Disclaimer:
I do not own units or places from Warcraft.
The Spreading of the Blight
1 Chapter 1
Kamandor Cieceland woke up with a grunt as cheerful shouts rang across the large carrier ship where he was stationed. The young footman stood up and looked out across the sea at a large dock leading into an even bigger settlement and a tired smile spread across his face. The dock was one of many in Kaer'Iidan, a large settlement in northwest Lordaeron. The footmen had never been happier to see a dock in all of his life, the sight like a beacon to him, he had to constrain himself from jumping over the edge of the boat and swimming there.
Kamandor was a young man who had been accepted in the Lordaeron army just a few weeks past and already he was beginning to doubt his decision. He had unlucky been assigned to the 354th division who apparently were being shipped out to some town on Lordaeron's coastal beach lands on a mission to "later be explained in detail". Kamandor and 30 other men had been on the carrier ship for nine days and were literally jumping when they saw the first piece of land behind the various docks in the area. An oil rig rose far above the carrier ship, dropping large piles of oil onto the boat.
When the boat pulled into the dock the armored footmen jumped onto the wooden passageways leading toward the city. Kamandor looked over the large buildings that rose above the docks, this town was definitely not some small village, but it looked positively safe. Kamandor couldn't help wondering why they were here. He looked out past the heads of his comrades and looked at the leader of the 354th division, a chivalrous paladin by the name of Khaidor Whitemare. He was one of the few paladins who since the second war, still rode atop a mighty steer like the knights preferred on doing. Kamandor gave a large groan as he realized by the confused looked on Khaidor's face that he didn't know why they were here either. Kamandor couldn't help but laugh at his older brother, a high-ranking paladin, and he still didn't know a thing.
Kamandor was sitting in the towns only bar having a whispered conversation with his brother. He had taken off his armour and his helmet didn't conceal his face any longer, showing off his short spiky black hair, and his thin yet muscular frame. His brother's long wavy black hair and great bulk, made them seem more like father and son than brothers.
"The militia leader told me that the reason for all the secrecy is because of a newly discovered blight fields in the area!" Khaidor said nearly dropping his drink.
"Blight? This far out! Impossible, the scourge could never had snuck into these parts with someone knowing, why they would have to pass through Brakake just to get into these town!"
"Brakake is no more Kam, it was destroyed just a few days ago. All inhabitants were killed," the paladin spoke sadly for Brakake was the village where him and his bother, like to vacation, they had many friend who lived there, "Recent reports from the locals say that fields of blight have been spotted all over the beachside. That means that the undead are spreading, they have already destroyed Brakake and it seems that this town is next…apparently this town is a vital resource for oil and it can't be evacuated like most towns threatened by the scourge but they couldn't send in a more numerous division because of recent orc attacks, they knew that if we found out that we were to fight those things that we probably wouldn't have came at all…and I am one of the only paladin leaders of the divisions you know."
Kamandor sat their speechless for a couple of seconds the crept out of his shock.
"So what do they purpose we do, take on a whole swarm with our mere 30 men? Its suicide!" screamed Kamandor no longer concerned about who heard him.
"Do control yourself brother! They want us to travel out…into the bad lands…into the heart of the blight fields. There are about seven different undead settlements in which we know about, but at the rate this blight is growing there is bound to be more. They want us to establish a settlement there…"
"A settlement!? Where the undead thrive, where the blight grows! Are they all mad?"
"Brother, calm yourself. They don't expect us to destroy every last one of them, just one. Listen carefully, the reason why the blight is growing so fast is because of a powerful being…a lich by the name of Jajar Blacktongue. Jajar is far more powerful than even the tremendous power of a normal lich. Instead of practicing the magicks of the winters, he simply wields the daemon-corrupted magic of the long-gone orcish warlocks. He is a powerful foe, but I am confident that I can destroy him and his blight but I will need others to defeat his undead minions. They tell me that I only get to bring 5 footmen with me down into the blight, the rest are to stay in the town for defense just incase I should fail. That's why we need to build a settlement, to recruit more fighters! Now you have to keep the between you and me, tell no one!"
Kamandor nodded and stood up, saying goodbye to his brother he went off into the inn where his division were currently resting although he didn't get much sleep knowing that tomorrow, he would have to go into blight covered badlands with only four other footmen…and he forgetful brother.
