Chapter 25: Enemy of my Enemy

"Absolutely not, grunt."

"But-"

"Our orders are to return to the stronghold immediately; we need every strong arm, and we cannot divert resources to rescue your friend. I'm afraid that he's gone."

Torgall stared, incensed and fuming, at the old blademaster, who regarded him with narrowed eyes. After the fight between the two dragons, it quickly became clear that Torgus had been carried off with the frostwyrm. His immediate action, then, was to ask Akinos to dispatch forces to retrieve him - or at least discover his fate.

He had been sadly disappointed.

"Then allow me - us - to find him," he urged, indicating Greshka, Fenris, Kunasha and Sapph. Akinos stared, slightly wary, considering.

"No," he said heavily, "as I said, we need every able fighter to join us. We cannot-"

"A handful of us won't make a difference-" Torgall started, but Akinos cut him off.

"I decide how many soldiers make a difference," growled Akinos warningly. Torgall fell silent, and the blademaster continued to watch him carefully, before saying, "I'm sorry, but your friend is lost."

Torgall nodded slowly, returning to the others who had been watching from afar; the conversation had been held mostly in whispers and low growls, so as not to attract the attention of the other warriors. In the chaos of the battle, few had realized that one brave orc had literally leapt onto the back of the monster and attempted to slay it directly.

Valnok Windrager had immediately led a chase after the frostwyrm under the pretence of trying to finish off the dragon, or so they had told Akinos. The windrider had then quietly disclosed to Torgall and his companions that he had followed the dragon's path, and seen it descend within a Scourge camp. They were able to see Torgus put up a brief fight, but he was swiftly overwhelmed. A shadowy human had approached the captured orc before they had been spotted circling above, and were forced to flee.

"Your friend is captured, that much is clear," he had told them, "but something about the whole scenario suggests he hasn't simply been slain... Perhaps he is still alive."

It was that potential hope that Torgall had seized upon, and attempted to convince Akinos with - omitting the fact that Valnok had intentionally led his windriders for the very purpose of discovering Torgus' fate - but with little success.

"What of-?" Greshka began to ask, but Torgall shook his head darkly. Her face fell, her dismay apparent, and Fenris, too, was frowning.

"But we cannot simply leave a warrior in the hands of these abominations!" he burst out angrily, "It would be shameful!"

Torgall sighed, agreeing inwardly, but saying, "True, but Akinos believes the greatest objective at the moment is to continue south."

"But has he not seen all the warriors he commands?" snapped Greshka, staring around at the many grunts, headhunters and other soldiers continuing the march purposefully southward, "How are we to make a difference if we are absent?"

"A sentiment I agree with, but which Akinos does not," sighed Torgall. "We are to continue south and leave Torgus to his fate."

Greshka stared at him disbelievingly - she looked as though he had struck her. However, before she could say anything, Sapph was speaking.

"Of course," she said, having listened to this entire conversation while staring in another direction disinterestedly, but now fixing Torgall with a smirk, "you don't intend to actually follow those orders, do you?"

Torgall returned the smile.

"No," he said simply, "I do not."

"More gargoyles from above!"

"Archers, protect the magisters!"

Colonel Lorena's order cut across the sounds of battle, and elven and orcish archer alike hastened to obey her command. Sure enough, the gargoyles made straight for the magic wielders, amongst which stood Jaina Proudmoore, Lucethious Manadawn and Yulgash, but were repulsed by a veritable hailstorm of arrows. Several of the batlike fiends screeched as the projectiles tore through their wings, and they plummeted to the ground.

"Fight on, my warriors! Our brethren rush to our aid!"

Thrall charged into the thick of the battle, swinging Doomhammer with incredible force. He rushed headlong at an abomination, slamming the mighty hammer against the ground - the earth buckled outwards, upending the hulking monstrosity, at which it was immediately set upon by a number of warriors. The warchief then summoned the elements to unleash a barrage of lightning - several skeletal warriors were reduced to piles of charred bones.

As a pack of ghouls rushed to take their place, a magical blizzard bathed the undead. From atop the ramparts, the magisters were working together for a focused magical assault. The key aspect of this magical attack was that it attacked the unliving alone - within moments, several of the Scourge had been frozen in place. The infantry defenders capitalized on this advantage, slamming the frozen targets with enough force to cause them to shatter.

And yet still the Scourge kept coming.

At the outskirts of the battle, the Scourge catapults - dubbed meat wagons - continued to hurl festering corpses at the walls. While physically they dealt little damage against structures, the rotting meat carried all number of diseases, and were very effective at dispersing the defenders. The Alliance had stationed a number of ballistae on the walls with the archers and magisters, but it was difficult to strike the wagons with the heavy bolts - the catapults were more mobile, and the cultists were wily enough to keep them out of striking range.

