Disclaimer:I own nothing from Blizzard, nor the "Attack on Stormwind city" video in youtube, made by R4T0R. The title comes from the Achievement, where you successfully attack Stormwind Keep.
Author's note:A while ago I watched the video: "Attack on Stormwind city" by R4T0R in youtube, here's the link:
watch?v=Nrh42hk8-z8&list=PL8Z2MehJA6mytki5LEDtL74m_ih2XN9ZO&index=33.
Needless to say, that I loved it. So I decided to write a story about it. Please enjoy! XD
Storming Stormwind
"Sorry kid, but you need to stay here and recover from your withdrawal fever. You're in no state to travel, let alone fight Onyxia and her minions. I'll send for you as soon as we take back Stormwind and I'll have the best healers of my kingdom cure you from your addiction.", Varian whispered at the drowsy Blood Elven girl and pinched her cheek ruffling her wheat blonde hair.
"Light dammit Varian, you blasted fool!", was all that Valeera Sanguinar managed to say, before the sleep potion took her to dreamland. Broll Bearmantle sighed and shook his head.
"She'll be very angry at us when she wakes up, Varian. I wouldn't put it past her is she follows us to Ironforge and kick our arses for leaving her behind.", Broll Bearmantle warned the Warrior King turned gladiator. Varian chuckled at the thought of a very angry Valeera chasing them around Ironforge.
"I know Broll, that's why I payed people to guard her at all times. She's staying here whether she likes it or not. I will see her healed and well as soon as we reclaim my home.", he whispered and picked up his weapon, "come we should get going while the weather is still fit for flying." They walked out of the inn and headed towards the Menethil Harbor flight master. They rented two gryphons, and flew off for the Dwarven Capital to seek help from Magni Bronzebeard, the king of the Dwarves. It would take them a full day to get there, provided that there were no snow storms.
Valeera woke up a day later feeling groggy and angry as hell. 'Those bloody bastards, how could they do this to me after all the help I provided them with? Do they think that I'm some kind of invalid or a prissy little princess unable to take care of herself? I'll show them what the name Sanguinar really stands for. I'll take care of Onyxia way before they finish grovelling around Bronzebeard's feet.', she huffed and made to stand up. She froze in place when she saw the door opening. A Dwarven Priestess walked in, accompanied by two very large Human males.
"Ah, yer awake, lass! How do ya feel?", the Priestess asked the Elf and casted a diagnostic spell on her.
"A bit groggy and dizzy. How long have I been out? And who are you?", Valeera demanded.
"Kara is your healer, miss Sanguinar, and we are your bodyguards. Your two companions payed us good money to keep you here until they send for you, and Kara will ease your withdrawal symptoms.", one of the bodyguards said. 'So they mean to keep me here by force. Ha! As if. Ok, I'll play along.' she scoffed inwardly.
"I see. I'm still feeling very sleepy, do you mind if I sleep a bit, and we talk about this new arrangement in the morning?", she asked sweetly. All three nodded. They didn't know who she was and what she's capable off. In their eyes, she was just another very young stray Elven girl, suffering from the withdrawal symptoms her race was plagued with, ever since Prince Arthas Menethil defiled the Sunwell, forcing Prince Kael'Thas Sunstrider to destroy it in order to stop the corruption from spreading. Surely two full grown men can handle a frail and sick little girl, right?
"Of course, sweetheart, you may rest. Tomorrow we'll talk more about this new arrangement over a whole stack of waffles. We're going to have a lot of fun the four of us.", the other bodyguard said, and pinched her cheek. Then, all three turned around and left. When Valeera could no longer hear them, she got up and got ready. She slipped into her pants and tunic, and fastened her belt and pauldrons. Her attire was completed with her knee high boots and gloves. All skin tight black and red leather of course. A black and red, silken hood and mask covered her head and face, leaving only her white-blonde ponytail exposed. Her weapons were still there, she tucked the stars in her belt, and fastened her long daggers at her sides. She shoved the rest of her belongings in her satchel and opened the window. 'I'm gonna need some sustenance as well, It's a three day trip if I fly along the coastline, and there are no town or villages along that route. Better take a quick detour through the inn's kitchen first.', she thought, and climbed up the roof, heading towards the lower roof top of the kitchen at the back of the inn. It was very easy for her to jump down from there, and she broke into the kitchen via an open window. It was very late, everyone had gone to sleep hours ago. She opened the pantry door and stole two loafs of bread, a big chunk of Loch Modan cheddar cheese and some dried salted meat. She completed her looting by shoving a big skin of water in her satchel, and climbed out of the widow again. It was a cloudy moonless night, the sky was dark. The cold winter weather kept everyone tucked away in their warm beds, not a single soul could be seen anywhere in town. Even the flight master had secured the hippogryphs in the stables and had gone home. Valeera wrapped one of her bodyguard's heavy black woolen cloak around her and sneaked into the stable coaxing, a gryphon out of its roost with a treat. As soon as the animal felt safe and comfortable around her, she climbed on top of it and steered it south towards Stormwind. 'Well that was very easy', Valeera grinned as she let the cold winter air caress her face and hair.
