Unlike Orgrim, Grom is known in the world of Draenor for his madness and bloodlust. Pen ~ fun ~ Pavilion www.biquge.info In the war between the orcs and the Draenei, he once fought alone in the enemy line and tore hundreds of Draenei's garrisons to shreds with his own hands. Not only was he the first to take the lead in drinking the potions that would make the orcs stronger, but Zuhd also vaguely knew that after feeling the powerful and violent power, Grom had asked Gul'dan alone to ask for the puree of the green potion.

Just drinking a hundredth concentration of dilution has already made Zuhed's mood dozens of times more irritable than before, not to mention the grom who drank the puree. During the assault on Shattrath, the capital of the Draenei, Grom alone killed hundreds of Draenei garrisons. As long as there is no one on the battlefield who is his opponent, bloodshed, wounded and angry will only make him stronger.

Sensing the murderous aura in Grom, Zuhd finally gave up the idea of speaking for his people—there were only dwarves in that fortress anyway—Zuhd told himself. But in fact, what really made him chill was that he didn't have the courage to say a word in front of the current Grom.

At the head of the fortress of Dammmod, Arthas hides behind a battlement, flanked by a nervous Mograini, Frost Sorrow crouching on the ground and drawing circles, and the High Elf ranger Winlesa, who is dutifully doing his duty and taking on the task of watching. "Your Royal Highness Prince Arthas, it's too dangerous here, let's go down there. Mograini insisted on persuading Arthas to leave the city - although Mograini was confident in his fighting skills, it was a battlefield after all, and he was not completely sure that Arthas would be safe.

"Oh, you're so annoying, can't you be quiet?" Whoever speaks in this tone is naturally our most impolite Miss Frost Sorrow. The little magic sword had long been impatient with his mother-in-law's Mograine, and while grimacing, he said confidently: "As long as Xiaoshuang is there, no one wants to hurt the master!"

Arthas gave Mograine a "don't worry" look, Mograini had no choice but to try his best to lower his body, and at the same time use himself to cover Arthas - even so, Mograini was a little apprehensive in his heart - in order to cooperate with Danas's battle plan, Mograini could not use the golden holy shield now, which made him have little confidence in his current defense. Mograini was not afraid of getting hurt, he was worried about the safety of Arthas.

Wen Lesa, who was hiding behind the battlements that was nearly one person tall and looking out, suddenly shook her body, retracted her head, and whispered to Arthas: "There is movement, sure enough, a group of orcs are coming!" Hearing this, Arthas also poked out half of his head and looked out of the city wall.

The physical disparity between humans and the High Elves was so great that Arthas could only see the shadowy, fast-moving virtual image in the distance outside the fortress. At this time, the "lady in white" has completely fallen into the horizon, the sun has not yet risen, only the "blue child" is trying, trying to illuminate the earth with his own light, but in vain.

This was the darkest hour before dawn, and it was also the first head-on confrontation between humans and orcs since the remnants of the Stormwind Kingdom crossed north to Lordaeron. As nearly a hundred orc warriors approached the fortress of Dammmod, Arthas could see even the fangs in their mouths, the rudimentary weapons in their hands, the rusty plate armor, and the pale yellow saliva that flowed from them. A stream of heat rushed through Arthas's skin, and tiny pimples shivered on his white flesh—it was a warrior, a paladin of the Knights of the Silver Hand, the blood of a young soldier boiling.

But this is not a war in Alsace, he is still too young. Knowing that he was only a drag on the others, Arthas silently retreated to the side of the fortress near the wall, and several soldiers from Fort Rapids filled Arthas's place, along with Mograine and the others who had withdrawn with him.

The commander of the battle, Danas Torbairn, was at the head of the city not far from Arthas, quietly watching the orc vanguard that was already running under the walls. Ricks, the lieutenant of the Fort Riptide militia regiment, stood behind his own prince and marshal, engrossed, waiting to deliver the orders of the prince marshal.

Danas's men, nearly 5,000 men, were all scattered over the city and in position in defensive positions. More than 3,000 infantrymen, armed with shields and one-handed swords, hid behind the battlements, while more than 1,000 archers, leaning against the inner walls, waited quietly for the order to bend their bows.

The sound of "whooshing" is particularly eye-catching in a lonely city. Thick ropes were tossed from under the fortress to the top of the city, and were quickly straightened from the lower ends, and improvised iron or even wooden claw-shaped heads were made to hook the battlements of the fortress of Dammod.

Although at this time, no one would poke their heads out to look out in order not to expose the state of the city, but all the human warriors understood that the orcs had begun to climb towards the city. Danas silently recited three numbers in his mind, shook his head, and sighed—this group of orc vanguards was still too few in number, not enough, far from enough, and still too few compared to the intense anger of humanity eager to avenge their fellow citizens.

As Danas's right hand suddenly raised, and then swung down fiercely, Ricks's slightly broken roar sounded on the top of the city: "Cut the rope!" As soon as the order was reached, the soldiers close to Danas, with their sharp one-handed blades in their hands, slashed at the ropes used by the orcs to climb the city wall, and some militiamen used too much force, causing the blade to still castrate after cutting the ropes, and collided with the bluestone city wall fiercely, stirring up a little spark in the dark dawn.

With the sound of heavy objects falling to the ground, a scream rang out under the walls outside the fortress. The soldiers who were far from the center of the city were a little slower to react, but at regular intervals along the walls, there was a sentry who was responsible for carrying orders. Therefore, the city wall was quickly reminded of the shouts of "cut the rope", and the thud of heavy objects falling to the ground, and the terrible howls of the orcs when they fell to their deaths, also came and went.

Of course, not every orc had fallen under the walls, and some of the swift orcs had climbed to the top of the city before the order to cut the rope arrived, but what awaited them was not a drunken dwarf who had fallen to the ground as had been promised, but a heavily armed Riptide Castle militia with anger in his eyes.