were strange. Most Orcs called the Dragonmaw by that name, they didn't remember that they were Nelgor-Shomash, the 'Cry of the Beasts', for it was by that name that they'd become famous on Draenor as the tamers of rylaks.
Was this conflict or struggle between Angerfang and Nek'rosh merely a reflection of tradition and modernity?
You yourself might have been contested by a similar senior warrior, if you father fell in battle. Once, yes, but no more. Your father had acknowledged you and you were confident that the Clan would accept you.
But then again, there was much of the Burning Blade that you didn't know. You still knew relatively little of what was going on over in Desolace, only that many of your clan travelled there. No doubt there was some sort of hidden fortress there and you suspected there were forbidden practices that had been going on, such as the artificial aging of children as the Demonsword did.
How would you rule them, if you father did fall? You'd need to know more about them for a start, and then perhaps to consolidate them in one place. That was the problem with big clans, the personal leadership of the chief was distributed with great unevenness, mostly in the direct location of the chief.
Was that a problem Thrall had faced? Is that why he appeared passive? Was he rather staying in Orgrimmar instead of leading forces in battle or similar because he wished to influence his people, and could only do that with his personal power?
That was the problem with Orcish authority in general, you supposed. It stemmed from the individual rather than from some artificial power such as rank or writ. Dathrohan, you knew, was able to exert his own authority in regions far away from his personal location. Some of that authority stemmed from his captains certainly, but others were by formal establishments and hierarchies.
You passed through the Wetlands quickly. It was a verdant country, and very wet as the name might suggest. You were forced to camp on the road, which you didn't much like and you pushed the warriors on faster to avoid ambushes by strange plant creatures which watched you from the bogs. It was a dark place and grumbling clouds stretched, gravid, over the sky.
You felt something in the earth too. Something of darkness, a sickness maybe. You looked to the bogs and fetid pools for an answer but saw little others than strange spindly shapes that might be trees.
Soon enough though you were up into the hills, and the Angerfang Encampment before you. Dragons had flown overhead and you were glad you'd decided not to bring Azanoth for you knew the drake would have been swiftly overcome if she'd taken to the sky.
The Dragonmaw were watching you, that much was clear. Where their red dragons might have fled, they'd been replaced by Blacks from Rend's alliance with Neferian. You might speak to Kalaran about that when you saw him. You knew Kalaran and Nyoxdra represented a faction of Black Dragons who sought security away from Rend's Horde, they would back both you and Rend as long as it suited them and both you and Rend would be grateful for their assistance, no doubt.
The Angerfang Encampment was a semi-permanent one. The walls were a rude palisade, rather poorly maintained with several spikes out of place that you could see. However, the terrain of the encampment made it difficult to assault and you could see it would be difficult to get artillery into a position to attack with Dragonmaw falling on them from the sky. There were some stone buildings behind the walls, all of Dwarven make, but you could see they'd been there for a while, if only by the pile of slag from the production of iron inside that you could sense through your connection to the Spirit of Earth.
You offered terms at first, but your emissary was returned quickly. Angerfang, who commanded the eponymous fort, claimed he didn't the authority to treat with you independently. It was a cunning reply, for it also meant he wasn't compelled to fight in Mak'gora with you if you'd declared the duel. He intentionally lowered his status to that of a mere captain, rather than your role as a chief.
The attack was brief and bloody. You formed up as well as you were able to, then marched down the narrow strip of land toward a raised causeway which would expose you from shots from the fort. You could have reduced the for to rubble if you'd summoned Myzrael, but you couldn't risk such a move when you knew there would be shaman among the ranks of the Dragonmaw. Instead you advanced with the warriors in the first rank, sheltered under their shields as they went forward.
They outnumbered your forces, especially once you broke through the first gate with the Fireblade cutting through the wood like wet leather. Yours was a force that had taken cities, they were raiders battle-hardened over a decade. Angerfang had cleared consolidated his troops, there were hundreds of warriors and your folk struggled in a shield wall as you tried to break out on the flank followed by your guards. You faced undead too, the product of a gaggle of necrolytes who'd practiced their art over years and sent forth warriors armoured in rune-scribed bones that your sword could not cut.
The fighting was hard and fast, you cut orcs down as their roared, charging toward you. The dragons strafed your formation several times and on three occasions cast down gunpowder bombs, till you ordered your own shaman to command the Spirits to carry the bombs against the Dragonmaw instead. The dragons stopped after that, landing toward the rear of the settlement, then taking off again and flying away.
That was the end of the battle. It became clear that Angerfang had retreated through a lesser gate, with his dragonriders carrying away a few of the more important magic users while he rode out with his cavalry. You slew many of the remainder of the warriors before the rest surrendered and you'd swiftly learned that this was a lesser force.
Two hundred lay dead from your force, and while you walked among the wounded you were conscious not to spend the strength of your spirit too freely, lest there be another attack.
Even the camp's supplies were little consolation, for it seemed this had truly been a first test. Angerfang had withdrawn, taking his best warriors with him and all the supplies he could carry, spoiling the rest it seemed.
"We must press on." Scorn told you. "Slay the prisoners, it is likely they will turn on us in further battles and we cannot supply them for long."
"No, absolutely not." you replied quickly, "Let Shatterskull guard them, and set them up in a further camp away from our own. They can tend the wounded and see to the dressing of game or foraging. If they prove treacherous, then slay them, but not before."
Scorn had frowned but he obeyed, and that was what was important.
You marched on to Dun Algaz. That was a true dwarf fortress, though a relatively small one. You knew it would be worse there. Angerfang had proved himself a canny opponent, and you could still not use the means you might have against other foes.
The main problem was that Angerfang clearly knew who you were and what you could do. Against the Scourge, or the Syndicate, an Orcish Blademaster was an unknown quantity. The Scourge hadn't expected you to infiltrate across the rooftops of Anderhol for example, and the Syndicate didn't know about your lordship over Earth that had broken their ranks at the Battle of Varnhold. Angerfang though knew what shaman and blademasters could do, he had mobility, preparation, magical support and fierce warriors. If you called on a spirit like you'd ordered at Stromgarde then Angerfang might order the same and it was possible you'd end up with another Dreadmist Peak, the subsequent battle between colossals wiping out both sides. Comparably, if you rushed ahead to challenge Angerfang himself or to target his shaman, you thought it likely the Dragonmaw captain would have prepared for it.
Nevertheless, you went on. Several times you faced ambushes and attacks from the sky or from bowshot up on some high cliff. The land was rugged, and if it wasn't bog beneath your feet it was the narrow defiles and mountainous terrain that went up into the great mountains under which the Dwarves had built their capital. Angerfang knew the terrain well, and though you had Shatterskull scouting, you couldn't proceed quickly during the day, and had to sleep without fires at night for fear of dragon attack.
"If there is one thing we must have in future, it is better ranged support." you told Tagorr one night as you huddled under a hide while it rained outside.
The Blackrock nodded, a hole in the canopy dripping water onto his rusty mail.
Many were wounded, but many more were able to walk still and you took two hundred into the hills one day, forcing your way through a shield wall of Dragonmaw and racing up the mountain to attack several spellcasters on the heights. They didn't expect your speed, for though they lobbed down sorcerous orbs against you the Fireblade was there and the Light shielded your soul as you braved the spellcraft. You slew all there and moved on, for none had surrendered that time and each was a veteran it seemed.