It was dusk when she landed at the plateau over Northshire Abbey. She set camp there, waiting till midnight, and then climbed on the beast again. 'It's now or never, Onyxia must die tonight, no matter what.', she thought with a determined look on her face. Walking into Stormwind from the front gates was completely out of the question. She was a Blood Elf now, a member of the Horde, she would be killed on the spot. And thanks to her magical overdose incident three nights ago, she could not even pass as a High Elf. Not with her eyes glowing green with fel magic. But she had spent the better part of her life as a thief and Rogue, not to mention her gladiator years with Varian and Broll, she had other ways of breaking into a tightly guarded city. She flew her gryphon towards the hill behind the Old town district. Once she landed the mount on a very narrow ledge at the slope overlooking the city, she tied it on a tree. Beneath her, the great Stormwind wall merged into the hill. It was quite a long jump, even for her, but she was confident that she could make it. When the guards walked to the opposite sides of each other, she took a chance and somersaulted on the wall, in stealth mode. She then took the stairs down to the road, without the guards even noticing that something was amiss. 'So far, so good', she chuckled and moved on. As she moved deeper into the Old Town District, she couldn't help the sense of unease that overwhelmed her. 'Something is definitely wrong here. There is dark magic at work here, I'm surprised that the Magi and the Clergy haven't noticed it.', she frowned. She finally spotted the source. A Stormwind guard was walking along the cobbled street, heading for the inn. Dark magic was emanating from his every pore. 'That's not a Human',Valeera realized, as an image of a creature with black serpentine features, four legs and a body of a large lizard flashed in her mind. 'Dragonkin!', she concluded, and jumped behind him and slit his throat. She placed the body half sitting between a crate and a barrel against a wall and headed towards the "Pig and Whistle" tavern. 'He was headed there, there must be more, posing as guards.', she reasoned, and approached the inn with caution. She was right, the whole place reeked with dark magic. She stepped through the door.
Two guardsmen were walking down the road, heading for the tavern, after a long day of patrolling the streets of Stormwind, when they stumbled across the corpse of the guard.
"What is this?", one of them hissed in Dragonkin.
"Some one slew our kind.", hissed the other.
"This will not do at all. It takes a lot of skill to best one of our own, this is the work of a professional. Alert SI:7, let those fools deal with the mortal assassin, I will inform the others in the tavern.", the one in charge hissed, and the other run towards the SI:7 headquarters. As soon as the Dragonkin stepped into the inn, he knew that something was wrong. No one was around, and he could smell blood. His kin's blood. Three more Dragonkin impostors stepped into the inn, and stopped at their tracks as soon as they saw him and smelled blood.
"What happened here?", they asked him. He shrugged.
"I don't know, I just got here.", he hissed, and all four stepped further in. They stumbled across two more corpses of their kin, and growled in frustration and anger that someone, probably a mortal, dared to kill three of their kind. Suddenly, a shadow shot out from the darkness and one of the guards found himself flat on the floor with a dagger embedded in his chest. Another dagger, was swung around and the other's throat was slit. One of them kicked the intruder and she flew up in the air and behind the bar. Before he could charge her though, she threw her dagger right between his eyes, ending his life instantly. Valeera flew out, and pulled the daggers from his skull and the chest of the other impostor, and not a moment too soon. The forth impostor had pulled out his blunderbuss and fired a shot at her. Luckily, she crossed the daggers in front of her and the bullet bounced off them pushing her backwards and behind the bar again. Before the Dragonkin could pull his sword and fight her, she kicked him in the chest and dropped him on the table. She jumped on top of him and plunged both her daggers in his chest. 'Five down, Light knows how many more to go.', she chuckled. 'Off to the keep I go.', she merrily hummed and skipped out of the inn.
