Chapter 1
Twenty years ago, the Great War raged across the eastern lands. Undead, advancing from the southern tip of Azeroth, had conquered every bit of land right up to the northern border. Luckily, King Tasefer's castle stood upon this border. Every day, ill news reached Tasefer's mind. Undead spotted in the east, Dreadlords creeping in from the west. But Tasefer knew his greatest troubles lay in the south.
Several weeks before, in a small village far to the south, everything appeared normal. Peasants bustled about with their daily chores, soldiers drilled in the fields, and children gathered in small circles within schoolhouses. But at about midday, the earth trembled beneath the feet of the unsuspecting citizens. Women screamed and ran into their homes. Children cried and ran out of the schools. On the eastern side of the village, a great fissure appeared. Soldiers in the fields tightened their grips on their swords for what appeared out of the fissure.
At first, it seemed two great towers emerged from out of the ground. Then, it became apparent these were two massive horns protruding from a humongous structure. As it slowly made its way out of the ground, the citizens became transfixed. It was as if a spell had come over them, because they were unable to move, or even see.
But from another view, the spell was clear. A man who was fishing was some distance from the village when the fissure appeared. He had rushed over a hill to witness the scene. The whole population seemed to fall asleep! Soldiers on the fields collapsed like dominoes. Peasants dropped whatever resources they carried, and dropped to the ground. This spectacle horrified the man, who dropped his fish and ran north.
As the structure materialized, a great arch appeared between the two horns. Under the arch, there was a gigantic whirlpool of swirling energies. The energies, dark in color, swirled around for several moments. Suddenly, the spinning ceased, and only a black circle was visible. For this was a Demon Portal, and none of the villagers saw what appeared next.
Two huge creatures bounded out of the gate. They were in the shape of dogs, except two horns protruded from their heads. These were felhounds, servants to the Burning Legion. But what was intriguing about these felhounds was their sheer size. This certain pair seemed several times larger than felhounds observed in the past. The pair took their first steps on Azeroth and seemed to sniff the air. They immediately dashed toward the village church. Any unsuspecting villagers along the way were crushed under the felhounds' titanic weight.
Subsequently, a scratching sound could be heard within the portal. With a burst of energy, dozens of ghouls scrambled from within the gate. These ghouls, similar to the felhounds, were several times their average size. Normally, a human footman would easily defeat a ghoul in single combat. But these ghouls would tower over footmen, and effortlessly toss them aside.
Next, an enormous claw appeared from within the portal. A foot followed as the creature surfaced from the murky depths of the Demon Gate. This was a dreadlord, a feared captain of the Burning Legion. The villagers' stupor was apparently caused by the dreadlord, whose sleep spell must have been enhanced by his sheer size.
Immediately after the dreadlord, terrible screeches filled the air. A score of gargoyles soared from inside the portal. They gave the impression of statues in their stiff appearance. Numerous rows of teeth lined their mouths. As the gargoyles swooped down at the villagers, their mouths dripped with fresh blood.
As the procession of Undead completed, the portal's dark energies began to swirl once more, as it disappeared back into the ground.
The dreadlord, Nethonas, glanced toward the village fields. He laughed at the pathetic arrangement of guards, who were all slumbering away. Nethonas signaled for the ghouls to follow him. As the dreadlord and his ghouls made their way toward the guards, one awoke from his sleep. Several others opened their eyes and got up to their feet. Soon, the whole force of footmen was wide awake. They took a glimpse at the enemy charging from the lower hills. On the highest hill, where the footmen were situated, the dreadlord and his ghouls appeared like a small and weak force. The captain of the guards gave the order to draw swords and hold their ground.
As Nethonas approached the footmen, he and his ghouls gradually became larger in the eyes of the footmen. When the Undead mass was just fifty feet from the guards, some footmen fled the scene, while other whimpered in their helmets.
Forty feet.
Thirty feet.
Twenty feet.
At this point, the human force was half as large as its initial size.
"Hold your ground!" screamed the captain.
The captain was screaming even louder when Nethonas seized him in his claw and flung him across the air with ease.
The ghouls and footmen clashed with each other. Footmen slashed off ghoul limbs, while ghouls scratched footmen armor. As the ghouls attacked, they splattered blood and seemed to regain energy as they drank from their enemies.
One by one, the footmen fell. If a ghoul was seriously weakened, it would simply find a corpse and slowly digest its remains.
The Undead cruised to an easy victory over the footmen. Nethonas smiled, for these humans were much weaker than he had ever imagined. To celebrate the swift success, Nethonas and his Undead warriors brought all the human structures to the ground, including several homes and a large barn. As Nethonas worked into the center of the village, the felhounds unexpectedly growled. Nethonas held up his right claw to indicate a stop. The felhounds looked as if they were sniffing the air. Both of them started racing toward the village church. Nethonas quickly motioned for the rest to follow.
The felhounds' dash ended at the gates of the church. Nethonas reached the gate with the ghouls. The gargoyles hovered overhead. Everything around the church was silent. Nethonas began to wonder what caused the felhounds to stop at the church.
