Azeroth Monster Manual

“Oh, Kurdran, if you steal my wine again, don't blame me for kicking your butt!”

Hemit snatched the wineskin from Kurdran Wildhammer's hand and guzzled it down, all the while taunting him.

“What a cheapskate.”

Kurdran wiped the wine stains from his mouth, weighed the empty wineskin in his hand, and grumbled in dissatisfaction.

The two stocky dwarves walked through the white snow, bickering as they went.

“Hey, where are we actually going…”

“Shh!”

The old dwarf stopped Kurdran, who was still grumbling, and covered his mouth.

Hemit seemed to have noticed something. He took the hunting rifle from his back and slowly crouched down like a lithe cheetah, his eyes seeming to shoot out sharp light as he stared intently in one direction.

No sooner said than done, before Kurdran could react, a violent roar suddenly rang out.

“Bang!”

A misty smoke swirled around the muzzle, and with a deafening gunshot, a huge behemoth in the distance crashed to the ground.

“Aha! We're in for a treat today.”

The old dwarf excitedly put away his hunting rifle and darted out with a stride. It was hard to imagine that a stout man with a short stature could actually run so fast he left afterimages. Kurdran shook his head with a wry smile, then quickly caught up with the old dwarf's pace.

…

Meanwhile, Aier and his group were sitting around the campfire, chatting and laughing. The restless Brann Bronzebeard was excitedly recounting his adventurous life, while Muradin Bronzebeard sat beside him, occasionally adding details.

“Ha, Master Aier, you don't know, when we two brothers were exploring the Frostmane Hold in the early days, it was really fraught with danger…”

The crackling sound of the fire rose, and the orange-red flames illuminated everyone's faces, making them glow red. It had been a day and a half since they set off from Ironforge.

Initially, to save time, Aier suggested using a portal to travel to Uldaman. But unfortunately, even the Bronzebeard dwarves, who were natives, did not have the teleport coordinates for the Badlands (the area where Uldaman is located).

So Aier had to choose the most time-consuming 'stupid method'. After departing from Ironforge, they first went to the Loch Modan (Northeast area of Dun Morogh), then passed through North Gate Pass to Loch Modan, and finally rode the dwarves' unique crag boars through the cliffs of Loch Modan to reach the Badlands (where Uldaman is located).

Originally, Aier wanted to ride a gryphon, but unfortunately, there were no extra gryphons in Ironforge for them to use.

Helpless, Aier could only comfort himself and treat it as a trip.

It is worth mentioning that the big-mouthed Hemit, after getting drunk once, activated Kurdran Wildhammer's communication stone and boasted about the agreement between Aier and the Bronzebeard brothers.

Thus, at the request of Kurdran and Falstad, Aier had to agree to the Wildhammer dwarves' application to join the team.

With Kurdran's joining, this exploration team, or rather, exploration brigade, was more appropriate.

The number of people in this exploration brigade had reached a considerable level, with more than fifty people.

The number of elves was small. Apart from Aier, only Kael'thas and Rommath remained.

The Muradin brothers brought fifteen elite Mountain Guard of epic rank. Finally, Kurdran, upon receiving the news, also led fifteen Gryphon Riders to join the team.

Although this team was not large, they were all top-notch experts, and even the weakest had an initial epic rank.

This was exactly what Aier required, because he knew that the Titan ruins of Uldaman were full of dangers. Since Archaedas closed Uldaman (there will be a detailed background introduction later), nearly eight thousand years had passed since any intelligent beings had set foot there. Coupled with the secrets hidden deep within the ruins, all of this made Aier extremely vigilant.

At this time, Brann was gesticulating and boasting about his adventure, and the dwarves' hearty laughter rang out one after another. All of this was so beautiful, until…

Aier, who had been looking content, suddenly changed his expression, and then a blue light curtain instantly lit up.

“Bang, bang, bang…”

Dull sounds, like blunt objects hitting cowhide, rang out densely, and ripples like those on water appeared on the azure arcane protective barrier.

Muradin stood up abruptly, and he quickly took a sharp short ax and a heavy one-handed hammer from his waist. His eyes flickered with solemnity, and his beard and hair were all stretched out as he looked at the scene outside the light curtain.