2 Chapter 2
Kamandor stood was again in his heavy plate mail shifting his shoulder pads from side to side. In his left hand a small iron shield with a small bayonet attached to it. In his right a large clumsy sword, which was dented beyond, believe. He looked jealously at his brother's large mithril kite shield and large war hammer created from adamantite. His brother galloped around with his horse while the other four footmen looked around confused as to why they weren't with the others.
Kamandor had noted down the footmen in his mind, a grumpy dwarf who held an axe instead of the traditional sword, a red-haired brute who looked like he swallowed bricks for breakfast with the large muscles erupting through his already tight armour, a two twins, each looked like small imps compared to the others, standing at only 5 feet or another. There was also Matt and Pat, two peasants who had been promised 100 gold pieces each by the militia officials if they came.
"Alright men, follow me. I'll explain why you have been called here on the way," the proud paladin called from atop his steer.
The men stood motionless with there mouths agape as he told them. When he couldn't get them to move a step further he decided that they should set the camp there. Lucky the place where he was supposed to go was nearby and close enough that they could start their settlement.
"Okay, here is the plan, there is a nearby plains-dwelling elf village which is here in the badlands. They have agreed to help us for supplies. So I'm going to ask you two peasants to begin chopping lumber, me and the footmen will look for goldmine, if you see anything, run towards that direction. You will meet the Elves there."
With that said and done he handed over a few piles of gold to the peasants (to buy things from the Elves he told them) and he set off into the wilderness of the badlands with the footmen.
Kamandor looked around his eyes shifting from left to right very quickly. He saw atop a distant hill, a purplish black substance floating on the ground and turned everything it touched, including trees and a small stream into a rotten black color. Khaidor looked around but saw no gold mine, only miles and miles of plain. That's when he heard a scream and turned around. A centaur with a sword in hand had one of the footmen by the throat and another with a mace was charging toward the dwarf. Three more centaurs came into few and began firing wave after wave of arrows from their bows. From behind the centaur archers a large hulking figure came into view. Two ugly heads jutted from its immense girth and it held a large wooden club in its hand.
"Creeps, quick everyone group together, then attack," Khaidor cursed himself for being so stupid.
He had forgotten that most of the outskirts of town were full of bandits called creeps who attacked random adventures in search for gold or just mindless beast who had nothing better to do. A group of centaurs led by an ogre…could this get any worse he thought. Wait! Ogres usually only guarded gold mines, he looked behind the ogre and saw a large heap of stone in the shape of a dome, and gold glitter from inside it.
The group had packed together back-to-back swords and axes raised. Khaidor closed his eyes and concentrated on his holy sprit and suddenly around him erupted a large shield of holy light. He ran towards the ogre war hammer raised. The ogre smashed down upon the paladin but didn't hit him because the shield deflected the club causing it to crack and diminish to dust. Khaidor's hammer literally grew with the holy light, and he brought in down through the large ogre and it fell towards the ground. Dead.
Kamandor and the others fought the centaurs the archers had already died easily killed for their arrows couldn't penetrate through the footmen's shields. The warrior centaurs however were as strong as two men and quite as tall to. One of the twins lay bleeding on the ground and the red-haired brute appeared to be dead his head twisted in a impossible manner.
Suddenly the centaurs stopped fighting and looked above the hills. They looked at their fallen ogre-leader and ran off. The footmen fell to the ground exhausted, one of the twins trying to wake his brother. Khaidor walked towards the bleeding twin and cast his most useful magic spell after the battle, "healing". Suddenly wounds healed, the twin jumped upon Khaidor thanking him repeatedly.
Kamandor looked up in the direction that the centaurs were and wondered why they ran…he turned around just in time to see his brother and the other footmen walking away towards the settlement.
3 Chapter 3
It had been two weeks in the badlands and the scourge still hadn't made a move toward the city of Kaer'Iidan. Kamandor was wondering was this trip even necessary if they were going to attack the city like his brother had predicted. He had stayed in the badlands and had grown used to it, but he still wanted to leave. The food was terrible, the environment terrible, and where the blight was the area was always drained of life, black and dreary.