Finally, the way to Dun Algaz was open.
You'd seen it one day as you'd scaled a cliff to get a better view of the territory. The fortress itself was a tall tower, octagonal with weathered corners that had once been sharp. All around it were smaller dwellings, these of the make of your own people, though you could see that they'd used Dwarven stone.
The route there though was punishing indeed. Each day you gained but a little ground, wending your way through narrow passes and over treacherous bridges which led down to dank gullies or rivers. The Dragonmaw had prepared the ground all the way, with Angerfang forcing you to huddle in a strong formation, lest he unleash charges of warriors against a more disparate force. That was a performance though, for though you did oppose charges, it was really just the Dragonmaw making you adopt a dense formation so that they could roll down rocks or spiked logs at you, or use artillery to make the advance a misery.
You adapted though. You retasked your own shaman to try to steer projectiles away as you advanced up and Angerfang didn't have a good response to it. There were magical duels as well as mundane brawls, and these were harsher than those you'd had with the Frostwolves.
Then, your army broke.
It wasn't sudden, and at least it had been due to confusion and not cowardice. You had been drawn out, away from the formation by a threat to your shaman at the rear. You'd received word of an attack and gone quickly to them, finding several already dead at the hands of three Dwarf thanes.
You'd thought that at first at least, but swiftly it became apparent that they were undead. They weren't death knights, they certainly were aware, but they were more than the mindless hungerers of Tirasfal, and with the enchanted armour and weapons they'd been buried with they were certainly more than a match for any death knight of Naxxramas.
Behind you cries raised in the gloom and you heard the whistle of wings as the black drakes swooped down, breathing their flame on the ranks of the column. Many died, burned from the inside out and choking on their own singed lungs, while others threw themselves down and rolled in the dirt to extinguish themselves.
Then came a charge and Dragonmaw orcs rushed down the mountain at you, their artillery sending great bolts scything through your ranks.
You heard about all this later, still busy with the three undead thanes. By the time you'd regained your command the warband was in confusion with many trying to reform even under attack.
You'd ordered a retreat.
It was the first time you'd ever done that and you glared up at Dun Algaz, the maddened Myzrael raging in her chains as she felt your anger.
You seethed as you made your way back down. You stewed in your anger till Sesk has grasped you by the shoulder and told you to see to the wounded.
You spend the night with them, saving who you could. The Dragonmaw frequently used undead in their attacks and whenever a warrior was brought down wounded, it didn't take much for a relatively weak undead to finish him off.
When morning came your force was down to less than half's its effective strength, and Shatterskull had ridden up saying he couldn't even be certain he'd be able to hold the Dragonmaw prisoners from the first battle if they made an attempt at escape.
Once more you thought of other ways. You thought to call Myzrael up then and bring down the whole fortress.
But no, it was still a bad idea, and still for the same reasons as it had been before.
"Where did I go wrong?" you asked Sesk, standing over the corpses of a small force of Dragonmaw who'd made a foolish counterattack and been caught off guard when you cut their leader in half.
"I am not Akinos Steelclaw." Sesk replied.
You knew what he meant. Your old master had been fond of questions as a means to teach you to think better.
"I couldn't have brought more warriors, the supplies didn't allow for it and the terrain here doesn't either." you said, thinking through the situation. "Perhaps I could have broken through in the first battle and seen to Angerfang…"
"Even if you had, from what I've seen his subordinates would have just taken over. You'd still be facing the same strategies and defences." The Fel Orc said.
Sesk hadn't taken part in the fighting. He'd done so less and less after you'd become a Blademaster yourself. He would still see to his duty, but that didn't involve solving your problems for you.
"We couldn't have come up the pass faster, I don't think." you concluded, "They were very well prepared, the defences, the warriors, the coordination between the dragonriders and the shaman, even the ambush by the undead and the Dwarf thanes especially. I might have guarded them better I suppose."
"They came out ground, they must have been buried and called to battle after we passed, I judge." Sesk said.
You nodded, perhaps.
There was a strange sense of unease in this land. It felt almost like the Plaguelands. Though, you supposed reflecting further, the curse of the Plaguelands had been obvious, from the evil miasma and the plague cauldrons to the wandering undead and diseased forests. This was different. You could clearly feel it in the earth, something evil stirring perhaps. It set the hairs on the back of your neck standing and distracted you as you thought.
"Don't judge yourself too harshly." Sesk said, coming to stand beside you. "You did what you could, but you're experiencing something new you've never felt before."
"Defeat?" you asked.
Sesk nodded sagely. "Every warrior must take that bitter bite sometime, and if you've fought as many battles as you have without doing so previously, well, that is fortune."
You'd not faced defeat before, it was true. Even in battles where the outcome was uncertain, such as at Dreadmist or in Naxxramas, you'd accomplished what you'd attempted to do.
Here though the road to Dun Algaz would be strewn with the corpses of your people if you wanted to win.
"I don't think you arrogant." Sesk continued, "But you're skilled and powerful, and unaccustomed to facing those who can put up a meaningful fight on your own terms. Gorfax Angerfang is an experienced commander and leads well, and he had put in place the necessary measures to see that you cannot act as you might at other times. Respect him for that, but do not hate him. Let this be something you learn from, rather."
You nodded, "I will. Send for Angerfang."
The orc himself came the next day. He was lightly armed, only in a leather jerkin and bearing dagger and hatchet on his waist, without any other weapon or armour to speak of.
"I greet you, Cry of the Beast." you said, using the ancient phrasing.
Angerfang paused. "I have never spoken the Old Tongue, but in whatever way you greet me, I return the same courtesy, Grok'mash Fireblade, Blademaster."
"I would have terms for your surrender." you told him, "You have defended your holdings well, and with honour. I would be gladder to have you under my command, but I would be just as glad to see your exit from this place, back to Grim Batol."
Angerfang huffed at that, "I have yet to see even one of your warriors gain the upper galleries. If you come up we will throw you back down. I don't doubt your skill with a blade might see me dead in an instant, but there are other ways to fight."
"There are." you confirmed. "But I swear on my honour that if you do not surrender I will rend the mountain down upon your heads."
Angerfang didn't do so obvious a thing as blanching or stepping back in alarm, but under his brows you saw his eyes widen slightly. It was a promise he did not wish to test, clearly.
For a dozen breaths the Dragonmaw commander was silent, then he drew breath and spoke slowly. "Will you also swear that my people will be permitted to leave peacefully, that you will not pursue us and that you will care for the wounded that we must leave behind?"
"I will swear." you replied solemnly.
The Dragonmaw departed the Wetlands as you watched. It was raining again but you let it run down your head, plastering errant strands of hair to your face.
It was a victory, if you could call it that while hundreds of orcs lay dead. The passes were cleared, the Dragonmaw dislodged and pushed back to Grim Batol. It would give Ironforge room to reinforce the region, if they desired it, but beyond that was not your responsibility. More importantly, you supposed after your discussion with Sesk, the battles had brought you the humility that perhaps you'd lacked before.
"A good day, an honourable one." you said to yourself as you watched the last Dragonmaw drake flying between two peaks and out of sight.
Mangi mission
Travel to Menethil Harbour, then attacking Angerfang
Dragonmaw vs Dwarves history, 45, Dwarves doing less well.
Dragonmaw disposition? 87, strong, reinforced recently, diverse well equipped force
Angerfang, 36, poorly, losses taken extensively, Dragonmaw rally to Dun Algaz. note to get shinbone quest in here
Dun Algaz, 28, even worse, many losses taken, forced to retreat.
