Authors Note:
So If I did my math, and lore, right, the Second war was over twelve years before current events...
Chapter Twelve:
Halford ran a hand through his sandy hair, his gilded helmet set beside him on the planning table, looking down upon it with his other two commanders, at the battle plan and the layout of Naxxramas.
He heard clinking, like that of armor, and looked up to see Tavin and Aydeline strolling into the courtyard, surprisingly up early, as it was only just peaking dawn.
"Tavin.. Aydeline .. early risers I see." Halford said, beckoning him over.
Tavin nodded and set his helmet down as well, glancing over the table's contents, Aydeline stepping up behind him, fixing her chain mail shirt.
"What is the plan?" Tavin asked.
"The remainder of our men will be here shortly, along with Eligor.. I will explain then." he said.
Tavin nodded and still focused on the plan, gazing over it with interest
It wasn't before long before Tavin heard much commotion behind him, turning to see a mass mob of steel and faces piling into the courtyard, Eligor's vivid gold and crimson armor streaking for them, taking his position at the table.
The men all settled down, gazing at the commanders expectantly.
Tavin counted at least eighty.. take or give a few, some of them leaning against the courtyards stone wall, causing Tavin to remember him doing the very same not to long ago.. in a small chapel in a forsaken land.
He smiled to himself, and began to listen as Halford spoke up.
"Men of the 7th Legion.. of the Brotherhood.. of mixed races, and backgrounds, you come today, to finally succeed against what has been oppressing us for the past months, plaguing over lives..." he pointed a gauntleted hand to the partially visible top of Naxxramas to the east.
"Naxxramas" he said distastefully.
"Provided for us, by a trusted source, we're the plans of Naxxramas... Everything we've read from this and books, and surviving soldiers, have all aligned up, and we will use this to our immediate advantage."
"Naxxramas has four wings, all a key to opening the platform to its master's chamber.." he began. "the accursed Kel'Thuzad reigns over Naxxramas."
Halford gazed over the upturned faces.
"But not for long." he said.
A few of them men cheered in agreement, but Halford merely raised a palm.
"This force will be split into four, of roughly twenty per force, each with a respective commander."
"Eligor, and his men, will be assaulting the Arachnid Quarter, where lies several of the Scourge's most vile lieutenants." he said.
"Next, Commander Windstryke and her force will be tackling the Plague Quarter, where in lies the abominations and bumbling brutes of the Scourge I am sure all of you men yourselves are familiar with." he said.
He then pointed to the other commander at the table. "Highlord Zeldig and his men will be bravely assaulting the Plague Quarter.."
Finally he pointed to himself. "Myself, and Lieutenant Commander Wilhelm will be assaulting in what could be the most difficult of the wings: The Military Quarter."
"You were given you Commander's name, and thus should you report to them now, we will begin the assault at approximately high noon.. be prepared men, for ahead you will see vile and twisted things, steel your mind and your body."
With that, he stepped down, Tavin behind him.
Within hours.. the assault would begin.
Tavin leaned against the wooden support railing, gazing out over the Carrion Fields, his nerves slightly racked at this point, but the never the less he forced himself to be calm.
Halford suddenly stepped up beside him, gazing out over the field's as well.
"Why did you say the Military Quarter is possibly the most difficult of the wings." Tavin suddenly said.
Halford glanced at Tavin, then said "It is the training area for the Scourge's new acolytes and death knights... but at the very end, is and are the four most dangerous Scourge, other than the Lich King himself."
"Who?" Tavin asked.
"The Four Horsemen." he said.
To Tavin, it sounded like something out of a horror tale, or some child's fantasy book, told only to them on Hallows Eve, but even then, he knew Halford wouldn't be joking at this point.
"Who are they?" Tavin asked.
"Once, men and women like us.. all of them paladin's." he began. "One of them succumbed to the Plague, another was forced to serve, the other was killed, and then raised in battle.. and finally the last one was betrayed."