"We can't keep this up forever," Yulgash panted, invoking another incantation - a gargoyle burst into flame and fell, shrieking, to the ground.

"We must remain vigilant," Lucethious murmured - he gestured, and a several bolts of energy rocketed outwards, striking an abomination square in the head, knocking it to the ground. A moment later he was forced to dive down, cursing, as a gargoyle swooped down at him, its claws missing him by inches.

"But where has Torgall gone? And his companions?" asked Yulgash, frowning with concentration as he summoned a rain of fire upon the advancing Scourge - the searing flames scorched a number of the shambling zombies.

"I believe..." grunted Lucethious, straightening up and dusting off his robes, "that they have been sent to the north... to retrieve some Horde forces or somesuch..."

"We sure could use them..." muttered Yulgash, withdrawing some fine crystal powder from within his robes. He held his hand out, palm up with the powder atop it, and waved his other hand over the powder. Immediately it was launched into the air, where it fell upon those below - and when it touched the Scourge, they burst into flame. He nodded before adding, "there's only so much we can do..."

"I think he may have stopped watching us."

"Are you sure? If we're spotted..."

"Even if we are, I doubt he'll spend much time chasing us down - he's too focused on relieving our brethren."

"Indeed - his very fervor will be his undoing in this matter..."

They held their conversation in whispers, trying to remain inconspicuous and avoiding attracting Akinos' attention. Since Torgall's attempt to convince him to allow their leave, he had been eyeing them carefully, but apparently satisfied that they would not attempt anything foolhardy, he had relaxed his gaze. They had been quick to pick up on this, and were now making preparations to desert - in a way.

"Slow your pace - fall to the back of the troops, but quietly," Torgall ordered in soft tones. They nodded, allowing the other warriors to steadily bypass them. It was slow, as they had to do so without arousing attention, but with only a slight change in speed, the other warriors had soon begun to outpace them.

"Wait until there's a thick cluster of trees," he said, still keeping his eyes on Akinos' retreating back. The others gave him a sideways glance of acknowledgement. They continued to follow along with the other warriors, all the while marching along with the rest. However, after a few minutes, the forest thickened briefly - just as Torgall had hoped.

"We have to let Akinos move around the trees," Torgall said, slowing his pace yet further. Other warriors still passed them, sparing them barely a glance. Before long they were at the end of the others, and Akinos was well out of sight.

"Now!" he hissed, and at his command they sprinted into the thick forest, the sounds of marching fading into the background. The ran as fast as they could, their feet thudding against the forest floor, their heavy breathing piercing the forest silence. Torgall was half-expecting Akinos to leap out from behind a tree, waving his warblade and bellowing that they were deserting, commiting treason, that they would be slain for this dishonour...

But of course, he did not. They had already put a great deal of distance between themselves and the reinforcements, and no other orcs followed their trail. Confident that they would not be missed - at least, not for some time - Torgall focused his thoughts on the Scourge outpost Valnok had described; its location, the defenders, and of course, Torgus being their prisoner. The thought of his captured friend drove him on, and the others ran alongside him silently, his resolve reflected in their faces.

As they continued to run north, the changes from Ashenvale and the northern forests once more became apparent. The twisted and gnarled trees started to show, the earth became cracked and dead beneath their feet. They had only had a brief chance to appreciate Ashenvale's forboding beauty, having barely been in the forest again for long, and having to return to the corrupted forests brought wrinkled noses and looks of disgust. However, their purpose for being here far outweighed having to be in the presence of dying trees.

They stopped repeatedly for brief respites, ever wary of potential Scourge or wildlife. They had seen what horrors the plague had wrought on the wolves and bears of the land, and even the owls had been aggressive of late. More than once, a wolf leapt out of the shadows at them, half-blind with pain and fury, trying to distract itself from its own anguish by inflicting it on others. These lone wanderers had been easily disposed of, but it disturbed them - the plague truly spread death and corruption wherever it touched.

It was approaching mid afternoon when they neared the area that had been described to them. Abruptly, however, Sapph and Greshka both came to a halt, each raising a hand. Torgall reluctantly came to a stop, and Fenris and Kunasha joined them, frowning slightly. The elf and orc were both standing stock still, squinting slightly, their eyes narrowed, and listening hard. Torgall looked around, unable to tell what they were searching for, but long since resigned to the fact that their senses were far more acute than his.

And then, the silence of the forest was broken by a flapping of wings. They dived aside inscinctively - dragons? Gargoyles? The strange winged beasts the night elves rode?

