After the Hammer of Destruction withdrew, the Alliance arrived in Khaz Modan.
The Warchief didn't stop here to regroup with the Bleeding Hollow Clan, which did not disappoint Alaric.
Though it meant the Bleeding Hollow would temporarily hold off the Alliance, buying time for the Horde's main forces to retreat to a truly fortified stronghold, he had a plan in place.
That plan was to abandon pursuit of the Horde's main army for the time being and instead concentrate their forces to swiftly crush the Bleeding Hollow Clan, and rescue the Bronzebeard dwarves.
Though this would give Orgrim a brief moment to breathe, it also meant the Alliance would gain the help of the Bronzebeard clan.
Alaric was certain these dwarves were eager for vengeance against the Horde.
"Attack!"
Lothar shouted, drawing the massive Royal Greatsword he carried on his back, Quel'Zaram. The golden runes etched into the blade gleamed in the sunlight.
Alaric, wielding the Endless Blade, followed close behind. Beside him were Garona, Vereesa, Onyxia, and others, then came the human and high elf cavalry.
They charged up a wide road built into the snow-covered mountain range.
Near the summit, the stone had been polished smooth to form a massive wall. In some places, stone had been carved out to create windows.
At the top of a short staircase stood a pair of colossal gates, at least a hundred meters tall, and a sculpture of a sturdy dwarf came into view.
Above the gates arched a grand stone archway, upon which a giant anvil symbol had been carved. It was a breathtaking sight, this was the gate of Ironforge.
The heavy doors were now shut, and there was no other visible entrance. Yet this didn't stop the Horde.
They had rushed up and were now pressed against the gates and surrounding stonework, futilely trying to break through the dwarves' ancient defenses.
These orcs were now Alaric and the cavalry's target. They charged up to the end of the road, where a wide, snow-blanketed platform stretched before the gates.
The orcs turned around, startled, they had been too focused on their assault, and the howling winds through the mountains had masked the Alliance's approach.
Now they picked up their weapons to fight these new foes to the death. But the rearmost orcs hadn't even had time to face their attackers before they were struck down.
"Don't let up!" Lothar shouted. His sword severed one orc's arm, then split another down the middle. "Drive them against the stone wall!"
The cavalry obeyed, relentlessly pushing the orcs back with their lances. Behind them, mounted archers loosed a volley of arrows like a storm of locusts.
As the arrow rain advanced, the orcs were forced to retreat, anyone who didn't now looked like a pincushion.
Just as Lothar and Alaric had hoped, the Bronzebeard dwarves inside Ironforge were fully prepared by now.
With a short, deep sound, the massive black gates opened, and heavily armored dwarven warriors poured out.
They wielded warhammers, battle axes, and muskets, attacking the orcs from the rear.
Caught in a pincer attack, the orcs were swiftly crushed.
"On behalf of the Bronzebeard dwarves, I express our deepest gratitude for your arrival."
After the battle ended, both sides regrouped. A dwarf in striking armor stepped forward and addressed Lothar.
"I am Muradin Bronzebeard, brother of King Magni."
His thick beard was the exact color his name implied, and the notches on his axe showed the marks of many battles.
"You're the humans from the North… and even elves! We truly thank you."
"Anduin Lothar, commander of the Lordaeron Alliance," Lothar introduced himself, extending a hand. Muradin's grip was just as strong as expected.
"Glad to help. We share the same goal, to purge these lands of the Horde and all their forces." The dwarves of Ironforge would answer your call.
"Yes, yes, it should be that way," Muradin nodded in agreement. Then he frowned slightly. "Alliance? Are you the ones who sent a letter months ago? From Lordaeron?"
"That's right," Lothar said, suddenly realizing King Terenas must have sent word here as well, just like he had to Quel'Thalas.
Clearly, the ruler of Lordaeron didn't want to lose contact with any potential ally.
"We've united for that very reason."
"In fact, if you wait a bit longer, you'll see your Wildhammer cousins arrive as well," Alaric added.
"They're also part of this Alliance, and by the way, I'm Sandor Maverick, a mage and an advisor to the Alliance."
"Really? That's wonderful," Muradin smiled warmly. "I haven't seen them or their gryphons in ages. Thank you, mage."
"What are you planning next?" another dwarf asked, stepping forward to join the conversation.
His face was leaner than Muradin's but bore a similar look and beard color.
"My brother, Brann," Muradin explained.
Alaric recognized him at once, Brann Bronzebeard, founder of the Explorers' League and the greatest explorer in Azeroth.
In the original lore, it was Brann's endless travels and discoveries that revealed one Titan relic after another, solving many of Azeroth's hidden crises.
Yet Alaric had always had mixed feelings about the guy. The reason was simple: Brann was also a magnet for trouble.
In Titan ruins, he'd often touch things he shouldn't, summon bosses left and right, and leave players to clean up the mess.
Now, seeing him in person, Alaric suddenly felt an odd sense of warmth.
"We're chasing down the remaining Horde," Lothar answered. "We've wiped out most of their forces by land and sea. Now we plan to eliminate the rest and end this war."
The two brothers exchanged a look and nodded.
"We'll assist you," Muradin declared.
"Our kin will continue fighting in these mountains to reclaim our ancestral strongholds and ensure no orc remains in Khaz Modan."
He chuckled. "But we'll also send some of our lads to join your Alliance, to make sure the Horde never becomes our shared burden again."
"We gladly accept your help," Lothar said sincerely.
Back in Stormwind, he'd seen the Bronzebeard dwarves once or twice. Their strength and resilience had left a strong impression.
If they fought anything like their Wildhammer cousins, they would be a priceless addition to the war effort.
"Good. We'll send word to our brother and begin gathering supplies," Muradin slung his battle axe over his back and looked around. "Which way did the Horde flee?"
Lothar glanced over his shoulder, at Alaric, who stood there, lost in quiet thought.
Alaric shrugged and smiled, pointing south.
.
.
.
Guys, do leave some power stones and reviews.
✌patreon.com/bobthewriter✌
If you guys enjoy this story, you can support me on Patreon and get access to 30 Advance Chapters, it really helps me to work on new chapters.