Sneaky AN: time for part 2 of the Borean Tundra! I can guarantee none of you will see this shit coming. Also the chapter would have been out far sooner if I hadn't dragged my dum fuking ass around

Grey AN: The fallout from this chapter and the next will impact the timeline something fierce. The Bronze don't like that… Me and Sneaky'll have to worry about them at some point trying to kill us at this rate.

The sun crested over the husk of what once was a thriving village.

Ash, bones, and corpses littered the ground in every direction, the 'walls' torn down or burnt down to charcoal in the aftermath of the attack. In the middle of this, in what was once the 'town center', the 1st Legion had made its camp. Undead sat around cleaning their equipment from the battle, looking over 'wounds' they had gotten and, in the case of the Knights, engaging in conversation with one another, boasting, or laughing over something. In a way, it reminded me of the aftermath of the Endbringers, sans the cheer of the Knights.

I did not join them, instead, I sat on a log far away from the Knights and the rest of the Legion, surrounded by my Guards and staring down at a skull I held in my hand. The test had gone somewhat... correctly, and I'd dialed in what level was necessary to power a killing Lunar Strike, efficiency and on the fly effectiveness would come with time and, unfortunately, practice. But…

The skull I held wasn't very big for a Taunka. I only hoped that they had died instantly and painlessly.

Heavy clunks and clangs didn't take my attention from the skull, nor did the words the 'Left Hand' sway me from looking away. "I am impressed, Wraith. Not a single casualty, despite being outnumbered over two to one. A far cry from your 'plan' for the war. It could make one think." If I was still alive maybe this would be a moment when my heart stops, and my breath hitches. But I wasn't so I said nothing as steel dug itself into the ground with a rasping grate, still not looking at him. "We will pack up shortly and retu-"

Hectic hoofbeats cut off the 'Left Hand', in turn causing me to look up and lower the skull. A lesser Knight wheeled its horse in front of us, the rider's voice carrying through the air as all other noise ceased in its wake. "Alliance ships sighted on the horizon to the south! Forty sighted, Captain! Forty-three Horde transports from the west, too!" The 'Left Hand' physically recoiled at the report, as if he wasn't expecting the report or something in it.

"Far too many… How?" I barely heard the muttered words before the Knight Captain pulled his sword from the earth and bellowed to the entire camp without a beat missed. "Knights of Icecrown! I want Gates to En'Kilah now!" The Knights hastened to do the order, breaking off and gathering actual Death magic in their hands before sending it forth, creating a 'Door' made of shadow. "1st Legion through the Gates!"

After going over my own memories of my time on Naxxramas, I had come to a realization. Not only was there an ever so slight difference between Necrotic magic and Death magic, but the Necromancers, true to their title, next to never used death magic. They had come close with their spells oriented around Decay but even then… and now I find a group of Death Knights, people who I doubt would ever cast a single classic fantasy spell, performing an actual portal spell.

Regardless, at his order, each skeleton loaded up everything they had and rushed into the 'Gates', disappearing into them just like the Doors Doormaker had made. Given what I had just heard, I expected them to work almost exactly like his own power, with maybe one or two flavored differences. If I learned how to do it, and learned its limits… I could travel to any of my three bases in an instant. My reach would extend far beyond, and well… I had proven I had quite the grasp last time I had such an opportunity.

That was going to be my absolute next project the moment I had a chance, and I would make one if I had to as that alone would allow me so much more time to do other things.

Focusing back on the skull in my hand, I let Death Magic pool into it, and let it consume the skull. As much as I currently regret what I did, carrying around a skull in my off-hand might send the wrong message. I didn't want the heroes determining me to be an existential threat to the world before I got my side of the story in.

Besides, I only have one real hand at the moment. Speaking of… I grabbed my staff from where it rested against my shoulder and used the leverage it provided to lift myself to my feet, just in time for the 'Left Hand' to face me once more and issue an order. "Raise the slain. We will need them for the coming War."

As much as I wanted to not do as he said, to simply let this site of misery turn into ashes in the wind, whatever had spooked him clearly meant bad news. And unless I had a position to negotiate from I doubt the Living would spare me even a glance before cutting me down.

My staff was raised as the 'Left Hand' stopped talking, and with necrotic magic coursing along its length I slammed it back into the earth, hoping that for once I didn't make intelligent undead. With a boom, accompanied by a visible wave of purplish smoke gushing from me, and guided by my will the energy coursed across the charnel grounds and spread through the ruins, seeking the corpses of innocents and burying into the flesh and bones. Shortly after, the bodies and skeletons rose to their feet, knitting themselves back together piece by piece until they were whole again, weapons at the ready for whatever was to come.

There was a moment of silence before a click made me look back at the 'Left Hand'. "How? What…" He shook his head, "Tch. Too many." He turned to gaze at me, eyes boring into mine. "You are not a fan of subtlety, are you? At least I know that boasting of yours about 'simply resurrecting' our army was based in fact…" That… explained a lot. Now that I thought about it, Gothik had said that most necromancers tended to raise only a limited amount of undead until they reached lich status, and even then…

"Send them Southwest, I will not waste my Knights' time holding Gates for so much fodder." Understandable, honestly, so with a quick glance at the rising overhead sun and a gesture the shambling horde were off southwest. Or at the least, what I could assume was southwest if old Earth outdoor tips held true.

The 'Left Hand' gathered energy into his hands as he took a stance, shadowy black with green and purple hints obscuring them before he seemingly cast a spell as a Gate appeared in front of him. He looked at me and with an internal sigh, I walked up to the shadowy piece of magic, topped with a rather demonic skull glowing with ice-like mist.

