Chapter Eleven: Last Stand of the Old Horde
This was going to be a bloody fight. The multitude of ravines and hills had hidden many orcs from sight. Now Arthas and his undead were trapped within the pass. They could not easily move, while the orcs could come from anywhere.
At the least, Arthas had learned the source of the explosions. His shades had found that the orc chieftain, Jubei'thos, had struck a deal with some goblins. The fortifications would take some time to repair, and the death knight doubted he had that.
The bodies of the dead might have been nearly limitless. However, having them and raising them into undead were two very different things. There was a limit to how many corpses the Acolytes could raise into undeath.
Still, there had been a lull in the fighting. Arthas used it to begin establishing new holdings in some of the ruins.
He was unwilling to press the attack. He was afraid that if he launched an assault too soon, the orcs would strike at his weakened fortress. The loss of Tamas was the worst defeat. Without him organizing the cult was difficult. Kel'thuzad could take over, but that meant he could not command on the battlefield.
It was a maddening, frustrating affair. He almost considered withdrawing entirely from the area.
He was resolved to carry on with the destruction of these orcs. His scouts had reported that Strahnbrad had been fortified by retreating Alliance Soldiers. He doubted they possessed the experience to hold the town against the Blackrock Clan. Without the Paladins there would be little hope of survival.
No, these orcs had to be stopped.
Eventually, he could stand waiting no more. He risked an assault upon the eastern village. He met heavy resistance. The towers launched countless arrows. The Blackrock warriors rallied to meet them in battle. Ghouls slashed limbs and grunts caved skulls with their might axes. Arthas beheaded a troll then plunged his sword into an orc warlock. Drawing out the blade he sent a death coil to slay another. During the bloodshed, one of the towers fell. Yet Arthas' forces were dwindling. If things continued they would fail.
'Pull back!' He called 'Retreat to the camp! Lich, cover our retreat!'
Kel'thuzad nodded as the warriors withdrew. Kel'thuzad sent a burst of ice amidst the Blackrock Warriors as they pursued. The freezing power slowed their approach, and they retreated to the fortress.
Arthas followed behind him, and they reached the bastion.
The Blackrocks did not pursue. They returned to their posts. Their leader was taking a defensive stance.
'This isn't working, Lich.' said Arthas. 'We need a new strategy.'
'And what would you suggest, Death Knight?' asked Kel'thuzad.
'It's obvious that we cannot defeat these orcs with ghouls, and our necromancers are too few in number to risk.' said Arthas, cleaning the blood from his sword with a ragged cloth. 'It's your turn to make a suggestion.'
'We might use meat wagons.' noted Kel'thuzad. 'To shell the enemy fortifications, before moving in to finish off the defenders.'
'That would take too long.' replied Arthas. 'We'd come under attack before we could finish, and anyway. I would not say I like using meat wagons, they're… messy.' He recalled their assaults on the elves against orders. 'What of frostwyrms? Are there are any more of those we could access?'
'Certainly,' said Kel'thuzad 'however it will take us some time to draw them to us.'
'Then we must hold this position until they arrive.' decided Arthas. 'Once we have a sufficient force of them, we'll sweep over these Orcs like a great flood.'
'Be warned,' said Kel'thuzad 'frostwyrms are an arduous creature to control.'
It was an arduous process indeed. The frostwyrms arrived one at a time. With each one that arrived, Arthas felt a mental pressure descend on his mind. And as more came the pressure became worst. The beasts had a powerful will, far beyond that of ghouls or crypt fiends. They were a genuine struggle to control.
No sign was heard from the Blackrock Orcs. Their villages remained on watch the entire time. Arthas posted shades and saw that some of the communities had begun to evacuate.
More and more frostwyrms arrived. The wings of the undead dragons beat the air like thunder. The air trembled beneath the rumor of the host which now assembled.
Yet Arthas did not unleash the full might of the scourge. He was waiting for something, something that even he was unsure of. It came to him when a Frostwyrm landed upon the roof of the Necropolis to stare down at him. It wanted to be unleashed. Arthas smiled and threw back his heavy violet cloak. Another presence took hold of him, not entirely his own.
'Yes…' He said in a soothing tone, which was most certainly not his own. 'It's your turn now.'
The frostwyrm roared in triumph. It flew into the skies above, rallying its fellows as it descended upon the eastern village. Arthas pursued them, dark joy welling up within him like an endless fountain. He saw them lay waste to the remaining orcs, their icy breath consuming all who opposed him. In a matter of minutes, the encampment was lade to waste. That finished, Arthas directed them north to another village. These two were helpless before frostwyrms wrath!
