For nearly eleven years, Lordaeron has been held by the Forsaken. Eleven years where it was genuinely questioned if the living would ever again stand in the halls of the once great city as its friends and rulers. For over a decade, the spiteful dead held those halls where they plotted with their Horde allies, preventing those who wanted peace and reconciliation from having their way.
Anduin now stood with the city's dim lights just on the horizon. From where he stood, the city of Lordaeron almost looked like a strange parallel of Stormwind. His home from the distance, particularly from the sea, was a glow of golden firelight with undertones of blue. Lordaeron was a darker red with undertones of green that Anduin could see as the night pressed onward. He would soon have to sleep, but had been using the light to keep himself from needing to sleep too much, cutting the usual six to eight hours down to four for the purpose of leading this war. Because now was a vital time, Hammond and Volkmar were both claiming so, though Genn seemed rather dismissive, telling Anduin to instead rest and leave everything to his subordinates.
No, the Alliance and Horde were not locked in battle—well, not here in the fields of Tirisfal—but a conflict instead of preparations was now taking place. For five days, the Alliance rushed to bring forward their forces from the beaches. They also were fortifying the burnt down remains of Brill while their Horde counterparts struggled to deny the Alliance their supplies and tried to kill lone groups of Footmen or Adventurers, sometimes even being brazen enough to launch assaults on the Gnomish war machines or to attack an arcane brotherhood, hunt after members of the Paladin orders, or even attack the various other groups that had attached themselves to the campaign.
Ultimately, it was a race of preparations. Both Anduin and Sylvanas had a limited amount of time, supplies, and maneuvers they could perform before they would be forced to battle. Something that, if Anduin had to be honest, he was dreading. How would he know if he was prepared enough? Would his heart be hardened enough for when the moment came? Had he given Sylvanas too much time to prepare?
Anduin needed to know; he needed something to tell him to prepare his spirit for the moment he would give the order and turn the entire city of Lordaeron into a battlefield. Sky Admiral Rogers was waiting and growing impatient; the Gnomes were still behind schedule, and yesterday's incident of one of their stores of war machines being infiltrated and turned against them put them even more behind schedule.
Anduin donned his helmet and left from Brill, marching on the road to the front, an honor guard close at his side. It took some hours on foot, plenty of time to think, for Anduin to reach the mainline of the Siege. Here towers and war machines were arrayed against the walls of Lordaeron. Camp fires and stern watchmen surrounded the camp while the city was just as bright, with a clear and determined watch waiting above. Inside the camp, General Hammond was coordinating the forces; the line of battle was drawing longer with every passing moment as fresh troops and machines arrived. Nearby, on a table lit by torchlight, Volkmar took notes and drew a few of the things he witnessed into another of his times. Philosophical musings passed his lips as he worked, noting everything for the benefit of his empire. The man made for a good histographer despite his claims otherwise.
"General." Anduin stated aloud, announcing himself, which started the distracted general, who immediately saluted while Volkmar made some respectful religious hand gesture towards Anduin in greeting. "How is our preparation proceeding? And what can you say about the city wall?"
The question was open to both Volkmar and Hammond, but Hammond was the first to speak. "We're still not fully ready for if an enemy force goes around our main line; however, if we attack, we should be able to pressure the wall, maybe even take it and press into the Undercity by day's end."
Anduin then turned to Volkmar expectantly. The older man sat starring at his book; the quill and inkwell soon met as the old man eventually set his work aside. But still he didn't answer, instead focusing on the city and muttered prayers crossing his lips, though Anduin was uncertain as to what the man was saying. Eventually the man looked to Anduin. "The city walls are thick, exceptionally so. While they might not be any taller than the walls of your own home city, they will be far harder for you to take. And it will take a full array of cannons a long time even with their fire focused on a single point, and even then, if the walls were to collapse, the debris will still block your way. Scaling the walls or striking down the gate should be your only option. And certainly your enemy knows this if this is their city, and its former defenders are now fighting within their ranks. However, if your zeal is great enough, I think your general's estimation is not too far from the truth. I only pray to my God, Sigmar, that your enemy is weaker than I expect."
Anduin nodded at the assent of the pair. "Then I will start preparing the troops. General, we will take the city the moment dawn breaks. Where should I go to organize the men?"
"To bed my king." General Hammond answered, a concerned smile on his face.
"The Light sustains me, General. I will be fine." Anduin replied, taking steps towards some supplies that he could perhaps hand out to the men.