Instead, a wyvern swooped out of the sky amongst them. Torgall recognized it and its rider immediately, his heart sinking - it was Bristlefur and Valnok. A moment later and the remainder of his windriders had landed as well, their wyverns growling slightly. The orcs held their spears ready, and Torgall realized that they had likely been given orders to slay them for dissent. Valnok was not carrying a spear like his fellow riders, Torgus having taken it during the battle with the frostwyrm - Torgall still had his mace. Nonetheless, Bristlefur was equally as deadly.

"So," Valnok said, eyeing them through his steel helm, "Akinos was right. You deserted the Horde to try and rescue your friend."

Around him, the others rose, their hands on their weapons but not actually drawing them. Torgall gave them a sideways glance, silently ordering them not to do anything foolhardy, but tensed all the same. Before he could answer, however, Valnok had dismounted and was approaching him.

"We've been ordered to bring you back. You will fight in battle against the Scourge, then you will be charged accordingly."

Torgall gripped his axe tightly, ready to fight if need be.

"However... I have a different story," said Valnok, and Torgall paused. "I leave you here. You go on, I return. And I tell Akinos I saw you being overwhelmed in battle by the Scourge, trying to rescue your friend."

Torgall raised an eyebrow. Was Valnok speaking truthfully?

"What do you wish for in return?" he asked after several moments of silence. Valnok regarded him carefully.

"Nothing," he finally replied. "I think what you're doing is a noble thing, choosing not to abandon a friend to a fate worse than death. Akinos means well, but he is stubborn and utterly devoted to the warchief - he follows his orders to the letter without considering the alternatives. So sometimes it's necessary for others to... take command, as it were."

As he spoke, he returned to Bristlefur and re-seated himself on the wyvern. His other windriders were staring at him, but said nothing.

"Fight well - your friend needs you," he said. Torgall nodded.

"Thankyou - for this," Torgall said. Valnok smiled.

"May your axe arm be strong," he replied, before slapping Bristlefur on the flank and taking flight. His windriders followed.

"Valnok Windrager is honourable indeed," rumbled Fenris, watching the windriders depart over the horizon.

"Yes..." Torgall said slowly, before recalling the task at hand. Motioning to the others to follow, he led them further northward. The near presence of the Scourge was evident now - the corruption seemed deeper here, and the plague had deeply affected the land. The ground was slightly muddy with thick, green ichor that gave off an eerie glow. They crept silently through the trees, listening for ambushes, but the forests remained silent. Before long, they had reached a particularly dense line of trees. One by one, they peered through them, and each gave a small gasp of horror.

This part of the forest had been thoroughly cleared, and a few pyramidal-shaped structures had been erected within. Ghouls and zombies shambled about, and there was an abomination standing guard as well. What truly appaled them, however, was a strange pit in the centre of the outpost, surrounded by three skull-shaped braziers that burned with jade fires. At the head of this altar-like assembly was a human dressed in long, shadowy robes - the one Valnok had described.

And next to him, bound and barely concious, was Torgus.

They stared at this gathering - it seemed the cultist was making some kind of speech to the assembled Scourge.

"Our army of the dead shall march across this wretched land!" he cried, his voice carrying clearly. "We shall cleanse the foul stench of life off the face of this planet, eradicating all that stand against us! We take their mightiest defenders, those who would defy our master, and imbue their power into our own!"

Torgall felt a chill run down his spine as the human spoke, but forced himself to remain calm. He faced the others and said, "We have to get in and out. Kill any that stand in your way. I'll go straight for the human and take him out - but we must move quickly. The frostwyrm could very easily be nearby."

"And if it is nearby?" whispered Greshka. Torgall grimaced.

"Then Valnok will be right, won't he?" he replied. Greshka shook her head at the lack of planning but fell silent as the human continued speaking.

"When we slay their defenders, their power joins us! We raise them in undeath, and the strength they wielded in life becomes one with us! Beginning with this orc-" He kicked Torgus' barely moving form, "-I shall demonstrate the wrath of the Scourge!"

"NO!"

Torgall bellowed in rage as he leapt into the clearing. The human stared at him, alarmed, but the undead felt no such surprise - already the ghouls were advancing. Even as he watched, several of the spider creatures emerged from the earth, claws raised, but at the same time his companions joined him. Greshka and Sapph burst from the undergrowth, firing several arrows each, and a handful of ghouls and zombies crumpled. Torgall and Fenris charged forward, the latter barreling into skeletons and sending bones flying, either with his totem or simply utilizing his massive bulk, while Torgall weaved throughout the undead, hacking and slashing. Kunasha remained behind Sapph and Greshka, murmuring the same incantation she used against the night elves.