Their chieftain was slain in moments. Their buildings were torn to shreds by the claws. The peons fled in terror into their homes. These went untouched by the will of the death knight who commanded them. When it had been destroyed Arthas paused to snatch up a tome of demon lore. All of the chieftains had one, it seemed.
Then he sent the frostwyrms north.
The Northwest village was the next to fall. The orcs were helpless before the onslaught. Their best defenses were obliterated. A farseer sent lightning bolts hurtling through the air to strike the dragons. One of them was consumed and fell to shatter on the ground. The others unleashed their breath and the farseer was slain. Several of them were flying slowly. They had been injured by the lightning. Arthas restored its strength with unholy energy. At last, the enemy was obliterated.
As they were heading to the northwest village, a red dragon hatchling flew out from its cave. It rushed at the frostwyrms. Arthas tried to direct the beasts to ignore the creature, and move on. Yet his command was crushed down by some other force and the beast was slain. Its little wings were frozen solid, and it collapsed to the ground dead.
He did not resurrect it; instead, he pressed onwards.
Northwest village was abandoned. Every man, woman, and child had fled from it. So not all the Blackrocks were fools.
The stronghold was broken to a thousand splinters. The barracks suffered a similar fate. The spirits lodges were torn to pieces and those within them devoured. The bestiary had its roof torn off, and every stall was crushed.
Now there was only one place left to conquer.
The bastion of the Blackrock Warlocks, which stood above him at the top of the mountain. The presence which had possessed him fled from Arthas' mind. He realized Kel'thuzad was staring at him in bemusement. That in itself was rather impressive. The Lich did not have eyeballs.
'What is it now?' snapped Arthas, feeling defensive.
'...I can't say that wasn't an effective strategy.' said Kel'thuzad after a moment. 'Yet was summoning an entire flight of Frostwyrm's necessary for victory?'
'It worked didn't it?' asked Arthas without apology.
All of a sudden a feeling of alarm hit them. Arthas turned and saw far below at the base of the hills his camp under assault by a host of red dragons. Beneath them were the warriors of the Blackrock Clan. Already the spirit towers which had been repaired were failing!
'Quickly Lich,' said Arthas 'we must defend our camp! Back my servants! Return to the camp!'
They descended the mountain with haste. The sound of the frostwyrms beating wings all around them. The spirit towers had done their work well against the orcs. Yet the dragons were pressing against his forces. They had laid to waste his forces below with fire as hot as the flames of hell. Cursing that he had not brought crypt fiends with him, Arthas stopped.
He had no idea what was going on.
Oh, the situation was plain enough, but that didn't actually explain anything. There was no context for the red dragon flight to be defending these beasts. It didn't make sense. Unless…
The hatchling!
Over a single one of their children, killed in self-defense the entire flight had gone on the warpath! Could they really be so petty?
As he and his forces reached the camp, the orcs were all dead. Yet the dragons remained and even now were assailing the Halls of the Dead. Their breath consuming masonry and burned infernal statues to a cinder. Gesturing with Frostmourne in a motion, Arthas sent the frostwyrms forth. The undead dragons rushed towards their living counterparts. The red dragons swerved away from their siege and rushed to meet the undead flight in battle.
A symphony of frost and flame ensued as living and undead tore at each other with claws. They breathed their own brands of death against one another. The red dragons were larger and stronger. Yet the frostwyrms were more numerous. After a great battle, the ice of the Lich King quenched the Red Dragon Flight.
What remained of the flight turned and fled. Arthas let them go.
He was ill at ease. A disturbing thought made itself into his head. Arthas turned to Kel'thuzad. 'The red dragons are guardians of all life, correct?'
'So Kirin Tor research would indicate.' said Kel'thuzad, who was not particularly interested in the subject.
'And they are only now getting involved?' asked Arthas in disbelief. 'If I were in charge of this flight I would have involved myself; I don't know… when I was killing all the Paladins. That seems a more worthy faction to defend than these wretches!' He was surprised at how much emotion was raised on the subject. 'On second thought I would have gotten involved the moment a plague of undeath began. How many problems would they have solved if they had just incinerated Mal'ganis? If they had, Lordaeron would still be intact, you'd still be dead, and I'd be married to Jaina!' He halted as he realized what he had said. Memories which had thought long since suppressed welled up in his heart. He shook them off. There was no time for this. He realized he had said it in the tone of voice he had used as a Paladin. A tone he never used anymore.
Kel'thuzad himself seemed shocked by this outburst, though he recovered. 'You are not wrong Death Knight.' he admitted 'And in truth, similar observations are why I choose to serve the Lich King. I realized in my studies that the self-proclaimed 'guardians' of this world are of little help. They are more milestones around the neck of more traditional political entities.