Rallying against coutnerattack, very effective, 93.
Grim Batol corruption? 25, corruption spreading extensively in Wetlands, partly why Dragonmaw there in force.
Grok diplo to try and defuse, 69, decent hearing. Agree to get them to come back with him? 11, no definitely not.
Dragonmaw Clan in Wetlands pushed back to Grim Batol, Strange things seen in surrounding areas. Dwarf passes clear and Dwarves thankful but somewhat apprehensive.
Travel to Menethil Harbour, then attacking Angerfang
Dragonmaw vs Dwarves history, 45, Dwarves doing less well.
Dragonmaw disposition? 87, strong, reinforced recently, diverse well equipped force
Angerfang, 36, poorly, losses taken extensively, Dragonmaw rally to Dun Algaz. note to get shinbone quest in here
Dun Algaz, 28, even worse, many losses taken, forced to retreat.
Rallying against coutnerattack, very effective, 93.
Grim Batol corruption? 25, corruption spreading extensively in Wetlands, partly why Dragonmaw there in force.
Grok diplo to try and defuse, 69, decent hearing. Agree to get them to come back with him? 11, no definitely not.
Dragonmaw Clan in Wetlands pushed back to Grim Batol, Strange things seen in surrounding areas. Dwarf passes clear and Dwarves thankful but somewhat apprehensive.
"The whole kingdom is most disrupted." the regent Gregor was saying, "There are whole communities on the move, your warriors ignore the lawful orders of human nobles, the Army and it's officers grow restless while you lead your private forces to battles, there are some orcs who know what they should do but these new ones from other lands have no idea what the rules and laws of the kingdom are. Only yesterday I had a petition from a Baron who refused demands for armour and weapons from some of the newer pale Orcs and they ransacked his armoury to make the mail armour you've pioneered!"
You didn't bother to correct him that to accuse an Orc of being a Pale Orc was a grave insult as it signified a madness and disease on Draenor, nor did you address that Vark had invented the 'double armour' and not you.
"This is your function." you replied instead. "I am bound to see to the military of Alterac, that is my function. Your duty is the administration of all other matters."
"And your actions imperil that administration." Gregor said in a pained voice. "The social structure the kingdom is breaking down!"
You did not think it was that serious. But you'd never had a particularly high opinion of Gregor anyway.
"I've only just been able to settle the old Syndicate nobles. Their good will relies on their participation in the affairs of the kingdom, they must be given opportunities to gain glory and enhance their position, it is a delicate balance-"
"They are not children." you interrupted.
"It's delicate." Gregor insisted again. "There have been large flows of capital and goods, large movements of people, the legal status of your orcs is unclear and none know how to interact them, there is no integration, there are almost two economies now between the humans and the orcs. I ask you, for example, who is the legal owner of the treasure you took from Gilneas? Is that a payment for your personal services or is that a gift from the King of Gilneas to the Kingdom of Alterac?" Gregor asked, "It is disruptive. Many of your warriors and captains seem to believe they can go about ordering others about or requisitioning supplies for military affairs."
"Of course they do." you replied. You were aware of such things, "This is how things get done. We need those supplies to ensure the security of the kingdom." you said.
The meeting concluded as well as it had proceeded, not well. Gregor was frustrated by the changes in the kingdom, while you had to create those changes to resolve matters that needed to be resolved. You could understand his problems, but you had no respect for the man. He wore a sword he'd never used, save perhaps in his youthful training and he had no conception of military affairs, relying on diplomacy and politicking to achieve his ends. Worse though, Gregor's conception of the rule of Alterac was fundamentally different from your own.
You'd been advised on this. Several of your captains had spoken that you should have moved against Gregor early on, seized the rule of Alterac or put Orcs in the posts that Gregor had filled with the former Syndicate members. You could have done that, you supposed, but there had been many matters to attend to at the time.
You considered it, idly perhaps, as you marched down the road out of Alterac. Would there be a reckoning between you and Gregor? Certainly you could take the kingdom, even if the Alteraci rallied another army, even if they made the core of it from the thousand men you'd trained, you still had thousands of Orcs in the Kingdom who could defeat any other local force.
And if you did take the kingdom, you suspected the only person who could oppose you meaningfully would be Saiden Dathrohan, and you knew he probably wouldn't care.
It went to Vark's point about your longer term intentions for Alterac and the Orcs you commanded. If you intended to only occupy the territory for a short time, there would be no point in upsetting matters further. If you intended to lead the Orcs of Alterac to some other location, it would also be pointless to establish them in position of authority over the human peasants. Comparably, if you saw yourself retaining your title as Constable of Alterac for any length of time, having more control over the human infrastructure of the kingdom could be useful, as could the integration of the orcs into the human economy, though you understood such things little in truth.
The people of Southshore were getting used to orcs, it seemed. You'd travelled past the same in for the third or fourth time now. The first two had seen the innkeeper bolting his doors and sending off a boy to summon aid, but this time it seemed he was just content to watch you suspiciously from the window.
It was a positive reflection on the growing relations between orcs and humans, you thought. Even if your affairs didn't go as planned, to plant a tree of understanding in the minds of the human kingdoms was worth it, you thought.
But as you travelled, you could see they were generally still apprehensive.
Southshore went by quickly, you didn't bother stopping there and went on past Durnholde Keep, toward the Thoradin Wall and into Stromgarde. The Arathi delayed you somewhat, you'd stolen their supplies the last time you came through half a year ago, but your people were hardy indeed and you made them march hard so that within two days you'd already cleared almost half the kingdom.
Shatterskull and his outriders hunted and scouted for you, and one day he came back with a necklace made of trolls ears, obviously coming into conflict with the remnants of the Witherbark tribe.
While you might desire greater communication between orcs and humans, if only to hear the news that might be heard of Kalimdor and your home, you also recognised that no human force would be able to do what you were doing now. You were marching with your kin, sometimes running up and down the line to encourage them, but you knew that a human force would have long since fallen in exhaustion.
You always pushed them hard. Speed and ferocity had served you well in your relatively short military career, and physical conditioning was especially important for that. Even without the Mightstone you'd always been in good condition too, but you expected the same for each warrior under your command. It was only when you saw the officers tiring, with Tagorr the Dread, your Blackrock commander, mopping sweat from his brow that you called a halt. Your warriors gratefully fell into a messy camp, but you allowed it for now. There were no enemies in this part of the world and you didn't need the same fortification as you'd normally adopt in hostile territory.
You dined on raptor and ram meat, hunted during the march and put in great larders for your provisioning by the Warsong contingent. It was that or hard biscuit and a jerky that could be chewed on the march to prevent the need for a stop for mealtimes, but once again you were glad of the hardiness of your orcish blood.
It would be better, you thought, if there were forts and granaries from which you could draw for a force on the march. One constraint in your planning had been that there was only so much food a thousand orcs could carry. That was the limit of your ability to bring really, but at least all the orcs you had were well rested and none injured, for save for a small force of veterans in your original warband, most of these orcs hadn't campaigned with you before.
You had about five hundred of your own force, the remnants of the hundred who'd come with you from Kalimdor, as well as several hundred Blackrock who'd joined up before you came to Alterac. Then there was a hundred outriders from Shatterskull's warband, as well as equal numbers of Demonsword and Blackrock orcs who'd joined you more recently. You judged it to be a strong force, and especially in the ways you intended to use it, but for all that you might wish for more training or greater numbers.