"Thane Korth'azz, Lady Blaumeux, Sir Zeliek and finally... Highlord Mograine, Together the Four Horsemen of the Scourge."
He picked his head up, "However.. rumor goes that Mograine himself has disappeared... and in his stead a Baron was placed."
He glanced over at Tavin expectantly.
Tavin's face darkened as he remembered Stratholme, and fighting the Baron himself, before the Baron fled, leaving their small band of men to fight Balnazzar, the wicked dreadlord whom had been possessing Grand Crusader Dathrohan, the current leader of the Scarlet Crusade at the time.
"Baron Rivendare.." Tavin said distastefully.
Halford nodded and switched his gaze back to Naxxramas.
Suddenly from behind them, a warhorn sounded signifying it was high noon; invasion time.
"Ready?" Tavin asked, glancing over at Halford.
Halford nodded.
With that, they set out, aiming for the keep, where in the would find the rest of their invasion force.
Tavin could feel the tensions were high and the anxiousness pumping through all the men's minds as they stood their, most helmet's removed and under their owners arms, their faces upturned, the battle standards waving slightly in the Dragonblight wind, as the prepared to give their life, need be, for the final bringing down of Naxxramas.
Halford carefully stepped through the men, Tavin behind him, stepping up onto the slightly elevated stone platform, gazing out over the upturned faces, his plated gauntlet raised up, drawing everyone's eye, and pulling every mouth shut.
"Brave men, I see before me not soldiers, but all champions and heroes, ready and willing to bring this tyranny to its knees!" he said. "Today, we take a stab at the reign of the Lich King, our success bringing his evil regime one step closer to its fall... Today! We shall. Not. Fail!" he shouted, earning a vigorous shaking roar from the men, their steel and mail clad fists raised up, their voices lifted as they roared in agreement.
"Our Silver Covenant mage allies will be assisting us with entering Naxxramas, and such as we will go force by force, my men going first." he said. "But steel yourself men, use your faith in the Light, as we have a precarious and dangerous battle ahead..." he said, stepping off the pedestal and making his way back out of the Courtyard, slipping his gilded helmet on as he stepped past men, Tavin close behind.
"Tavin!" a voice called out, causing Tavin to turn, finding Ithmair and his kinsmen approaching.
They wore bronzed mail, jeweled belts beset with emeralds girding their waist, several variations of weapons hanging from their belts.
"Ithmair!" Tavin called out, stopping briefly before the mages.
"Myself and my men have volunteered to assist Commander Dawnbringer in the Arachnid Quarter, seeing as the multitudes of poisons that lie around every corner within their, but Lord Afrasastrasz will be assisting your and Commander Wyrmbane in your assault." he said.
Tavin nodded, "Then Light bless you friend, and hopefully I will see you again later in our assault." he said.
Ithmair nodded and smiled as well, "Dragon's blessing to you too." he answered, with that turning on heel, and heading back towards Eligor, Aydeline in turn walking past them, up to Tavin.
She smiled at him, and walked past, brushing him ever so slightly as she passed by.
Tavin smiled to himself, and turned around, gazing along the ground, and what was drawn upon it.
An intricate pattern of a circle with several ley lines drawn through it rested on the ground, traced in with blue residue and powder by the Silver Covenant mages that now stood at specific points around it.
Tavin, along with the other twenty some odd men whom had just arrived, stepped into the circle, Tavin in turn slipping his helmet on, as he waiting amongst the other soldiers.
"Ready?!" one of the High Elves called out.
"Aye!" Tavin heard Halford reply.
With that, a sudden flash of blue engulfed Tavin as a sudden sense of vertigo gripped him, his vision spinning black, another sudden flash of light bringing him to hard ground, gazing over the Carrion Fields, but this time, from above, as he was now on the small saronite platform that rested underneath Naxxramas.
"Finally!" Tavin heard a rumbling voice.
He turned to see Afrasastrasz waiting, bouncing a few small pebbles in his palm impatiently.
"I take it we're ready then?" he asked, tossing the pebbles down.
