Ripples of Shadow
Chapter 5 - The Lines Are Drawn

There was only one word to describe the mood in Warsong Hold; anxious. Tasilyna stepped warily in this place, despite being hailed a ‘hero’ by the Warsong honor guards. This massive, resolute fortress was constructed as a base of operations in southwestern Northrend for the Horde. Steel towers reached hundreds of spans into the air, linked with walkways to provide sentries with a view of the landscape that covered for leagues into the horizon. The Hold itself was immensely intimidating. A massive archway of steel and stone provided the main entrance at the southern end of the fortress.

Tasilyna stepped warily as she followed her sister and their guide into Warsong Hold proper. Inside the Hold, hammers rang on steel, and forges howled with fire. Blacksmiths crowded along the eastern rooms, weapons and armor lining racks nearby. Outside the gates, the Nerubians launched a tireless assault from both the ground and air against the Horde defenders. Tasilyna shuddered. The nerubians resembled giant insects, and they were an ancient race that had survived for countless millennia with cousins scattered throughout the Twisted Nether. They had also, seemingly resisted the effects of the Burning Legion’s wrath on Azeroth.

To make matters worse, the Nerubians were not the only force threatening the Horde’s tedious foothold here. The Scourge had assembled a massive army to the southwest. It seemed poised, on the brink of attacking. Like a lion coiled on its haunches, waiting for the ripest moment to pounce.

“…however that is not our only option. There is of course the matter of a truce with the alliance at Valiance keep, if only tempo-“ 

“Truce with the Alliance?!” Tasilyna broke in, ripping herself from her quiet ruminations. Her sister, and their guide; a grizzled old orc with barely any white hair still clinging to his head, turned to face her. “Forgive my interjection, Holgar, please continue.

“Yes, well. As I was saying, High Overlord Saurfang has been attempting to convince Garrosh Hellscream to propose a treaty to the Alliance, if only temporary.” His voice dropped dramatically low towards the end, Tas had to strain her ears to hear the last, and she suddenly realized why. Holgar had led them into the innards of the Hold. They had ascended a flight of stairs and were standing in some sort of anteroom that connected to a large vaulted hall directly in front of them. Holgar paused, eyes darting to two large orcs in the center of that room. They were both looming over what looked to be maps of the surrounding area. He pointed to the one on the left, with a green skin tone. “That there is Saurfang himself, and to his right,” he pointed at the other orc, this one with a more brown skin town. “And that is Garrosh Hellscream himself, son of Grom Hellscream.” His voice held utmost of reverence while pointing out both of the orcs, and to no wonder. Grom Hellscream was the legendary hero of the Horde whom had slain Mannoroth the Destructor, with the aid of Thrall. With the death of Mannoroth came the release of the entire orc race from their demonic bloodlust.

“I see…” Tasilyna kept her voice low as well, glancing at her sister who shook her head slightly.

“Saurfang is a wise veteran, but he must be a fool to think that the alliance would agree to any sort of cease-fire. Especially now with Varian Wrynn’s new obsession with the utter decimation of the entire orc race.” Eleirysa shook her head again, swaying her white hair. “No, they would see it as some sort of ploy, and refuse. Or worse, mount an offensive if they knew we were in dire straights.” Eleirsya looked from Holgar to Tas and back to Holgar again. “If you would Holgar, please lead us to the Wyvern nests. We must make haste to Dalaran and can afford no further delays.”

The old orc grunted, and led them up a set of semi-circular ramps that wound to the top of the fortress. It truly was a breath-taking sight. All of the Borean Tundra lay below. A wasteland of broken land and deserted farms, the tundra truly was a desolate war-riddled place.

Tasilyna could see the precarious position that the Horde were in here. Just from glancing at the map that spread between the two great orcs below, she had memorized it, and a small tidbit of their discussion. The horde had no shipping lanes on this side of the continent, and to make matters worse, the rugged land that separated them from reinforcements was filled with Alliance, bandits, and minions of the Blue Dragonflight.