"Light, magic, or potion, nothing will be better for you and our men than some good old common sleep. Trust me, knowing you're sleeping soundly and confident right before a battle will do the men's spirits wonders. Also, I'm sure Genn will bite my head off if he finds out you were up all night without me doing anything to make sure you could rest." Hammond countered with a warm smile, tossing a blanket to Anduin before pointing to a small cot set next to the table by Volkmar.
"What about you Volkmar?" Anduin asked, pressing for validation from the Imperial.
"My faith in Sigmar drives me beyond the limits of my body; it is second to my duty to him. But I also won't be a part of this battle, so I have no need to prepare or rest. I could perhaps sleep later; trust me, when I feel the need to sleep, nothing short of a daemon will wake me unless I allow it." Volkmar jested with a smile before retrieving his quill and setting back to work on his book.
So with reluctance but following the advice given, Anduin lay down and closed his eyes. It was several fitful moments before the King finally drifted to sleep; there visions assailed him despite the peaceful nature of his sleep. Scenes of bloodshed and slaughter played before his unconscious mind. Of Horde and Alliance killing one another, desperate warriors of unknown Pandarean-like armor clashing with Dwarves, Orc's fighting against corrupted cousins, and then dark warriors armored and driven by insanity led by monsters. And behind it all are laughing gods and the spite of a three-eyed king.
Sylvanas walked the walls of Lordaeron, her gaze occasionally going out to the Alliance battle lines. By this point, unfortunately, the battle was out of her hands. She had unleashed what few Skaven, Adventurers, and Deathstalkers she had on hand to scour the lower levels of the Undercity to route out the Alliance infiltrators, yet their reports had been of mixed results, and this had led to a delay in evacuating the civilians, which meant she would possibly have to delay deploying her special surprise for the Alliance. The Scarlet Monastery had launched some rather impressive raids against the Alliance but in turn drawn the Lion's ire, and now the Monetary was equally under siege, surrounded by spare guns and likely to be blasted to oblivion if Anduin actually had the courage to do what it took to win. Clan Pestilens was nearly in position to flood Tirisfal, but Wildhammer and Stormgarde troops would break through the defensive line to their rear and pursue them almost certainly shortly after. In fact, with how backwards the Pestilens were if not for their numbers that could rival the Qiraji and were excellent as chaff troops, far more even than their other Skaven allies.
This left the Gilneas ambush force; they had crossed Silverpine and were in position to meet the Alliance in the field, but those troops were actually vital; their presence on the battlefield couldn't be allowed for when she unleashed Lordaeron's secret against the Alliance. After all, despite how much she has learned and taken from her new 'allies,' their own creations were imperfect as they were, and her own versions were far from perfected.
Still, the rest of the Horde needed to be kept in good spirits, kept loyal. The Forsaken were loyal to the point of near fanaticism, though that loyalty was beginning to crack for some. But the rest of the Horde needed to see her strength, her vision, and her ability to lead them. Or else they would not follow her into this war, and her liberation would never be achieved.
The first step to address this was addressing the greatest check on her authority within the Horde. Varok Saurfang was a constant thorn in her side, more focused on honor rather than victory, dying well as opposed to making the enemy die instead, and making her peoples uphold a misguided spirit of atonement rather than keeping themselves from becoming spirits for things they should hold no shame over. What were a few hundred, few thousand victims in the face of victory and a better tomorrow?
After the War of the Thorns, Varok had increasingly drifted away from her influence. No longer trying to reason with Sylvanas but being a perpetual thorn in her side and being increasingly critical of her, of the Horde's actions, of the Horde itself for all she could see. And this was due to Varok's following of what were essentially cheering children, worshipping a faded warrior long past his time; they mimicked any deed and thought Saurfang had and allowed him to impress his view and will on not just the veterans who fought alongside him in his prime and the leaders who met with him privately to scheme behind her back, but also upon the commoners of every rank. Trolls basked in Saurfang's achievements; Orc's lauded his 'Honor'; Tauren bellowed of his peace; even her own Forsaken whispered of the Orc's deeds. So if Saurfang did something incredibly stupid, he was certain to have followers, and that would lead to unforgivable losses.
Varok was stationed on the wall overlooking the city's great gate and further beyond the Alliance forces still working late into the night to prepare their vast array of siege equipment. A brazier behind him burned with a soft light, warming the entire area immensely. "They'll be attacking at sunrise." The Orcish High Overlord stated with undeniable certainty as he leaned against the parapet.
