“They’re animals, ye see?” Ringo Flinthammer said, shifting his rifle on his shoulder as he marched through the Jade Forest.

The jinyu marching next to him, armed as well, turned one eye toward Ringo without turning his head.

“Do you mean the Tauren? Or do more members of the Horde resemble animals?”

“Nay, Ah mean they’re savages who donnae value life th’ way yer people an’ mine dae. In Durotar, they raise their young tae hate and tae kill. Nae orc e’er shed a tear when one o’ their young greenskins died in their trials.”

“I thought there was one you mentioned, the former Warchief …”

“Bah! Thrall may hae dressed it up in a pretty face, but the Horde’s evil by nature — it’s in their demon-tainted blood. Ye do know that ye cannae leave a demon in the same room with an orc without the orc eventually havin’ hisself a drink, right? They tap ’em like a keg!”

The jinyu said nothing in reply, but looked straight ahead. Some of the other fish men marching around them muttered something in their own blubbery tongue.

“Ye didnae see what they did ta Theramore. They should just go back through th’ Dark Portal an’ gae back tae Draenor …”

“ALLIANCE SOLDIERS!” Admiral Taylor’s voice rang out through the trees.

The troops drew to a halt. Over them towered an enormous statue of a dragon, apparently made of jade. Ringo glanced up, wondering, for a moment, how many craftsmen it had taken over how many years to build such a thing — it must rival the Stonewrought Dam as an engineering marvel, especially since Deathwing had shattered the dam.

On the far side of the statue, the Horde troops were waiting for them, including locals they had corralled into their service — the hozen, now armed as part of the Orgrimmar war machine.

“Wait for it, wait for it,” an Alliance captain nearby said, holding back the Alliance troops. Taylor lowered his sword at the Horde.

“FOR THE ALLIANCE!”

And the troops surged forward.