Everything you'd heard about the Wetlands though told you that large forces would be of little use there, for there were few roads and little infrastructure in the region, and you'd be fighting in mountains where a smaller and better force would be more use than a larger one with less training.
You crossed the Thandol Span at daybreak, passing over the ancient Dwarven construction from Arathi to the southern half of the Eastern Kingdoms. It was a magnificent piece of engineering, an enormous, almost farcical construction of stone where mighty Dwarven kings look down at you sternly. The Bronzebeard sentries questioned you at the gates, for just over a thousand orcs were a fearsome thing to find at your gates, but you still had the writ you'd received from their king, as well as the letter from Ironforge requesting your aid in the battles against the Dragonmaw.
Dun Modr, the fortress at the southern half of the Thandol Span, was an informative haunt. Your force was through relatively quickly, but you and several of your officers were invited to dine with the commander, Thargas Anvilmar.
There you found a friendlier face, for though the Dwarves were courteous, you suspected the settlement had been occupied by the Orcs during the Second War and Dwarves were notoriously cantankerous.
"My family descends from Modimus Anvilmar, the last High King of the Dwarven people." said Thargas, "I had heard that you'd brought battle to the enemies of the Wildhammers, so for that I thank you, for they remain kin, though cousins rather than brothers."
"I did." you replied, "Though I might have done more with greater cooperation from your kin in that regard."
You didn't know a great deal about dwarven politics. There had once been a single nation, you knew, but at some point for unclear reasons they had split into the Bronzebeards, Wildhammers and Dark Irons. The Dark Iron lived in Blackrock Mountain and had some sort of alliance with Blackhand's sons, while the Wildhammer had travelled north and were best known for taming gryphons and providing them to the rest of the Alliance.
Thargas shrugged, mopping the froth of beer from his brown whiskers as he drunk deep, "Perhaps, but you cannot expect friendship from them, given what your people did."
You sipped your own beverage but said nothing.
Thargas had a good awareness of the strategic situation in the area and briefed you well. The Green Belt, a range of the Wetlands which you'd have to pass though had only one good road and he told you to expect ambushes there. You didn't think that would happen, your numbers were too many for a dangerous force to make a credible attack.
The Dragonmaw clan seemed to be remnants of the Second War. During that conflict they had enslaved the Dragonqueen, Alexstraza and used her children to destroy the Kul Tiran fleet. Eventually Alexstraza had broken loose and incinerated half the clan, who had fled into the highlands to the east. That was where Runewatcher had intended to take his Blackrock to, which confirmed in your mind that there was still a strong alliance between the two clans. It seemed though that the Dragonmaw had returned and now occupied the fortress again, and as an old city of one of the Dwarven clans it was a formidable target.
Thargas explained that apart from their disruption due to the Red Dragonflight, the Dragonmaw clan had spent the last ten years raiding. They'd seized several dwarven camps, and fortified strong places in the mountains. While they had some husbandry and hunting, they would also seize shipments of supplies send from the south up into Lordaeron or to Menethil Harbour on the western coast, and the Dragonmaw had become well-armed and supplied due to this.
You didn't have the numbers to contest Grim Batol, and nor did you intend to. You aimed instead to take on the Dragonmaw in their eastern holdfasts. They relied not on battle but on the possibility of breaking up the supplies to Menethil Harbour, and to contest the Dragonmaw there would at least mean to improve the supply situation from Stormwind and Ironforge toward Lordaeron, which in turn you knew would alleviate some of the difficulties the Scarlet Crusade had been having in their battles.
If the situation was so poor though and the supplies Dun Modr and the north could receive so strangled, it seem strange to you that Ironforge didn't send out forces to deal with the problem. As vigorous as the Dragonmaw were, you knew Ironforge must have tens of thousands of troops. You put the question to Thargas…
"Because the Dragonmaw while injurious to us here are not a threat to Ironforge." replied the Thane. "Blackrock Mountain and both your kin and the Dark Irons there are much more of a threat. If they cross the mountains and our forces are here then the whole of Dun Morogh and the surrounding region could be set ablaze."
Of course, the Dwarves, while doughty fighters had never been known for their alacrity or mobility in battle or on campaigns.
"King Mangi is reluctant to send forces out when the Dark Irons might attack at some point. We already contest them in the Badlands and sometimes in the Burning Steppes north of Blackrock Mountain but our strength is spread widely and there are many concerns of the King, or so I judge, it's not as if he's informed me of his thoughts." concluded Thargas.
Though the Dwarves were fine fighters, it might take an army of ten thousand to displace the Orcs in Grim Batol, you suspected, and indeed if King Mangi found himself short such a force and under threat of a larger Dark Iron army then you guessed indeed he would adopt a defensive posture.
You moved on, seeking to hear more about the Dragonmaw themselves. It seemed the leadership was contested between a captain, Gorfax Angerfang, who was the most vigorous warleader in the Wetlands, and the 'true' chief, Nek'rosh, son of Nekros.
The later you'd heard of for Nekros Skullcrusher had enslaved the largest dragon in the world and that was a feat of power indeed which had made the orc famous. That he'd died to his slave had not been so remarked on, but you detected politics at work in the struggle. It was often the case that the leadership of clans was contested and in particular that clan chiefs would sometimes desire that their sons succeed them. However, while your people did not maintain hereditary forms of rule, nor were they immune to nepotism and when an unworthy or weak son took over he would often be contested by one of the senior warriors, in this case this captain, Angerfang.
You found yourself wondering about Nek'rosh though. His father's name, Nekros, was from the Old Tongue, that language only truly remembered by poets and the most wise of shaman. You knew it, as did your father for the Burning Blade had invented the written word among the Orcs after all and such things were recorded in the annals of your clan. But 'Nek'rosh', was that a corruption? Orcs forgetting their heritage? Not many actually spoke the language anymore, there were a few curses or sayings still that people knew, but if you went about speaking in the Old Tongue people would think you were strange. Most Orcs called the Dragonmaw by that name, they didn't remember that they were Nelgor-Shomash, the 'Cry of the Beasts', for it was by that name that they'd become famous on Draenor as the tamers of rylaks.
Was this conflict or struggle between Angerfang and Nek'rosh merely a reflection of tradition and modernity?
You yourself might have been contested by a similar senior warrior, if you father fell in battle. Once, yes, but no more. Your father had acknowledged you and you were confident that the Clan would accept you.
But then again, there was much of the Burning Blade that you didn't know. You still knew relatively little of what was going on over in Desolace, only that many of your clan travelled there. No doubt there was some sort of hidden fortress there and you suspected there were forbidden practices that had been going on, such as the artificial aging of children as the Demonsword did.
How would you rule them, if you father did fall? You'd need to know more about them for a start, and then perhaps to consolidate them in one place. That was the problem with big clans, the personal leadership of the chief was distributed with great unevenness, mostly in the direct location of the chief.
Was that a problem Thrall had faced? Is that why he appeared passive? Was he rather staying in Orgrimmar instead of leading forces in battle or similar because he wished to influence his people, and could only do that with his personal power?
That was the problem with Orcish authority in general, you supposed. It stemmed from the individual rather than from some artificial power such as rank or writ. Dathrohan, you knew, was able to exert his own authority in regions far away from his personal location. Some of that authority stemmed from his captains certainly, but others were by formal establishments and hierarchies.
