"Charge!" Lothar stood at the front of the formation, mounted on his warhorse, thrusting the Great Royal Sword forward like a lance.
With his other hand, he yanked the reins and surged toward the orcish horde.
Beside him, Alleria calmly nocked an arrow onto her bow, Thas'dorah.
The cavalry followed close behind, charging in a wedge formation. The human lancers held the outer edge of the formation, long spears leveled forward.
Inside, the high elven mounted archers were protected, firing in high arcs toward the orcs ahead.
Most of the orcs had their attention fixed on the impenetrable city walls, which remained undamaged no matter how fiercely they attacked.
Only a few heard the approaching warhorses and turned their heads.
A couple of orcs opened their mouths to shout a warning, but Alleria's arrows whistled through the air, striking their skulls squarely in the forehead.
They dropped dead before making a sound.
Lothar swung his Great Royal Sword at the last alert orc, shattering its jaw and, with the momentum, slicing through its neck.
The orc's head flew through the air as its body collapsed, trampled by Lothar's horse.
And just like that, Lothar's army charged across the plains, launching a southern assault on the city.
Ahead of them stood the now-alert Horde troops, turned to face the threat.
At that moment, the catapults atop the city walls fired, a weapon Alaric had personally led carpenters to design and build.
Over the past few days, they had inflicted devastating damage on the enemy.
Archers also released volley after volley of arrows, a rain of stone and shafts crashing down on the Horde's exposed backs.
Lothar led his cavalry into the Horde's front lines, breaking through, circling around, and retreating back to their original position.
Meanwhile, the mounted archers within the formation loosed a storm of arrows, felling orcs in waves.
The city's defenses launched a second assault immediately after.
The orcs were thrown into chaos, uncertain of how to respond.
If they faced the city walls, the Alliance would strike from the rear. If they turned around, they'd be vulnerable to the city guards.
They hadn't breached the walls, so retreating into Caer Darrow was impossible.
If they wanted to fall back toward the mountain by the lake, they'd have to push through the Alliance forces first. Either way led to death.
Unfortunately, there were still a lot of orcs left.
A massive column of orc warriors surged forward, weapons in hand, forcing Lothar to pull his cavalry back.
The elven mounted archers unleashed another barrage of arrows. Many orcs fell, but the gaps were quickly filled by new warriors.
The orcs charged at the Alliance troops, forcing them to retreat or risk being overwhelmed.
Step by step, Lothar and his forces were pushed back to the lakeshore.
Once they were far enough away, the remaining orcs turned their attention back to the city walls.
They launched a frenzied assault, wearing down the city's boiling oil, logs, stones, and other defensive resources.
The catapults couldn't strike enemies who had reached the wall, as doing so would damage the fortifications.
As a result, orcs were able to climb the walls and batter the gates.
Though the gates still held strong, they had endured days of heavy pounding and were now on the verge of giving out.
Laughing wildly, the orcs climbed the walls with all their might.
Most were skewered and thrown down during the ascent, but a few made it over, attacking the guards and diverting their attention from others still climbing.
That's when Alaric, Jaina, Garona, Onyxia, and other powerful individuals stepped in, taking care of enemies the guards couldn't handle, Liadrin, who had come bearing a message, joined them after a short rest.
The first wave of attackers was quickly wiped out, but more orcs followed close behind.
Corpses began to pile up again, providing some cover and footing for the next wave, allowing them to ready their weapons before striking the defenders.
Almost every day, Alaric had to direct the guards to clear the battlefield when an opportunity arose.
"This strategy isn't working!" Alleria shouted to Lothar as they attempted another assault on the Horde, only to be driven back by a flanking group of orcs.
"We don't have enough manpower to break them like this! We need another plan!"
"I agree!" Lothar called back, in the midst of a duel with a charging orc. "Can you hit them harder with your bows?"
"We can, but it won't do much," Alleria replied, her elven longsword piercing a nearby orc.
"The mounted archers can harass them, but they can't inflict enough damage. We don't have time to waste."
Lothar nodded.
"Then we'll go with the dumbest method, pull our forces back across the lake!" he told the high elf, raising his sword again after smashing an orc into the flowing waters below with his shield.
"Once they lose interest in us and turn their backs, we'll strike again."
Alleria nodded silently, her focus fixed on aiming at the enemy.
She hoped the new plan would work.
The town hadn't been built to withstand such a brutal siege. That they'd held out this long was entirely thanks to Alaric and the other powerful fighters by his side.
Alleria wasn't just worried for Alaric's safety, mages were far too slippery to be caught easily.
What she feared more was this: if the city gate fell, the Horde would pour in and never be driven out again. Alaric had once told her how Stormwind was conquered by the orcs.
She had no desire to relive that horror, and she would not allow Alaric's perfect war record to be ruined by a single moment of foolishness on her part.
"The gate's beginning to crack!"
Garona reappeared on the wall like a phantom, delivering the news to her master.
Alaric had no time to spare, he had to keep a close eye on Gul'dan. The terrifying orc warlock had already tried several times to sow chaos among the defenders with his fear magic.
As Alaric watched the battle below, another orc climbed onto the wall not far from him and charged.
The orc laughed maniacally, baring sharp fangs and swinging a massive warhammer.
The nearby soldiers were too busy to help. Reluctantly, Alaric picked up a fallen sword, ready to deal with the intruder himself.
Then someone leapt out beside him, it was Liadrin. Recognizing her, Alaric finally relaxed his grip on the sword.
Liadrin, wielding a spear of unknown origin, lunged at the orc, forcing it back a few steps.
"You should go check the gate, Sander," she said calmly, stabbing again, this time her spear pierced the orc's throat clean through.
At that moment, Liadrin looked far better than when she'd first arrived. The Seal of Chastity at her waist glowed brightly, and she appeared composed and strong.
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