TO BE CONTINUED
I do not own units or places from Warcraft.
The Spreading of the Blight
1 Chapter 1
Kamandor Cieceland woke up with a grunt as cheerful shouts rang across the large carrier ship where he was stationed. The young footman stood up and looked out across the sea at a large dock leading into an even bigger settlement and a tired smile spread across his face. The dock was one of many in Kaer'Iidan, a large settlement in northwest Lordaeron. The footmen had never been happier to see a dock in all of his life, the sight like a beacon to him, he had to constrain himself from jumping over the edge of the boat and swimming there.
Kamandor was a young man who had been accepted in the Lordaeron army just a few weeks past and already he was beginning to doubt his decision. He had unlucky been assigned to the 354th division who apparently were being shipped out to some town on Lordaeron's coastal beach lands on a mission to "later be explained in detail". Kamandor and 30 other men had been on the carrier ship for nine days and were literally jumping when they saw the first piece of land behind the various docks in the area. An oil rig rose far above the carrier ship, dropping large piles of oil onto the boat.
When the boat pulled into the dock the armored footmen jumped onto the wooden passageways leading toward the city. Kamandor looked over the large buildings that rose above the docks, this town was definitely not some small village, but it looked positively safe. Kamandor couldn't help wondering why they were here. He looked out past the heads of his comrades and looked at the leader of the 354th division, a chivalrous paladin by the name of Khaidor Whitemare. He was one of the few paladins who since the second war, still rode atop a mighty steer like the knights preferred on doing. Kamandor gave a large groan as he realized by the confused looked on Khaidor's face that he didn't know why they were here either. Kamandor couldn't help but laugh at his older brother, a high-ranking paladin, and he still didn't know a thing.
Kamandor was sitting in the towns only bar having a whispered conversation with his brother. He had taken off his armour and his helmet didn't conceal his face any longer, showing off his short spiky black hair, and his thin yet muscular frame. His brother's long wavy black hair and great bulk, made them seem more like father and son than brothers.
"The militia leader told me that the reason for all the secrecy is because of a newly discovered blight fields in the area!" Khaidor said nearly dropping his drink.
"Blight? This far out! Impossible, the scourge could never had snuck into these parts with someone knowing, why they would have to pass through Brakake just to get into these town!"
"Brakake is no more Kam, it was destroyed just a few days ago. All inhabitants were killed," the paladin spoke sadly for Brakake was the village where him and his bother, like to vacation, they had many friend who lived there, "Recent reports from the locals say that fields of blight have been spotted all over the beachside. That means that the undead are spreading, they have already destroyed Brakake and it seems that this town is next…apparently this town is a vital resource for oil and it can't be evacuated like most towns threatened by the scourge but they couldn't send in a more numerous division because of recent orc attacks, they knew that if we found out that we were to fight those things that we probably wouldn't have came at all…and I am one of the only paladin leaders of the divisions you know."
Kamandor sat their speechless for a couple of seconds the crept out of his shock.
"So what do they purpose we do, take on a whole swarm with our mere 30 men? Its suicide!" screamed Kamandor no longer concerned about who heard him.
"Do control yourself brother! They want us to travel out…into the bad lands…into the heart of the blight fields. There are about seven different undead settlements in which we know about, but at the rate this blight is growing there is bound to be more. They want us to establish a settlement there…"
"A settlement!? Where the undead thrive, where the blight grows! Are they all mad?"
"Brother, calm yourself. They don't expect us to destroy every last one of them, just one. Listen carefully, the reason why the blight is growing so fast is because of a powerful being…a lich by the name of Jajar Blacktongue. Jajar is far more powerful than even the tremendous power of a normal lich. Instead of practicing the magicks of the winters, he simply wields the daemon-corrupted magic of the long-gone orcish warlocks. He is a powerful foe, but I am confident that I can destroy him and his blight but I will need others to defeat his undead minions. They tell me that I only get to bring 5 footmen with me down into the blight, the rest are to stay in the town for defense just incase I should fail. That's why we need to build a settlement, to recruit more fighters! Now you have to keep the between you and me, tell no one!"
Kamandor nodded and stood up, saying goodbye to his brother he went off into the inn where his division were currently resting although he didn't get much sleep knowing that tomorrow, he would have to go into blight covered badlands with only four other footmen…and he forgetful brother.