Without another thought, I strode through, my Guards following right after me.

The trip was… difficult to describe, in a different way compared to when I went up to and down from the necropolis. It felt… cold, in a way that chilled me to my soul, and something tugged at me for the briefest moment.

And then I was stepping out into the halls of a Necropolis, my Guards and the 'Left Hand' stepping out right behind me. It was almost exactly like Doormaker's power… except for the brief soul-chilling presence and slight walk through. I needed to learn how to do it, and any limitations it had, teleporting vast distances with a few steps was worth any challenge in learning it.

I let the 'Left Hand' lead, falling in step behind him to what I assumed was going to be the war room, given the information we had to deliver, and the changes that almost certainly needed to be done to the plan overall. We passed by Lesser Undead and Vampires alike through the corridors, before eventually, I heard voices carrying into the halls, leading me to believe we were almost back to the 'Wannabe-Kaiser' and his band of yes-men. Wonderful.

With the air of a general returning, the 'Left Hand' strode into the war room heading straight for the main table as the attention of every other person landed on us. Including the resident asshole. "Welcome back Lady Wraith, Captain. We wer-"

"Your information on the invasion is wrong."

The easy-going air around the Prince vanished in an instant, replaced with quiet seriousness and annoyance as he stood straight and locked eyes with the Knight. "I beg your pardon Captain. But my information is the latest from the Cult working in the shipyards and training grounds. The Alliance fleet arriving from Theramore, and Stormwind, only numbers twenty ships, and the Horde are managing only fif-"

The 'Left Hand' slammed a fist on the table, making all but myself and the other Knight, who for all I knew hadn't moved since my last time here, jump from the sudden aggression. "One of my Knights spotted the fleets as they were approaching. Eighty-three ships between the two factions are sailing in as we speak." Muttering broke out between the individuals bearing witness to the 'discussion', I could understand why if I was comprehending what was being said.

The initial plan that they'd been working with had only expected half or less of what was approaching currently, and if they were anything like the Onslaught… that was an issue. There was roughly double the amount of living coming, and whatever else they brought with them, and that meant a massive restructuring of plans needed to happen. The Lesser Undead were not like their Living counterparts, as while far easier to raise, arm, armor, and organize… they had next to no adaptability or independent action. Cells of necromancers led by a Lich would give the move reactionary control over them but often it would just be a single necromancer or Lich in charge.

I shook my head, recalling my rapid tutoring in the War Quarter on Naxxramas. It was horribly inefficient and left their military extremely vulnerable to surgical strikes. A band of, say, five or so would be able to rush in, kill the leaders, and escape long before any actual retaliation could be re-organized. It just meant another thing was added to my list. I needed to run the Onslaught in reactionary drills for what they are expected to do during times of lacking leadership.

And when my focus finally returned to the 'discussion' I found the Prince in the middle of a cold rage, arrogance at the full-front in the process. "-nmable fools can't do a damn thing right! I'll flay their souls the moment I see them and drink of their dying corpses!" … Well then. A moment after his outburst Valanar calmed himself somewhat, a hand covering his face as he growled out a demand. "How do you propose I fix this, Captain?"

The Knight shrugged, mostly annoyed with the question from what I could tell of his tone. "Why bother asking? It is past the time for complicated plans and subterfuge. You do as Wraith suggested and meet them at the Beaches. Their numbers mean little when they can't bring them all to bear." I looked over at him, barely keeping myself from showing any response beyond that at the thought that my plan was the solution to all the problems happening.

It was clear to me that this was my unspoken punishment. The 'Left Hand' caught me doing… something, whether he assumed it was treason or undermining politics who knows, but the message was clear. Make this plan work, or die trying.

Before anything could occur between the two, and by the narrowing of Valanar's eyes and creaking of wood under his other hand it would have been a… shitty time, a different vampire elf ran into the room. Immediately on spotting the 'Left Hand', the Vampire dropped to her knees and uttered out. "My Lord. You have orders to reinforce Angrathar with the 1st Legion."

There was silence as metal creaked to look down at the woman. "And why, am I needed when Kel'Thuzad is already there?" I had to wonder about the importance of 'Angrathar', if it was so highly important that both my boss and another high-ranking member were both called in to defend it. Was it someplace of religious importance, a point that held too much strategic value to let it fall into other hands?

I didn't know, and until I saw it in person, or heard more from someone else, I would just keep on guessing, so I put the thought to the side. More important things took precedent, and there were so many other things I needed to do before that.

My musings almost made me miss the reply, and I focused back on the subject at hand, not wanting to lose track of the conversation and be lost with important matters. "Naxxramas was assaulted by void-corrupted dragons a few days ago during a ritual of some kind. Lich Lord Kel'Thuzad went after the dragons and found nearly every last of our scouting forces slaughtered.."

Attacked during a ritual? A few days ago? Well then, I mused, it seems I found the source of my leash slackening, and why Kel'Thuzad has been too busy to rectify it. It did however put me at ease to know that it wasn't some sort of convoluted test or trial to try and provoke me to dig my own grave. All that being said, and what it meant for me, 'void-corruption' sounded nasty and clearly it was powerful enough to affect dragons, something to watch for I suppose.

The messenger then continued, "He is preparing to besiege Wyrmrest Temple as we speak. At the moment there is only one Aspect residing there. Outriders saw Horde and Alliance ships landing on opposing sides of the region, and he sent a message for you and your fellow Captain to garrison Angrathar in his stead."

