The Gates of Orgrimmar

It had been a few days since the probing attacks at the Tram terminal in Ironforge. Stormwind had also been hit, though far more grievously. While the Ironforge nobility wished to fight defensively, Bruenor had something different in mind. Though he pledged his loyalty and that of the Battlehammer clan to the Dwarven nation, he refused to bow to the politics of the day. The human King himself had been wounded and even now his healers worked feverishly to keep him alive. Clan King Bruenor decided to take the fight to the Horde rather than keep to the halls of the Capitol. To this end, he summoned his clansmen and ordered a mighty host to muster in the Commons.

Mounting up at King Bruenor's command.

By order, they marched on to Stormwind to take ships across the sea. The battered troops of Stormwind would welcome the extra dwarven aid without a doubt. And so they marched onward to the tram. Once there, the mighty host travelled and the mustered in Stormwind.

Formation ready for Stormwind march.

It took awhile as many of the clan wanted to enjoy the human city. The open air and towering walls were interesting to those who minded after architecture. Other's enjoyed the human food and drink. Of course the humans didn't mind, gold and silver traded hands fast and furious. For a dwarven warrior, though his coin be precious, it was also a way to show his or her power by spending it amongst others.\

On foot, the dwarven host crosses one of many Stormwind bridges.

Drunken Dwarf foot races, getting ready for the fight.

With the blood of the clan in fool fury, King Bruenor led his people to the docks and took to sail across the ocean to meet the Horde by blood and blade. It took a few weeks, but finally they made port on Theramore Isle and crossed the murly swamps in the Barrens. While marching on to take the Crossroads as a resupply point, a few Horde skirmishers gave some fight, but not enough to deter the Host. Bruenor knew that word would quickly reach Orgrimmar and blood would be spilt. This would be ok, let them be ready, for axe would meet axe and steel would spark fire.

In all of this, Grimrhok, who has recently been promoted to Corporal marched on with fire in his eyes. Mckaylee was there at his side and both were spoiling for a fight. Soon, the horde would feel the might of the Battlehammers. Though the march was long, he was hardened to the road. Things in the Barrens were different to him. Large tracts of Savannah grasslands, brken up with high plateaus. Personally, he missed the forests and mountains, but when the warhorns and drums of battle called, he danced readily to it's tune.

Finally after several days of march, the Host caught the Crossroads in their sites. Traditionaly the Horde had held this place as a beacon for trade and for armies to resupply at as they traveled. It wasn't huge, no more than a village really, but a prosperous one to say the least. For the Battlehammer's, it would serve as a resupply point and triage should things get ugly. From the tactical point of view, it was critical in taking and holding. Grimrhok readied his rifle and che4cked his equipment. When ready, the Battle drums beat and the fight ensued.

 

Chaos and blood reigns all as the fight for Crossroads rages on.

Holding ground, Grimrhok keeps a sharp eye out for counter attack.

Once the Crossroads were secure, the Clan left a defending force behind, to be ready for any orders that came down. This would insure that if any Horde attempted to retake the village, they would meet resistance, but also gave the clan an anchor to hold onto if things got ugly. The rest of the Clan raced north towards the Southfury entrance. More and more of the Horde came to battle them as they moved on, but their efforts slowed the clan vbery little in getting to the gates. Hellscream should have sent a better team of skirmishers to bring the clan to bay thought Grimrhok. With a chuckle and whistle, he urged his Battle Ram on to keep up with the rest of the host.

Grimrhok rides on the flanks to keep a sharp eye out for Horde attacks.

Approaching the River Gates.

The Battle ensues.

Once at the gates, the fight became furious. So, thought Grim, Hellscream had panned this. That wily orcish warlord put everything he had against the clan here to decide one way or another. The Bald bastard was smart after all. Steel met steel, mighty spells crackled in the skies. No quarter given or taken. The Horde forces indeed were mighty this day. Grim could only hope that by attrition, they would make Hellscream's forces think thrice afore they attempted another assault on the Alliance capitols. Though the dwarves fought hard and long, supplies began to dwindle. Since the rest of the Allaince was fractured, the Clan coulnd't breach the gates. Still, pound for pound and steel for steel, many were the Horde warrior that fell that day. Certainly, they gave pause to think another round or three before attacking any Alliance territory. In the end, though frustrated by not being able to breach their defenses, Grim walked away with mroe than a few orc and troll heads. He would have kept the forsaken ones, but they stank worse for the decay. Something wrong about the undead. Eh well, Grim knew he did his job right.

