(This is my first bit of fan fiction, so please leave reviews and constructive criticism!)
"Bad Neighbors"
One would have imagined that , in the mid-morning light cast by the rising sun onto the warm, Arathi Highlands plain, that it would have been a peaceful, quiet setting. The long grasses, poking up from the rolling hills of the land, swayed gently with a warm breeze, and the occasional glimpse of a prairie dog or the harmonious chirps of the birds would have lulled one into believing the land was untouched, and virgin from the stains of war and feuding.
The varied races surged and withdrew with each moment of the battle, with arrows and spells raining down and cutting through gaps between warriors and wizards alike. The swords of powerful warriors clashed and cast sparks as they met at the front lines, the eyes of humans, dwarves, and night elves meeting the eyes of their equal orcs, trolls, and even the ranks of the undead. A few massive tauren dotted the Horde's ranks in the fierce mob of fighting men and women, their weapons varying from large sections of trees that had been made into maces to the very earth itself, as the elements were by the large, bestial race, worked against the Alliance.
"For Gnomeregan!" one high-pitched female gnome's voice rang out.
"For the Horde!" came another, deep and booming voice, presumably from a male Tauren.
Other such war-cries carried across the sounds and screams of the fight, and so it went on for hour upon hour, until finally one side gave in.
The few remaining assorted Alliance was all that was left of what had seemed like it would conquer the massive battlefield only hours before. As the bloodied, the minor-wounded, and those who had stood by fresh and ready for this eventuality moved forth, their races distinguishing them as members of the Horde, they walked over the bodies of many. Dwarf, human, orc, troll, and some of all the rest were splayed out in various grotesque fashions throughout the battlefield, some even being found thrown clear of the carnage by attacks more powerful than conception. The once peaceful, green field that had graced the golden, sloping hills of Arathi on that sunny day had been transformed into a battlefield and a graveyard, stained red with blood. Even nature itself seemed to disapprove, dark clouds coming on from the north with promise of a cold rain.