by Blizzard
Faol instructed his paladins to live simple lives. They would seek no fortune or glory in war. Until the end of their days, they would put the needs of others above their own.
As training progressed, Faol presented a set of enchanted librams to the paladins. These holy tomes were some of the church’s most ancient relics. Each libram represented what Faol saw as a core trait of the Silver Hand: retribution, holiness, protection, justice, and compassion.
Faol gave one libram to each of the paladins. He challenged his students to become living embodiments of what their holy tomes represented. Turalyon would hold the Libram of Protection; Uther would hold the Libram of Justice; Tirion would hold the Libram of Retribution; Saidan would hold the Libram of Holiness; Gavinrad would hold the Libram of Compassion.
Lothar often checked in on the emergent Order of the Silver Hand. He was so pleased by what he saw that he asked for Turalyon and Uther to serve as his lieutenants.
Faol was happy to accommodate the supreme commander, but he did not release the paladins from his care yet. It would be weeks before they were ready to set foot on the battlefield.
South of Lordaeron, Alexstrasza the Life-Binder and her red dragons continued searching for who had stolen the Demon Soul. Their investigations eventually led them to the orcs.
Alexstrasza and her kin arrived just in time to witness the Horde’s brutal assault on Khaz Modan. Though the Life-Binder longed to aid the dwarves and the gnomes, finding the Demon Soul was paramount. The artifact contained the powers of every Dragon Aspect except for Deathwing. If it fell into the wrong hands, it could spell the doom of not only dragonkind but the whole world.
Alexstrasza soon discovered that the Demon Soul was in the care of an orc known as Nekros. He and his Dragonmaw clan were experimenting with the artifact and abusing its power. Alexstrasza and her followers descended on Nekros, expecting little resistance. Such a primitive creature could never unlock the Demon Soul’s secrets.
The dragons were wrong.
Unbeknownst to Alexstrasza and her allies, Nekros had learned much about the artifact from dreams and visions sent by Deathwing. The black Dragon Aspect had taught the orc of the Demon Soul’s true power, and he had instructed him in how to wield it. The greatest knowledge Deathwing had shared with Nekros was that the relic could be used to enslave Alexstrasza and other Dragon Aspects.
Nekros called on the Demon Soul’s fury, and the artifact seared the Life-Binder with excruciating pain. Alexstrasza plummeted from the sky and slammed into the mountains outside Khaz Modan. Nekros then bent the Demon Soul’s power to enslave the Life-Binder, and the rest of the Dragonmaw orcs swarmed over the enormous creature and bound her in chains.
Though the Demon Soul could also be wielded against other dragons, Nekros was but one orc, and his knowledge of the artifact was limited. He knew he would never be able to use the relic’s power on Alexstrasza and her followers at once, and so he focused his attention on the Life-Binder. The red dragons could do little to help their queen. Every time one of them swooped down toward the orcs, Nekros lashed Alexstrasza with the Demon Soul’s extraordinary power. He did not speak the language of dragons, but his message was clear: when the dragons attacked the orcs, Alexstrasza suffered great pain.
By enslaving Alexstrasza, Nekros effectively bound the red dragons to his will. The creatures feared that if they did not obey the Dragonmaw, Alexstrasza would be tortured or even killed.
Word of the Dragonmaw’s feats spread throughout the Horde. No one was more pleased by the news than Warchief Doomhammer. He now had another potent weapon in his arsenal. Yet it would take time to reliably control the dragons and use them in the heat of battle.
Doomhammer commanded Nekros and the Dragonmaw to take control of Grim Batol, a remote fortress in the mountains east of the Wetlands. This dilapidated stronghold had once belonged to the Wildhammer dwarves, but the clan had abandoned it long ago.
Nekros and his followers chained Alexstrasza in Grim Batol’s depths. They also forced the other red dragons who had been with the Aspect to accompany them, threatening to hurt the Life-Binder if they disobeyed. On Draenor, the Dragonmaw had mastered the art of training winged rylaks as battle mounts. They would do the same with their fearsome captives in Grim Batol.
