"Captain, those invaders have suspended their logging activities. Do we want to continue attacking them?"
In the forest not far from the Warsong lumberyard, a small group of night elf sentries were closely observing the movements of the orcs on the tall tree crowns.
"Don't worry, their uncharacteristic actions may be to lure us into taking the bait. We just need to keep an eye on them here, and the forest will help us."
The sentry captain replied calmly. In her eyes, there was no difference between orcs and those races that overestimated their capabilities and violated the authority of the night elves.
Maybe they are better physically and mentally, but for the night elves, they have the strength not to take the orcs seriously.
The encounter in the forest has clearly illustrated the problem. The orcs are more difficult to deal with than centaurs, wild boars and the like, but they have not caused more trouble to the sentry troops.
At this moment, Grommash, the chief of the Warsong Clan, was pacing back and forth in his tent a little anxiously, thinking about a way to solve the night elves' troubles.
Affected by the last defeat, Grommash asked the orcs to reduce logging activities and station themselves in military camps to prevent night elves from attacking.
Grommash tried to lure the night elves out of the forests they were familiar with. Only on open and flat terrain could the orcs better utilize their physical advantages.
However, the night elves were much more cautious than Grommash expected. They did not leave the forest of Ashenvale at all, as if they wanted to surround the orcs alive in the lumberyard.
On the contrary, Grommash himself became more and more anxious, because he realized that the current orcs may not be the opponents of the elves.
He might be able to withstand one or two attacks, but the third or even more times, Grommash rationally believed that he would never be able to withstand it.
For the first time, Chief Warsong felt a deep sense of frustration and powerlessness. He looked down at his hands and clenched his fists hard - power, if there was enough power to subvert everything, the Warsong clan and the orcs could get rid of it. Dilemma!
However, the evil power of the demon's blood has long since faded away, leaving only a body full of sequelae and trauma.
Throughout his life as a soldier, Gromash was a hero in the eyes of the orcs and a hated executioner by humans. But at this moment, he was just a leader who was in trouble and eager to find a way out.
"Chief!"
A loud roar dispelled Grommash's thoughts, and he returned to normal, "What's the matter?"
"We met a troll witch doctor who said he could help us." The orc scout reported truthfully.
Troll witch doctor?
Grommash thought of the trolls who followed Thrall. He didn't like these guys who suddenly joined the tribe, because the tribe had been defeated once before because of the betrayal of the forest trolls.
But the current situation no longer allows Grommash to pick three things, and he must make a decision quickly.
After weighing the pros and cons, Grommash still said, "Let the witch doctor come in."
The troll witch doctor outside the door heard Grommash's words. He nodded to the orc guards on one side, and the two guards opened the curtain of the tent for him.
The mountain-like body of the chief of the Warsong clan caught the eye of the troll witch doctor. The aging troll squeezed out a smile that was uglier than crying, "Dear Chief Warsong, I am here to help you."
"You have a way to defeat those pointy-eared elves?"
Grommash looked at the troll witch doctor with doubtful eyes. He thought it was a miracle that this witch doctor could walk on his own with a cane. What other help could he provide to him?
"It is impossible for me, an old and feeble troll, to defeat the overlord of this land," the troll witch doctor shook his head regretfully, "but you can, the mighty Hellscream."
"As much as I hate to admit it, I can't defeat those hiding elves and the protectors of this forest just by relying on me now." Grommash frowned, and he began to feel that this witch doctor was talking nonsense. .
The troll witch doctor laughed twice, "Somewhere in this forest, there is a powerful force hidden. It can provide you with enough power to defeat the night elves."
"Go to the mountains and forests in the south...there are answers to your questions..."
The witch doctor's voice began to sound as ethereal as if he was talking in his sleep. Grommash was stunned for a while, until the feeling of weightlessness woke him up from his daze. He was like a person whose dream has been broken, and his whole body trembled.
However, the troll witch doctor was no longer in the camp, as if he had never been there.
This made Grommash wary. He stood up suddenly, opened the curtain, and shouted to the orc guards standing guard, "Where is the troll witch doctor?"
The orc guard was stunned for a moment, then pointed outside and said, "He has been gone for a while. What happened, Chief?"
Been gone for a while? Were you not bewitched by the spell?
Grommash's eyes wandered from side to side, but his mind was thinking about what had just happened, and how credible the words of the witch doctor were.
Finally, Grommash called his two personal guards, left the camp at the lumber camp, and headed south along the river.
…………
"Tichondrius, Lord Archimonde is not satisfied with your progress."
In front of Tichondrius was the illusion of an abyss lord. After struggling to find the items left by the ancient elves, he temporarily contacted the Burning Legion.
"We have encountered a small setback. Give me some time and I can handle these things, Mannoroth."
The pit lord Mannoroth said contemptuously, "You better be able, otherwise you losers will bear the wrath of Lord Archimonde."
This idiot lizard only knows how to use that reckless man Archimonde to suppress others! If he had come to Azeroth by himself, he would have been torn into pieces and turned into laboratory materials!
Although he is very disdainful of Mannoroth and his reckless master, Tichondrius is still very humble now. Because he has lost control of the Scourge, he does not want Kil'jaeden to know for the time being.
If Kil'jaeden knew that they had almost given up the Scourge, Tichondrius would rather let Archimonde deal with him.
The name "Deceiver" is far more terrifying in the Burning Legion than "Defiler". Even the cunning and cunning Nathrezim is unwilling to offend or disobey Kil'jaeden.
"Of course I am willing to accept the punishment for losers, but now is the first step of our plan. I will summon you to come to Azeroth first. I need your power to make those orcs fall into madness again."
Mannoroth sprayed out blazing sulfur flames from his nose, which seemed to confirm the abyss lord's joyful mood, "Orcs? I am willing to enslave those 'cute' little reptiles once."