As the breeze kicked in once more, Torgall leapt over several zombies, landed heavily on a cultist and brought his axe down. The splatter of blood reinvigorated him, set his blood pounding - it reminded him what it truly meant to be an orc. Brimming with new energy, he gave a second bellow that caused even the undead to falter, before engaging in earnest. Shambling corpses fell, their sluggish movements no match for heavy strikes that severed limb from body. Fenris was not too far from him, swinging his mighty totem with enough force to lift the Scourge off their feet.

Before long, Kunasha's wind spell had kicked into a full windstorm, buffeting the Scourge about. Unable to reach Torgall, the Scourge were unable to stop the orc as he moved unhindered to the altar. However, as he approached, the human raised a hand, energy wreathing around it, and fired a bolt of darkness - it caught him square in the chest. He doubled over, breathing heavily, seeing the cultist approach.

"Well, well," he said, grinning at the fallen orc, "you will make a fine minion, particularly to fight alongside your friend here..." Torgus groaned weakly, and the human raised his hands, more energy springing into life. But as he prepared to cast the spell, Torgall imagined himself as a rotting, fetid corpse, trying to kill his friends, destroying the world that he had grown so accustomed to...

The thought of becoming the horrors that he fought enraged him, and with a snarl, he leapt up, pushing aside the pain of the magical attack. The human's eyes widened in shock and fear as the warrior bore down on him - he let out a pathetic shriek as Torgall's axe bit deep into his side, spraying blood outwards. The human collapsed on the edge of the pit, gasping in pain, his fingers fumbling uselssly to stop the flow of blood. Torgall snorted in disgust before running to his companion.

"Torgus!" he shouted, "Torgus, can you hear me?!"

His friend looked terrible: he was an extremely pale shade of green, and a slight amount of saliva - discoloured, no less - trickled from the corner of his mouth. At one point he lifted an eyelid, and the eyeball was unfocused, staring almost into the back of his head. It was also very, very bloodshot. Torgus' breathing was ragged and light, and his chest only rose slightly. As he shook his friend, he ripped at the ropes until they fell away. As they did so, Torgus' eyes finally fluttered open. He stared, half-shocked, half-horrified, at the scene before him.

"Torgus, come on!" he cried, still shaking the older orc roughly. Torgus still stared, transfixed, behind Torgall. After a moment, he murmured, "F... fur..."

"What?" Torgall said - was he delirious?

"Furb... furbolgs... furbolgs..." Torgus said weakly, raising a quivering arm. Torgall stared at him, before looking over his shoulder.

He did a double take.

Furbolgs had indeed swarmed the area, and were snarling and growling, viciously swinging at the Scourge. Torgall had been too focused on Torgus to hear them. He frowned - these furbolgs looked different, however. Their fur was matted, dirty, and even patchy, revealing red raw flesh beneath. They were also crazed, frenzied, attacking anything in range - including Torgall's companions. It was clear that these were not of Meilosh's tribe, or if they were, they had been corrupted, no doubt by the Blight. Even as he watched, Torgall's friends retreated towards he and Torgus; the furbolgs kept the Scourge at bay enough for them to retreat.

"We have to get out of here!" Greshka panted, helping Torgall heave Torgus to his feet, "These furbolgs are insane! If the Scourge don't kill us, they certainly will!"

"Torgus!" Torgall yelled, trying to get his friend to wake up properly, "We have to get moving! Come on!"

"Allow me," Kunasha said softly, gently resting a paw on Torgus' cheek. Under her murmured instruction, her healing magic steadily revitalized the grizzled orc. Torgall waited tensely, very much aware that the Scourge and furbolgs were too close for comfort. Indeed, more than once a ghoul or furbolg would attempt to attack them, but on these occasions they were easily beaten back. If a number of them decided to focus on them at once, however...

Fortunately, after a minute or so of Kunasha's magic, Torgus' eyes finally opened fully. He gave a ragged gasp before straightening up and seeing them properly.

"Somehow I knew you'd come get me," he said in a hoarse voice. He surveyed the chaos around them. "Managed to bring some of our furry friends with you, huh?"

"Not quite," Torgall said, both relieved that Torgus was finally awake, and frustrated that it had taken so long, "they'll come after us if we don't move!"

As if to accentuate this point, yet another furbolg made for the group - Fenris caught it in the chest with a heavy strike from his paw, sending it toppling. The sight surprised Torgus enough to allow him to be alert to his fullest, at least relative to his ordeal.

"Come on," he growled, "I know a place... Might be safe, or might not... but anywhere's better than here..."

He stood with a slight limp, but his face was determined. Torgall handed him his mace, and Torgus nodded his thanks. Slowly, and with a certain degree of unsteadiness, the older orc led the group away from the battling undead and furbolgs, and towards uncertain safety.