Nader's Raiders

Once the Kaldorei halberdiers had been sent back to Tirisfal, Barghash regrouped with his followers outside of the ruined lodge. Because the acolytes created portals so effortlessly, the trip to Kalimdor had been rather convenient; and because they'd raised two entire units in a matter of hours, that trip had been a resounding success. Their efforts on the continent appeared to be at an end.

"Are well all done?" one of the undead humans, a male who must have died at a young age, asked.

Taking a deep breath of the oddly smelling Nightsong Woods, Barghash finally allowed himself to stop and take in the surroundings for the first time. Even for a mortal pledged to the shadow such as himself, one couldn't help but appreciate the beauty of the night elves' forest.

"I suppose we are...but we did come all the way to another continent. I don't think it would hurt to return to that temporary checkpoint we visited earlier. Just to see if there's any news from the war front."

Less nervous than before, the acolytes appeared amiable toward the idea. "Of course, sir," replied the oddly youngish undead, and the five of them promptly opened a death gate. The speed at which they were able to open the portals was rather impressive; the necromancer reminded himself to compliment them again, but later, just to make sure it didn't go to their heads.

Upon walking through the gate, Barghash walked out to find what had once been a familiar scene turned into a testament to the Legion's intentions for their planet.

On a lonely little road in backwater Ashenvale, the barricade of the former Horde checkpoint had been burnt to ashes by green fel fire. Demons and orcs clashed all over the road, spilling each other's blood with almost gleeful demeanor (the orcs seemed to enjoy the fight slightly more). Through the burning fel fire, Barghash could see a few corpses of the civilian officers who'd been at the checkpoint cut up and smashed to the point of uselessness - a necromancer always noticed such details first when seeing dead bodies. A shattered, barely functioning infernal stepped on the last civilian officer, a goblin running for dear life, squashing it like a bug.

As soon as the five acolytes exited their gate, they cowered behind the necromancer. "The Legion is invading Kalimdor!" one of them shrieked.

Having spent two years as a footman in the Alliance army before joining the Forsaken by choice, Barghash wasn't intimidated by melee combat. Squinting his eyes through the eye sockets of the goat skull he wore as a mask, he calmly formed a rough assessment. "No, this is nothing...these are probably stray demons that wandered too far from Felfire Hill," he replied as he watched the corpses of felguards and felhunters alike drop like flies.

In the midst of the fight were half a dozen or so orc raiders. Hunched, a bit short but heavyset and thick-bodied, the green-skinned wolf riders ran circles around the demons, slicing clear through flesh and bone with their great knives that were easily the size of broadswords. Even as they absorbed the blows of more numerous enemies, the orcs let out hearty gut laughs as they forced the demons to stumble after them. The Horde soldiers appeared to be losing, but they also appeared to enjoy every minute that they were cutting down waves of nipping demons.

Ever the planner, Barghash rested a hand on the hilt of his scimitar - the weapon a holdover from prior to his magical education. "This is most interesting...you," he said to the undead vindicator, "take out that infernal so we can watch."

"Must hear and obey," the draenic skeleton in armor replied as she charged at the infernal, hefting her heavy mace and taking a chunk out of its right arm. The two wailed on each other, breaking off pieces as they battered each other with blunt force trauma in a war of attrition.

The undead orc, somewhat decomposed like most undead Forsaken, crept up to Barghash. "Shouldn't we help?" she asked nervously.

He held up a hand to her. "Wait, my dear; just wait," he replied as he studied the tactics of the orc raiders.

The stout green humanoids riding the dire wolves were rather different from human cavalry. Rather than holding close together for protection, charging in straight lines to break the ranks of the enemies and donning heavy armor to protect themselves, they threw themselves headlong into the dog pile of dead and dying demons. They broke and rejoined formation frequently, rode right into the center of dangerous foes and even grabbed ahold of enemies with their free hands and dragged them around, stunning and demoralizing rather than outright killing them. The thick build of the orcs was perfect for trading shots with felguards, and their wolves chowed down on the felhunters with no visible reaction to what must have been the foul taste.

"They're just what we need," Barghash stated out loud as he watched the last of the brave mounted warriors fall to the few remaining demons, themselves badly injured. Noticing that the undead draenei had smashed the infernal to bits and lost only one arm and parts of her armor in the process, he saw an opportunity. "Finish them off," he ordered her while pointing toward a handful of battered felguards recouperating.

"Must hear and obey," she repeated as she charged, taking them demons by surprise when she balanced her mace with a one-handed grip and retained enough force to crack open the head of the first felguard, sending it back to the Twisting Nether before the others could react.

Striding over toward the fallen orcs and wolves, Barghash inspected the numerous wounds that had been necessary to finally bring them down. A stray felhunter tried to pounce on him, disintegrating into the Nether when he carved open its chest and throat with his scimitar in midair. Ignoring the shrieks of the acolytes when he did, Barghash hung the weapon back on his belt and knelt down.

"We haven't even started recruiting cavalry yet, but we'll need to...perhaps these brave ones deserve a second chance." Reaching to the shoulder badge of the raider wearing a captain's tassel, he found the man's family name written in Orcish. "Nader...Nader the raider...well, I guess we know what we'll call your unit, then!"

Noticing that the demons were all gone, Barghash quickly shot a glance in the direction of a crumbling sound. Having sustained too much damage from the infernal and the weapons of the felguards, the undead vindicator was no longer able to stand. The necromantic bonds holding her bones together dissipated, and her armor fell to individual pieces as the skeleton no longer stood upright. More due to his distaste for waste than any sort of attachment to a minion, Barghash frowned.

"That settles it; we have our newest unit," he said as he stood back up and inspected the raiders. "Stay on the lookout. And by the shadow, try not to be so timid," he told the acolytes and they huddled in a group behind him.

Once more, he dug into his mana pool, charging up the mass raise dead spell in preparation to bind seven orcs and seven wolves to his will. To his surprise, he could feel many deal souls clinging to his spellcast, fighting to answer his call and hold on.

"They're actually aware of what I'm doing," he murmured in fascination as he completed the spell cast. "I've never seen this before."

Green and purple tendrils wrapped around the bloodied corpses, leaving their wounds intact but stopping the bleeding as the spell gripped them. Pulling them up like puppets on strings, Barghash was surprised to find the bodies fighting their way back into consciousness before they'd even fully regained control of their motor skills yet.

"Returned...have returned...we have returned," one of the raiders mumbled, her faculties of speech partially stunted by undeath.

Their captain, an exceptionally broad if squat man by orc standards, blinked his light blue eyes. There wasn't quite enough sentience in those eyes to signify more than a minion, but he certainly appeared more intelligent than a ghoul. "Captain Nader is...reporting," the undead orc droned, staring ahead blankly. "Where...are...the demons?"

Amazed at how easy the reanimation had been, Barghash almost forgot to answer until the seven raiders started to look at him. "Ah yes, your enemies...the cowards who attacked your checkpoint. They're in the Twist...I mean, the Broken Isles."

One of the raiders attempted to speak, but his lips were uncoordinated. "Must...break...the demons..." it droned.

"Yes, yes, break the demons. I will help you break the demons, all in good time." He turned back to the acolytes. "Open a gate back to Tirisfal. Now."

"Yes, mister Narume," they replied in unison as they began opening a further, deeper portal across the ocean.

Without needing to be told, the raiders formed a line in front of the gradually materializing portal, easily falling into formation without needing of be told. Barghash ran a finger over his rings, wondering how the day could have been such a lucky one for them.

A/N: and now for our return to Lordaeron...Barghash isn't the only one who's been busy.