THE CURSED STRONGHOLD
Grim Batol was a haunted place. Centuries ago, a war between the Dark Iron and the Wildhammer dwarf clans had raged deep within the city. The Dark Iron sorceress Modgud called upon dark powers to overwhelm Grim Batol’s defenders. Though the Wildhammers eventually killed her and drove out the Dark Irons, their home was never the same. Modgud had cursed the city upon her death, leaving it corrupted forever. The Wildhammers established a new home in a majestic region called the Hinterlands.
While the orcs set to work crafting harnesses and saddles, Nekros kept watch over Alexstrasza. The Life-Binder vowed to destroy the orc for what he was doing, but her threats were hollow. As long as Nekros had the Demon Soul, he was untouchable.
During her imprisonment, Alexstrasza began laying new clutches of eggs. Nekros was quick to see this development as a golden opportunity. If his clan could successfully hatch the eggs, the orcs could raise the dragon whelps as the Horde’s loyal servants.
From afar, Deathwing rejoiced in Alexstrasza’s enslavement. He continued subtly advising Nekros on how best to use the Demon Soul to control the red dragons. Giving the Horde such powerful weapons served Deathwing’s plans to restore his black dragonflight, but there was an added benefit. He knew that it would break the Life-Binder’s heart to see her kin used as tools of war.
And he would relish every moment of Alexstrasza’s torment.
As the Horde was bolstering its forces, so, too, was the Alliance. Lothar had the full might of the human nations at his command, but he would take no chances against the Horde. He sought help wherever he could, including from the ancient and powerful high elves of Quel’Thalas.
Long ago, humans and elves had fought a bloody war against the Amani trolls. Only by uniting had Quel’Thalas and Lothar’s ancestors triumphed over their enemies. Following the victory, the high elves swore an oath to the human king Thoradin: if he or any of his bloodline ever required aid in the future, Quel’Thalas would give it without question. Lothar carried Thoradin’s blood, and he beseeched the high elves to make good on their ancient pact.
Lothar’s call to war was met with mixed feelings in Quel’Thalas. The high elf king, Anasterian Sunstrider, had heard rumors about strange creatures in the south, but he did not consider them a threat. He sent only a small elven fleet to the Alliance, commanding the rest of his forces to stay in Quel’Thalas. Not everyone did. The highly skilled ranger-captain Alleria Windrunner disobeyed her king’s orders and brought a handful of her fellow elves south. She believed the Horde was a much greater danger than most of her kin did, and she was determined to see what the orcs could do with her own eyes.
Though Lothar was disappointed with the small number of elves who joined the Alliance, he didn’t show it publicly. He welcomed them with open arms. The rangers in particular would serve a much-needed role as archers, scouts, and mobile support troops.
The elves arrived in Hillsbrad Foothills by sea just as dire news reached Lothar. Like most members of the Alliance, he had expected the Horde to invade the north by crossing the Thandol Span, an effort that would have taken many more months. Yet human scouts reported that the orcs had constructed a fleet, and they were poised to set sail.
The invasion would happen much sooner than Lothar had anticipated.
Lothar urged the rest of the Alliance’s armies to gather in Hillsbrad Foothills, the most likely place the Horde would make landfall. To waylay the orcish fleet for the time being, the supreme commander called upon Admiral Daelin Proudmoore and the Alliance navy.
Warchief Doomhammer had not expected to keep his fleet a secret forever. When he learned that human scouting ships had spied his vessels, he made no change to his plans. Construction on
the Horde fleet had finished, and he commanded his troops to board. Orgrim believed the Horde would reach southern Lordaeron before the humans could muster a proper defense.
The advantage would be small, but Orgrim had learned from a lifetime of warfare that small advantages often meant the difference between victory and defeat.
Hundreds of orcish ships, laden with supplies and thousands of soldiers, sliced through the roiling sea. Their journey was not uncontested. Near the island of Zul’Dare, Admiral Daelin Proudmoore and the Alliance navy intercepted the Horde fleet.