"How… How do the living have so many troops?" I finally started to hear something other than aggravation, amusement, or rage in his voice. It doesn't sound like the invasion was just poorly under-rated. It sounded like the invasion was on a scale that should have been foreseen, yet somehow wasn't. Again, I heard him mutter, only because of my close proximity to him. "How is this possible? They couldn't have had the time for all of this…." He then loudly replied to the messenger, "Tell Kel'Thuzad I will head out shortly, I have a few things to finish here first." The Vampire quickly rose to her feet and bolted out of the room, leaving us as the 'Left Hand' turned his attention to the other Knight at the table. "Tzo'zi!" The Knight turned to the 'Left Hand', a drawling voice echoing from under the black metal armor in response.

"Aye, Boss-mon?"

I blinked at the choice of words, before turning back to the conversation, I could wonder about the word choice later with the rest of the issues. "Accompany Wraith for the remainder of this campaign." … Damn it, again with the oversight. "I expect you and your brethren to enjoy working with her."

Tzo'zi shrugged, pushing himself away from the table and standing up… He was about as tall as Lung, but far more lanky and thin… and that was hunched over! What was it with very big creatures here? Beyond the first zombie magi I made, I had seen nothing but human-sized and bigger humanoid creatures. Shaking the thought out of my head, I saw the Knight lift a battleaxe onto his shoulder before coming around the table.

He looked down at me when he planted himself in front of me, and I stared straight back without wavering, a short, echoing chuckle left the helm before he turned to the 'Left Hand' "Tzo'zi think we be gettin along real nice, Wraith. Tzo'zi be getting da bruddas and sistas ready, and then we be goin when ya get down here." I inclined my head for my reply, too busy trying to work out what I had just heard, and getting another chuckle as he passed me by.

… Was that a Jamaican Accent, or did my trip through the Gate mess with something important in my head?

Valanar sputtered, genuinely sputtered at this rapid turn of events. Death Knights were a powerful Greater Undead and losing all of his remaining ones must sting his pride fiercely. Especially because it was me they were being reassigned to. "Captain. I fail to see how giving Wraith the knights granted to me for this campaign will help our cause." He tried reasoning with the 'Left Hand' but either he was oblivious or stupid, as the 'Left Hand' disliked him as much as Valanar disliked me, if not more.

So it came as no surprise, for everyone except Valanar I suppose, when he was immediately rejected. "I fail to see how letting you keep them helps. Your incompetence is only exacerbated by your baseless antagonism. You have failed my King for the last time Valanar, succeed here or die trying." His part said he turned his baleful gaze unto me. "Suffer well, Wraith. May we meet again."

Given the way he said it, I had the suspicion that 'suffer well' was the same thing as 'good luck' to him, and probably the Knights as well, if not more of the Scourge. With that in mind… "Suffer well, Captain."

He gave me a nod before walking away,

I looked over to Valanar to find him rooted in place, seemingly frozen in surprise. Until he caught me looking, that is, then he snapped back into motion and began speaking in some flowery language to the rest of the vampires. All the while he was storming over to me, his gaze never leaving mine.

"Lady Wraith. Do you derive enjoyment over ruining other's plans? If you hadn't been here-" He cut his snarl off, jerking himself back to the war table, now having been updated by aides in the background as the new information filtered in. "Very well, it looks like I am left no choice. Rally all the forces, we shall graciously use the plan Lady Wraith has provided us and rush the Horde filth before they can cobble together their feeble emplacements."

Wait… all the troops? But that would- The shock was clearly on my face as Valanar laughed. Directing what he no doubt thought was a'nasty' sneer towards me he said, "Yes, I mean all. You shall handle the invading Alliance. Between such skilled and lauded individuals like yourself and my Death Knights, I doubt you will find any trouble. If you do well… I'm sure I could rescue you after I'm finished with the Horde rabble."

That- that utter bastard! He was trying to get me killed and wasn't even trying to be subtle about it anymore. And this was the person in charge of the invasion defense? I'm starting to think that he was actually going to let the Living gain foothold on this land if only to make a show of defeating them. I let my fury show on my face, causing Valanar to flinch. "I see. Thank you for your gracious compliments and assurances, Prince Valanar. I best go prepare then."

I turned around, parting the brackish purple fog of Death Magic that had nimbused around me, and marched to the door. My fury was palpable, one of the first true emotions I had felt since my time as an Undead.

I paused at the doorway, my mind made up. "Oh and Valanar? Pray that this 'Horde' kills you. We will be settling our… differences after this."

With my part said, I too strode out of the room.

I met up with Tzo'zi shortly after leaving the Necropolis, and immediately realized something I had overlooked due to focusing on the conversation.

Tzo'zi was obviously not a human. It was one of those things that in hindsight seemed really obvious.

His hands had two long fingers and a thumb, his feet had only two toes, and he was abnormally tall for such a lanky individual. He was hunched over constantly, and he was still taller than me! I'd put him at roughly eight or nine feet tall if I had to guess standing straight up. Which brought up another thing.

I almost thought his helmet had four tusk-like protrusions emerging from it… but then I noticed that the inner two were more ivory-colored than the black metal of the outer. Which, with everything else, made me certain he wasn't human… the problem was I didn't know what he was, especially since my 'conversation' with Kaldorei about races… was cryptic beyond. I'd have to remedy that along with everything else on my plate when I finally had a chance to just relax and recuperate.

Regardless of ponderings, we beat quick feet and met up with Tzo'zi and his band of Knights at the entrance to En'Kilah. They were not the grand sight the 1st Legion had invoked, and I doubted I would see many such sights in the coming days. But, there were still twenty-five Death-infused Knights arrayed on their undead steeds waiting for me to arrive, looking every bit identical to Tzo'zi in armor. Meaning, they nevertheless cast an intimidating sight, but less one of deadly efficiency and effectiveness and more of bloodlust and brutality. I could almost take lessons from it.