Special Agent David Mulder, the "Fox", put his mug of steaming black coffee on his desk as he read the reports. 'This kingdom is going straight to the nether.', he mused, 'Lady Prestor is either grossly incompetent, a complete imbecile, or an outside agent bent on sabotaging the realm. There is no other explanation. How can she blatantly ignore the Blackrock Orc threat, when all they've been doing for the past three years is pillage the Redridge province. Ogres from the Deadwind Pass raid Darkshire on a monthly basis. There are more undead sightings reports from Duskwood, and the Defias brotherhood is wreaking havoc all over Westfall. And all that Katrana does, is laugh, throw her hair back and dismiss it all as over exaggerations of overzealous agents. And where the fuck is Bolvar during all this? Playing cabana boy to her ladyship of course. Fucking hell, we've all been smitten by a pretty face at some point in our lives, but we kept our wits about us. It's like he's never had any before. He is the damn Regent Lord of Storwind, what kind of kingdom is he suppose to deliver to Prince Anduin, when he allows that bitch run the show? Oh King Varian, if only you were still alive! First, you disappear on your way to Theramore, then, you appear again, only to die coming back. I wonder, is this kingdom cursed to fall, just like Lordaeron and Quel'Thalas?', he finished his coffee, put away the reports he just read and walked towards the door. The evening was unusually warm, it was not raining for a change, and he could even see the stars. He preferred doing the night shift, there were less people around, and he could hear him self think for a change. But all he thought about lately, was the impending doom that would eventually befall the kingdom if things did not change soon.
Stormwind was not always Mulder's home. He was born in Lordaeron. He lived in Stratholme until the age of twelve. Then the plague came. And one by one, all of his family members became ill and died. He was lucky. He had an intolerance in grain since birth, he could never stomach it, so he never ate the bread. His little brother was the first to die. Then his mother. His father was a big, burly man, it took him a couple of days before he succumbed to the plague. And then, the Prince came. He thought that salvation has finally arrived in the form of their crown Prince and Princess. Alas, they slaughtered everyone indiscriminately. They had no choice, they had a kingdom to save, and the reports they got was that everyone has eaten the grain. How could they possibly believe that a young boy has never eaten a single piece of bread in his entire life? Or any grain products for that matter. David was a smart boy. He heard the conversations between the Royal siblings and a High Elven Priestess, they were certain that every single man woman and child in the city will succumb to the plague and will rise as an undead monster by sundown. The entire city had to be purged. So David decided to hide from all of them and flee when he got the chance. He hid behind crates and on roof tops. He watched as everyone he knew fell under "Light's Vengeance's" blows, or the Princesses' arrows, or the Priestess' "Smites". Others died by the swords of the Prince's guardsmen and troops or the Farstriders' arrows. But most of them had already transformed into zombies. So much violence, so much death! And to top it all the impossible was happening right before his very eyes. The dead were walking again, and attacking the living. And a demon had just taunted the Prince to come find him at a place he called Northrend, after the Paladin beat him to a pulp with his weapon. Panic creeped up David's spine, when the Princess ordered the troops to set the city on fire. They had to ensure that the plague died here. That no one, whether alive or undead was allowed to escape and spread the disease and undeath everywhere else. He had to run now. Stratholme was his home, he knew it like the back of his hand, every road, lane, short cut, hidden passages. He jumped into the sewers and was at the lake in minutes. Hiding behind bushes and boulders, he found the cave at the western side of the city and used it to get to river on the other side. From there it was easy to pretend that he was just another countryside orphan.