2 Chapter 2
Kamandor stood was again in his heavy plate mail shifting his shoulder pads from side to side. In his left hand a small iron shield with a small bayonet attached to it. In his right a large clumsy sword, which was dented beyond, believe. He looked jealously at his brother's large mithril kite shield and large war hammer created from adamantite. His brother galloped around with his horse while the other four footmen looked around confused as to why they weren't with the others.
Kamandor had noted down the footmen in his mind, a grumpy dwarf who held an axe instead of the traditional sword, a red-haired brute who looked like he swallowed bricks for breakfast with the large muscles erupting through his already tight armour, a two twins, each looked like small imps compared to the others, standing at only 5 feet or another. There was also Matt and Pat, two peasants who had been promised 100 gold pieces each by the militia officials if they came.
"Alright men, follow me. I'll explain why you have been called here on the way," the proud paladin called from atop his steer.
The men stood motionless with there mouths agape as he told them. When he couldn't get them to move a step further he decided that they should set the camp there. Lucky the place where he was supposed to go was nearby and close enough that they could start their settlement.
"Okay, here is the plan, there is a nearby plains-dwelling elf village which is here in the badlands. They have agreed to help us for supplies. So I'm going to ask you two peasants to begin chopping lumber, me and the footmen will look for goldmine, if you see anything, run towards that direction. You will meet the Elves there."
With that said and done he handed over a few piles of gold to the peasants (to buy things from the Elves he told them) and he set off into the wilderness of the badlands with the footmen.
Kamandor looked around his eyes shifting from left to right very quickly. He saw atop a distant hill, a purplish black substance floating on the ground and turned everything it touched, including trees and a small stream into a rotten black color. Khaidor looked around but saw no gold mine, only miles and miles of plain. That's when he heard a scream and turned around. A centaur with a sword in hand had one of the footmen by the throat and another with a mace was charging toward the dwarf. Three more centaurs came into few and began firing wave after wave of arrows from their bows. From behind the centaur archers a large hulking figure came into view. Two ugly heads jutted from its immense girth and it held a large wooden club in its hand.
"Creeps, quick everyone group together, then attack," Khaidor cursed himself for being so stupid.
He had forgotten that most of the outskirts of town were full of bandits called creeps who attacked random adventures in search for gold or just mindless beast who had nothing better to do. A group of centaurs led by an ogre…could this get any worse he thought. Wait! Ogres usually only guarded gold mines, he looked behind the ogre and saw a large heap of stone in the shape of a dome, and gold glitter from inside it.
The group had packed together back-to-back swords and axes raised. Khaidor closed his eyes and concentrated on his holy sprit and suddenly around him erupted a large shield of holy light. He ran towards the ogre war hammer raised. The ogre smashed down upon the paladin but didn't hit him because the shield deflected the club causing it to crack and diminish to dust. Khaidor's hammer literally grew with the holy light, and he brought in down through the large ogre and it fell towards the ground. Dead.
Kamandor and the others fought the centaurs the archers had already died easily killed for their arrows couldn't penetrate through the footmen's shields. The warrior centaurs however were as strong as two men and quite as tall to. One of the twins lay bleeding on the ground and the red-haired brute appeared to be dead his head twisted in a impossible manner.
Suddenly the centaurs stopped fighting and looked above the hills. They looked at their fallen ogre-leader and ran off. The footmen fell to the ground exhausted, one of the twins trying to wake his brother. Khaidor walked towards the bleeding twin and cast his most useful magic spell after the battle, "healing". Suddenly wounds healed, the twin jumped upon Khaidor thanking him repeatedly.
Kamandor looked up in the direction that the centaurs were and wondered why they ran…he turned around just in time to see his brother and the other footmen walking away towards the settlement.
3 Chapter 3
It had been two weeks in the badlands and the scourge still hadn't made a move toward the city of Kaer'Iidan. Kamandor was wondering was this trip even necessary if they were going to attack the city like his brother had predicted. He had stayed in the badlands and had grown used to it, but he still wanted to leave. The food was terrible, the environment terrible, and where the blight was the area was always drained of life, black and dreary.
TO BE CONTINUED