You passed through the Wetlands quickly. It was a verdant country, and very wet as the name might suggest. You were forced to camp on the road, which you didn't much like and you pushed the warriors on faster to avoid ambushes by strange plant creatures which watched you from the bogs. It was a dark place and grumbling clouds stretched, gravid, over the sky.
You felt something in the earth too. Something of darkness, a sickness maybe. You looked to the bogs and fetid pools for an answer but saw little others than strange spindly shapes that might be trees.
Soon enough though you were up into the hills, and the Angerfang Encampment before you. Dragons had flown overhead and you were glad you'd decided not to bring Azanoth for you knew the drake would have been swiftly overcome if she'd taken to the sky.
The Dragonmaw were watching you, that much was clear. Where their red dragons might have fled, they'd been replaced by Blacks from Rend's alliance with Neferian. You might speak to Kalaran about that when you saw him. You knew Kalaran and Nyoxdra represented a faction of Black Dragons who sought security away from Rend's Horde, they would back both you and Rend as long as it suited them and both you and Rend would be grateful for their assistance, no doubt.
The Angerfang Encampment was a semi-permanent one. The walls were a rude palisade, rather poorly maintained with several spikes out of place that you could see. However, the terrain of the encampment made it difficult to assault and you could see it would be difficult to get artillery into a position to attack with Dragonmaw falling on them from the sky. There were some stone buildings behind the walls, all of Dwarven make, but you could see they'd been there for a while, if only by the pile of slag from the production of iron inside that you could sense through your connection to the Spirit of Earth.
You offered terms at first, but your emissary was returned quickly. Angerfang, who commanded the eponymous fort, claimed he didn't the authority to treat with you independently. It was a cunning reply, for it also meant he wasn't compelled to fight in Mak'gora with you if you'd declared the duel. He intentionally lowered his status to that of a mere captain, rather than your role as a chief.
The attack was brief and bloody. You formed up as well as you were able to, then marched down the narrow strip of land toward a raised causeway which would expose you from shots from the fort. You could have reduced the for to rubble if you'd summoned Myzrael, but you couldn't risk such a move when you knew there would be shaman among the ranks of the Dragonmaw. Instead you advanced with the warriors in the first rank, sheltered under their shields as they went forward.
They outnumbered your forces, especially once you broke through the first gate with the Fireblade cutting through the wood like wet leather. Yours was a force that had taken cities, they were raiders battle-hardened over a decade. Angerfang had cleared consolidated his troops, there were hundreds of warriors and your folk struggled in a shield wall as you tried to break out on the flank followed by your guards. You faced undead too, the product of a gaggle of necrolytes who'd practiced their art over years and sent forth warriors armoured in rune-scribed bones that your sword could not cut.
The fighting was hard and fast, you cut orcs down as their roared, charging toward you. The dragons strafed your formation several times and on three occasions cast down gunpowder bombs, till you ordered your own shaman to command the Spirits to carry the bombs against the Dragonmaw instead. The dragons stopped after that, landing toward the rear of the settlement, then taking off again and flying away.
That was the end of the battle. It became clear that Angerfang had retreated through a lesser gate, with his dragonriders carrying away a few of the more important magic users while he rode out with his cavalry. You slew many of the remainder of the warriors before the rest surrendered and you'd swiftly learned that this was a lesser force.
Two hundred lay dead from your force, and while you walked among the wounded you were conscious not to spend the strength of your spirit too freely, lest there be another attack.
Even the camp's supplies were little consolation, for it seemed this had truly been a first test. Angerfang had withdrawn, taking his best warriors with him and all the supplies he could carry, spoiling the rest it seemed.
"We must press on." Scorn told you. "Slay the prisoners, it is likely they will turn on us in further battles and we cannot supply them for long."
"No, absolutely not." you replied quickly, "Let Shatterskull guard them, and set them up in a further camp away from our own. They can tend the wounded and see to the dressing of game or foraging. If they prove treacherous, then slay them, but not before."
Scorn had frowned but he obeyed, and that was what was important.
You marched on to Dun Algaz. That was a true dwarf fortress, though a relatively small one. You knew it would be worse there. Angerfang had proved himself a canny opponent, and you could still not use the means you might have against other foes.
The main problem was that Angerfang clearly knew who you were and what you could do. Against the Scourge, or the Syndicate, an Orcish Blademaster was an unknown quantity. The Scourge hadn't expected you to infiltrate across the rooftops of Anderhol for example, and the Syndicate didn't know about your lordship over Earth that had broken their ranks at the Battle of Varnhold. Angerfang though knew what shaman and blademasters could do, he had mobility, preparation, magical support and fierce warriors. If you called on a spirit like you'd ordered at Stromgarde then Angerfang might order the same and it was possible you'd end up with another Dreadmist Peak, the subsequent battle between colossals wiping out both sides. Comparably, if you rushed ahead to challenge Angerfang himself or to target his shaman, you thought it likely the Dragonmaw captain would have prepared for it.
Nevertheless, you went on. Several times you faced ambushes and attacks from the sky or from bowshot up on some high cliff. The land was rugged, and if it wasn't bog beneath your feet it was the narrow defiles and mountainous terrain that went up into the great mountains under which the Dwarves had built their capital. Angerfang knew the terrain well, and though you had Shatterskull scouting, you couldn't proceed quickly during the day, and had to sleep without fires at night for fear of dragon attack.
"If there is one thing we must have in future, it is better ranged support." you told Tagorr one night as you huddled under a hide while it rained outside.
The Blackrock nodded, a hole in the canopy dripping water onto his rusty mail.
Many were wounded, but many more were able to walk still and you took two hundred into the hills one day, forcing your way through a shield wall of Dragonmaw and racing up the mountain to attack several spellcasters on the heights. They didn't expect your speed, for though they lobbed down sorcerous orbs against you the Fireblade was there and the Light shielded your soul as you braved the spellcraft. You slew all there and moved on, for none had surrendered that time and each was a veteran it seemed.
Finally, the way to Dun Algaz was open.
You'd seen it one day as you'd scaled a cliff to get a better view of the territory. The fortress itself was a tall tower, octagonal with weathered corners that had once been sharp. All around it were smaller dwellings, these of the make of your own people, though you could see that they'd used Dwarven stone.
The route there though was punishing indeed. Each day you gained but a little ground, wending your way through narrow passes and over treacherous bridges which led down to dank gullies or rivers. The Dragonmaw had prepared the ground all the way, with Angerfang forcing you to huddle in a strong formation, lest he unleash charges of warriors against a more disparate force. That was a performance though, for though you did oppose charges, it was really just the Dragonmaw making you adopt a dense formation so that they could roll down rocks or spiked logs at you, or use artillery to make the advance a misery.
You adapted though. You retasked your own shaman to try to steer projectiles away as you advanced up and Angerfang didn't have a good response to it. There were magical duels as well as mundane brawls, and these were harsher than those you'd had with the Frostwolves.
Then, your army broke.
It wasn't sudden, and at least it had been due to confusion and not cowardice. You had been drawn out, away from the formation by a threat to your shaman at the rear. You'd received word of an attack and gone quickly to them, finding several already dead at the hands of three Dwarf thanes.
