Chapter One: The Emergency Edit
“Can anyone prove to me how this is possible!?” The disdainful dwarf at the head of the table yelled at the top of his voice. “I have lost my two brothers, the Dark Irons are constantly harassing my clan. And now this?” His nose snuffled and he smashed a glass with his hammer. He snarled and he yelled some more, “No one can tell me why we lost Menethil?
A night elf stared at him, and in a confident voice spoke, “Maybe we can tell you if you would regain your wisdom… If you have gone insane than maybe we shouldn’t trust the Bronzebeards anymore.” The dwarf swifted his head to her, and he was instantly calmed. “I am sorry Tyrande, but how could we let this happen?” “Well…if you think you’re the most affected, Velen and I could hardly make it here. We had to dock at Southshore. On that side note, I believe it is obvious the Horde are up to something. They haven’t moved from Menethil, but they are up to something…”
Than a human on the other end of the table spoke up, “I agree with Magni, no matter how wrong his approach to give his opinion. Although the horde forces haven’t moved from Menethil, there is another horde force moving up from the goblin town of Booty Bay. They are most definitely close to Stormwind…enough so that we are getting refugees from the southern lands everyday. With Tyrande here, they will surely try to attack the Night Elves’ lands, too. If we have already lost Menethil, than they will move farther.”
“Thank you Bolvar. However, I will not worry so much about the Night Elf lands for awhile. They know they cannot take Darnassus until they take Ironforge and Stormwind,” Tyrande said with a discontent face. She looked up at the people at the table, and than the gnome at the right of Tyrande spoke up. “Can we be sure of this? I am afraid the gnomes cannot do much for the alliance. We have so little forces, and we are barely getting a foothold in Gnomeregan. My beloved people are getting ever more depressed. Of course, we will try, but we gnomes are fighting a losing war.”
An old Draenei looked up and smiled at the gnome. “We refugees must stick together.” He stood up, “I will send some forces to help take Gnomeregan, then I will send the rest to Southshore to rendezvous with anyone with any who will help. Then I will personally take up arms to battle the horde at Menethil. Mekkatorque, I wish you good luck with Gnomeregan.”
A grey-haired human stood up, “As will I, with little forces as I have. The Light will rise that day!” Then he walked over to the Draenei. “As will I,” Magni said with a smile. “Count on Stormwind,” Bolvar said with a snarl. Tyrande giggled, “The Alliance will truly prevail.” Magni said, “Velen, Benedictus, you will face many orcs, but not without me.” Mekkatorque cheered and jumped in his chair.