When Proudmoore found the crude Horde ships, it was akin to a wolf crossing paths with an injured lamb. The admiral hailed from the island nation of Kul Tiras, and he’d spent his entire life on the high seas. His experience in maritime warfare had no equal in the world.
Proudmoore’s sleek vessels outmaneuvered the Horde fleet even quicker than he’d anticipated. The first Alliance cannon volley blew orcish ships to pieces. Dozens of transports sank, and the churning waves swallowed their crews. Proudmoore soon realized that he could destroy the entire Horde army at sea. He could end the war against the Alliance before it even started.
Perhaps he would have, if not for the arrival of dragons.
Doomhammer had known that the humans were better equipped for battle at sea. That was why he’d ordered Nekros and the Dragonmaw clan to supply aerial support in the form of red dragons.
At first, Nekros had protested. His orcs had not yet trained the dragons to be suitable battle mounts. Yet after Doomhammer pressured him, Nekros relented. He dispatched three red dragons to guard the Horde fleet, threatening to torture Alexstrasza if they disobeyed.
Reluctantly, the dragons had followed the orcish ships from a distance. When Proudmoore’s navy attacked, they finally revealed themselves. The enormous creatures dove from the sky and bathed the Alliance fleet in fire.
Proudmoore had no means to fend off the dragons, though small in number they were. The admiral called for a full retreat, and his ships scattered.
With Admiral Proudmoore’s fleet scattered, the Horde continued to Hillsbrad Foothills and made landfall uncontested. The Alliance’s defenses were sparse. Though the majority of the Alliance forces had reached Hillsbrad, they were in disarray.
The orcish army stormed ashore, but the red dragons who guarded the Horde’s fleet refused to follow them. Nekros had stayed in Grim Batol to watch over Alexstrasza, and he was not present to give the creatures new commands. He had ordered them only to protect the ships, and they would not kill any more humans than necessary. It was a small act of defiance, but it was all that the dragons could do without endangering Alexstrasza.
Orgrim did not press the issue. He left the dragons where they were and marched inland. He planned to cross the Alterac Mountains to reach Capital City. It would be a difficult journey, but it was the quickest way to strike at Lordaeron.
Lothar anticipated this plan. From a military standpoint, Lordaeron’s capital was a target that was too good to resist. Its fall would breed division and throw the rest of the Alliance into chaos. Lothar would not let that happen. He arrayed his tired troops across Hillsbrad to bar the northern and western routes to the capital. Lothar then rallied his soldiers as best he could, but his words had little effect. He could see the fear in their eyes. This was the first time most of the humans had ever seen the hulking orcs. They were things born of nightmare.
Fortunately for Lothar, the paladins had finished their training. The holy knights rode through the Alliance lines, their presence filling their fellow soldiers with hope and courage.
The Horde’s war drums sounded, and the howling mass of green-skinned warriors charged north. They smashed into the human lines with war cries on their lips and oiled blades in hand.
For the first time in history, the full might of the Horde and the Alliance armies clashed. Alleria and her high elf rangers thinned the Horde’s ranks with bow and arrow, while Lothar fought beside his paladins. Elsewhere, Khadgar and other magi unleashed their arcane powers on the approaching orcs.
The Second War had begun.
Amid the fighting, a corrosive fog crept over the battlefield. From the fetid mists, slain human soldiers rose from the dead and then launched themselves at their former comrades. At the head of this unholy army were a handful of hooded figures riding skeletal steeds.
The death knights had entered the field.
They charged through the stunned human army, inflicting pain and terror on their enemies. Orgrim watched the attack with a mix of displeasure and satisfaction. He was still uneasy about the death knights, but he now saw just how effective they were in combat.
The mere sight of the death knights horrified the humans, and the Alliance lines began to crumble. It was then that a blazing white light appeared from Uther, Turalyon, and the other paladins. Waves of holy energy rippled over the Alliance soldiers, striking down the reanimated human corpses and sweeping away the death knights’ corruptive fog.
ALLIANCE PALADINS AND OTHER SOLDIERS BATTLE THE DEATH KNIGHTS
The paladins called upon their holy powers to mend wounded soldiers and ease their fearful hearts. Filled with renewed confidence, the Alliance regrouped and slammed down on the orcish front lines like a hammer.