You'd thought that at first at least, but swiftly it became apparent that they were undead. They weren't death knights, they certainly were aware, but they were more than the mindless hungerers of Tirasfal, and with the enchanted armour and weapons they'd been buried with they were certainly more than a match for any death knight of Naxxramas.
Behind you cries raised in the gloom and you heard the whistle of wings as the black drakes swooped down, breathing their flame on the ranks of the column. Many died, burned from the inside out and choking on their own singed lungs, while others threw themselves down and rolled in the dirt to extinguish themselves.
Then came a charge and Dragonmaw orcs rushed down the mountain at you, their artillery sending great bolts scything through your ranks.
You heard about all this later, still busy with the three undead thanes. By the time you'd regained your command the warband was in confusion with many trying to reform even under attack.
You'd ordered a retreat.
It was the first time you'd ever done that and you glared up at Dun Algaz, the maddened Myzrael raging in her chains as she felt your anger.
You seethed as you made your way back down. You stewed in your anger till Sesk has grasped you by the shoulder and told you to see to the wounded.
You spend the night with them, saving who you could. The Dragonmaw frequently used undead in their attacks and whenever a warrior was brought down wounded, it didn't take much for a relatively weak undead to finish him off.
When morning came your force was down to less than half's its effective strength, and Shatterskull had ridden up saying he couldn't even be certain he'd be able to hold the Dragonmaw prisoners from the first battle if they made an attempt at escape.
Once more you thought of other ways. You thought to call Myzrael up then and bring down the whole fortress.
But no, it was still a bad idea, and still for the same reasons as it had been before.
"Where did I go wrong?" you asked Sesk, standing over the corpses of a small force of Dragonmaw who'd made a foolish counterattack and been caught off guard when you cut their leader in half.
"I am not Akinos Steelclaw." Sesk replied.
You knew what he meant. Your old master had been fond of questions as a means to teach you to think better.
"I couldn't have brought more warriors, the supplies didn't allow for it and the terrain here doesn't either." you said, thinking through the situation. "Perhaps I could have broken through in the first battle and seen to Angerfang…"
"Even if you had, from what I've seen his subordinates would have just taken over. You'd still be facing the same strategies and defences." The Fel Orc said.
Sesk hadn't taken part in the fighting. He'd done so less and less after you'd become a Blademaster yourself. He would still see to his duty, but that didn't involve solving your problems for you.
"We couldn't have come up the pass faster, I don't think." you concluded, "They were very well prepared, the defences, the warriors, the coordination between the dragonriders and the shaman, even the ambush by the undead and the Dwarf thanes especially. I might have guarded them better I suppose."
"They came out ground, they must have been buried and called to battle after we passed, I judge." Sesk said.
You nodded, perhaps.
There was a strange sense of unease in this land. It felt almost like the Plaguelands. Though, you supposed reflecting further, the curse of the Plaguelands had been obvious, from the evil miasma and the plague cauldrons to the wandering undead and diseased forests. This was different. You could clearly feel it in the earth, something evil stirring perhaps. It set the hairs on the back of your neck standing and distracted you as you thought.
"Don't judge yourself too harshly." Sesk said, coming to stand beside you. "You did what you could, but you're experiencing something new you've never felt before."
"Defeat?" you asked.
Sesk nodded sagely. "Every warrior must take that bitter bite sometime, and if you've fought as many battles as you have without doing so previously, well, that is fortune."
You'd not faced defeat before, it was true. Even in battles where the outcome was uncertain, such as at Dreadmist or in Naxxramas, you'd accomplished what you'd attempted to do.
Here though the road to Dun Algaz would be strewn with the corpses of your people if you wanted to win.
"I don't think you arrogant." Sesk continued, "But you're skilled and powerful, and unaccustomed to facing those who can put up a meaningful fight on your own terms. Gorfax Angerfang is an experienced commander and leads well, and he had put in place the necessary measures to see that you cannot act as you might at other times. Respect him for that, but do not hate him. Let this be something you learn from, rather."
You nodded, "I will. Send for Angerfang."
The orc himself came the next day. He was lightly armed, only in a leather jerkin and bearing dagger and hatchet on his waist, without any other weapon or armour to speak of.
"I greet you, Cry of the Beast." you said, using the ancient phrasing.
Angerfang paused. "I have never spoken the Old Tongue, but in whatever way you greet me, I return the same courtesy, Grok'mash Fireblade, Blademaster."
"I would have terms for your surrender." you told him, "You have defended your holdings well, and with honour. I would be gladder to have you under my command, but I would be just as glad to see your exit from this place, back to Grim Batol."
Angerfang huffed at that, "I have yet to see even one of your warriors gain the upper galleries. If you come up we will throw you back down. I don't doubt your skill with a blade might see me dead in an instant, but there are other ways to fight."
"There are." you confirmed. "But I swear on my honour that if you do not surrender I will rend the mountain down upon your heads."
Angerfang didn't do so obvious a thing as blanching or stepping back in alarm, but under his brows you saw his eyes widen slightly. It was a promise he did not wish to test, clearly.
For a dozen breaths the Dragonmaw commander was silent, then he drew breath and spoke slowly. "Will you also swear that my people will be permitted to leave peacefully, that you will not pursue us and that you will care for the wounded that we must leave behind?"
"I will swear." you replied solemnly.
The Dragonmaw departed the Wetlands as you watched. It was raining again but you let it run down your head, plastering errant strands of hair to your face.
It was a victory, if you could call it that while hundreds of orcs lay dead. The passes were cleared, the Dragonmaw dislodged and pushed back to Grim Batol. It would give Ironforge room to reinforce the region, if they desired it, but beyond that was not your responsibility. More importantly, you supposed after your discussion with Sesk, the battles had brought you the humility that perhaps you'd lacked before.
"A good day, an honourable one." you said to yourself as you watched the last Dragonmaw drake flying between two peaks and out of sight.
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- Location
- barking
huh neet angerfang is here hope we can get him on board since in the fucture he did want to reform the dragonmaw from their slaving past.
and yeah feels like a civil war is comming to alterac if we don't do something
and yeah feels like a civil war is comming to alterac if we don't do something
- Location
- barking
I mean unless something big comes up I only really want to see if kul'tris still has that mission and the first merc mission is free so that should have the rest to hopefully help this situation
- Location
- Texas
What an unexpectedly costly affair, the Dragonmaw made excellent use of their terrain. Magical support and healers, as Grok'mash fought against the Scourge, would do well to reduce fatalities. Humans have a lower caloric requirement than orcs, so a handful of priests would go a long way while not terribly impacting supply. And the shamans warding against projectiles is something that could be explored to drill and formalize. Let this be an opportunity to put our heads together and reflect on how to do better.
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Yep, and some Humans as magical support could indeed be a lighter load on supplies while providing the same help.
Now, we just have to help put together the pieces of Alterac without having it shatter in one thousand fragments. Which starts to seem a mildly pressing issue^^
Now, we just have to help put together the pieces of Alterac without having it shatter in one thousand fragments. Which starts to seem a mildly pressing issue^^
- Location
- barking
yeah this really shows our weakness we could beat enemies like the scourge cause their are champion heavy, the syndicate cause they were numbers and the demonsword clan cause of the makgaoh, but if it comes to enemies like this we need more then just grok who might be distracted and our human allies (like sally cause well she isn't part of the warband itself) so yeah taking magical aid next turn is enticing to say the least
Kir the Wizard
The Sun King
- Location
- Ukraine
I would also take the regent's concerns seriously.
