World of Warcraft: When Alliance and Horde Characters Swap Roles

"My opinion is to negotiate peace with them." Nergo said surprisingly.

"Negotiating a peace?" Grommash pointed in the direction of Highmaul. "The city is right here. As long as we launch an attack, they will be completely destroyed. Now you are telling me that you want to negotiate a peace?"

But in the end, Grommash still chose to listen to Nelgo's reasons. This orc shaman had already implemented almost everything he said in the past (except for the grand plan called the Horde).

Moreover, his father also died in the battle with the ogre. No one would believe it, let alone him, if Nergo had compassion for the ogre.

"Highmaul is a large city with a long history." Nergo said: "The city has strong defenses and a large population. If we attack it by force, I have no doubt that we will conquer it, but how many people will die? The cost is too high. And there are still a lot of uncertainties.”

"Orcs are not afraid of death." Grommash was a bit stiff, but he had already admitted this fact in his heart. If the ogres in Highmaul used all their strength, what would happen even if they conquered it?

The inheritance of the law breaker cannot be obtained, the city is completely destroyed, and many people have to die. This is not purely a loss-making business.

He is reckless, but not stupid.

In front of this kind of city wall, even a few thousand ogres are enough to frustrate the orc army of ten thousand people.

Just like Constantinople in the Middle Ages, 200,000 Ottoman troops surrounded Constantinople and faced less than 8,000 mercenaries and volunteers.

The Ottoman side even used artillery and other lethal weapons as well as a naval blockade, but what was the result?

I couldn't attack for a long time and almost overturned!

Not to mention that the current orcs' suppression of Highmaul is not as powerful as the Ottomans' suppression of Eastern Rome.

"I know that the young men of the clan are all good. They deserve the name of their ancestors." Nergo said with a smile: "But wouldn't it be better if we could persuade them to surrender?"

"They will surrender?" Grommash doubted this.

"It depends on what kind of person their ruler is." Nergo said: "If he is the kind of monarch with a strong character, then it will be difficult for them to surrender, but -"

"If he was really tough on Highmaul, why would he do this?"

"You're right." Grommash nodded, "Ogres are weaklings."

"Yes, they are weak. This is also our opportunity. I want to go to their royal court in person to see whether their ruler will fight or surrender."

Nergo was looking forward to it. What was it like inside this once glorious city? Is it with the same disgusting smell of decay as their nobles, or is it as ancient and heavy as history?

"you?"

Grommash shook his head, a little dissatisfied with Nergo's words.

"How can I let you go to something that can be accomplished by just sending an envoy?"

This reckless man!

Grommash frowned, and regardless of Nergo's opinion, he picked up the piece of meat and stuffed it into his mouth, blocking the words Nergo wanted to say.

"Now your task is to enjoy the joy of victory."

………………

The gates to Highmaul slowly opened.

An unarmored orc envoy trudged up the stone steps, each half as high as his body.

An unkind look.

A look of fear.

Disgust, hatred.

The messenger enjoyed this feeling, and the incompetent rage of these ogres made the messenger full of ridicule towards them.

"Highmaul is nothing more than that."

He walked up the elevator with an arrogant look on his face, not worried at all that the ogres looking around him would stab him to death with their spears.

Although they looked like they couldn't bear it anymore.

"The house is just fine."

He smacked his lips, these stone houses looked very nice.

After walking out of the elevator, it was a small hill. The guards who guided him forward did not know whose order they were to humiliate the orc envoy. They actually took the envoy to a slave pen.

The air here is full of stench and dust. There are no houses to live in, only sheds for the orc slaves.

There, the haggard slaves were lined up one by one to perform a lot of work under the whips of the ogre overseers. Each orc had whip marks on his body.

The numb orcs looked at the messenger with disbelief in their eyes.

Is this orc also a slave? No, he's dressed much better.

"This is the fate of your kind." A group of ogres wearing silk robes were staring at the messenger.

The ogre who was the fattest and tallest among them, and whose clothes were the most gorgeous, and who looked like their leader, spoke.

"The Lord of Sorcery has sent me to hear from your chief," he said.

Even at this time, the ogre still showed arrogance, "You still have five minutes. If you don't satisfy me, you will become one of them."

"Who are you?" The messenger looked up and down. Can this obese fat man take charge?

"I represent the King of Witchcraft, just call me Councilor."

This is his proudest identity. Being able to enter the Council of the Head of State means that he is an ogre that surpasses 99% of ogres.

Of course, in Margok's eyes, this 99% is likely to be stupid.

This does not mean that they are unique, but it means that they are one of the best among the nobles.

"You are not qualified." The messenger snorted coldly, "The order the king told me is to meet your chief."

"Not just any rotten fish or shrimp deserves to be heard."

The envoy looked like he didn't take the ogres seriously, which made them very angry. But what could they do? The envoy looked disdainful. He already knew his fate. He would do whatever it takes to be arrogant and seek death.

In short, it is to let those ogres know that times have changed, now it is the world of orcs, and your so-called nobility is worthless.

It doesn't matter even if he dies, it just inspires the other orcs.

In short, if he could set foot on Highmaul and pretend to be a soldier, he would die without any regrets.

"You——" The ogre councilor leaned forward and bent down, as if a mountain was about to fall on him.

"Aren't you afraid of becoming a slave?"

The messenger opened his mouth to say something, but suddenly stopped. The ogre smiled. He thought the orcs had surrendered to his threat, but the messenger just thought of a better answer.

He glanced at every ogre around him, and then looked at the orc slaves working in the slave pen.

"How long have you been enslaved? How long have your families been living in danger?" He said: "But it doesn't matter, at the latest a week, no orcs will be enslaved here. Chief Hellscream has not forgotten you, don't When you are confused, pick up the shovel and mine in your hands..."

When he wanted to incite the slaves to riot, the congressman stopped him in time.

"Lucky boy." He said with a sullen face, "The King of Witchcraft agreed to summon you."