A/N: Please note that this is of course Fan Fiction, therefore the events described would be slightly deviated from the orginal telling.

And nope, I in fact do not own Warcraft or anything else I write about.

Chapter 25

Formations assembled outside the gates of the stronghold. Heavy infantry with their steel swords and shields lined up in front. Though they were heavily laden with their newfound armor, they still maneuvered around with considerable speed. Units of archers and light infantry were quickly rallied close behind them. The garrison was left under the control of a banshee with five hundred soldiers.

The Dark Lady was pleased to see the addition of horses to her army. All twenty of them were presented personally by the small group of Necromancers to the Dark Lady. They appeared far different than any other horse. Much different than those that the Lich King's Death Knights rode upon. Their bodies were far more emaciated and seethed clouds of smoke from their bone exposed carcasses. The Banshee Queen and many members of the council took a steed. Wayne and Nollis sharing the same horse with Wayne at the reins.

Together the army moved at a brisk pace through the darkened land with the Dark Lady's banshees leading the way. Snow impeded their progress but not as much as the fog on the previous night. On horseback it was infinitely more comfortable for Wayne to transverse the distance. By now he reasoned that his leg was beyond repair, though perhaps it could be replaced.

Visions soon came to inform them that the target was close. The unmistakable noises of weapons being drawn tight and ready resounded. All came to a halt as they came within sight of the capital city walls. Undead were listlessly standing around on the ramparts, appearing more than dead to the world. The Dark Lady was about to pass the vision to her army and to the groups of murlocs, orges and knoll forces when a voice boomed out and interrupted her.

"We can avoid this Sylvanas," Tichondrius said. "There is no need for any further bloodshed."

Everyone's eyes focused on the figure of Tichondrius as he appeared above the main gate. The Dark Lady tightened the grip on her bow but kept it lowered.

"You want peace now Tichondrius? Were you not in favor of eliminating me and my Forsaken just days ago?" returned the Dark Lady.

"It was Detheroc that was so eager for your destruction. Now that he is out of the way we can form our own agreement," Tichondrius said.

"Sorry to disappoint you but I already have one Dreadlord to do my bidding and I do not need another," said the Dark Lady.

"Bring him forward," Tichondrius said darkly.

Varimathras walked forward on his own esteem and stood next to the Dark Lady on her horse. He stared outwards towards his brethren with uncertainty in his eyes.

"I wanted to believe Detheroc when he told me you died in battle," Tichondrius said.

"I have made my own choices," Varimathras said. "And I have no regrets."

"You are a coward!" Tichondrius screamed.

The Dreadlord went on shouting hoarse insults in his demonic tongue. The Dark Lady saw her opportunity. She gave Wayne a single nod and he fully understood, his left hand reached outwards. Though the distance was great, the grip and power of his magic was greater. The demon slammed onto the ground then tumbled and skidded through the snow towards him.

Many Forsaken dismounted and moved forward ready to end the Dreadlords life. Most notably among them was Blightcaller, who already had an axe raised high. The Dark Lady was also prepared to finish him, her bow was in full taunt with the arrow following the rolling Dreadlord. To the suprise of everyone, the undead on the ramparts took no notice of their commander's danger. Tichondrius seemed to have absolutely no control over them as none came to his aid.

Tichondrius stopped a few yards in front of Wayne's horse. His bones were straightened out and he was lifted upwards so he floated upright a few inches above the ground. Screaming in agony and trying to resist the hold over him, the Dreadlord bellowed in rage. His ability to teleport was also disabled as he was unable to focus and concentrate his energy.

"It is still not too late brother!" Tichondrius screamed. "Kill the banshee and free me! We can still rule these lands together! Side by side as we were meant to be!"

It was apparent that his pleas fell on deaf ears as the circle of Forsaken closed in around hm. They were waiting for the signal from their Queen as she lowered her bow slowly. Wayne was beginning to feel the strain of his spell as his arm began slightly trembling.

"Varimathras!" called out the Dark Lady.

"Yes My Lady," said the Dreadlord softly as he stood so close to her.

"I give you the honor of disposing of him," said the Banshee Queen vehemently.

"I cannot do such a thing," Varimathras said aghast. "It is forbidden."

"Whom do you serve demon?" the Dark Lady said in a dangerous and wicked tone.

"The Queen of the Forsaken," Varimathras said in a defeated voice.

"Then do as I command and kill him!" said the Dark Lady with extreme force in her voice.

The circle parted to allow Varimathras through. He stood face to face with Tichondrius as his face contorted in hate and rage. Varimathras mirrored those emotions as he became a vessel for the commands of his Queen. Without saying a word to his former associate, he buried his sharp claws deep into Tichondrius's neck.

Wayne released his hold over the demon after a few moments. His dying body fell back to the earth, black blood soaking everything. After a few more twitches of his body he was dead and quickly growing cold.

Varimathras stood over the corpse, his mind no longer offered anymore qualms about his duty to the Dark Lady. From then on the rest of the Forsaken held trust in the Dreadlord, his loyalty had been proven beyond the shadow of a doubt. The Dark Lady gave the signal to storm the capital and they were met with no resistance from the mindless undead.

As the main army moved forward, a few lingered where they were. Wayne kept his eyes tuned on Varimathras, trying to comprehend his thoughts. At last the Dreadlord moved on and began slowly walking towards the city. Wayne was about to follow when he noticed Blightcaller fervently leaning over the slain Dreadlord.

"What are you doing Blightcaller?" Wayne said in a not-so-suprised tone.

"A souvenir," Blightcaller said as he turned around and flashed Wayne a wide smile.

Inside Blightcaller's rotting mouth were but a few scattered black teeth. Looking down he saw a crude pair of pliers gripped onto the demon's sharp teeth. They were long, sharp and plentiful in number.

"That's disgusting Blightcaller," Wayne said without a hint of sincerity.

"I need a new set of teeth to make up for not being able to kill this bastard," Blightcaller said.

Wayne rode away and into the capital city courtyard, leaving Blightcaller alone to pluck the rest of the demonic teeth. Undead were being felled like stalks of corn all around the keep and ramparts. Wayne and Nollis dismounted, he was ready to raise the dead and celebrate the total victory of the Forsaken.

End of Chapter 25

A/N: Does not end here folks! Soon I will be moving into the expansion of the Forsaken and the joining of the Horde. Plenty more Forsaken fan service on the way! R&R, thoughts and opinions always welcome and enjoyed!