09-01-2020, 06:25 PM
(In the last days of the Timeskip)
It was a common saying in the Horde that the only fortress that could hold out against the Blackrock were those built by the Blackrock. While the majority of clans tended to lean more in the direction of the Warsong, favoring reckless aggression and the chaos of a melee, the Blackrock preferred to be methodical, deliberate and patient. They favored a march over a charge, orderly lines to a disorganized mob, and patient attrition to all or nothing offensives.
Having been raised for most of his formative among them, it was an attitude and approach to war that Arthak himself cleaved to. Discipline and efficiency were two of the attributes of the bedrock of his own philosophies of war, drilled into him, intentionally or not by the shadow of his uncle. The Blackrock thrived in sieges, and on some level Arthak was still a Blackrock at heart.
In the weeks since the fall of the Ban'dinariel and the true beginning of the war, the Horde had come to learn more of their newest adversaries. The elves had given way to the humans, specifically those of the Lord-Aeron clan, whose territories neighbored Quel'thelas. And it was outside the Lord-Aeron city of Stratholme that Arthak stood, arms crossed, looking over the palisades towards the city he would soon help to crush.
He'd stayed out of the opening weeks of the war up until now. The losses taken at the Battle of the Sunwell had taken much of his clan's strength, and thus his ability to responsibly take part. His people had, and still needed time to mourn, to recover, and to bolster their numbers again.
We will need to be ready once those lost to Outland are returned to us. The war will not ignore us or wait for us for very long.
But while the majority of his forces were focused upon the rebuilding of Gramgunn'kur, and training under Thura's exacting direction, he himself had business that had to be seen to. The clan could afford to keep away more than he could. The Battle of Fort Crossing had gone on without him, which was just as well. He was cautious being that close to the Warchief, and his killing of Kargath Bladefist was still fresh on many minds.
The Warchief's sole remaining child, and the chieftain of the Black Tooth Grin was better company. It was Dal'rend who commanded the siege of Stratholme, having taken charge when the conflict in the Greenwood had broken out, thanks largely to the Burning Blade's inability to adhere to a strategic plan. And it was Dal'rend who had, with the exact same merciless pragmatism his sire was known for, slowly ground down the city's defenders for 5 grueling months.
The time was drawing nigh for the siege to break, one way or another. Most likely, the coming battle would be a glorious victory for Rend, and by proxy for his father, who was still basking in his victory at Fort Crossing a few weeks before. Arthak had no intention of stealing attention away from Blackhand's heir; he'd taken some few steps to keep his arrival and presence here unobtrusive.
It is necessity. The war progresses, and I must ensure that I keep at least a little aware of its progression. Especially in light of Grom's disappearance, things could very quickly become unstable.
And as Lantressor had teased him about in the past, he was not the kind of orc to allow events to transpire without sticking his nose in them at least a little.
Keeping his vision focused on the city walls, his mind quietly at work considering possible scenarios and points of attack, Arthak addressed the orc standing beside him.
"How soon do you think, Dal'rend?"
It was a common saying in the Horde that the only fortress that could hold out against the Blackrock were those built by the Blackrock. While the majority of clans tended to lean more in the direction of the Warsong, favoring reckless aggression and the chaos of a melee, the Blackrock preferred to be methodical, deliberate and patient. They favored a march over a charge, orderly lines to a disorganized mob, and patient attrition to all or nothing offensives.
Having been raised for most of his formative among them, it was an attitude and approach to war that Arthak himself cleaved to. Discipline and efficiency were two of the attributes of the bedrock of his own philosophies of war, drilled into him, intentionally or not by the shadow of his uncle. The Blackrock thrived in sieges, and on some level Arthak was still a Blackrock at heart.
In the weeks since the fall of the Ban'dinariel and the true beginning of the war, the Horde had come to learn more of their newest adversaries. The elves had given way to the humans, specifically those of the Lord-Aeron clan, whose territories neighbored Quel'thelas. And it was outside the Lord-Aeron city of Stratholme that Arthak stood, arms crossed, looking over the palisades towards the city he would soon help to crush.
He'd stayed out of the opening weeks of the war up until now. The losses taken at the Battle of the Sunwell had taken much of his clan's strength, and thus his ability to responsibly take part. His people had, and still needed time to mourn, to recover, and to bolster their numbers again.
We will need to be ready once those lost to Outland are returned to us. The war will not ignore us or wait for us for very long.
But while the majority of his forces were focused upon the rebuilding of Gramgunn'kur, and training under Thura's exacting direction, he himself had business that had to be seen to. The clan could afford to keep away more than he could. The Battle of Fort Crossing had gone on without him, which was just as well. He was cautious being that close to the Warchief, and his killing of Kargath Bladefist was still fresh on many minds.
The Warchief's sole remaining child, and the chieftain of the Black Tooth Grin was better company. It was Dal'rend who commanded the siege of Stratholme, having taken charge when the conflict in the Greenwood had broken out, thanks largely to the Burning Blade's inability to adhere to a strategic plan. And it was Dal'rend who had, with the exact same merciless pragmatism his sire was known for, slowly ground down the city's defenders for 5 grueling months.
The time was drawing nigh for the siege to break, one way or another. Most likely, the coming battle would be a glorious victory for Rend, and by proxy for his father, who was still basking in his victory at Fort Crossing a few weeks before. Arthak had no intention of stealing attention away from Blackhand's heir; he'd taken some few steps to keep his arrival and presence here unobtrusive.
It is necessity. The war progresses, and I must ensure that I keep at least a little aware of its progression. Especially in light of Grom's disappearance, things could very quickly become unstable.
And as Lantressor had teased him about in the past, he was not the kind of orc to allow events to transpire without sticking his nose in them at least a little.
Keeping his vision focused on the city walls, his mind quietly at work considering possible scenarios and points of attack, Arthak addressed the orc standing beside him.
"How soon do you think, Dal'rend?"