It felt like a stalemate, The Horde forces couldn't break out and make further menace, but the Clan couldn't break through with a decisive blow. Supplies ran low and so King Bruenor gave the signal to fall back. It wasn't his favorite order, but he would rather regroup and replenish than let his clan die at the gates with no help from Ironfore or Stormwind. Damned sure he wouldn't see help from the Darnassus enclave. Still, thee move was best for the clan. Of course many the tale would be regaled for their fine efforts and their hardened fighting.

Weeks later they reached Stormwind. From looting and pillaging, many was the coin spent, though mostly this time in the Dwarven District. Stories were told, bragging ensued as dwarves are want to do. Brothers and sisters came together and bonds were made deeper by blood and steel.

The Dwarven Tavern in Stormwind.

Drinking to the fallen, a moment of silence.

We did well to hold them off Grim thought as he scratched Greyfang's ear. It wasn't the win he had hoped for, but damned sure put a dent in the Horde plans to make a serious assault. Hopefully he thought, next time more support would be available.

Rewards for hard fought battles

Grimrhok was pleased. High Command of the Dwarves had awarded him with a War Ram, fast, deadly and armed to the Horn! The black charger looked at him impatiently as he admired it's breeding. Only the finest warriors were awarded with such mounts to show all their accomplishments and deeds.

In Ironforge, only the finest warriors could have such a fine steed!

Clan BattleHammer Where Steel and Blood Meet

One of the largest forces defending the Alliance and especially Dwarven interests and Ironforge is Clan Battlehammer For two long years they have forged young dwarves into steel clad defenders of the Dwarven realms. Many has been the time they have staged assaults on key Horde controlled areas. Proudly, Grim could now call himself one of them. They were a hard bitten lot, and expected any of their recruits to be ready for the brutality that war brings. His own recruiter, Keella had made sure he understood that to stand amongst the Battlehammer and to serve King Bruenor, he would have to prove himself in battle continuously. Thankfully he came with good recommendations from his previous Commander. And so, he and his sweet Mckaylee took their oath of loyalty to King Bruenor to fight at his side ready and willing to answer the Call To Arms when asked for.

Mustering to the ranks, heeding the Call to Arms.

King Bruenor looked across the assembled force. His keen eye was quick to see those new amongst his ranks. He called them by name and inspected their gear to make sure they be ready for war. The King did his own inspections, showing his worth by walking amongst his troops. Each dwarf stood tall, making sure their arms and armor were clean, sharpened and ready to answer to the drums of battle. As the king neared Grim, his cocked an eyebrow.
"Well now, a hunter are ya? You've a fine little fox at your side. But whats this? Daggers instead of axes? "
"M'lord", Grim answered," My rifle does most the talkin' at range. But as my love Mckaylee has a lways said to me, a good pair of daggers is often the way to strike when least expected at close quarters. And when it comes to daggers, Mckaylee knows them better than most. But rest assured, Tis my rifle that be answerin' the most!". With that he presented to his new King the prized rifle which he kept religiously clean and at the ready.

The Clan Lord looked briefly but new the young hunter would not have presented his weapon ready less it was truly ready. He could see the focus in the young hunter's eyes. It was all he needed to know. Nodding with a mischievous wink, he moved on.

Inspection in the Ranks.

After the inspection finished, drums beat loudly in time with the hammers of Ironforge and the call to mount up at the ready sounded from ancient horns. Quickly, Grimrhok and his dear Mckaylee mounted their Rams and made ready for the patrols ahead. It would be the first time they fought together, and he could see the gleam in her eyes as they made ready to march. It gave him both chills and a sense of pride to see her in such a state. Aye, this would be a good fight no matter how it ended. Before mounting up, Grimrhok kneeled in the mighty halls and called out his prayers to the ancestors,

"Lo there do I see my father. Lo there do I see my mother and my sisters and my brothers. Lo there do I see the line of my people, back to the beginning. Lo, they do call to me, they bid me take my place among them, in the Great Halls, where the brave may live...forever.' (Giving credit this is a Norse prayer for war and burial written somewhere between the 12-13th century but I had to do it!!)

With that he whistled to his charger and lept up on his fearless Ram.

Mounting up and making ready for the march.

