Assembly

Duke wanted to swear a blue streak right then and there. Are you kidding me? The North Coast? Dammit! Historically, Orgrim's army never even went near that place!

Llane, sensing Duke's simmering displeasure, clapped an arm around his shoulder as they walked towards the Alliance Headquarters in Southshore. It was a four-story stone bunker, built just last month. From its perch, it overlooked the sea, yet was far enough away to be safe. More importantly, it was practically impregnable unless the enemy captured the two hills that flanked Southshore on either side.

And those two hills? Duke had fortified them early on, like a squirrel hoarding nuts for winter.

Looking at the sprawling map, Llane rattled off details like a seasoned auctioneer. "Actually, our forces here are pretty beefy too. Most of the troops will still gather right here. After all, the Alliance chose this spot because it's smack-dab in the center of the entire Eastern Kingdoms. We can ship troops to any corner of this continent faster than you can say 'zug zug!'"

"We've already got 50,000 veterans, 50,000 fresh recruits, and nearly 100,000 militiamen who've had some basic boot camp training. Of course, this is pretty much our entire nest egg. If we burn through all of them, Stormwind will be left with barely a man standing."

"What we're short on are cavalry and archers. Luckily, within three days, the Highland Knights and the 3rd Infantry Regiment of Stromgarde will arrive, giving us a thousand cavalry and six thousand light infantry. Almost at the same time, the Mountain Eagle Knights and the 2nd Mountain Infantry Regiment of Alterac will show up, also lightly equipped."

"In four days, Dalaran's Second Mage Regiment and their First and Second Infantry Regiments will arrive. As for Grand Duke Mograine of Lordaeron and General Abidis's Scarlet Crusade, they'll take at least ten days to get here."

After listening to Llane's rundown, Duke sighed. Considering the snail's pace of military mobilization in this era, this was already a remarkable feat of speed.

Don't let the "Highland Knights of Stromgarde" fool you into thinking they're stationed next door to the Thoradin Wall, between Arathi Highlands and Hillsbrad Foothills. It's less than a day's ride from east to west to Southshore.

In reality, moving an army was like herding cats in a hurricane, with a million things to do. The only reason this was happening so fast was because the orcs were breathing down their necks, and every kingdom was already on high alert. In peacetime, it would have taken forever and a day.

Similarly, Dalaran, northwest of Southshore, and Alterac, to the north, weren't exactly across the ocean. Fast horses could cover that distance in a day. Duke was lucky to get them so quickly. And these standing troops were the backbone of each country. If Duke easily wiped them out, it wouldn't be so easy to ask for more.

By November 5th, when the last scheduled batch of soldiers finally rolled into the massive barracks outside Southshore, the mountaintop command post was packed. Two commanders, seven big shots whose titles read "Admiral" but sounded like "King," and over thirty generals were crammed into the room.

Everyone was gushing over the military camp Duke had laid out in advance. A wide circle of wooden walls, arrow towers placed just right, and every military camp snuggled up to the river for easy water access. Plus, several wide roads were already planned for army maneuvers. With this setup, the generals practically felt like they were on a long-distance training exercise, not preparing for a bloody war.

Turalyon, Lothar's trusty lieutenant, took the floor to deliver the intelligence report to the assembled kings.

"First, the skinny from the Bronzebeard dwarves. Ironforge is still under siege by nearly a hundred thousand orcs. Based on battle flag comparisons, the main force laying siege appears to be the Bleeding Hollow Clan of the Horde." Turalyon placed ten small orc figurines on the map, symbolizing ten thousand orcs each.

"Then there's the Thandol Bridge. After repeated reconnaissance by Stromgarde's Griffin Riders, we've confirmed no less than 50,000 orcs dug in there." Turalyon added five more orc figurines to the bridge.

"Lastly, the Wetlands. According to reconnaissance by the Nagas and murlocs led by Vice Commander Edmund, over 200,000 orc laborers have constructed at least 20,000 transport ships on the southern coast. A small transport ship can carry about 30 orc warriors, and a medium-sized one about 100. No large ships have been spotted on their side yet."

"And we've confirmed the banners of the major clans in the Horde camp in the Wetlands: Blackrock, Warsong, Fireblade, Dragonmaw, Stormreaver, Duskhammer, and Blackscar. Including the orc laborers, the total number of the Horde is conservatively estimated at over 600,000."

Fortunately, the map was massive, a full three meters by three meters, otherwise the small area of the Wetlands wouldn't have been able to hold sixty orc sculptures.

"Whoa—" Even though they knew the orcs were a force to be reckoned with, hearing the sheer numbers made the leaders gasp. "All the troops in Southshore combined only add up to a little over 200,000!"

"What are you afraid of?" Admiral Daelin scoffed, puffing out his chest. "If all their ships are just glorified rafts, even if there are ten times more of them, I, Kul Tiras, can sink every last one without the Alliance lifting a finger!"

Indeed, even though Duke had expanded the Southshore dock again and again, with five stone piers stretching like fingers nearly 150 meters from the coast, it still couldn't accommodate all the ships.

Through the fortress windows, the kings gazed out at the sea. Proudmoore's ships weren't just parked everywhere; they were moored along the entire coastline, from nimble scout ships to standard destroyers, all the way up to colossal warships over a hundred meters long. With the ebb and flow of the waves, a forest of masts rose and fell on the horizon.

And get this: these were only the First and Third Fleets of Kul Tiras, plus the Storm Fleet with its paltry hundred warships. There was also a Second Fleet patrolling the waters off the North Stream Coast, and Kul Tiras's native defense fleet hadn't even been deployed yet!

Every king felt a surge of pride, a sudden burst of confidence. How could anything, or anyone, stand against such a mighty armada?

No, not just the fleet! After the initial shock and discomfort, the tactics of both sides began to take shape, and the casualty ratio for the human side started to plummet. From the initial bloodbath of ten human soldiers for every orc warrior, it had now dropped to a mere two or three. If the human soldiers were well-organized, even in a pitched battle on open ground, a hundred fully armed human soldiers could easily rout a hundred orc warriors.

But then, Lothar unconsciously recalled a chilling scene – he saw again, in his mind's eye, the remaining tribes capturing the Redridge Mountains' defenses, sweeping through Elwynn Forest, and massacring the entire Kingdom of Stormwind.

It was a green ocean, a tide of destruction that no one could truly stem!

Lothar took a deep breath, his expression hardening with renewed resolve. Stormwind used to be weak, but now the Alliance army was many times stronger than the old Stormwind. They could contain the Horde's relentless offensive.