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Chapter 9- Gundrak

Ironwood walked the deck of the Bullhead, chambering a round into his revolver and checking its sights. Sat around him were multiple Atlesian Soldiers, each one chambering ammo into their Rifles, Shotguns and Pistols. Despite the reassurance from Atlas' top robotics experts that the disaster at the Battle of Beacon wouldn't happen again, he still didn't feel safe around the Atlesian Knight-200's. Besides, he would trust a man at his side more than a robot to make calls.

Ironwood gazed at his troops, who were now making final preparations, either checking one another's armour or counting ammo. They wore the standard issue BDU, with a few minor altercations to accommodate the winter climate, such as fur lining at the joints and balaclavas around the mouth and nose, completely hiding their faces. Ironwood himself wore the same armour, minus the helmet and balaclava, silently holstering his pistol as he walked towards the wild card on the VTOL.

"You didn't have to come," Ironwood told Kalec, the man simply glancing up to face the General. "Me and my men are more than capable of handling ourselves."

"That may be, but I'm not willing to risk that." Kalec simply replied. "Besides, if it's my safety you're worried about, I can handle myself well enough, thank you."

"You're not even armed." Ironwood retorted, turning slightly to unstrap his combat knife from its sheath, flipping it in the air before holding out the handle to Kalec. "At the very least take this, just in case."

Kalec took the knife from the General's grip, holding the weapon up to inspect the blade, admiring both the groves in the blade and the serrated teeth of the weapon. He then flipped the knife into the air, catching it by the blade before handing it back over to the General. Reluctantly, the General took the knife back, sliding it back into its sheath.

"So General, what do you know of Gundrak?" Kalec asked, watching the General's face for any visible facial cues.

"Not much I'm afraid." Ironwood admitted, gazing out of the window of the VTOL into the snow covered mountains beyond. "According to history books, it was the seat of a vast Empire pre-dating even Mantle. Then Mantle came and destroyed it, wiping out its populace. Legend has it that at night, you can see the spectres of those who fell, still fighting in what appears to be an endless struggle."

"Let us hope they are merely legends." Kalec responded grimly. "The dead are a foe you do not want to face."

"General, we are approaching the LZ. It's a little hot, but we should be able to manage." the voice of the pilot crackled through Ironwood's intercom, the General raising his wrist to his face to respond.

"Solid copy, how are we on the weather front?" Ironwood asked, awaiting a response from the pilot.

"Clear skies ahead but be advised, there's a storm on the horizon to the north. Looks like it's stationary but be on the lookout." the pilot finally replied.

"Dammit, that's where we're headed..." Ironwood cursed under his breath, sighing silently before replying. "Copy that, over and out."

As the link disconnected, Ironwood could feel the shift as the VTOL began to drop slowly, the ground below them becoming closer and closer with each passing second.

"All right men, listen up." Ironwood ordered, gaining the attention of the soldiers in the cargo bay immediately. "We are heading into uncharted territory on a search and rescue op. You all know who we're looking for, and you all know why you've been selected. You men are the best of the best and as a result that is what I expect from all of you."

"What does recon say about where we're headed sir?" one of the soldiers asked, his voice muffled slightly by his balaclava.

"We don't have any corporal." Ironwood admitted, though there was no reaction to this news. "So check your corners, and watch your six. Remember your training, and you'll do just fine. Understood?"

"Sir yes sir!" the soldiers all chorused at once, earning a nod of approval from the General.

"That's what I like to hear." Ironwood declared, before turning towards one of the soldiers. "Sergeant, when we land you and I will take point, understood?"

"Yes sir, General." the sergeant replied in a gruff voice, nodding his head in the process.

"Landing in five" the pilot said over the main intercom. There was a groan in the aircraft as it slowly descended to the ground, the ships engines blowing away snow that had already encompassed the area. "Opening the hatch."

The ramp at the back began to drop and the General and sergeant moved out, Pistol and Rifle at the ready, as soon as their boots touched the powdery snow, the rest of the soldiers began to follow, along with Kalec. With every step they took the snow crunched and cracked beneath them, the soldiers scanning the ominous mountains. Every so often they would come across a snow fox or a lone wolf, but the canine animals quickly scattered at the sight of them. The skyline was clear for the most part, the rising sun in the east casting light upon the white snow, causing it to shine and sparkle.

But then they came to the blizzard, causing their sight to become limited. Were it not for the fact they were packed so tightly together, the soldiers would have easily scattered and become lost. Even then, they knew something was amiss. This storm was not natural. It was too thick, even by Solitas standards. Something or someone was causing the storm to thicken. Soon however, the blizzard began to lessen, if only lightly. And it was there that they saw the first signs of the lost civilisation.