Most of them looked like Tzo'zi, if smaller; slouched and lanky, mauls and battleaxes draped around their necks lazily as they waited, while even smaller, straight-backed individuals casually sharpened their axes and swords on the saddle. If I hadn't seen Henrich, in full plate, get thrown around by a single punch I would have been shocked at how casually they carried their weapons. With that said though, they looked just as dangerous as the Knights belonging to the 'Left Hand'; covered in black plate from head to toe, with only icy eyes glowing from beneath their helmet visors.

Striding straight up to them, I was met with a chuckle from Tzo'zi as he looked down from even higher. "Tzo'zi don't wanna spend anotha moment in dis place Wraith. Hop on ol' Jeh'zur and we'll getta move on to ya troops." I looked at him for a moment, debating whether or not I should tell him now that he and his band were my toops. I had a hunch that it might test whatever control was keeping him in line. My hesitation was, however, misinterpreted by Tzo'zi. "Don't worry. He won't bite 'less Tzo'zi tell him ta. Ya guards can ride with me bruddas and sistas."

I nodded, figuring it was best to leave before I told him, and without hesitation, I sent my Guards to clamber onto whatever horse would let them as I walked up to Tzo'zi, whose offered lanky arm lifted and maneuvered me into a position where I could easily seat myself behind him. . He waited for a moment while my Guards found their own person to ride with before he bellowed out a rasping laugh, his steed rearing up as he shouted in glee "Corrupted Blood! Ta Slaughter!" Horses whinged alongside bloodthirsty and raucous cheers, and without delay, we were racing across the snow at a full gallop.

The wind whipped past us with the speed we were going. While I had no idea how fast we were traveling compared to normal - it certainly was not as fast as some of the Movers that I had seen or even some of the Brutes - but it was faster than I thought we would go on horses, I suppose being Undead has its perks.

Unfortunately, the wind wasn't loud enough to prevent me from hearing Tzo'zi, which meant when he asked "Ey mon, where be da rest o' ya troops?" I couldn't pretend I didn't hear him. Right, now to break it to the murder-happy ball of hate and metal I'm current in close proximity to that he has been labeled 'expendable'.

[Confidence]

Thanks, Partner. I sent my own feelings back. If it wasn't one thing it was another, just another hallmark of my life. "Unfortunately, Tzo'zi, you are looking at them. Prince Valanar has decided to wield the entire army, barring your own men, against the Horde's invasion. My men and your Corrupted Blood are it for the Alliance."

In all honesty, his response was remarkably restrained from what I had expected. Namely, he only let out an echoing, guttural growl instead of throwing me off or turning around. "Dat coward be really grindin' Tzo'zi's patience. He tinks just cuz he's in charge he can do whateva he wants? Tzo'zi be tinkin' dat 'is scalp would be a fine addition to Tzo'zi's collection." He tilted his head back to glance at me, "If you wanna o' course, Falric say you be de boss lady, so you de boss lady."

Well, at least I knew the Left Hand's name now. Still, I shook my head. "No, Tzo'zi, I have… more than he realizes at my disposal. But, after we finish here…" I drifted off purposely, Tzo'zi's eye's flared a bit, giving me an indication he understood where I was going with it. "Perhaps a visit afterward, to explain our displeasure, would be prudent."

Tzo'zi chuckled and turned his focus back to the horizon. "Big talk, but Tzo'zi knew he be likin' ya for a reason, mon."

It wasn't something I wanted to dwell on. Now that the consuming rage I had felt was gone, I somewhat regretted saying that to Valanar. Only somewhat. I thought. He did try to get us all killed for petty reasons that I had no involvement in. On one hand, swearing bloody vengeance against the defacto 'General' of the Borean Tundra campaign wasn't the brightest of ideas, especially one so politically connected with nearly the rest of the upper management. However… The Heavy Troops, read: Death Knights, were on my side and he had the dismissal and disapproval of people ranked even higher than him. In fact, it presented an opportunity to me. If I could make it back before he does, and gain access to sensitive documents, I could almost bet he wrote down somewhere about - what I assumed - his plan to let the invading forces land to earn him greater glory.

The only thing better than taking down an organization from within, was the organization actively approving of and unintentionally assisting you in it.

But that brought me to the main issue for now, which was this 'Alliance' invasion. I could make some assumptions about their force makeup. Powerful Elf casters, numerous Human soldiers, Dwarf technological advancements, all mixed together into something likely far more lethal than what the 1st Legion once was. Due to the High-Fantasy stereotyping this world seemed to follow, I had no doubt all their leaders would be capable of superspecies feats of both magic and might.

It was, unfortunately, something I knew I couldn't plan around. No amount of general knowledge of the world would save me here, as trying to figure out what each person could do would be like trying to guess a cape's powers by what gang they were in. And I didn't have prophetic powers… yet. Another thing to watch for I suppose, there had to be at least one Oracle of Delphi in this world.

Despite the rough and speedy pace the situation demanded of us, it was calming nonetheless. Watching the unique terrain, notable only for its novelty, pass by let me organize my thoughts. Obviously, I wasn't going to do as my orders said and kill the invading force. See, they weren't an invading force anymore if they stopped invading.

My troops were nowhere near powerful enough, or specialized enough, to contend against twice their number. And trying to shore that up with my own magical might… My mind flashed back to when I had nearly died during the Harbor assault. The feeling of my strength leaving me, too weak to move as the magic powering my body was no longer present. No, I wouldn't be that weak again. I needed to find a way to carry those blue potions around with me as I had a feeling larger scale-combat was going to fill my future.