'The Alliance was forced to go out of its way to free Alexstrasza from the orcs, and how does she repay them? By aiding the same orcs, long after the alliance which helped her has lost most of its greatest heroes. The Lich King proclaims himself to mankind. He grants him power and immortality in exchange for service? Yet the so-called guardian races remain on high, abandoning their supposed subjects.' He paused. 'It is simple. They are not gods, but parasites wrapped in fair forms.'
Arthas was aware that the acolytes had gathered. They were observing their conversation with interest. Somehow he was certain someone was writing all this down. 'I may be giving Alexstrasza too much credit.' He said after a moment. 'I'm assuming that she is what she claims to be, an all loving benevolent deity who cares about everyone. The dragons only involved themselves once we brought in frostwyrms.
'I have guessed their mind now. Like the elves, they did not view the scourge as any threat, and couldn't care less what occurred in Lordaeron. Once we brought in frostwyrms, they realized that we could wipe them out once all mortals fell. So they made an alliance with the Blackrock Clan, and tried to stop us here.'
'That is pure speculation.' noted Kel'thuzad, 'It is possible we have interfered with entirely unrelated machinations. Or their alliance with the orcs may have been to avenge the youth the frostwyrms slew. Yet I take your point. We must finish making an example of these orcs.'
'As you say, Lich.' agreed Arthas, before raising his sword. Frostmourne flickered with a pale light, and the red dragon's corpses suddenly shuddered. They shed their scales and flesh and arose as skeletal creatures. Their eyes were consumed and replaced with blue bonfires as they arose to serve the Lich King.
Very few things could motivate one to destroy the universe. Knowing that the guardians of the world were self-righteous hypocrites definitely helped. At least the Lich King kept his promises to loyal subjects.
Arthas led the swarms of dragons up through the hills. Yet as he a group of red dragon hatchlings appeared to harass them, Arthas had his forces pay them no mind and press on. After a brief pursuit, the Hatchlings gave up the chase and returned to their mother. The scourge pressed onward ever higher. The air became thinner and colder around them until at last, they came to the Warlock's Bastion.
'This camp guards the demon gate.' said Kel'thuzad to him. 'Defeat these orcs quickly so that I can contact demon lord.'
'Understood.' said Arthas.
Destroying Blackrock villages had become routine. The frostwyrms flew through the air and descended on the village. Yet then the red dragons appeared. A red-skinned orc bearing many tattoos arose on a building an hurled an axe spinning through the air. It cleaved right through the neck of a frostwyrm. His warriors hurled weights nets that dragged Frostwyrms down to earth.
The tattoo bearing orc drew a sword and leaped down to meet him. Their swords clashed and spun. They fought back and forth. Arthas found himself forced to yield ground beneath the onslaught; it was all he could do to survive.
Finally, he fell to one knee and stabbed under the orc's guard. His blade pierced his enemy's stomach. The orc brought down his own weapon to cleave at his shoulder. The blade broke the armor and dealt him a shallow wound. Arthas fell back in pain.
Drawing out his sword he rose and brought Frostmourne around. The orc rushed at him in the same moment. They passed each other. For a moment both were still. Then Arthas collapsed to his knees. He'd taken a slash to the side and was bleeding copiously. He felt weak.
Looking back he saw the orc fall.
His wounds would heal in time. Yet he could not fight like this. Some of the frostwyrms were looking ragged. Arrows and spears filled the sky.
'Pull back!' He snapped to Kel'thuzad. 'We'll regroup and try again later!'
He snatched up the tome the chieftain, he assumed he was the chieftain, and they fled. Yet the retreat was followed. Many Blackrock Warriors chased them down the hill with weapons ready. But the Red Dragons did not. The frostwyrms turned around and froze them dead where they stood. Arthas raised his sword and began to channel the darkness. It was hard, for knitting his wounds took a lot of power. But he managed to raise the orcs as undead. Now with a new army of ghouls, he motioned for them to charge. They climbed up the slopes, ignoring the harassment from the red dragons. Arthas watched in satisfaction. The pain of his wounds was fading. His armor was mending.
He was glad. Without it, he'd be a dead man.
'Forward my warriors! Let none stand against you!' called Arthas 'Wipe these orcs from the face of Azeroth!'
The undead army rushed with all their speed up the slopes, and descended upon the orcish defenses. The remaining orcs and their allies rushed to meet them. For a few terrible minutes, the enemy held them at bay. Warlocks cast profane magics into the midsts of their forces. Arrows were shot, and spears hurled that killed ghouls by the dozens. Orcish warriors hewed with their axes to destroy skeletons. Red dragons met their undead foe once again in the skies above. A frostwyrm and a red dragon clawed at each other in their, their breath. They fought against one another as both plummeted to earth. A tower was uprooted by a frostwyrm, who hurled it to knock over a second one. Ghouls dragged down orcish warriors and devoured their flesh. Kel'thuzad wielded frost and dark flame with practiced ease.