Tavin nodded, and with one fluid movement, pulled his twin blades from their sheaths at his belt, and glanced to his acting Commander.
Halford smiled underneath his helmet, and pulled out his powerful longsword, swinging it towards the smashed open iron gate into Naxxramas, a roar of triumph ripping from his lips.
"For the Light!" he roared, surging forward, entering Naxxramas, Tavin in turn roaring behind him, following in pursuit with the gleaming steel pane of men, all ready and determined to bring Naxxramas to the ground, and end its reign over their lives.
They powerfully surged through the main halls, sweeping past decayed stone and sputtering candles, charging forward into a hallway, where in they found several death knight's waiting, although not for them, as was it could be seen by their surprised looks as they were swiftly and mercilessly cut down by the paladin's as they swarmed past, entering what Tavin could see was a training hall, as the sounds of clashing swords filled the air, accompanied by the tell tale shouts and yells of training knights below.
They hauled over the stairs, surging into the main training room, catching the trainee's by suprise, but some of them managed to put up a viable defense, nicking a few of the warriors, but within moments, all were dead; except for the trainer...
He stood at the head of the room in front of a metal gate, on a small circular platform, his striking blue armor vividly contrast to Naxxramas' sickly greens and dark hues.
"It seems my pupils haven't learned to much after all.. but no matter, they're replaceable." he said, gazing out at the men.
One of the warrior's suddenly roared and charged at the instructor, swinging his blade bravely at him.
The instructor merely caught the blade deftly in his palm, snapping it in two, before shoving one of the shards of the broken sword back into the mans neck, sending him sprawling and going limp.
Tavin growled, and his grip tightened on his swords, vowing vengeance on the, if reckless, knight.
The instructor in icy armor chuckled loudly, deep reverberating tone bouncing off the walls, sending shivers up Tavin's spine.
"So foolish they come these days.." he murmured.
"You'll die just like your brothers, Vile demon..." Halford said spitefully, before advancing on the instructor, however careful, now that he had seen what the empowered man, if he was one anymore, could do.
The man growled and brought a iron fist around, trying to strike Halford, but Halford skillfully ducked, ringing a blow off the man's wrist, much to his discontent.
Tavin dashed forward, joining the fight, along with the others, quickly swarming to Halford's aid.
The instructor's fists were a whirlwind of blows and attacks, striking them, sending several of the men flying, dents now adorning their breastplates.
You can't pierce his armor, Quick, distract him, I'll go for the neck! Afrasastrasz suddenly shouted to Tavin through their mental link.
Tavin nodded, and began hammering the man on the side with his twin blades, actually sending a spiderweb of cracks and splinters across the icy glaze that covered his blue armor, furthering his protecting.
He's covered with some sort of ice that's protecting him! Tavin relayed back to Afrasastrasz.
The instructor suddenly noticed Tavin, and turned to him, growling as he brought his vice gripped fist back, readying to strike.
However suddenly Afrasastrasz opened his palm, his draconic powers flowing through his veins, and sending a roaring jet of flame from his palm, slamming into the instructor, melting the ice that protected that side of him, and charring it black with soot.
The instructor roared and turned, striking Afrasastrasz in the chest, sending him skidding backwards.
However.. Afrasastrasz laughed...
"Weakling.." he taunted, burning off another jet of flames at the instructor, his draconic side beginning to show more and more as the fight prolonged, the only ones truly fighting anymore were Afrasastrasz and the Scourge, all others forgotten, even though their still continued to try and scratch or dent their foes armor.
Tavin took the opportunity of the distraction and grabbed a hold of the instructor's shoulder, slinging up and ramming his blade straight into the man's collarbone.
He roared and tried to knock Tavin off, but Tavin held on fitfully, his feet dangling above the ground as he was slung around, his grip on the sword loosening with both every swing and with the blood that was beginning to spurt on the hilt, covering Tavin's plate gauntlets in the plagued blood of the Scourge.