As a rustling sound rang out, dense blue figures appeared in everyone's sight.

“Damn it, it's those Frostmane scum!”

After seeing the scene in front of him, Brann, who had always been carefree, was no longer as cheerful as before. He nimbly picked up a rough-looking hunting rifle and began indiscriminate shooting without even aiming.

“Wait, Muradin, don't go out yet! Wait for them to get closer!”

The boy's shout pulled Muradin, who was about to enter the battlefield, back.

The boy calmly looked at the blue tide that was gradually becoming clearer on the horizon. He knew that these blue figures were trolls, a kind of troll he had never seen but had heard of - the Frostmane trolls.

Frostmane trolls, a major branch of the Frost trolls (there are three known tribes, namely the Zandalari, Frostmane, and Winterax). The skin color of the Frostmane trolls is any shade between white and blue.

The representative characteristics of the Frostmane trolls (Frost trolls) are thick sideburns and cool-toned skin.

Strictly speaking, the Frostmane trolls were the original natives of Dun Morogh, and the dwarves were the culprits who occupied the magpie's nest.

With the rise of Anvilmar (the dwarven emperor), Ironforge was also built.

In this way, the Frostmane trolls' kingdom was destroyed by the Bronzebeard dwarves, and these natives of Dun Morogh had to break up into pieces and flee into the mountains.

This was a great shame to their warlike nature. When Modimus Anvilmar's (the former Ironforge monarch, the father of the Bronzebeard brothers) army was busy dealing with the War of the Three Hammers and the Stone Golems, the Frostmane trolls seized the opportunity to drive out the dwarves and restore Dun Morogh.

They lurked in the mountains like a maggot in the bone. Among some of the older rangers, there was a terrifying legend: although these blue demons were everywhere, they were not unorganized and undisciplined.

In a mysterious fortress - Frostmane Hold, the Frostmane trolls' chieftain was brewing a vicious conspiracy to subvert the rule of the Bronzebeard dwarves and let the glory of the Frostmane trolls once again spread over this ancient land.

Recalling the history of the Frostmane trolls, Aier was not in a hurry to act, but lowered his eyelids and thought carefully. The legendary arcane protective barrier he released could last for a long time at least.

Roughly estimating the number of Frostmane trolls, the boy could not help but frown slightly.

“Over ten thousand? This is really a headache.”

Looking at the blue wave surging towards them like a mountain flood, the decision to fight or flee was imminent.

Just as El was contemplating, a clear phoenix cry rang out, and with the surge of brilliant golden runes, the beautiful figure of the Phoenix - Ona appeared above the Frostmane troll's head.

This beautiful divine creature, like an elegant gentleman, occasionally sprinkled patches of fiery red glass in the air.

But unfortunately, the screams that rang out from time to time in the troll formation added a touch of gloom to this beautiful picture.

Ona continuously released her own legendary-level fire magic, while Kael'thas and Rommath joined forces to create a super-large flame storm, scorching a large blank space in the dense troll formation.

“Teacher, there are really too many of these trolls.”

Kael'thas said anxiously to El while flinging out the phoenix flames he had condensed in his hand.

“Boom…”

The seventh-circle forbidden spell, burning with raging flames, blasted apart hundreds of troll squads that were about to approach the protective barrier, and a gust of cold wind blew, gradually dispersing the pervasive smoke.

But what chilled Kael'thas to the bone was that these Frostmane trolls, like emotionless machines, had no intention of retreating at all.

On the contrary, as time passed, the originally extremely solid protective barrier had become precarious under the trolls' indiscriminate attacks.

“Rommath, Kael'thas, you two are responsible for reinforcing the protective barrier, give me five minutes.”

Before the words were finished, El began to construct a teleportation portal. In the end, he decided to temporarily leave this place first.

Although there were many of these trolls, El was not to be trifled with.

Since acquiring the Loa power (Poison) of Hir'eek, he was no longer afraid of this kind of large-scale cluster warfare.

A small scene of ten or twenty thousand like this was even more of a piece of cake for El.

But looking at the essence through the appearance, he always felt that something was wrong.

