[center][h2]Ironforge[/h2][/center]

King Magni Bronzebeard and his Honor-Guard marched up the sloping road that fed into the great gates of Ironforge, the distant booms of rifles and mortars being tested were a familiar chorus across the valley. The colossus of Modimus Anvilmar towered over the burly warriors as they continued into the heated halls of the vast citadel, glad to be back. For how industrial the capital was, it was quite cozy and warm, and it felt like home even to visitors. Gate guards saluted their king and gave reverence to their fellows who followed in his wake. 

The main thoroughfare, known as 'the commons' for obvious reasons, erupted in cheers and shouts of 'for khaz modan!' as Magni raised a fist, the tall dwarf striding past his kin that socialized and bartered before the gateway. Even the auctionhouse master went silent, and all those awaiting the next item cried out praises and undulation. Magni always felt most proud to be a dwarf when he walked back into the city, his home. His clan dominated the landscape, and though they numbered hundreds of thousands with the young and old, they were as tight-nit as any family of four. 

He and his men turned southeast toward the military ward, the heat of the great forge kissing their skin even from their distance across the chasm. As they marched in, the Captain of the guard, Morek Ironguard, saluted his king. Black bearded and steely eyed, he was as trustworthy as any human knight to their liege. 

"I take it the meeting went well, high thane." He said formally, though he spoke with the smile of a friend.  

"I had no doubts." Magni Bronzebeard rumbled, gesturing with a wave of his hand for his men to relieve themselves and take a well needed ale for their watchfulness. They passed by two hundred doughty warriors in columns, drilling for the coming conflict. "In two weeks, we'll be passing by Loch Modan and heading north, both ye and me." 

"The council will need something more than what ye've given them." Captain Morek reminded him, the two steel-clad warriors watching as their men stood in formation, training with the axe and shield, moving as one. Ever swing could fell an orc, every shield shove could knock a troll of their balance. The dwarves were short, but they were by no means small. They each weighed at least as much as a grown man, and their armor added another chunk to their muscled forms.

"We'll give them what they'll understand." Magni said, appraising his men as they moved and turned by every command of their lieutenants. "Money and open roads." 

"That'll probably do it," Morek acquiesced. 

"Any news from the expeditionary force?" Magni asked, not taking his eyes from the warriors.

"The one in Northrend, or that other one?" Morek asked, deliberately vague. 

"That other one..."