Sylvanas stepped forward and joined the High Overlord, leaning against the parapet. "How do you know?"
Varok scowled. "I smell it, I see it, and I can hear it. The sense of the looming battle is all the way down to my bones."
"I want you to hold the Warchief's banner; when the battle begins, you shall raise it and all of us high, and with your cries and direction, we will crush the Alliance come the dawn." Sylvanas offered, a confident smile on her face as she glared down upon the living men and their allies below her. Men who would use her and have her kneel when she was in every way their better.
Saurfang scoffed. "You want to hide me away and use me as your tool."
Sylvanas was taken aback; she wanted to stop him from doing something stupid. She was offering him a tremendous offer, a visible position that came with a unique prestige, and on top of that... "I'm offering you command over the Horde Saurfang, over ME,for this battle. And yet you think I am using you, that I'm hiding you?"
"You would put me in the back, and you already know I am better on the front. Also, the course of this battle is already set; even if I were to give commands, your orders are almost certainly already in place." Saurfang stated with a growl in his voice.
Sylvanas pushed off from the parapet. "So what, Saurfang? You plan on wasting away, is that it? You're old; your years of glory have come and gone; new young blood warriors are certain to upstage you soon, maybe tomorrow! But you're valuable; the people look up to you; they seek your experience; they want to hear your words!"
"And there it is. You still need me. Your Horde needs the facade of legitimacy provided by the presence of High Overlord Saurfang serving alongside you." The High Overlord grumbled before sighing in resignation.
"It'sOUR Horde Saurfang. You swore yourself to it, both the old Horde and this one." Sylvanas reposted, venom in her voice.
"I swore myself to Thrall's Horde." Varok growled back.
"This is Thrall's Horde! He left; he couldn't handle the demands of leadership! I'm not asking you to rule; I'm asking you to serve the Horde!" Sylvanas struggled not to scream in Saurfang's face.
"My LIFE for the Horde." Varok hisses back at Sylvanas.
"Fine Saurfang, skulk in the darkness. Hide away where no one can find you. Your a fading star anyways." And thus the Banshee Queen, Warchief of the Horde, stormed away, leaving Saurfang alone with whatever dark and selfish thoughts the old Orc might be having, a necklace hanging from his grip in his hand.
Even without Saurfang's inspiration, she could still keep her troops motivated, and she could still keep the Alliance out of Lordaeron until the time was right. All she needed to do now was confirm that Baine would be supporting the rear lines, and a simple runner could do that. But now she needed to prepare her Dark Rangers. She would ensure that the stockpile of Black Arrows was ready to be distributed and secured with runners ready to resupply the Dark Rangers when needed. Markers had been subtlety prepared, marking the ranges for the Archers and for any gunmen among the Horde, allowing them all to perfect their aim against the furthest off of the Alliance troops as they would close on the city.
Nearly twenty minutes later, while she was inspecting the wall bastions, Sylvanas was approached by Nathanos Blightcaller, her favorite servant, who immediately set about giving his report. "My Queen, I have some changes to report. The Skaven Mortars are in place and concealed; neither Baine nor Varok noticed their placement. But also, representatives sent by Thanquol arrived; the Skaven wishes to prepare a magic ritual in the main courtyard of the palace."
Sylvanas didn't stop her inspection of Lordaeron's defenses while she answered Nathanos. "I thought the Grey Seer was in the Scarlet Monastery."
"Apparently he's looking to weasel his way out of the post to retreat back to Lordaeron. The Forsaken, who seems to have become his retainer, is actually very adamant about bringing Thanquol here." The champion of the Banshee Queen explained still standing at attention for his Queen.
"Trying to get rid of him?" Sylvanas asked with a hint of amusement.
"No, the retainer himself is already here. Also, I can't really place what sort of ritual it is that they want to prepare. The retainer showed me some of the icons, relics, and symbols they were to use for it, yet it doesn't match anything we've seen from the Skaven before." Nathanos answered his eyes, never leaving Sylvanas.
"Hmm, maybe we should use this retainer to our advantage. Who is he? What would it take for me to have him report everything Thanquol does to me?" Sylvanas mused as she, upon finding this bastion suitable, began to move to the next while checking the wall connecting the two bastions.
"Unfortunately, he's a relatively minor figure. Only deals with lesser adventurers, typically using them to support various rackets. They gave him the moniker 'The Headman' in the sewage districts. He's certainly a man of ambition, though not one who can not be bought. I think he overvalues himself though." This news only made Sylvanas chuckle as she entered the next bastion, the various Forsaken watchmen inside immediately leaping to attention, causing Sylvanas to swiftly lecture them, demanding they keep their focus on the enemy.