I couldn't win by numbers.

I couldn't win with raw power, for now.

Which means I had to win on a psychological level. I had to break the spirit of the Alliance if I was going to save them.

It was fortunate then, that making an entrance was something I was an old hand at.

[Alliance Landing Zone]

It was controlled chaos as I disembarked from the rowboat, men and women dashed from landing craft to one of the numerous box piles to unload the supplies as fast as they could. It was a race against time before he sent his minions to face them, setting up a base camp with fortifications needed to happen before night fell, otherwise they would be overrun so fast it'd make the goblins jealous at the speed. Thankfully with the fleet providing aid, we would hopefully be able to start building defenses that would eventually turn into 'Valiance Keep' before the Scourge could attack us.

We just had to hurry, and hope the Light was with us, or else the Borean campaign was lost before it could even begin.

As I moved through the camp the troops kept at their tasks, the few sentries in place to keep watch nodding to me before they turned back to their watch. I gave them a nod in return before leaving them to their duty. I then moved to check on the supplies that managed to survive that Bronze Dragon's inspections. That was a surprise to see, a welcome one, as it allowed us to find out about the Cultists in our midst and the plagued supplies they tried bringing with them. It turned into a bloody day, but it ended with minimal casualties, and what few we had were given proper send-offs in Kul Tiran fashion.

I didn't know what the Bronze Dragon's machinations were, but it left shortly after it was done inspecting without a word. A pity, such power would have been a welcome reinforcement, but what could I have done to make it stay? It was a Dragon, and even if I had questions, it wasn't like the Bronze was prone to telling 'mortals' what the hell they were doing. I suppose we were lucky the Dragon didn't just blast the ship apart. It made me feel used, but I'd take used but alive over dead any day.

One of my men shouted, my head turning from the crate of ammunition to see a sentry pointing up at the cliff. I squinted my eyes and scowled at the sun getting in the way. "Someone get me a spyglass!" The order was received, and within moments I had the device in my hands and up to my eye looking at what the sentry had spotted.

It was… a robed figure, a Cultist? Long, white hair blowing in the wind as burning purple eyes like a corrupted flame gazed down upon them. Not a mere cultist. I repressed the urge to shiver at the sight of those cold, lifeless eyes, feeling them search my soul before moving on. I had battled the Scourge throughout the Plaguelands, from Andorhal to Light's Hope and into the burning streets of Stratholme, and not a single creature beyond the black soul of Kel'thuzad and Him managed to garner the reaction I tried to hide.

It was one of His minions, there couldn't be anything else it was with its aura and it being here. Which meant I needed to act fast and get rid of it. "Arnold!" The man who saw her snapped a salute, ready for the orders I had for him. "Round up a Paladin, Priest, and a few mages, and take care of our visitor, but if something seems wrong, get the hell out."

I was given a "Yes, sir" before I tuned out the shouting from Arnold as he gathered some men and women to accompany him, pulling the spyglass back to my eye. It… I was pretty sure it was a woman, it didn't have a womanly figure, but I hadn't seen any man with hair that long, even for elves. So with the newly dubbed 'her', I focused on trying to figure out as much as possible in the limited ability I had.

Staff in her hand, obviously a spellcaster of some sort, and likely a necromancer out of the options, maybe a warlock… Missing a hand, meant it was likely a living individual and not an undead, as if undead spellcasters would settle for not being 'perfect' and whole. It was strange to see a caster doing scouting duty… which immediately put me on edge. Something wasn't right about this…

"Thassarian!" The former Scourge looked up from the box he was propped against, the man may not have been as helpful in the unloading department, but he sure as damn well was going to be useful for this. "Start preparing a defensive line, I don-"

The rest of my words were drowned out in the deafening series of roars echoing from the cliff, and I watched in horror as a horde of undead streamed off the cliff, falling multiple stories to crash into the ground. Right in front of Arnold's group. I gave a prayer to the Light as I witnessed the horde of Tauren corpses rise up no worse for wear and smash Arnold aside before they washed over them like a wave, charging straight for the landing zone.

"SCOURGE! GET TO THE FRONT!"

My sword, a gift from the church that had lasted me for thirty years since I became a fully-fledged Paladin of the Light, rang out from its sheath as soldiers rushed past me to get a line ready. Riflemen from Ironforge climbed up the piles of boxes to get shots ready, while Mages and the one Warlock brought along, scrambled to get further back into a secure position of their own. We weren't in the best position, if we had more defenses to funnel them to, where their numbers meant less, we'd be in a much better state. We had thought the cliff would provide a natural defense.

We were wrong.

I had a gut feeling that made me look up, in time to see the streaks of shadow falling from the sky. "TAKE COVER!" My shout was desperate, I didn't know what munitions the Scourge might use but it could be anything from plagued arrows, corpses, to just a big-ass rock. I dodged out of the way with a roll, narrowly avoiding the projectile screaming in at me… others were not as fortunate, impaled by blackened spears that punctured their armor like it was paper. I let out a curse and barked a quick "Hold the Line!" I took my own advice and braced myself as the Scourge sprinted at us. With a prayer to the Light, I gave a greater blessing of empowerment to those around me. While it wasn't much, against the tides of Dead every little bit counts.

Cracks echoed sharply through the air behind me, and I was relieved to see the marksmanship of the Dwarves take down a good number of the Undead rushing us, as fireballs careening overhead scorched the first rank of the dead, giving most of the footmen enough time to form up. Those who were too slow, too far or any other reason were trampled underneath dead hooves as the horde barely even noticed the stragglers, still frothing in their single-minded charge.