It took him weeks to get to the capital. He stole and scavenged for food on his way there. He continued this practice in the city, until the Prince returned to Lordaeron months later. Hundreds gathered to celebrate his return. That spelled heaven for David, because he would be able to pick so many pockets. That meant months' worth of salted meats and cheese. He couldn't eat any bread, so his dietary preferences were much too expensive for a boy of his status. It wasn't even noon yet, and already, he had ten gold in his pocket. If he kept this up, he would have twenty gold by sundown. The crowd was roaring, the Prince was approaching. David ventured closer. His small size allowed him to get right at the front. The prince's large frame was looming closer to David's position. He looked different, everything about him felt wrong. His armor was black, and most of his body, including his head was covered by a long black cloak. David wanted to get a better look of his face. He was pale as a ghost from afar. Wisps of long white hair were hanging limb around his face. David decided to get a reaction out of him. He touched the cloak in an attempt to pick his pocket. A gauntleted hand grabbed his. Cold crept up his arm, the likes of which his has never felt before. And he has lived in Northern Lordaeron his whole life. He looked up, and gasped. Those eyes, once warm and caring were now cold and cruel. Inhuman. With a smirk, the Prince let go of his arm and moved on. David didn't wait for the screaming to start. He fled the city. The North had already proven to be unsafe, Stratholme and Andorhal were already lost, so he fled towards the South. Dalaran was the safest choice. Alas, it fell within months. David found himself boarding a ship to Stormwind from Southshore on his thirteenth birthday. As soon as he landed he resumed with picking the pockets of unsuspecting travelers and shoppers in the harbor and at the Trade District. His ingenuity and talent caught the attention of Spymaster Shaw, who took him under his wing. So here he was, seven years later, an SI:7 agent, a Stormwind Assassin, tasked to protect Stormwind and the Alliance from every threat, both foreign and domestic. He stood on the door now, and spotted a guard running towards him. He skidded to a halt, and saluted the Rogue.
"Report!", Mulder ordered him.
"Grave news, Agent Mulder. We discovered a royal guard murdered at the Old Town district. It looks like a professional hit. I think we have an intruder.", the guard said.
"Sound the alarm.", Mulder barked, and soon the trumpets were heard all over the city. He pulled his Rogue's scarf from his pocket, fastened it around his lower face, grabbed his daggers and run with a group of guards towards the keep. A royal guard murdered in the Old Town district and so close to the keep is no coincidence. You don't need to be a genius to realize that the assassin is headed for the royal palace. Anduin himself could be the target. And David Mulder will not allow the only heir to the throne, the last surviving member of the Wrynn dynasty to perish in his watch. He was right, there was a trail of dead guards starting from the "Pig and Whistle" tavern, leading all the way to the outer gates of the keep.
'Damn, will their numbers ever decrease? How many Human guards did that bitch replace with Dragonkin? It's been over an hour, and I still haven't made it past the front gate! And now, the fucking alarm has been sounded. Oh, Varian and Broll are going to laugh at my face if I make it all the way here and still fail to even get close to her.', she bit her lower lip as she killed what felt like the fiftieth Dragonkin impostor. Suddenly, another dagger intercepted hers. She looked up in surprise, and locked eyes with a masked Human. He was also clad in black leather, his long black hair was pulled back in a pony tail, just like Varian's. His gray eyes glared at her with a ferocity that sent chills up her spine. She quickly recovered and jumped away from him, only to jump again and collide her blades with his. The impact sent them both flying in opposite directions, they skidded to a halt after a few meters and charged at each other again. They were evenly matched, the Human may had greater strength and size, but Valeera had agility and haste. They swirled and cart wheeled towards each other, their blades meeting each other dozens of times, sparks flying from them. It was like the laws of nature didn't work for them, they would fly up in the air, jump on ledges and roof tops, and then come back down together clashing their daggers at each other. It was like a dance for them, a spontaneous choreography specially written just for the Elf and the Human. She could have danced with him all night. But alas, she did not have the luxury of time. The longer she played with this Human, the harder it would become for her to slay Onyxia, as more guards would run to her rescue. But she couldn't kill him. No, she will not slay one of Varian's loyal subjects. Her blades were only meant to slay Onyxia and her Dragonkin tonight, she will NOT kill any Humans. She had no choice, she had to distract him somehow.