With a sigh, Sylvanas leaned back, resting her shoulder on the bastion structure wall while looking at Nathanos. "Sounds like a perfect agent, the type no one would honestly believe is on our payroll, on the surface too disloyal and self serving to be considered as anything more than a patsy for treasonous sabotage."
Nathanos nodded. "So about Thanquol and this ritual?"
Sylvanas waved her hand dismissively. "The risk is likely minimal compared to what we are already doing. Let the Rat play with his ritual. I'll be truly impressed if it amounts to anything of use for us."
"Yes, my Queen." With that, Nathanos glanced to the Horizon. "It seems dawn is closing quickly, my queen."
Sylvanas then nodded before answering. "Go alert the troops. We'll catch the Alliance in a surprise rain of fire when they near the walls."
"Right away, my queen." And immediately Nathanos stepped out to obey, allowing Sylvanas to focus on gauging the status of the bastion. However, it wouldn't be more than two minutes before Nathanos came rushing in.
"Sylvanas!" The once-human Dark Ranger gasped before grabbing the Banshee Queen and dragging her own of the bastion before silently pointing out past the main gate. Out there in the darkness of the earliest moments before the sun finally crested and dawn began, a single torch could be seen; Nathanos had seen it, and Sylvanas superior sight, guided by Nathanos guidance, easily found what had set the man so on edge. A single torch walked slowly and resolutely towards the Alliance lines. Varok Saurfang, stripped of his armor, was marching upon the Alliance in full open sight of everyone. If the man had wanted to die quietly, Sylvanas wouldn't have cared, but making such a display how many of her Horde would follow the lunatic's pursuit of 'honorable' suicide. She knew there was no honor in defeat, in death, only violation and disgrace, yet Varok wasted her soldiers, her time, and her good graces on his pursuit of honor, constantly thinking war could be settled by duels of champions.
But the mythos around Varok blinded the idiot pawns of that truth; if he cut his own throat open, there would be masses who would immediately follow after like the mindless idiots they were. Swiftly Sylvanas looked around; Varok was still being quiet; very few seemed to see him, let alone be able to identify the lone figure walking towards the Alliance lines. She pulled up her bow, a single Black Arrow ready to kill the High Overlord, allowing his corpse to finally be of use for Sylvanas tonight, at least maybe slowing the Alliance a few seconds without dragging her Horde down with him. But then there was another figure with Saurfang, a Troll youth, clear and visible, his harassment of Saurfang causing the Orc to shout, shoving him and showing his damned face to the city and almost certainly drawing more attention as well.
That damned youth had now killed countless numbers of her Horde. The moment Saurfang died, they would follow him blindly. Worse yet, horns began to blare, and shouted commands came from the Alliance encampment. Now her army had to be on the wall where they would certainly all see Saurfang fall, and how many of the fools would then open the gates for the enemy wanting to rush out and join Saurfang in fighting to the death in the open field. "Damned idiot doomed us all!" Sylvanas hissed, moving away from the dark corner instead running along the wall, rallying the defense, while Nathanos took up the duty of raising the Horde's banner in defiance of the Alliance even as their first guns were rolled into range and opened fire, each shot aimed to strike at the walls, even if the gesture was futile against the mighty walls of Lordaeron.
And so it was that the main battle of the Siege of Lordaeron began. Alliance made mechanized Siege towers pressed forward for the walls of Lordaeron, a space array of Gnomish combat mechs interspersed between each tower while a sea of silver, blue, and gold clad warriors pressed forward intent on scaling the city walls while defending the towers from Horde warriors who were quickly flooding out from the main gate joining Varok Saurfang in a spirited gate guard action outside the city gates, Goblin Shredders and reserve cannons were forced forward to aid the gate guards standing alongside Varok Saurfang who, Sylvanas noted as a positive in the whole bitter scenario, was donning his armor and stopping his fanatic followers from following his example by stripping off their own armor.
Genn stood next to Anduin, guarding the High King and advising him. Though he noted rather bitterly that Volkmar was invited to comment on the battle as the sun's light finally began to illuminate the battlefield. Still now, with the opening moves of the Siege, the entire Lordaeron campaign, this war, and the grand defeat of the Horde were certain. So Genn shouted some swift orders to another waiting formation before turning back to Anduin.