A brief whistling echoed through the air before explosions raked through the Undead horde, gouts of blood, chunks of gore, and splinters of bone filled the air from the impact. In typical Scourge fashion they were barely staggered by the barrage, their charge unfaltering. Another round of fire came from the spellcasters and Rifleman, sending even more of the corpses falling to the ground in pieces, but still, they came, their numbers were not thinned enough and in the face of such an onslaught, even the most devout soldier was capable of fear. "Remember your families! Your Sons and Daughters! Your Brothers and Sisters!"

The men and women around me let righteousness coat them in its vengeful radiance at my words, staring at the tide of death with the resolve to carry things through, to the end if necessary. "If we fail here, the Scourge will not stop! They will butcher our people and turn them into mindless weapons!" Another series of cannon shots in the distance sounded, an air of satisfaction settling around me as the prospect of an easy battle showed itself. We would take losses, it was inevitable, but so long as this was all we had to deal with, the campaign would continue unhindered.

Such joy was short-lived.

A wall of dark purple ethereal mist rose in front of the horde of Undead, forcing us all to watch as cannonballs and missile fire rammed straight into it and disintegrated. The shock to morale couldn't be let to settle, instantly I took charge of the situation, and while I couldn't ensure the cannon fire would cease, I could get the men and women on the ground to stop and not waste valuable ammunition and mana. "Hold Fire!" For a good few seconds, the wall stood there menacingly before bursting outward like smoke revealing the dead Tauren again, howling for blood and death, as that same purple smoke billowed from their eyes and mouths.

They were too close, there wasn't time for another organized volley, so I challenged the coming tide of death with defiance. "FOR THE ALLIANCE!" The answering calls from my troops didn't drown out the cries for blood from the Scourge, but it steeled the hearts and minds of them all, and that was all it needed to accomplish.

I had never fought against Tauren, granted, six years ago I had not even known they existed, and it was only three years ago that I'd had the pleasure of working with Archdruid Runetotem in the Sithilus campaign, and actually seen one in person. I had seen a few of them in action, a few hundred had fought against the hordes of Qiraji spilling into the accursed desert, and while this was an entirely different thing, some traits stayed the same.

Such as being living battering rams.

Spears leveled, the Tauren-like creatures, who he could finally determine weren't actually Tauren despite their similar build and looks, impaled themselves straight onto my soldier's wall of steel. And kept going. It was a testament to my soldiers that they stayed true to the tactics that had broken the Scourge in the Western Plaguelands, spears darted in and out of the Undead impaling numerous Scourge, swords and shields smashed bones to dust. And through it all, we backed up steadily towards the water.

Fights against the Scourge ended up being two things, very fast surgical strikes favored by Adventurers, and long, drawn-out battles with massive casualties that armies were cursed with.

Some of my soldiers were slow, weak, or simply unlucky, as even this tried and true tactic wasn't foolproof. Logs bigger than a man's torso crushed people under their bulk, with the lucky ones getting sent flying, meanwhile axes tore people apart with single swings, rending limbs and splattering viscera. Damn it, whatever this Necromancer had done with that purple smoke had made the Undead far stronger than normal. The casualties would be higher, even with the plan in place, the Light could only heal so much, but it was only a matter of time before they fell, their numbers now revealed to not nearly be what was required to guarantee victory. A suicidal charge could be weathered and rebuked, even if it was from Undead. But with the Undead empowered like this… What would be left of the landing force?

A 'Tauren' came rushing at me, spear leveled to impale me on it. I shifted to the side and the spear passed by without effort, slashing the creature's head off in retaliation. Another came charging with twin axes. Locking the blades with my own, I summoned the Light in my hand and with righteousness filling my veins, smashed the Hammer of Wrath straight through its rotting chest, sending it to the ground. But not killing it, I cursed under my breath and was forced to switch targets as another lunged at me.

Step by step we retreated, until at last we were at the point where the Mages and Riflemen had to reposition, this was the moment whe-

A pulse of something filled the air, making me nauseated for a second as hooks dug into my soul nearly causing me to be struck by a mace, thankfully it passed as the Light banished it allowing me to parry the attack. I sliced the corpse in half in retaliation before looking around. Others weren't as lucky as I was, dammit it all! I grit my teeth before calling out "Hold steady! We will not fall this day!" hoping to steel the souls of my troops. My eyes wandered upwards to the cliff where the Necromancer stood, the purple mist pouring off her and down the cliff. I watched as more of the 'Tauren' corpses fell from the cliff-top. It was then I realized this Necromancer wasn't a glory-seeking fool or a distraction brought against us.

Between her unique spells, the unusual empowerment she's gifted her Undead, and sheer power...This was a monster on par with the Four Horsemen of Naxxramas, a being versed in destruction. I had never seen nor heard of Necromancy being wielded like this before with such a vast range and power from only a single mage. Something was wrong.

I was proved right when bolts of lightning came flashing from the cliff, all focused on one area of the line. I heard the agonized screams, and with a bellow, I sent what few reserves we had to reinforce them, just as the Scourge broke through. A call came from one of the Sergeants, and as I watched in dread, the moment they turned and ran to the breach, another two sections of the line broke under the unceasing assault. As another lash of lightning fried screaming men and women in their armor, I made the call and hoped it was the right one.

"RETREAT! REFORM THE LINE FURTHER BACK!"

Covering fire came from behind us as we turned, slowing the Scourge forces back as we retreated further and further into the landing. With the narrow passages formed by the piles of supplies, we could hold them for a while, before they got wise to sending the crates tumbling and overwhelming us. Shots whizzed by and tore the front rank of the Scourge, giving us even more time to set up at a new position away from the Scourge.