Before them were large stone hewn steps that led up to a plateau, surrounded on all sides by broken down walls. Surrounding them were old siege engines of the early Mantle Empire, covered in snow and frozen in place. There were the frozen skeletons of Mantle Soldiers here as well, the cold weather having been so intense that some had frozen in the position they had died in, along with the skeletons of large hulking creatures that none of them recognised.

They began to climb up the stone stairway, each one of them being careful to mind their step, knowing one misstep was the difference between life and death. Eventually, the party reached the top of the stairway, greeted with a vast open space, surrounded by multiple broken down structures of some unknown architecture. There were more siege weapons, both of Mantle make and he unknown race, and even more dead. Rotten wooden masks and spears hung from the walls, all of them either splitting apart or covered in ice. Ahead they could see a large temple like structure, the once grand towers having collapsed in on themselves, and the proud banners having snapped away in the frigid winds.

Ironwood silently signalled for his men to stay close and quiet, moving towards one of the more intact structures. They had to check every structure, it was the only way to be sure of Winter's fate. As they entered the vast structure, they soon realised just how much more intact this one was than the rest. Not only that, but there was a more disturbing fact. Unlike the rest of the complex, the masks on display here were in much greater condition, and the braziers were lit. And along the corridors, multiple bone effigies had been constructed, made up of the bones of many things. Wolves, bears, leopards, mammoths, hawks...humans. He approached the nearest of the human effigies, the skull painted with multiple blue swirls and patterns. He gazed at the construct, his eyes immediately gazing at what was around its neck.

Dog tags. Lots of them.

He gingerly fingered the military neck piece, before pulling it free with a sharp tug. Some of the names he didn't recognise, but others he did, all of them having being reported missing. Someone, or something, was still here, hunting down whoever entered these grounds.

"Keep your eyes peeled men." Ironwood whispered, some of the men nodding in response.

He slowly began to creep forward, making sure his footfalls didn't crunch the snow beneath him too loudly. More braziers and effigies littered the hallways, as well as more of the masks hanging precariously from the walls. Ironwood wasn't certain, but he swore that some of the eyes on the masks were watching them. It was then that the group turned a corner and froze immediately at the sight before them.

Before them, bound to wooden poles were the flayed bodies of men and women, bound in various positions. Some were strung out like scarecrows, some left to dangle by either their wrists or ankles, while others were simply bound to the poles. Some remnants of the clothes they wore in life remained, identifying them not only as Atlesian soldiers, but to the surprise of many, members of the Twilight's Hammer.

"My God..." Ironwood murmured, slowly walking towards one of the nearest bound victims, what remained of their face contorted in pure pain and horror, implying that they may have been alive when they were flayed. "What could do this?"

"I don't know," Kalec replied as he moved to inspect another pole. "But we should keep moving."

It was then that they heard the crunching of snow, causing everyone to scan the area in a panic. There was a burst of automatic fire as one of the soldiers suddenly began to fire at the top of the wall, the bullets chipping away the stone structure.

"Shit! I thought I saw something!" the soldier stammered, his Rifle barrel smoking as he whipped it left and right.

"Defensive formations!" Ironwood ordered, drawing his Revolver and switching the safety off.

The soldiers all drew into a circle, their weapons raised at the top of the walls, the snow around slightly hindering their sight. It was then there was a sharp whistling sound, followed by a cry of pain and gunfire as everyone spun around to see one of the soldiers dead, his body held in place by the shaft of a large hunting spear. The soldiers immediately entered a firing line and began to fire upon the location where the spear seemed to originate from. The bullets pulverised the top part of the wall, sending snow and concrete onto the ground. It was then that a large shadow was cast before them, and a large hulking figure wielding a great-axe landing next to the firing line.

The figure was tall, almost taller than some of the larger Faunus variants, and muscular too. Their skin was an icy blue colouration, with leather and bone armour covering most of their body. Their face at first appeared to be that of a wolfs, with large elephant like tusks sprouting from its mouth, but it was then that they realised that it was in actuality a helm of some sort.

Before any of the soldiers could properly react, the monstrous figure swung out with its great-axe, laughing maniacally as it cleaved one of the men nearly in two and sent his corpse tumbling into the others, before the figure then pierced the gut of another soldier with the blade of his axe, sending him over his shoulder with little effort. A soldier with a Shotgun began to fire rounds into the creature, who staggered back slightly at the initial onslaught, his armour mostly protecting him from the brunt of the attack.

Realising the danger, the creature turned and sprinted behind the corner, the soldier following close behind.

"Hold position!" Ironwood roared, the soldier immediately restraining himself and stepping back slightly, chambering more rounds into his weapon.