Even after the lines were broken the orcs continued to fight. Even as reinforcements arrived from elsewhere to aid them. The battle reached the center of the town. On and on it waged, no quarter asked or given. Finally, every last warrior within the village was dead.
Many undead had been claimed for that victory. Thousands upon thousands of undead lay dead upon the battlefields. Of those, not all could be returned to undeath.
Although he had held them in contempt, Arthas felt a surge of respect for orcs. They had stayed the course. They had fought on in the name of their master's, and they had died gloriously.
He wished it could stop there. However, that was not his decision to make.
A red dragon roost was found overturned. The creatures within were destroyed. Arthas had wanted to spare them, and yet he could not. The matter was out of his hands as a force other than he directed the undead. Arthas wanted to spare the peons who hid within their homes. However, it was beyond his ability to refuse as he found himself slaughtering them all to the last man woman and child. An infants screams were cut off. He found himself reliving memories of Stratholme. He realized as the bloodshed continued that he had come full circle.
He began by fighting orcs in defense of the innocent. Now he was slaughtering those among them who were innocent. Of course, the other villages had gone untouched; only their warriors had been killed. Yet as a mother begged before him, her child in her arms he found himself approaching her, blade in hand. It was not within his power to grant mercy here.
Yet he felt nothing. He could not feel grief.
His sword fell for the last time.
'The orcs have been slain.' He said, voice cold and sardonic. 'The Demon Gate is yours Lich.'
Kel'thuzad did not answer. The two of them made their way from their forces to stand before the Demon Gate. It was indeed an impressive structure. It towered over the landscape with green flames flickering before it. Many glowing green runes were upon its red and black surface. They projected an unworldly light. Arthas halted some ways back. Kel'thuzad approached the gate and raised his clawed hands in supplication and worship.
'I call upon thee, Archimond!' proclaimed Kel'thuzad 'Your humble servant seeks an audience.'
Within the flames now appeared a Demon, though he was not like Mal'ganis. Mal'ganis had been horrifying to behold and held a tremendous power of his own. Yet comparing him to Archimond was like comparing a fly to a horse. Archimond looked closer to human, yet his skin was blue, and a number of tentacles fell from his chin. He was clad in golden armor that showed his muscular frame, and his every fiber radiated power. His eyes were as deep as the abyss, and he spoke in a voice of command.
'You called my name, puny Lich.' Said Archimond 'and I have come. You are Kel'thuzad, are you not?' He did not pay Arthas a glance.
'Yes, great one,' said Kel'thuzad, worship in his voice. 'I am the summoner.'
'Very well then,' said Archimond, 'there is a special tome you must find… the only remaining spellbook of Medivh, the Last Guardian. Only his lost incantations are powerful enough to bring me into your world.'
'Where should we search for it, great one?' asked Kel'thuzad.
'Seek out the mortal city of Dalaran.' replied Archimond 'It is there that the tome is kept. At twilight, three days from now, you will begin the summoning.' Then there was a rising of flame, and he was gone from sight. The portal faded into nothingness. The runes light was extinguished as Arthas realized what was happening.
Prince Arthas Menethil would be returning to Dalaran at long last. This time with an army at his back. He almost wished that some spirit was here to make mocking commentary to him. To confront him with how far he had fallen. Yet none appeared. He'd left Sylvanas Windrunner and her forces alive in Quel'thalas. He hoped he wouldn't have to face Jaina while he was there.
'Old memories?' asked Kel'thuzad suddenly.
'Yes,' said Arthas 'how did you know?'
'I have them as well.' replied Kel'thuzad. 'I learned in Dalaran as a boy.' His voice became lower. 'I taught in Dalaran as a master. Then I was banished for necromancy.' For a moment he seemed distant before he roused himself. 'Now, it seems, we shall destroy it together.'
'I might be able to avert that.' said Arthas quietly.
'You might at that,' noted Kel'thuzad 'but it doesn't really matter. Our course is set.'
They spoke no more words during the journey. They left behind them the ruins of the once proud Blackrock Clan. The flames climbed high over the hills. Smoke could be seen for miles around. The news was heard throughout the land that the last remnants of the Old Horde had been swept away.
No one mourned their loss.
Authors Note:
And we've got a three-parter today. I remember this was my least favorite chapter to write when I first wrote this thing. The Blackrock Orcs really lack any emotional connection to Arthas. None of the Blackrock warriors stand out as characters. It basically is a destroy all enemy bases mission.
Even so, I think I managed to add some character development for Kel'thuzad and Arthas. And it does resolve the Blackrock plotline. So that's something.