Mulder was surprised to see that the intruder was a small Sindorei female. True, Quel'Thalas had seceded from the Alliance following Grand Marshal Garithos' appalling treatment of Prince Kael'Thas and his army, and joined the Horde, but to actually see a former friend and ally attack his beloved city really bothered the "Fox". He watched as she flew and glided amongst the guards in a unnatural speed slitting the throats of most, yet sparing the SI:7 agents by knocking them out. 'Well that's weird', he thought. But he didn't have time to analyze the Elf's bizarre behavior, she needed to be stopped, detained and interrogated before they run out of guards. Mulder was very curious as to why Thrall would chose to stir up trouble now, when king Varian has been gone for over three years. He could have done this much earlier, and gotten rid of Anduin in the peace summit in Theramore. Besides, Thrall was no warmongering lunatic, he was very logical and reserved for an Orc and determined to find a place for his people in Azeroth where they could live in peace and prosperity. 'I need to ask her about this, when I arrest her', he decided and went on to intercepted her before she decapitated a guard. But he was too late. The guard's head rolled down the stone steps of the keep. He charged her again, only to be kicked down the stairs, for the second time this evening. She nearly threw him in the canal, earlier.
She was almost at the gates of the keep, fighting with the guards stationed there, taking out two at a time, while knocking agents out, again. He jumped high up in the air and landed right in front of her, side kicking her across the terrace and past the fountain. He jumped after her and intercepted her daggers again. The force of their impact sent them flying down the stairs again. They each landed on a pillar at the base of the stairs. They charged each other once more. Their daggers met and they flew away on opposite directions. A light, slicing move down his face, cut off the scarf that was hiding his face, dealing a very faint scar on his cheek, under his eye. A similar move revealed her face and an identical cut appeared on her cheek, courtesy of his dagger. Her eyes grew wide at the sight of his face, while he gasped at the stunning beauty before him. He almost dropped his daggers from the shock. Yes, Blood Elves were good looking as a race, yes, Blood Elven females were the most beautiful women in Azeroth. But her looks surpassed every expectation he ever had about her species. He recovered quickly, and tried to defend himself from her half baked attempts to disarm him. It was like she was enjoying sparring with him. He knew that he sure did. But their time was up, more guards and SI:7 agents joined the dance, and soon the stairs of the keep was stained by the blood of the guards. But not the agents. They were just knocked out again. 'Curious, why would she spare some, while killing mercilessly others?', Mulder wondered, as he run back inside the long corridor of the keep, after the assassin kicked him down the stairs...'AGAIN...she's kicking your arse, Fox!', he chastised himself.'
'By the Sunwell, he is gorgeous. Like a younger version of Varian. Minus the scars. And the frown. And the surliness. And the broodiness. And the passive aggressiveness, of course. My personal mission after I take back Stormwind, is to get to know him better. Much, much better. Perhaps he'll be the one who finally takes my virginity, since Mr. Prim and Proper is too much of a gentleman and a good boy to bed someone as young as me. I'm seventeen damn it! If I wanna sleep with a thirty year old Human, it's my decision and choice. Where does he get to lecture me about how wrong that would be. And right after he returned drunk as a skunk, having taken part in an orgy with two Sindorei, a troll and a Human. Did he think that those girls were much older than me? Poor, deluded Varian. Snap out of it Valeera, they will rip you into pieces, if you continue to allow your mind to drift off like that.', Valeera shook her head and took out two Dragonkin impostors at a time, knocking out several agents that were in her way.
The gorgeous human was scrambling up to his feet again, after she had kicked him down the stairs for the fourth time this evening. She could finally see her. At the far end of the corridor, looking imperiously at the battle before her, holding her staff with one hand, her blue eyes daring her to come closer, so that she could snuff the life right out of her. Valeera charged at her with renewed resolve. She killed the impostors in her path, knocking out all the Humans, as she approached Onyxia in full speed. A guard appeared before her, and shot a barrage of bullets with his rifle. She crossed her daggers in front of her again and dodged them all. She could hear foot steps behind her, approaching her rapidly, she dared a glimpse. It was the gorgeous Stormwind Assassin again. 'Blast his resiliency and stamina, what do I have to do to knock him out?', she wondered.