It was as he was doing this that the attacker descended from above yet again, cleaving the man in twain with no effort. The soldiers began to charge the creature, though it began to swing its axe in warding arcs, catching a few of the soldiers with the tip of the blade, causing them all to step back precariously. It was then that the creature made a target of Kalec, charging him and bringing its axe overhead for a lethal strike.

As the axe descended however, there was a flash of purple light, followed by the splintering of wood and metal, and a guttural cry of pain. When the light cleared, Kalec stood unharmed, his hands glowing with a purple light, the creature staggering back, its axe shattered, part of the blade impaled in its gut. With a growl it pulled the shard free, red blood oozing out in response.

The creature then began to roar at Kalec in a harsh and ugly language, before charging him. Ironwood raised his Revolver and fired, the bullet hitting the creature in its head and sending it flying to the side, dead. Ironwood let out a sigh of relief before turning to the sergeant, who was ripping the dog tags of his fallen comrades off.

"Sergeant, how many?" Ironwood asked, holstering his Revolver in the process.

"Four dead and three walking wounded, sir." the sergeant replied grimly.

"Have the wounded patched up, and take the ammo and dog tags of the dead." Ironwood ordered, the sergeant saluting in response before returning to his grim task. Ironwood then walked over to Kalec, patting him on the shoulder. "You okay?"

"Like I said General, I can handle myself rather well." Kalec simply responded, before moving over to the corpse of the creature, turning it over with his boot.

The wolf pelt covering most of its head had fallen off, revealing an almost human face, the long tusks erupting from the creatures mouth just under its elongated nose and long ears. Its face was also covered in white and black war paint, resembling that of a skull.

"Incredible, I thought they were all dead..." Kalec murmured to himself. The claim was somewhat of a lie, for he and his brethren knew of the danger lurking within, but he feigned ignorance for the General's sake.

"You know what this thing is?" Ironwood asked.

"If I'm correct, this here is an Ice Troll." Kalec responded, seemingly analysing every detail of the dead creature. "They were the original inhabitants of this place before Mantle came, if the history books are correct."

"Well this thing just cut through four of my men like they were made of paper mache!" Ironwood bitterly replied. "Are there any more of them out there?"

"Impossible to say, this one could have simply been a lone wolf of some sort." Kalec answered, looking around for any sign of more Trolls. Thankfully, there were none.

"We need to keep moving, search every inch of this complex for Winter." Ironwood stated, looking around himself. "She has to be here, I'm certain of it."

"Then we had best keep moving." Kalec summarised, earning a nod of acknowledgement from the General.

"All right men, listen up." Ironwood called out, causing the soldiers to turn and face their General. "There may be more of those things out their, so we need to keep our eyes peeled and watch our six. We've already lost four men, let's not let that number get higher."

The soldiers all nodded in agreement and the group began to move in unison again, with the wounded being in the centre, flanked by the remainder of the soldiers. As they crept forward, Ironwood suddenly held a fist up, halting the line. He peered around the corner, catching sight of three Ice Trolls sat around a small fire, these three even more heavily armoured than their attacker.

He cursed silently at the circumstances before casting his gaze around the area. There were no other passages that led into the chamber, and the corridor they were travelling in simply cut straight ahead, bypassing the room altogether. He silently signalled for his troops to quietly bypass the room, which they did so, slowly and one at a time. When Kalec strode past the room, he could hear the Troll's speaking in their ancient language. Whilst the others no doubt couldn't decipher a word of it, he could, and what he heard troubled him.

"Ya tink de Zandalari boss mon be speakin da truth?" the first Troll asked in a thick accent. "Dat dey gonna help restore da Empire's?"

"How should I know?" the second Troll replied, sharpening his axe with a whetstone. "I heard da City o' Gold be sinkin' beneath da waves."

"Betta hope dose Zandalari be havin' gills mon." the third Troll laughed evilly, much to the chagrin of the other two. "Why should we care about dem? Dey left us ta die in de cold."

"De Zandalari be wisest of all da Trolls, so show some respect, eh?" the second Troll chastised, pointing his axe at the third Troll, who simply grunted. "One ting be certain, times be changin'. Hopefully for da better."

Kalec was troubled by these words. In all these years he'd never heard anything of the Zandalari reaching out to the remnants of the fallen tribes. It was generally unheard of. The fact that these three Trolls were speaking of an emissary from Zuldazar itself was disturbing to say the least, especially considering his Bronze cousins shared the same land as the Trolls. Why had they not reported such an incident? Did they even know? One thing was for certain though, and that was that the Troll was right.

Times were changing.

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Hope you liked the chapter and the introduction of the Trolls into this AU. Liked it? Feel free to leave a review and constructive criticism is welcomed. Any questions? Either PM me or leave in your review. Next review will be August 18th. See you all in BfA and remember, FOR THE HORDE!

Raging Archon out.