"My King, we have her cornered." Sylvanas had few moves left to herself, and they now had the rat pinned in her hole. Once the wall fell, it wouldn't be long until the Alliance could claim victory.
Next to Anduin, Volkmar frowned. "This battle is too straightforward. Your claims of Sylvanas' intelligence and the loyalty of her forces. The Empire would have our Electors, or other lords, coming to the air of a capital, while the vampires would have a dark scheme or monsters held in reserve. They will certainly be holding something to reap a toll against your men; you will need to have a hardened heart to pay the price for victory."
Genn growled lightly to himself. "We are more than prepared. And Sylvanas is cornered in multiple ways. If she uses her most potent weapons, she will be striking her own allies; on top of that, we have agents dismantling them as we speak. She can't make a move without turning the Horde against her, and we have her every possible move accounted for."
"If this is a clean war." Genn wasn't certain if Volkmar or Anduin had muttered that and chose not to respond in any way instead watching the Horde's desperate defense. Those outside the Horde's gate were taking on casualties almost as horrific as they were giving, and at this rate they'd soon be overwhelmed as the main body of Stormwind's Footmen reached them.
The crucial moments approached. As Siege tanks fired mortar rounds up to begin clearing the walls, the gate defenders were now being pressed on all sides as the first tower neared the wall, an entire block. Nearly fifty Footmen stood ready to rush up that tower alone in order to clear the city walls.
But then suddenly Sylvanas was there, leaping atop the first tower, Black Arrows digging deep into the first two Footmen and then striking down into the engine room, destroying the entire tower as Sylvanas form shifted, allowing the Banshee to drop down to ground level safely, where she unleashed an unnaturally loud warcry.
"For the Horde!" Echoed across the fields and off the walls of Lordaeron. In response, one of the Orcs, who was soon revealed as none other than Varok Saurfang, grabbed the remains of a broken banner and, with a roar pushed forward towards Sylvanas, who was surrounded by the victims of her Black Arrows, who now turned on the Alliance and were lashing out in mindless rage. And in a sudden instant, the impossible became manifest. Goblin Shredders rushed ahead, smashing into Gnomish Mechs and shattering them; Tauren and Orcs brushed aside Footmen and even shattered the mantlets the Footmen were bringing forward to cover their advance.
Soon the Horde's Gate force had broken between the next two closest towers. Shattering the fifty-man block between the two towers, the Horde achieved the impossible in just a few short minutes. As Footmen scattered in the face of the savagery of Sylvanas and Saurfang, they pushed forward for the Alliance camp, straight for Anduin and the Lion's Guard.
"Close ranks, fight together, don't let them through!" Genn shouted in order to the men.
"I shall go." Genn's ears perked back; if anyone could slow the Horde here, then the siege of the walls could still go smoothly rather than degrading into a field battle outside where the Horde's reserves and supplies were entirely secure while the Alliance's were not.
"Thank yo—" As Genn turned back, Volkmar completed his bow to Anduin and was raising a white flag while hastily retreating towards the rear of the camp. "Coward!"
"This isn't his war, Genn." Anduin stated, firmly stepping forward.
"This war will impact everyone and all worlds. He can't hide away from it while arrogantly proclaiming his empire." Genn growled, but Anduin only cast a glare through his helmet at the Gilnean King.
"Forward! We stop them here!" Anduin shouted as Draenei, Worgen, and even a few spare Kaldorei rushed forward to join the Footmen in combat. However, the Horde charge and the scattered nature of the Alliance's soldiers before Anduin could notice Orcs and Trolls were already upon the King. While the young King's Shalamayne struck down an orc that had aimed for him, he missed the troll shaman gathering lightning into his hands.
"Anduin!" Acting quickly, Genn grabbed Anduin and threw the King aside harshly, the young man hitting the ground and rolling just as the lightning struck Genn, the power like the Troll had put his everything into the one attack. Genn could feel his muscles spasm, then seize; even breathing became nearly impossible.
Genn collapsed to the dirt, his gaze locked on Anduin. "My King! Save... Y—" All breath left Genn as Anduin stripped off his helmet. A look of desperation on the Young King's face as a prayer passed his lips. Then suddenly a light glowed throughout the battlefield; dozens more men, even those who would have been beyond the power of a priest, rose again, their wounds sealing and fresh breath filling their lungs. Genn's own body relaxed and then soothed as strength returned to him along with his control.