Commands were called and all got into a file to march through Ironforge and head to the great Tram which would take them to Stormwind.

Marching to the drums of war.

The tram was packed with the might host. Everyone stood shoulder to shoulder here.

Upon reaching Stormwind, everyone mounted once again, and made their march out amongst the humans. Many were surprised at the mighty host. But every soldier amongst the clan held their quiet discipline for the moment. Indeed, there would be a time and place for bragging and drinking. But for now, the shear numbers would do more talking than any word from the mouth. Women, children, soldiers stopped and took pause at the mighty host. Though this had not been the first time and certainly wouldnt be the last, the sight alone caused suprise by many of Stormwind's residents. Grim took pride in this. For most of his life he stood alone, surviving the harshness of the world by just his wit. But here, he felt as though he was a part of something greater than himself. It was something that felt noble and true. This made him straighten his broad back a little more and hold his head high.

Marching through Stormwind.

The march continued, a few stalwart Alliance heroes joined in here and there, just to say they had been with the mighty host. Bruenor led from the front. He would not stand behind his troops but instead be the first to swing his mighty Axe. Once past the gates of Stormwind, The army made their way into a samll town just outside the capitol, and made their presence known their. The local commander was glad to see such a mighty host to add to his own patrols. It kept bad elements out and away from Goldshire.

Heading into Goldshire.

Once the area had been secure, the Clan moved out towards WestfallStormwind had been building a new Battle Keep out there, but it still was in progress for completion, so forces there were constantly harassed by gnollish incursions, cataclysmic elementals, and as always, the looming threat of the Horde.

Wesfall as it stood now.

Along the way, the patrol encountered more than a few Horde skirmishers. Grimrhok and Mckaylee made sure they were in the front of any fight, whether by shadow or by rifle shot. No doubt many of their betters did far more damage, but they would not cower behind the mighty. No, it was better to die valiantly than live the life of a coward. Some of the Horde dove from the skies. Many of them felt the sting of Grimrhok's rifle as the made their decent! But of course, it was his betters that made the true and telling kills. when all was said and done and the threats dispersed, the host made it's way back to Ironforge. It had taken a few days to do this, but well worth the march.

After the patrol, Mckaylee makes sure Grim is ready for the final call.

Word spread quickly that the new recruits had shown themselves worth the steel and fire they spoke of. In fact an message had been sent to Grimrhok and Mckaylee to make ready to be presented to the King. Mckaylee naturally was ready to be presented. She had already washed and re-braided her raven dark hair. Grim had not thought of it himself. He lived in the fields and rarely worried. But his dearest convinced him it was for the best that he look his finest. He cleaned his armor, resharpened his daggers and oiled his rifle. She in turn oiled and plaited his fine dark bear. She carefully wove and braided it, adding new silver bands to show off that fine long beard. He couldn't argue. This was a way a dwarven maiden would always show a warrior her love. For the beard of a dwarf was a way to express he was a warrior amongst many. And a long beard said even more. Once done, the King had called a final formation. He called out the roles himself. He also demanded a few step forward for their bravery in combat. Unto each he proudly announced his decree of their actions and awards. Grimrhok and Mckaylee knelt before the King of the Battlehammer and received their just rewards.

The chosen few, new and old.

Before the Clan Lord.

Grim receives his recognition amongst the Clan.

When it was finished, there was a great celebration with plenty of ale, grog and for certain the finest foods. All rejoiced and hailed the king as well as each other. Everyone present was counted as brother and sister in war. With the celebration finished, Bruenor called his personal guard and his finest heroes.
"We've done well out there with our host. But a mightier threat looms. I call upon you my champions for a special mission. Only the greatest may come this round for I am not certain of the outcome. Give the others their respite. But to each of you my heroes, you all must mount up fast, for the Alliance needs us now more than ever! Mount up my brothers and Sisters for this ride I lead the Charge!"

(This was my introduction into Clan BattleHammer (Emerald Dream). It is a Dwarf centric guild and all about world pvp.  For those interested in knowing more about the clan you can log onto their website at: http://www.guildportal.com/Guild.aspx?GuildID=320395&TabID=2686102 

For some reason this won't link as it should. But Google it and you will find the Clan, or just copy paste into your browser for more information. These folk are a good lot and worth my time as a dwarf. If you enjoy Dwarf centric pvp, rp and just fun social, I really suggest you check them out!!!)