Edge of the Abyss

Skarthang snarled in pain as the mages channeled the spells of healing into his battered flesh. The great dragon had been badly wounded by the pounding hammers of a horde of trolls before throwing himself into the sky to escape certain death. Arios, called Elvenking by those kindreds sworn to his banner, gave a rather unrefined grunt as he set his shoulder, dislocated by the dragon's sudden lurch skyward. His elven pride was wounded, but both he and his noble companion had escaped with their lives.

He cursed the foul sorcery of the Orc Leader who's black magic had kept him alive beneath the Elvenking's onslaught long enough for them to be trapped by the savage horde.

His pride was however swelled by the performance of the Tallspears and Stormwind Cavalry who, using the forest to disrupt the Orcish formations, fought and repelled the waves of primitive brawn sent against them.

The Mages would later set about restoring the damaged portals and the Glades were safe for another day. Arios gripped the hilt of his enchanted blade. He knew the Orcs would return, and today they had made this war personal.