- Pronouns
- He/Him
It seems to me that our good sir Grok'mash is a bit of a meathead - like all Orcs, in a way, but that doesn't make it better for Regent Gregor.
And part of the problem is the complete decoupling of "Orc economy" and "local economy".
Hmm, I have the solution...
For Grok'mash to start considering Kartha of the Shattered Hand as a Love Interest
- I am joking, that is not necessary. That Grok'mash currently comes off a bit like Boromir in LOTR is ok (which is ironic, I know, given that Boromir&Faramir spent all their time fighting the Mordorian Orcs). It's just that he needs to know more about basic politics and interaction. And Kartha can teach, since the Shattered Hand are the spymaster clan of the Horde, sort of.
We focused a teeny tiny bit much on making him a Samurai that duels people and defeats them, while making proclamations about Muh Honour.
Which is cool and a good way to get Orc followers... but it's not everything.
I guess I am also influenced by my original character concept that did not win the vote (years ago; wow, time passes^^) , more based on stealth and knowledge, i.e. more Orc Corvo Attano than the current Orc Paragon!Commander Shepard. But the point still stands 100%
And part of the problem is the complete decoupling of "Orc economy" and "local economy".
Hmm, I have the solution...
For Grok'mash to start considering Kartha of the Shattered Hand as a Love Interest
- I am joking, that is not necessary. That Grok'mash currently comes off a bit like Boromir in LOTR is ok (which is ironic, I know, given that Boromir&Faramir spent all their time fighting the Mordorian Orcs). It's just that he needs to know more about basic politics and interaction. And Kartha can teach, since the Shattered Hand are the spymaster clan of the Horde, sort of.
We focused a teeny tiny bit much on making him a Samurai that duels people and defeats them, while making proclamations about Muh Honour.
Which is cool and a good way to get Orc followers... but it's not everything.
I guess I am also influenced by my original character concept that did not win the vote (years ago; wow, time passes^^) , more based on stealth and knowledge, i.e. more Orc Corvo Attano than the current Orc Paragon!Commander Shepard. But the point still stands 100%
Kir the Wizard
The Sun King
- Location
- Ukraine
@FractiousDay was the switch of Nekros and Nek'rosh intentional?
- Location
- barking
well unless something big happens we can focus mostly on alterac this comming turn (with 1 merc mission for kul and stormwind to maybe)
- Location
- United Kingdom
It is however spread over the 1000, so your most veteran forces would have been only 100-200 losses, whereas there would have been proportionally more losses among the cohort of inexperienced artificially aged warriors from the Demonsword clan.
But yea 500 dead is still a lot.
Indeed, but how are you transporting them etc. This is Grok's considerations while they're going along, that humans just wouldn't be able to keep up with the swole rock boys that are the Orcs.
So you do have various shaman. Of those, only some of the shaman will be useful in actual battle rather than as just support staff. The RPG differentiates between normal shaman and battle shaman, and there's a point about the idea that battle shaman are 'too' experienced in warfare, that they're incapable of calling on the spirits for things that aren't violence etc. It's an interesting point basically.
Same with mages etc, you'll have some which are good at killing stuff, more who are good at enchantment, or being basically magical tradespeople. If you grab a guy who's job it is to make arcanite all day, or to monitor and maintain Section 4 of the ley network, he's not going to be great at throwing pyroblasts.
You could certainly do with specialised magical support yes, or the training of said. As I've mentioned at various points I use a sort of tech tree system, in this case the development of a Dark Shamanic tradition or further magical stuff would be the 'lead the oreseekers' action. You're welcome to also think about a new one though. I'll be modifying or adding some actions in the next turn to reflect stuff from these chapters.
This rather interests me. For example, both the Scourge and the Crusade seem to reach the conclusion that champion forces are the way to go. That's why Fordring holds his Tournament, to select the best participants to assault Icecrown while the rest of the army is distracting the Scourge forces. I suppose its similar to the primacy of knights in western europe for centuries because you spend so much time and energy educating and equipping a military class so much that in the right conditions they become the only force necessary to acheive victory.
I'll probably address this in an infopost about Grok's personality, just to make sure I'm representing stuff well enough. One of my attempt in this quest has certainly been to have a character, rather than just a vessel for the readers to act through and therefore someone who's personality flips about a lot.
I should probably go back to the originals at some point. I can't remember who did the druid character, but I was thinking of having one of the worgen bite and orc and turn into that guy or something. I did integrate Angrais immediately so maybe I should add a few more. We'll see. Usually I go with canonical ones and adapt them though. I think Vark is probably really the only new character? Mazath the blademaster too as he's a guy who's the son of a canonical one etc.
No and this annoys me. I've corrected now but I assumed the more linguistically complex name was the older one when I was fabricating the explanation for the lazy writing of just repeating the character's name twice.
Oh don't worry there's not anything lurking on the horizon that might disrupt your plans unless you find it soon!
- Location
- barking
the way I see it the champions are like the duels in like persian, chinese and bynaztine cultures where both sides would pick a champion to fight and whoever side wins get a morale boost but in azeroth its the champions fight. and my reasoning for the scourge is that their forces are mostly mindless undead controled by their champions so without the champions they cant even hope to gang up on the enemy champions if they are weakened if that makes sense (like for example in bfa when rastakan died didn;t nathanos and slvanas use his death to inspire the zandalari trolls to fight harder to avenge him)
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One that should be a priority to go for is the improved healing tree.
The orc captains talk about couping Alterac. I can see why but bad idea in the long run for alliance relations somewhat. Alliance members might be expecting that behind closed doors and they don't have a good opinion of Alterac and Danrothan can even cut across the red tape to allow it in exchange for favors though what it bodes for the future is another thing.
A short term defusal would just have to be bribery under the table as gifts to mollify them somewhat except I don't think Grok understands that.
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- Location
- United Kingdom
While that might be one way of doing it and isn't untrue, my idea would be entirely different. Shall address in an infopost
The problem for anyone with a problem with it, is that Dathrohan is the only person and Lordaeron is the only polity who have the capability to take on Alterac and Grok at the moment. Of the Alliance:
High Elves, Stromgarde, Arathi and the Wildhammer are all too weak. Ironforge, Kul Tiras and Stormwind might be able to make a meaningful attack but it would be a bloody and far away distraction from other matters. Lordaeron could pull it off, but Dathrohan doesn't care. For a start he's under the impresison that Grok is a Legion agent, but even without that, Dathrohan would see Grok's leadership of Alterac to be an improvement really.
On the nature of 'Champion Warfare' in Warcraft
- Location
- United Kingdom
So one thing I've always found interesting in WoW (and some other similar fantasy) is that they have a focus on 'champion' warfare. In some fantasy works you'll get individual combatants who are powerful, but not army-destroying. For example the Jedi or Aragorn or whoever are indeed powerful, but they don't win battles by themselves, they just have a powerful effect on battles through skills or abilities.
Comparably, in Warcraft you have specific bits where there's a small number of individuals who acheive the results in a battle. Ignoring fact that this is a non-diegetic reason as the game needs to justify why players are powerful etc, we can turn to in universe examples.
You can have social reasons for this, for exmaple perhaps the Elves emmulate heroic stuff and therefore invest in heroes.
We'll focus on the technology here though, which is mostly magical.
We see Champion Warfare in the Trolls, in various empowerments, in the Death Knights etc.