Then Anduin raised Shalamayne and pointed the blade towards the enemy. "Stand as one! For the Alliance!" And with that roar from the High King, the Alliance soldiers about him roared, bunching together, joining shields and spears, and stepped forward to meet the charge of Orcs, Tauren, and Trolls head-on.
Orcs bashed human footmen aside only for another spear to cut open the Orc's spear or a blade to cut another's arm open. Tauren attempting to plow through the Alliance lines were met by Draenei, who would halt their advance, and the Night Elves matched the Trolls magic for magic and innate ability against decades-honed skills. For several minutes the two forces clashed, and as they battled, the siege towers closed on the walls before more got destroyed until only two remained, finally coming into contact with the wall, allowing Alliance troops to begin offloading onto the Horde walls while the built-in trebuchets fired into the city.
Anduin and Genn watched mere yards away from the fighting with Varok and Sylvanas in the thick combat. "We're already on your walls, Sylvanas! End this now, and we can negotiate. If you actually care about your Horde while you will pay for your crimes, and we won't harm them anymore!.
At the center of the Horde warriors, Sylvanas scoffed before answering the young king. "And deny them their future free of the Alliance ax handing over their heads? Insist on a future of shame being second to you? Surely you jest!" As Sylvanas mocked Anduin's cry for peace, the battle stop Lordaeron's walls intensified. Explosions rocked as Horde adventurers and Dark Rangers led by Nathanos Blightcaller began to push back against the Footmen with explosives and Black Arrows. The sight of which made Genn's hackles raise.
But even as the Horde pushed back the Alliance from their walls, new Gnomish Spider Tanks rushed forward. The so-called 'light weapons platforms' apparently were made for infantry skirmishing, and despite being entirely intuitive and rather crude, certain to fail against a talented scout or adventurer, they were certainly more durable and perfect for the current situation. The Spider Tanks unleashed sprays of automatic bullets. While these machines were incredibly stupid, some shooting into their Alliance allies, the lightly armored Horde warriors were shredded by the machines, allowing the Alliance to push back against them, all while Saurfang was dragged away from the battle by Horde warriors, and Sylvanas, in response to the machines, ordered a hasty retreat back into the city.
Anduin and Genn also then fell back to the Alliance camp, where Volkmar waited, and General Hammond assessed and commanded the overall siege. Before the Gilnean King could speak, the High King of the Alliance warmly treated both Hammond and Volkmar before turning to the general. "How is the siege going?"
"Roughly. I've abandoned my estimates from earlier. It seems there were some weaknesses in the siege tower designs we overlooked. Rather than breaking into the Undercity by tonight, at our current rate of progress, we'll now take three days." The Stormwind General stated matter-of-fact.
Genn growled. "That's unacceptable; that will give Sylvanas time to plot some new scheme!"
"It's too fast; your men are exposed and being pushed against a wall. I thought you cared for the survival of your soldiers." The baldheaded Imperial assessed from the side, earning a glare from Greymane.
"And what would you know? You just let your enemies plot and scheme and kill!" Genn barked at the man. "No wonder threats the Alliance has already bested have your entire world threatened."
"Genn! Volkmar is a guest of the Alliance; treat the man with respect." Anduin snapped at his fellow king. "Volkmar, I can understand if you're thinking of the lives of our men, but we both are pressed for time and have a different way of waging warfare here. It's thanks to our healers that often we and our enemies take greater risks because we can afford to suffer more grievous injuries. At least from what I understand from our various talks. This isn't going to be good, but it's our only option because the longer we delay, the more likely Sylvanas will find an opening to use horrific weapons against us."
With the High King's explanation, the older man nodded. "Still, you could end up crippling your Alliance if you proceed this way. From what I understand, this is the entirety of your kingdom's army, and many of your allies are risking troops here as well."
Anduin sighed. "That's why this battle needs to count. Even if we don't force a surrender, if we can secure all of Lordaeron and keep the rest of the Horde mainly contained to Quel'Thalas, that will keep the Horde threat distant, and with our foothold on Kalimdor winning, the war will become nothing more than a matter of time."
Reviews:
JiggyliFAP: unfortunately AI is still technically lower than the intelligence of a Ant despite its abilities as a tool. it'd be alot on work to have AI translate this into a visual format even in five years from now (AI was "supposed to be twice as good as now a decade ago, but suprise suprise, consciousness and basic animal intelligence are far beyond our current crude understand and replication via code)
yes but with the potals thats quite the chokepoint for skaven, will take 20 years and some breeders.