It wouldn't last long, not under the leadership of that Necromancer, so I had to come up with a way to get rid of them…

Quickly leaving people in charge of the second line, I ran over to one of the mages as she was preparing another spell, catching her attention with possibly the worst 'name' in this situation, but given the circumstances, I didn't give a damn. "Mage! I need you to get to the Fleet and tell them to focus fire on the cliff. The Necromancer in charge of this attack is up there and directing the Scourge like puppets. If she goes down, we can mop up the rest with ease." She gave a nod and quickly gathered arcane energy into her hands before teleporting to the ships, leaving me with the hell here. Without the covering fire from the cannons the casualties would only mount faster, but having them fire into our supplies was a good way to turn this into a losing victory regardless.

Turning back to the battle, I held back a grimace to see the second line already faltering under the unrelenting onslaught of the 'Tauren' corpses. With only a moment's hesitation, I pulled the forces not committed further back, where the Dwarves and a few Gnomes were setting up one of the newer models of cannons. I didn't understand the thing beyond it shot cannonballs and things died. And by the Light that's all I needed at the moment.

Quickly organizing the line, I saw a familiar face and quickly made my way over to him. "Thassarian!" He looked none the worse from the ordeal, blood smearing his armor and swords the only major difference since I had seen him last. "I need you to hold the left flank, the Cannon may well be the only thing that sees us through." He gave a nod and started to move away before stopping and looking back at me.

"General… That necromancer. They are far too powerful. Something is wrong."

"I know. We need to pull out. Start getting supplies and people back to the ships." He nodded again before rushing off to the flank, while I went to the center, chanting a prayer under my breath to the Light for strength and protection. The second line buckled and broke under the tide of death, and I quickly gave another prayer for their souls to reach the afterlife before readying myself for the Undead horde.

A Hammer of Wrath appeared in my left hand, and with hammer and sword, I smote the Scourge that came at me, at this point, it was a matter of delaying them until the Necromancer was taken care of, or the majority of my remaining forces got out. The landing was now doomed regardless unless the Necromancer was killed here and now, and that was unlikely unless they died in the bombardment or its aftermath.

By the Light, if they were worse, it'd be a miracle if anyone got off this beach alive.

I staggered back after a particularly crushing blow, corpses surrounding me as I fell out of the battle trance. With a yell I sent the Hammer spinning through the air into the 'Tauren' that had landed the first and only blow on me so far, smashing its head apart and dropping the corpse for the moment. Given a short moment, I looked over the battle and grimaced as my thoughts were proven right, my troops barely hanging on, the cannon was silent with spears sticking out of the crew's bodies.

The spiraling descent into despair was stopped momentarily as cannons rang out, and I watched as cannonballs whistled through the air towards the Cliff. I backed away from the encroaching Scourge, bellowing for a retreat as the cliffside erupted in a shower of rock and dust. There was no cheering or jubilant nature, just a grim dedication to getting this done and getting out of here.

The dead kept coming, and soon enough we were pushed back at the rowboats and few landing craft we had, holding the line against an unending tide that wanted to drown us under its weight. We butchered them until the sands ran red, a sign that they were freshly dead, they burned to ash, and the rancid smell choked us, we blasted them into pieces from over-sized guns. They still kept coming.

"General!" I looked to my side to find Thassarian there again, just as the corpse in front of me fell in pieces, a pause in the onslaught, blood staining my blade as exhaustion started to seep in. Even with the Light granting me strength, getting knocked around and constant slaying was a tiring experience, and I was close to my last legs. I motioned for the Death Knight to speak with a tired wave, leaning on my sword to prevent myself from falling to the ground. "They're coming down."

A spyglass found its way to my hand, a small burst of energy letting me straighten and peer through it to the clearing dust cloud… and finding the Necromancer walking down through the air. No… not the air, levitating chunks of earth that acted as a mobile staircase for them were letting the Necromancer walk down as if it were nothing. And… the way they were walking was reminiscent of the one time he'd been to a Noble's gathering, back before the Horde arrived and King Llane and Queen Taria came down the ballroom stairs.

This person… Who were they? And why didn't we have any information on them?

I was about to pull the spyglass down when I noticed the gleaming at their right hand, and my breath caught as I saw the lower arm was pure starlight, something that made no sense for a Scourge to have. The hand was raised into the air and then slashed down.

My only warning was a sudden overhead glare of sunlight.

Immediately I felt the blast, nearly sending me to the sand if I didn't catch my sword and hold myself. Thassarian was in no better position from the blast of whatever it was, both his swords straining to keep him rooted in place. As the blast subsided, dread welled in my heart before I forced myself to look back at the Fleet…

It was a terrible sight, and it put me in a position I had not wanted to be in.

Our seven largest vessels were sinking, or rather, what was left of them were, and another three were barely managing to stay afloat. There couldn't be another bombardment, it would take too long to shift more ships in place, and the crews were already busy rescuing who and what they could. Which meant more bodies for the Scourge to use elsewhere. As much as it was suicide for me and those still here, I had to send the remainder of the Fleet to Dragonblight, where Wyrmbane and the 7th Legion were landing.

Light have mercy on our souls.

"Thassarian." The Death Knight looked at me, not in the slightest bit tired, but I expected no less of an Undead War Machine. "Get to the Fleet, get them to go to Dragonblight, and reinforce Commander Wyrmbane. We will hold them off for as long as possible." The man looked like he was about to argue before I lost my temper and railed on him. "Don't say a Light-damned word! Get to a damn ship, get the Captain to relay orders, and make sure we didn't die for nothing! Those ships need to get out of range!"