To use a chronology, in the First and Second Wars, there's not much Champion Warfare. There's the Death Knights vs Paladin match ups, but these aren't widespread or concentrated enough to mean much in the overall conduct of the war. In the Third War however we start to see it. The Scourge use Death Knights as commanders and they're greatly feared as combatants too.
Various parties will surround their capitals or have their armies led by persons of great power, whether martial or magical. These persons are very difficult to assail without an equal or stronger number of your own such persons. Therefore when attacking Blackwing Lair, the Molten Core, Naxxramas or other places of power, champions are sent in.
I think this is perhaps the developing part, the larger nations who are able to more efficiently marshal resources than the older polities like the Dragonflights start to arm and equip their forces, and chose to do so to a high level because they're going to be facing high level enemies. There's no point in sending an army against Neferian, and you can only really send people with special cloaks to resist his Shadowflame, so naturally you invest more into these individuals.
I find it very interesting for example that there's the implication that there are perhaps 200-500 extremely powerful individuals including archmages, Ebon Blade, Silver Hand etc who make up a core of 'adventurers' and deal with the greatest threats. Comparably, there will be a load of lower level people who might participate in other battles or just do their own thing, but I really like the idea that there are these extremely powerful people and I like the idea of conflict between them or amidst them, or maybe the idea that they don't participate in the faction war because they see it as beneath them. These would be a separate class or brotherhood of companions who are able to accumulate long term buffs or advanced equipment and just get more and more powerful.
This might be for technological reasons. For example, if attunement to magic items takes a long time, there's no point in trying to attune lots of people. Or, if your reagents are limited, better to spend them in a cohort rather than trying to spread them out among your army.
The Lich King and Fordragon explicitly adopt this style of warfare, both of them are trying to gather bands of champions to lead their armies and strike the decisive blow. You get some others, for example Illidan with the demonhunters trying to create their own bands of powerful individuals. you also get the technological advancement of classes through information sharing and cooperation like in the Order of the Black Harvest.
I compare this to knights to an extent. It's very difficult to train, equip and retain a large corps of knights, but when you do they're incredibly effective.
We might also be looking at the nature of technological development. For example, a mounted and armoured knight is impervious to most hard and might be worth even 20 other men. Comparably, a really good musketeer probably isn't worth more than 3 other men who are less good. As such, we might just be seeing that technology tends toward exclusivity and small cohort sizes, and cannot be universalised. We might see this in the Troll tendency to create Loa incarnates for example. They don't do it to their whole population, turn everyone into cattrolls or birdtrolls for example, they get the loa (or force them) to empower one particular person to a great extent, which they then use in champion warfare.
This is also quite interesting to me for the narrative effects. For example you might see the top cohort competing for the best magical items, but also hoarding them from the lower cohorts. You might see them exerting political power because they know they're indispensible. You might see them acting as a conservative faction to retain their own power and support structures, but also in restraining things like faction wars because they'd not want their support structures disrupted too much. I think they'd be lauded and elevated socially, but also shunned because they're alien. You'd see the various magical mutations Azeroth magic has. I dealt a little bit with this in Peggy Sue, for example Vark has turned into a bit of a titan creation because he wears a lot of titan stuff and is getting turned back evolutionarily toward being a gronn etc, his body is stony perhaps, but he's also got the Lich King's enchantments on him. Taelan meanwhile has massive and unpleasant mutations from Fel energy over time, but is extremely powerful and has many magical items like the Sceptre of Sagaras.
Comparably, in Warcraft you have specific bits where there's a small number of individuals who acheive the results in a battle. Ignoring fact that this is a non-diegetic reason as the game needs to justify why players are powerful etc, we can turn to in universe examples.
You can have social reasons for this, for exmaple perhaps the Elves emmulate heroic stuff and therefore invest in heroes.
We'll focus on the technology here though, which is mostly magical.
We see Champion Warfare in the Trolls, in various empowerments, in the Death Knights etc.
To use a chronology, in the First and Second Wars, there's not much Champion Warfare. There's the Death Knights vs Paladin match ups, but these aren't widespread or concentrated enough to mean much in the overall conduct of the war. In the Third War however we start to see it. The Scourge use Death Knights as commanders and they're greatly feared as combatants too.
Various parties will surround their capitals or have their armies led by persons of great power, whether martial or magical. These persons are very difficult to assail without an equal or stronger number of your own such persons. Therefore when attacking Blackwing Lair, the Molten Core, Naxxramas or other places of power, champions are sent in.
I think this is perhaps the developing part, the larger nations who are able to more efficiently marshal resources than the older polities like the Dragonflights start to arm and equip their forces, and chose to do so to a high level because they're going to be facing high level enemies. There's no point in sending an army against Neferian, and you can only really send people with special cloaks to resist his Shadowflame, so naturally you invest more into these individuals.
I find it very interesting for example that there's the implication that there are perhaps 200-500 extremely powerful individuals including archmages, Ebon Blade, Silver Hand etc who make up a core of 'adventurers' and deal with the greatest threats. Comparably, there will be a load of lower level people who might participate in other battles or just do their own thing, but I really like the idea that there are these extremely powerful people and I like the idea of conflict between them or amidst them, or maybe the idea that they don't participate in the faction war because they see it as beneath them. These would be a separate class or brotherhood of companions who are able to accumulate long term buffs or advanced equipment and just get more and more powerful.
This might be for technological reasons. For example, if attunement to magic items takes a long time, there's no point in trying to attune lots of people. Or, if your reagents are limited, better to spend them in a cohort rather than trying to spread them out among your army.
The Lich King and Fordragon explicitly adopt this style of warfare, both of them are trying to gather bands of champions to lead their armies and strike the decisive blow. You get some others, for example Illidan with the demonhunters trying to create their own bands of powerful individuals. you also get the technological advancement of classes through information sharing and cooperation like in the Order of the Black Harvest.
I compare this to knights to an extent. It's very difficult to train, equip and retain a large corps of knights, but when you do they're incredibly effective.
We might also be looking at the nature of technological development. For example, a mounted and armoured knight is impervious to most hard and might be worth even 20 other men. Comparably, a really good musketeer probably isn't worth more than 3 other men who are less good. As such, we might just be seeing that technology tends toward exclusivity and small cohort sizes, and cannot be universalised. We might see this in the Troll tendency to create Loa incarnates for example. They don't do it to their whole population, turn everyone into cattrolls or birdtrolls for example, they get the loa (or force them) to empower one particular person to a great extent, which they then use in champion warfare.
This is also quite interesting to me for the narrative effects. For example you might see the top cohort competing for the best magical items, but also hoarding them from the lower cohorts. You might see them exerting political power because they know they're indispensible. You might see them acting as a conservative faction to retain their own power and support structures, but also in restraining things like faction wars because they'd not want their support structures disrupted too much. I think they'd be lauded and elevated socially, but also shunned because they're alien. You'd see the various magical mutations Azeroth magic has. I dealt a little bit with this in Peggy Sue, for example Vark has turned into a bit of a titan creation because he wears a lot of titan stuff and is getting turned back evolutionarily toward being a gronn etc, his body is stony perhaps, but he's also got the Lich King's enchantments on him. Taelan meanwhile has massive and unpleasant mutations from Fel energy over time, but is extremely powerful and has many magical items like the Sceptre of Sagaras.
That's right he made his opinions clear on the Alteraci. All he needs from them is their resources when he talked about it with Grok.