It was true that the Frostmane trolls were gregarious creatures, but in order to escape the encirclement and suppression of the hill patrols, these cunning blue-skinned creatures had long learned to break up into smaller groups.

Except for the annual 'pillaging', these Frostmane trolls would never mobilize on such a large scale.

And this attack, no matter how you looked at it, was full of weirdness.

This work is organized and uploaded by ~ ~

El thought to himself.

Soon, five minutes later, the azure blue teleportation portal gradually took shape.

After the young man gave a shout, he took the lead and walked in, and the rest of the people followed closely behind him into the teleportation portal.

“Lord El!”

“Master El!”

Hemet, carrying a snow-white Dun Morogh bear on his back, was standing nervously outside the teleportation portal.

When he saw that El and his party were unharmed, he breathed a sigh of relief.

Kurdan was also full of nervousness, knowing that in addition to the 15 companions, his 'good brother' Sky'ree was also over there.

“We'll talk later, Lord Kurdan, I need you to lead your gryphon riders to scout the situation within a radius of twenty kilometers, and it's best to find out the movements of the Frostmane trolls.”

El said in a deep voice.

Receiving the order, Kurdan did not dare to delay, and with Sky'ree's soft cry, fifteen gryphons carried their masters and soared into the distance.

“Hemett, give me the map.”

Casually extinguishing the shimmering teleportation portal, El reached out and took the parchment map that Hemet handed over.

“Lord Muradin, do you know where we are now?”

Hearing El's inquiry, Muradin, who had been fighting for more than ten minutes, couldn't bother to wipe the sweat from his cheeks and the blood from his armor, and came to the young man's side, carefully identifying the location of the crowd on the map.

“Let me do it, Muradin.”

Brann also leaned next to Muradin, taking the parchment handed over by his brother.

If it came to combat power, Muradin could leave this 'unemployed' brother two streets behind.

But when it came to wild survival and archaeological tomb raiding, Brann dared to say that no one dared to say he was second.

“Hemett, do you remember which direction we left from after we just walked out of the camp?”

Brann raised his head and asked softly.

“Um, let me think… It should be east.”

Hemett threw the behemoth on his back to the ground, and the thousands of pounds of bear smashed a deep pit in the fluffy snow.

After a moment, Brann pointed to a footnote on the map and said to El:

“Master El, we should now be about three hundred kilometers southeast of Kharanos (Dwarf Town), and the place where we just camped is about seven or eight kilometers away from here.”

The young man nodded knowingly and continued to ask:

“Lord Brann, these Frostmane trolls have come strangely and in large numbers, I hope you can make a decision as soon as possible.”

Brann nodded solemnly.

El's words made sense.

In nearly two hundred years, he had never seen such a large-scale invasion of Frostmane trolls.

If he couldn't notify his eldest brother (Magni Bronzebeard) in time, these troll trash would cause irreparable losses.

Just as everyone was discussing, Kurdan came back.

“How is it, Lord Kurdan?”

Muradin grabbed Kurdan's arm and asked anxiously.

Kurdan stroked Sky'ree's feathers and said with a serious expression:

“The situation is not optimistic, those Frostmane trolls are heading northwest.

I just roughly estimated that the number of this troll army is at least fifty thousand.”

“How is that possible…”

Muradin muttered to himself with dull eyes.

“Muradin, don't hesitate any longer, we should immediately tell this news to our eldest brother, if we continue to hesitate like this, then everything will be too late!”

Brann shouted anxiously from the side.

El and Kael'thas and others exchanged glances and shook their heads with a wry smile.

“It seems that our adventure trip this time is going to end early.”

El said jokingly, in exchange for the apologetic eyes of the Bronzebeard brothers.

“Sorry, Master El, this time…”

Before Muradin could finish speaking, El waved his hand to interrupt him.

“Are we friends?”

“But…”

“As the commander of the Alliance, I have the right, and even more the obligation, to protect the safety of my allies, so I am willing to do my part in this Battle of Kharanos.”

As El spoke, Kurdan and others also expressed their positions one by one, all willing to contribute their own strength.

“Thank you! Thank you, Master El, thank you everyone.”

Muradin and Brann said gratefully.

So, as everyone walked into the Ironforge teleportation portal, this adventure that had not yet begun ended hastily.