"Charge!!!"
The gates of the church suddenly burst open. A group of humans rushed out. At the lead was a paladin. Dozens of footmen and militia followed.
The ghouls at the front of the Undead pack were taken by surprise. Several footmen and militia attacked each ghoul at once. The ghouls fell to the sharp blades and axes of the human warriors.
Nethonas quickly analyzed the humans' numbers. A puny force, which would be easily overwhelmed.
"Don't just stand there, charge the scrawny weaklings!"
He pushed several ghouls to the front of the battle, only to see one burst to pieces with a blinding flash of light.
Nethonas proceeded to the front of the battle. He easily tossed a militia member into the air. Several other footmen met their fate with Nethonas' carrion swarm spell.
The humans fought their way into the street. Only the paladin and a dozen footmen remained. Nethonas made his way to the small pack. He boldly stepped up right in front of the humans.
One brave footman drew his sword and hacked at Nethonas' ankle. The vibrations from the blow stung the footman's arm, and he was forced to drop his sword. Evidently, the dreadlord was covered with a tough armor.
Nethonas expressed amusement at this pathetic attempt.
"Ha! Your feeble weapons cannot harm me! For I am Nethonas, dreadlord captain of the Burning Legion!"
The paladin looked upwards to face the dreadlord.
"I am Athon, a paladin of the light and a humble servant to my king. We have defeated your kind in the past, and even if we don't succeed right away, we will eventually triumph over your evil army!"
"Fool! Do you not see we are not mere Undead? Together, with my dreadlord brothers, we have discovered the secret to power-the Chaos Well!"
At this statement, Athon seemed to hesitate.
What Chaos Well did this dreadlord speak of?
"Even if you have received power from this well, you are still scum! Cowards! How dare you attack a defenseless village? We will crush you, just like we have in years past!"
Nethonas was clearly amused at the paladin's defiance.
"Listen closely, fool. If you surrender at this instant, I will have pity on your weak force and grant you the right to serve my brothers as loyal slaves. You will obey their commands, and you will bow to them humbly instead of your weak king!"
Athon was disgusted. He spat at the ground in front of Nethonas.
"We will never surrender! I would bow to a sheep before serving anyone as dishonorable as you!"
At this, Nethonas stepped forward and kicked a footman into the air. He wailed in the sky, before colliding into the side of the church with a resounding crunch.
The remaining humans charged Nethonas. They desperately struck Nethonas' legs countless times. But before Nethonas could respond to the assault, a portal opened above the humans' heads, and they disappeared with a flash of light.
Twenty years ago, the Great War raged across the eastern lands. Undead, advancing from the southern tip of Azeroth, had conquered every bit of land right up to the northern border. Luckily, King Tasefer's castle stood upon this border. Every day, ill news reached Tasefer's mind. Undead spotted in the east, Dreadlords creeping in from the west. But Tasefer knew his greatest troubles lay in the south.
Several weeks before, in a small village far to the south, everything appeared normal. Peasants bustled about with their daily chores, soldiers drilled in the fields, and children gathered in small circles within schoolhouses. But at about midday, the earth trembled beneath the feet of the unsuspecting citizens. Women screamed and ran into their homes. Children cried and ran out of the schools. On the eastern side of the village, a great fissure appeared. Soldiers in the fields tightened their grips on their swords for what appeared out of the fissure.
At first, it seemed two great towers emerged from out of the ground. Then, it became apparent these were two massive horns protruding from a humongous structure. As it slowly made its way out of the ground, the citizens became transfixed. It was as if a spell had come over them, because they were unable to move, or even see.
But from another view, the spell was clear. A man who was fishing was some distance from the village when the fissure appeared. He had rushed over a hill to witness the scene. The whole population seemed to fall asleep! Soldiers on the fields collapsed like dominoes. Peasants dropped whatever resources they carried, and dropped to the ground. This spectacle horrified the man, who dropped his fish and ran north.
As the structure materialized, a great arch appeared between the two horns. Under the arch, there was a gigantic whirlpool of swirling energies. The energies, dark in color, swirled around for several moments. Suddenly, the spinning ceased, and only a black circle was visible. For this was a Demon Portal, and none of the villagers saw what appeared next.
Two huge creatures bounded out of the gate. They were in the shape of dogs, except two horns protruded from their heads. These were felhounds, servants to the Burning Legion. But what was intriguing about these felhounds was their sheer size. This certain pair seemed several times larger than felhounds observed in the past. The pair took their first steps on Azeroth and seemed to sniff the air. They immediately dashed toward the village church. Any unsuspecting villagers along the way were crushed under the felhounds' titanic weight.
Subsequently, a scratching sound could be heard within the portal. With a burst of energy, dozens of ghouls scrambled from within the gate. These ghouls, similar to the felhounds, were several times their average size. Normally, a human footman would easily defeat a ghoul in single combat. But these ghouls would tower over footmen, and effortlessly toss them aside.