There was only one thing left to do, now that she was so close to Onyxia. Siphoning all of her magical reserves, she casted the most powerful "Arcane Torrent" spell she could muster. The entire corridor was flooded by a powerful and blinding white light, disarming and knocking away everyone within her proximity. She jumped high up in the air, planning to somersault behind Onyxia and deal her a couple of cheap shots, before she chopped her head off. Alas, as she was high up in the air, right above her, two giant black leathery true Dragon wings appeared at Onyxia's back. Valeera slid down their length at the last moment, instead of crushing on them, trying to plunge her daggers at the back of Onyxia's head. 'Kael'Thas' balls, she's a real Dragon, and not Dragonkin as we thought, fuck, how can I possibly take her out?', she wondered, as she failed to deal the fatal blows, and found her self being thrown off her. She landed next to the guardsman with the riffle. She slit his throat within seconds, and took the riffle, firing a barrage of bullets at Onyxia. But with a move of her staff, she intercepted them. There was only one bullet left. She aimed at the chandelier above Onyxia's head and fired. It was dropping on her head, and she just stood there, smirking at Valeera. And a second later, Valeera realized why. Her gorgeous SI:7 agent had recovered and was now jumping towards the falling chandelier. He intercepted it mere inches from Onyxia's head, landing with it behind her. The Dragon smirked again and made the silencing move at Valeera. 'Not like they would have believed me anyway, you Draconian bitch!', Valeera swore a very vulgar Orcish oath, and run towards the exit.
'I can't fight her any longer, there is no way I can defeat a full grown Dragon, not when there are so may innocent agents around her. I killed so many of her minions, and Varian will soon know that he is dealing with a Dragon, this mission was not in vain. I need to haul arse to Ironforge like yesterday, before Onyxia gets to replace her fallen minions. She was nearing the wall now. She jumped up, and looked back. "Her" gorgeous Rogue was running about a hundred yards behind her. He stopped as soon as she stopped. They locked eyes. Valeera felt very hot all of a sudden, her hood was constricting her. So she removed it, shaking her corn silk pony tail. They both touched their identical scars, as if on cue. 'I'm in love!', Valeera realized, as she jumped off the wall and on the ledge, where her griffon was tethered at. She mounted him, and flew out into the night.
Mulder run up the stairs of the keep at full speed after the Elf had kicked him down for the fourth time. He was getting close to the beautiful Rogue. Unfortunately, a flash of bright white light blinded them all. It took him several minutes to recover, but he was the first to do so. He heard gunshots. He looked up, and saw that his Rogue had aimed and fired at the chandelier right above Lady Prestor. 'So that's who she's really after! But what for, she is ruining the Kingdom anyways, shouldn't the Horde be very happy about that?', he wondered. He run to save the Lady from the falling chandelier. And for reasons he could not explain, instead of pushing her away, he chose to jump high in the air and push the falling "tree" away. And against all odds, he succeeded at at that. Not without banging his head and several other parts of his body on it.
By the time he, and everyone else recovered, the assassin was running full speed down the stairs, and as far away from the keep as possible. A quick look, reassured him that Lady Prestor was alright. He then took after the assassin, he had to capture her, he had to question her, he had to know why she was so picky on who she killed and who she spared. Why did she spare him? He was very embarrassed to admit that she bested him a couple of times during their dance...er fight, yet she did not kill him. She just kicked him away. And what forced her to flee? She could have easily killed Lady Prestor, why would she just run away like that after she defeated them all. He was about a hundred yards behind her, she was heading towards the outer walls behind the old town. When she reached the walls and run up the stairs, she looked back. They locked eyes. As if on cue, they both touched the identical scars under their eyes. Then the assassin turned around and jumped. By the time Mulder reached the wall, she had disappeared. And he knew, right there and then. He was hopelessly and desperately in love with that Blood Elf. And then he passed out, his concussion from the impact with the chandelier, finally catching up at him. He forgot about many things that night. Like how he saved Lady Prestor from the falling chandelier. It took weeks for the the rest of the agents present at the incident to convince him of that. And where he stood during the final stages of the fight, before he took after the Rogue, as she fled Stormwind. But there was one thing that was burned into his memory forever. The beautiful, angelic face of the Elven seductress that stole his heart that night.
The End?
Author's note: I thought it would be really funny if I named the Rogue who fights Valeera, David "Fox" Mulder from the X-Files, my all time favorite series, and the actor who plays Special Agent Fox Mulder, David Duchovny. I claim no ownership over either Mulder, nor the actor. XD