Sporadic battles broke out in Hillsbrad. The Horde and the Alliance were evenly matched, but Doomhammer knew that would not last forever. The longer the orcs stayed in Hillsbrad, the more time the Alliance had to call in reinforcements from their far-flung territories.
The human army was protecting the quickest routes to Lordaeron’s capital. Doomhammer’s only course of action was to go east and find another way to the city. For this, he called on the Amani trolls. They knew the mountainous terrain well. The trolls agreed to guide the orcs, but they would not do so until Doomhammer made good on his promise to help them liberate their leader, Zul’jin.
Doomhammer had not forgotten his vow to free Warlord Zul’jin. Orc scouts had discovered the troll’s whereabouts in a prison camp near the human bastion known as Durnholde Keep.
As battles continued across Hillsbrad, Doomhammer himself led a raiding party to rescue Zul’jin. The prison’s defenders stood little chance against the warchief and his battle-hardened soldiers. After freeing Zul’jin, Doomhammer invited him and the rest of his people to join the Horde.
At first, Zul’jin balked at the proposal. He was warlord of the great Amani. He would answer to no one but himself. Doomhammer was quick to allay Zul’jin’s fears about leadership. If the Amani pledged themselves to the Horde, they would not become servants. Zul’jin would retain full control over his people. He and Doomhammer would stand as equals against their enemies.
Doomhammer finally won Zul’jin’s support with an offer: if the Amani committed their forces to the Horde, the orcs would help them annihilate their rivals, the high elves of Quel’Thalas.
Attacking Quel’Thalas meant moving farther north from Lordaeron’s capital than Doomhammer wanted. It was a risk, but a necessary one. The battles at Hillsbrad had taught Doomhammer many things about the Alliance. For one, the paladins were a formidable force, equal to that of the death knights. To win, Doomhammer would need the Amani’s support.
Doomhammer ordered the Horde to turn east. His trusted lieutenant Varok Saurfang commanded a rearguard of Blackrock orcs to waylay the Alliance. This gave the rest of the Horde precious time to cross Hillsbrad and funnel through a narrow mountain pass and into a region known as the Hinterlands.
Though the land was rugged, the Horde moved quickly with help from the Amani guides. The trolls led the orcs on a path that would take them over the northern mountains and into Quel’Thalas. En route, Zul’jin rallied the local Amani trolls to his side.
All seemed clear until winged shadows appeared over the Horde. These were not dragons; they were gryphons, ridden by the region’s fearless Wildhammer dwarves.
From on high, they rained lightning and thunder down upon the Horde.
The H
interlands had long been home to the Wildhammer dwarves. From their mountain stronghold called Aerie Peak, they kept watch over the land. The Wildhammers were a tenacious people famous for their kinship with gryphons. Many of these dwarves were adept shaman, and they infused the power of lightning into weapons known as stormhammers.
The Wildhammers were also a fiercely independent people. Due to their penchant for isolationism, they knew nothing about the Horde or the battles raging in Hillsbrad. Only when the orcs marched into the Hinterlands did the dwarves learn of their existence.
The Wildhammer leader, Thane Kurdran, took action to protect his homeland. He and his bravest gryphon riders barreled down from the skies. They bombarded the Horde with their stormhammers and then ascended back into the safety of the clouds. Kurdran continually launched these devastating strikes and whittled away at the Horde’s strength.
The only battle-ready dragons currently at the Horde’s disposal were guarding its ships in Hillsbrad, and so the orcs had no means of countering the troublesome gryphon riders. Doomhammer could not continue north with the dwarves harassing his lines. The warchief led his soldiers in an assault on Aerie Peak, forcing Kurdran and his gryphon riders to converge on the capital.
As battle erupted outside the city, Orgrim and half of the Horde pulled back. They would continue north while the remainder of their army kept the dwarves occupied. Kurdran and his forces paid little attention to the retreating orcs and trolls. They were concerned only with defending Aerie Peak, not with chasing down the rest of the Horde.