Next, an enormous claw appeared from within the portal. A foot followed as the creature surfaced from the murky depths of the Demon Gate. This was a dreadlord, a feared captain of the Burning Legion. The villagers' stupor was apparently caused by the dreadlord, whose sleep spell must have been enhanced by his sheer size.
Immediately after the dreadlord, terrible screeches filled the air. A score of gargoyles soared from inside the portal. They gave the impression of statues in their stiff appearance. Numerous rows of teeth lined their mouths. As the gargoyles swooped down at the villagers, their mouths dripped with fresh blood.
As the procession of Undead completed, the portal's dark energies began to swirl once more, as it disappeared back into the ground.
The dreadlord, Nethonas, glanced toward the village fields. He laughed at the pathetic arrangement of guards, who were all slumbering away. Nethonas signaled for the ghouls to follow him. As the dreadlord and his ghouls made their way toward the guards, one awoke from his sleep. Several others opened their eyes and got up to their feet. Soon, the whole force of footmen was wide awake. They took a glimpse at the enemy charging from the lower hills. On the highest hill, where the footmen were situated, the dreadlord and his ghouls appeared like a small and weak force. The captain of the guards gave the order to draw swords and hold their ground.
As Nethonas approached the footmen, he and his ghouls gradually became larger in the eyes of the footmen. When the Undead mass was just fifty feet from the guards, some footmen fled the scene, while other whimpered in their helmets.
Forty feet.
Thirty feet.
Twenty feet.
At this point, the human force was half as large as its initial size.
"Hold your ground!" screamed the captain.
The captain was screaming even louder when Nethonas seized him in his claw and flung him across the air with ease.
The ghouls and footmen clashed with each other. Footmen slashed off ghoul limbs, while ghouls scratched footmen armor. As the ghouls attacked, they splattered blood and seemed to regain energy as they drank from their enemies.
One by one, the footmen fell. If a ghoul was seriously weakened, it would simply find a corpse and slowly digest its remains.
The Undead cruised to an easy victory over the footmen. Nethonas smiled, for these humans were much weaker than he had ever imagined. To celebrate the swift success, Nethonas and his Undead warriors brought all the human structures to the ground, including several homes and a large barn. As Nethonas worked into the center of the village, the felhounds unexpectedly growled. Nethonas held up his right claw to indicate a stop. The felhounds looked as if they were sniffing the air. Both of them started racing toward the village church. Nethonas quickly motioned for the rest to follow.
The felhounds' dash ended at the gates of the church. Nethonas reached the gate with the ghouls. The gargoyles hovered overhead. Everything around the church was silent. Nethonas began to wonder what caused the felhounds to stop at the church.
"Charge!!!"
The gates of the church suddenly burst open. A group of humans rushed out. At the lead was a paladin. Dozens of footmen and militia followed.
The ghouls at the front of the Undead pack were taken by surprise. Several footmen and militia attacked each ghoul at once. The ghouls fell to the sharp blades and axes of the human warriors.
Nethonas quickly analyzed the humans' numbers. A puny force, which would be easily overwhelmed.
"Don't just stand there, charge the scrawny weaklings!"
He pushed several ghouls to the front of the battle, only to see one burst to pieces with a blinding flash of light.
Nethonas proceeded to the front of the battle. He easily tossed a militia member into the air. Several other footmen met their fate with Nethonas' carrion swarm spell.
The humans fought their way into the street. Only the paladin and a dozen footmen remained. Nethonas made his way to the small pack. He boldly stepped up right in front of the humans.
One brave footman drew his sword and hacked at Nethonas' ankle. The vibrations from the blow stung the footman's arm, and he was forced to drop his sword. Evidently, the dreadlord was covered with a tough armor.
Nethonas expressed amusement at this pathetic attempt.
"Ha! Your feeble weapons cannot harm me! For I am Nethonas, dreadlord captain of the Burning Legion!"
The paladin looked upwards to face the dreadlord.
"I am Athon, a paladin of the light and a humble servant to my king. We have defeated your kind in the past, and even if we don't succeed right away, we will eventually triumph over your evil army!"
"Fool! Do you not see we are not mere Undead? Together, with my dreadlord brothers, we have discovered the secret to power-the Chaos Well!"
At this statement, Athon seemed to hesitate.
What Chaos Well did this dreadlord speak of?
"Even if you have received power from this well, you are still scum! Cowards! How dare you attack a defenseless village? We will crush you, just like we have in years past!"
Nethonas was clearly amused at the paladin's defiance.
"Listen closely, fool. If you surrender at this instant, I will have pity on your weak force and grant you the right to serve my brothers as loyal slaves. You will obey their commands, and you will bow to them humbly instead of your weak king!"
Athon was disgusted. He spat at the ground in front of Nethonas.
"We will never surrender! I would bow to a sheep before serving anyone as dishonorable as you!"
At this, Nethonas stepped forward and kicked a footman into the air. He wailed in the sky, before colliding into the side of the church with a resounding crunch.
The remaining humans charged Nethonas. They desperately struck Nethonas' legs countless times. But before Nethonas could respond to the assault, a portal opened above the humans' heads, and they disappeared with a flash of light.