Tavin yelped as he slipped, the result sending him crashing to the floor, his armor clanking loudly as he struck the cobblestone, dazing him slightly, leaving him vulnerable.
However, his attack was not sought in vain, as it certainly weakened the instructor, as he stumbled slightly, blood now pouring profusely from the wound under his collarbone.
Tavin didn't know much about the anatomy of the Scourge, if even anything within their decayed bodies was needed, and if removed even effected them, but from the looks of it, Tavin knew his blade was lodged somewhere within the heart area, surely hitting some major organ.
He got his answer as the instructor tried to say something, but only black blood spurted from his lips, showing his weakness as a punctured lung.
Afrasastrasz instantly saw this and drew his jagged blade from his back, slinging it around and slicing open the instructor's neck, more blood pouring out as he fell to his knees, in obvious agony, either physical from his fatal wounds, or the mental fact he had failed..
Afrasastrasz gritted his teeth and with a powerful stroke... decapitated the man.
Tavin sighed in relief and sat up, wincing as his bruised midsection tingled with pain, but he ignored it and stood up, planting a firm foot on the fallen Scourge's shoulder and dislodging his blade, which was dripping with blood at this point.
"I see why you said this is the most difficult of the wings.." Tavin said to Halford, with a hint of dark humor.
Halford nodded and bent down, glancing with sorrow over his fallen brothers face.
"What are we going to do with the body?" Aydeline asked, standing at the head of the gathered.
"Leave it, for now.. we have no other choice." Halford said, regretfully.
They all nodded, and Halford motioned that they should continue forward.
"Be ready men, I suspect that the encounter we just had is the easiest we'll have it from here on out." Halford said, unraveling a now slightly ripped and frayed map of their wing from within his breastplate.
"What's ahead?" Tavin asked.
"From what I can see.. more corridors.. the map only tells me where to turn..." he said dryly, stowing the map back within his breastplate.
Tavin nodded and began walking forward again, his eyes darting back and forth, knowing it wouldn't be under the Scourge to be lurking in the shadows.. No honor.. No thinking.. only to kill.
The smell of the dead began to fill the air, Tavin wrinkling his nose at it, reminding him exactly of the Plaguelands from only months before, the nauseating smell that accompanied the lands, that the only relief from it was to get used to it.
A few of the men behind Tavin began hacking and grumbling at the smell, almost overwhelmed by it.
The source of the smell appeared as they entered a long elated room, almost a ball chamber, divided in two by a metal gate.
Littering the floor where multitudes of corpses, bones, skeletons, limbs and all of it was decaying, rotted.. and dead.
In the corner, were three cages, all with the only living things in the room, excluding them.
Halford exclaimed aloud, seeing the easily, if torn, recognizable tabard of the Alliance all adorning them, one of them even wearing the vivid gold seven of the Legion on the shoulders of his tabard.
"Faux!" Halford exclaimed, hurrying over the mounds of bodies to the cages.
Something within Tavin perked up at the name.. he knew that name...
He glanced at the man Halford was now breaking free from his cage, two other paladins breaking the other two prisoners out.
The man was ragged, worn and weathered, with a gray beard, evident in the need of a shave, his hair lanky and long, matching the color of his beard.
He was lean, with rippled muscle, but multiple bruises, scratches, cuts and gash's littered his torso, and the signs of malnutrition was evident on his gaunt face, and his thin skin.
"H-Halford.. Light be praised.. I never thought I'd see the living again.." He whispered hoarsely, glancing up at Tavin.
"Sixteen Years..." Halford whispered.
Tavin stepped up, suspicious of the man, as he for some reason knew him.. but how?
"Tavin, this is Commander Faux, I once served under him in the Second War.. but Faux, you vanished.... " Halford said, "I can see now where you went.." he whispered, but even so, Faux wasn't paying attention.
"Tavin..." Faux said, carrying off, looking at Tavin.
"I know that name.." he whispered, tears forming in his eyes, as something within him triggered.
"My.. My son!" he exclaimed.