He stood there before he inclined his head, unholy energy gathering in his hands before a barded horse came charging out of nowhere, the Death Knight grabbing hold of the reins in an instant as the horse passed and sending them careening into the mist-lined shore. For a moment I stood there, contemplative of the sudden appearance of the mist, but before I could do anything, a hunting horn blew through the air, and I was left startled as something came crashing into the sands. A peal of cruel-sounding laughter coming from the gathering mist, as I dodged backward, hacking the corpse of another 'Tauren' that had suddenly emerged from the thickening mist and sent it back to the ground.

"TAZ'DINGO!"

And before I could register anything more, the warcry of the Trolls sounded through the air, and I was left in a moment of uncaring annoyance. First Scourge, then whatever the hell the horn was, and now Trolls? What was next, a Murloc invasion, or maybe the Burning Legion would darken the skies again? Why not make the Black Dragonflight appear now, that'd be great.

The crunching of something heavy crashing into the sand caused me to look back, and what I saw was not something I honestly expected to see. Granted, I had seen a lot, in these many years, but seeing a tiny sea giant was something I wasn't expecting today. Smiling cruelly down at me, I couldn't bring myself to care anymore and simply pointed my sword at him in the gathering mists.

With a roar of incomprehensible sound, the giant rushed straight at me with an axe raised high

and cruel glee on its horrid face. I ignored its idle noise and darted forward, getting under its guard, what little there was as it swung wildly at my movement, and stabbing my sword straight through its briny flesh. It howled in pain, another wild slash missing me completely as I backed out of range, hate replacing its glee as it raised its axe again and charged straight at me. I gave a prayer and a Hammer of Justice formed above the giant, and with its end, the Hammer crashed straight into its head.

Promptly making the 'giant' explode into sea debris and mist…

For a moment I stared dumbly at the pile of flotsam, before pointedly looking away and ignoring it. After everything else today, what was one more ridiculous thing on top of all that, and it wasn't as if I was going to live long enough to get any answers on what that was, or why Trolls and the Scourge were apparently working together with these creatures.

The sounds of increased battle drowned together into a raucous cacophony as I planted my sword into the sands, my breath heaving as the battle finally started to make itself known more than I could ignore it. Forcing myself to ignore the pain and exhaustion, I called on the Light to heal myself as best as I could with the limited strength I could muster and eased my breathing as the pain melted away. The exhaustion remained, but the Light could not heal such things, as much as many of the Paladins wished it could.

Pulling my sword from the sands, I was about to walk into the mists and the battle beyond when something came flying through the air, only well-honed reflexes managing to keep it from hitting me as I ducked under it. Chancing a look back, I grimaced before looking away and turning back to the direction it came from. The Scourge was known for barbarism, as were the Trolls, but that was an entirely new low that I had seen, and the Jungles of Stranglethorn had many lows.

Creaking metal echoed as the culprit of that crime against the living approached, and I understood one part of what was happening. A giant of a Troll stood in front of me, clad in dark armor with two icy blue eyes boring out with a madness that shook my soul, two axes gripped in his hands, one a small hatchet of Troll origin, something I wasn't expecting to see, and the other a greataxe of Scourge design. I said nothing, I did nothing as the Death Knight slinked forward despite the armor, throwing his arms wide as an aura of bloodlust assaulted me.

"Human. Ya seem like ya be de Boss of these weaklings." I raised my sword but didn't answer, something that the Troll seemed to find amusing if the dark laughter was any indication. "Tzo'zi be enjoying dis. Tzo'zi'll make ya suffa… and if ya manage to live long enough, Tzo'zi be tinking ya worthy of da collection."

"Light. Grant me the strength to slay this abomination."

With my prayer said, I strode forward with purpose, swinging my sword straight at the Troll with a Light-infused strike. A resounding clang echoed through the mist, his axe grinding against my sword as he effortlessly held back the strike. I felt a cut across my chest and disengaged from him, my left hand stemming the flow of blood as I held my sword with a sure hand at the Death Knight.

He kept advancing, slowly and surely, drinking in my pain, offense was not viable, not with him dual-wielding and being proficient in it. And I didn't have near enough strength left to form a Hammer of Wrath, leaving me to remain defensive.

I didn't wait long as the Troll lunged forward, greataxe intent on cleaving my head in two. I blocked the blow and was sent to the ground, my sword shattering under the strength of the Death Knight. Pain blossomed in my chest again, coughing up blood as I was sent skidding across the sand. "Oi. I thought ya were supposed ta be strong. Ya be a Paladin, so ya got ta be strong like da Paladins that went into Zul'Aman to fight me Brudda."

With agony coursing through my body, I forced myself to stand up. Was it pride that forced me to stand, hating the comparison that I was weaker than some no-name adventurers? Was it righteousness, seeking to kill this killing machine even if it cost me everything?

I didn't know, I would never know.

I threw everything I had left into forming a Hammer of Wrath. Light coursed through me, my body a living conduit for it to make its will manifest against the Death Knight in front of me. Crackling roared in my ears as burning replaced the pain, my hand rearing back the forming Hammer as the Death Knight opened its arms wide and let out another laugh. "Yes! Show Tzo'zi ya best! Prove yaself worthy of Tzo'zi's attention!"

I ignored the ramblings, the pain, the world around me, and threw everything I had into the Light. I focused on the Blight in front of me, the epitome of the horrors of the Scourge. I threw the Hammer at him and felt the Light take hold of me.

I closed my eyes and fell.