Recruitment's never been my scene – too many people shouting their name and skills over each other, too much queueing. Not my thing. So when I turned up to the Blasted Lands last Sunday, I was... Well, surprised. I had been expecting the usual – a rag-tag band of out-of-luck mercenaries, interspersed with the odd glory-seeking crusader, resplendant in golden armour. I wasn't expecting a group of very well-trained people, all of whom with a genuine interest in actually reinforcing Draenor. But there they were – names like Girem, Vashnu, Martin Northwall, even the oft-gossiped-about Gaebriel of Sunshine.
It was one of Gaebriel's own that was leading this effort, a sickly-looking Draenei Mage by the name of Lyandri. While the plans were all being hashed out – with the occaisional interruptions from one particularly mouthy little mercenary – the Horde were doing their usual incomprehensible shouting and wild gesturing, which eventually resulted in them charging through the portal on foot. I didn't even see if they took supplies. Meanwhile, we were packing up mammoths and elekks with food, weapons and timber, the kind of things that would help the beleagured soldiers in Honor Hold. It was all going fairly well, until the scouts sent through the portal mentioned that the Legion were a lot more active.
I suppose subtlety is difficult when your partners in this little effort confuse “restoration” with “decapitation”.
The Alliance, now packed up and ready to go, rushed in through the portal. What we saw was fairly usual, just more of it – Pit Commanders leading vast amounts of infernals and other demons to attack the defenders, and now the Horde – while we neatly sidestepped the action and loaded up gryphons and drakes with supplies. It really set the tone for the rest of the expedition. I'll do my best not to be entirely condescending, but I can only report what went on...
When we finally arrived at the base, we were finally treated to a slightly longer speech from our fearless leader.
"I would like to thank you all that have come here to lend aid. Your effort, and your presence is appreciated. Your work remembered, and the ones you aid, honored by your side. I, myself, am honored to have you all by my side in this."
We were then rudely interrupted by balls of green, infernal, flaming rock. This was probably not the best of starts, but it can always be worse.
Of course, it got worse.
Within about ten minutes of us getting the supplies sent into storerooms and the inn, the Horde attacked. Two of them, supposedly – I didn't see much of them, other than the red smear, which is quite difficult to see on the red rock, covered by red dust, with red light beating down on it. Either way, we knew that we were in for a rough time. Our own “scouts” were sent out in earnest, their flying machines and dragons running around the peninsula. It was all things we already knew – the Legion were mounting last-ditch attacks, the independent factions like the Broken and Illidari getting more than a little antsy...
Those of us who expected boundless glory, wenches and ale may have been somewhat disappointed, as a few people were immediately sent to put the timber to use. No one complained, however, and within a few hours we had a good palisade taking shape around the destroyed walls. This reporter can neither confirm nor deny the fact that he may have used an ornate spyglass to look at a certain pair of barely-clothed paladins at work.
Ahem.
Anyway, diplomacy. We weren't just here to reinforce the Hold – we were also here to ensure that the Temple of Telhamat was safe, amongst the other forward positions dotted around – Shatter Point, et cetera. As the evening marched on, we began to make some serious progress. The walls took shape. An alchemical investigation was being launched into the foul earth of Hellfire. Even a marvel of engineering was built by two competant Gnome engineers – a loudspeaker, to save Lyandri from breaking her throat open trying to shout everyone together. People were working hard – and things were taking shape. I spoke to a few of the soldiers on duty, and they all seemed fairly pleased. Efforts had been made to reinforce them in the past, but this was the first one that seemed to get stuck into it without having to be showered with piles of cash.
In fact, we were so enthused by our progress, that an attack was lead on the Abyssal Shelf, against the vast amount of Fel Reavers and Gan'arg experimenters. This resulted in a couple of small casualties – which is probably to be expected, to be honest – but also a good morale victory. Sticking your boot up the arse of the Burning Legion is always quite satisfying.
Which is probably why they sent the Eredar to intimidate us... I'm afraid I didn't write the speech down, I was too busy yelling “OH, PIKE OFF!” with the rest of the defenders.
If there's one thing I've learned here, it's that the Alliance hasn't got patience for those who shout and gesture.
We just get stuck in.
Kristofer,
Licensed and Registered Sky-Privateer
