Chapter 131: The Battle of Sintland (Part Two)

When Kordran received the report from the frontline scout, a scowl of frustration darkened his face. He could not fathom how the Horde’s vast army had appeared deep within the heart of the Hinterlands.

The humans were locked in fierce combat with the orcs across the hills, while the Horde’s naval and ground forces advanced from two separate directions toward Southshore, clashing with Turalyon and Lothar. Uther and Turalyon had repelled several orcish charges, yet the beasts still prowled the Hillsbrad foothills.

According to intelligence from the Kingdom of Lordaeron, the Horde’s massive army was an unstoppable force. They had already laid waste to Stormwind, and now, suddenly appearing in the Hinterlands, their intent was clear: to break through the Hinterlands directly into Hillsbrad, striking at the core of the Lordaeron alliance’s forces. This would allow them to encircle the two armies currently engaged with the humans, annihilating the united human forces in a single decisive blow.

At present, the mountain fortress of Aerie Peak blocked the march of this destructive horde. Kordran dared not imagine what would happen if the city fell. The homeland that the Wildhammer dwarves had discovered a millennium ago would be destroyed once more, leaving his people with no refuge, no place to survive.

“Furstad, send riders on gryphons immediately to Hillsbrad to seek out the Alliance commander, Sir Anduin Lothar. The humans have completely misjudged the Horde’s assault—they have bypassed the Arathi Highlands and reached the Hinterlands. The orcish forces there are clearly more elite, and they even have an aerial corps mounted on red dragons,” Kordran recalled the scene he had witnessed himself. “The last clashes in Hillsbrad were merely a feint by the Horde. The true main force lies on the eastern shore of the Hinterlands.”

“Highlord,” Furstad added, “our scouts have also reported the possible presence of forest trolls alongside the orcs. These trolls are as tall as humans but more heavily built, with solid muscles and long limbs. Witnesses have seen them moving swiftly through the forests, closing in on Aerie Peak.”

Summoning all his strength, Kordran declared, “Inform every soldier to prepare for battle. May we hold out until the Alliance reinforcements arrive.”

Retreat was an option Kordran had considered, but the Hillsbrad foothills behind them were also overrun by orcs. Should they attempt to withdraw the entire population of Aerie Peak, and be discovered by the orcs in the rear, they would be trapped with no escape. Lacking fortifications, they would be forced to fight a battle on open ground, with dire consequences.

Now, Kordran could only pin his hopes on the Alliance—to stabilize the front and send some troops to aid Aerie Peak.

...

The Alliance forces had established a defensive line in the Hillsbrad foothills. Admiral Proudmoore spotted the Horde’s ships attempting to approach the coast near Southshore. The Kul Tiras fleet swiftly engaged the Horde’s ironclad vessels. These crude ships, built by goblins from blackwood and covered in metal plates, were clumsy and lacked artillery—easy targets for the Kul Tiras navy.

With the support of elven rangers, countless orcs met their end in the sea. Yet the number of ships sunk by the Alliance was but a fraction of the Horde’s forces. The coastal raids combined with amphibious landings forced the Alliance reinforcements into a grueling battle.

Lothar led the vanguard against the orcs, with Uther wielding his massive hammer, capable of shattering orc bones with a single blow. The orcs launched a third assault, only to be repelled again by the Lordaeron coalition. The human defensive line seemed unbreakable.

Turalyon returned from the frontline and noticed the orcs were retreating, granting the humans a brief respite.

“We have driven back the orcs!” Turalyon raised his weapon, radiant with holy light, cheering all the Alliance warriors. “They are withdrawing. We are victorious!”

“For the Alliance!”

“For the Alliance!”

...

Feeling the warmth of the Light, the soldiers raised their weapons in unison, savoring this hard-won victory. Many human survivors had tears in their eyes—refugees from Stormwind whose homes had been razed by these green-skinned invaders. Their families slain, their loved ones clinging to life in Southshore, they could only wonder what ruin had befallen Stormwind itself.

Nearby, Lothar nodded in agreement but showed no joy. Earlier that morning, he had received urgent dispatches from the Wildhammer dwarves at Aerie Peak: the Hinterlands were in peril. A horde of orcs, accompanied by war machines spewing black smoke and allied forest trolls, were marching toward Aerie Peak. Though the battle in Hillsbrad had stabilized somewhat, the situation remained grave.

Lothar glanced toward the orcs’ retreat path, his expression darkening. “They are withdrawing eastward. Their aim is to reach the Hinterlands and join the orc forces there to encircle the Wildhammer dwarves.”

“Should we pursue them?” Turalyon asked, his blood stirred by recent charges. “We must chase and crush the Horde forces once and for all.”

In recent months, Turalyon’s leadership in battle had proven human knights were no less formidable than orcs in a charge. This was the first time humans had repelled a direct Horde offensive, and his renown had soared.

Yet General Lothar shook his head, dismissing the notion.

“No,” he corrected. “We have indeed stopped them, but they did not flee from us. They slipped through our lines, right under our noses.”

Turning to face Turalyon, Lothar smiled—a cold, weary smile etched by days of relentless combat.

“Clearly,” Lothar said, “the Horde’s actions reveal another purpose. Their true objective is the Hinterlands.”

“General, you speak wisely. We must follow them closely to prevent them from gaining a foothold after taking Aerie Peak,” Turalyon insisted confidently. “Is that not so?”

“Yes.” Lothar turned his mount toward the front of the troops. “However, our tests of their strength show our men—especially the paladins created by Archbishop Alonsus Faol—are capable of withstanding the Horde’s main force. This is heartening. We have kept them outside Lordaeron’s capital, proving the Alliance’s strength can stand against the Horde. Our coalition may even surpass them.”

At that moment, an elf and a dwarf approached from the rear command post.

“General Turalyon’s assessment is correct. The Horde is indeed advancing into the Hinterlands,” spoke Zandalar Windrunner, the highest-ranking commander sent by Quel’Thalas to support the Alliance. As a sixth-rank ranger, his hawk-eye vision confirmed the orcs’ movement toward the Hinterlands.

Lothar smiled at Turalyon, then nodded decisively. “Our warriors are weary. We will rest briefly. Uther, you will maintain the defensive line. The rest of you, follow me to the Hinterlands.”

Lothar turned to the elderly dwarf beside Zandalar Windrunner. “Messenger, you know the terrain of Aerie Peak best. We need you as our guide to avoid wasting time on the march.”

The dwarf—Wildhammer’s trusted messenger—grinned broadly. Having been sent by Furstad overnight on a gryphon to seek aid, he laughed heartily, his beard shaking with joy. “No problem at all. It’s taken care of. We are grateful for General Lothar’s mercy. The Wildhammer dwarves will never forget this.”

“You have done well. A commendable leader indeed,” Lothar said as he headed toward the command tent behind the troops.