Khadgar grimaced as another group of bellowing, brown skinned orc warriors came charging out of the portal and smashed into the wearied lines of Horde and Alliance soldiers. It was like living a nightmare, in more ways than one—or perhaps like reliving one. The Archmage sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose against a persistent headache. How many times will I have to close this damn thing?
The armored draenei vindicator (Maraad, Khadgar thought his name was) was redirecting Alliance troops to bolster weak spots in the line. He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders before cutting his blue gaze over to the huge paladin. "You said reinforcements were inbound?"
"They should be here any moment, my friend," Maraad answered as he turned back to the smaller man. A gauntleted hand reached up to absently stroke a ringed tentacle. "It is my understanding that King Varian has rallied a number of veterans and champions. It will, of course, take time to move in supplies and more troops. We will hold until then."
Khadgar inclined his head and the draenei paladin turned away, smoothly resuming directing the chaos immediately around them. The Archmage looked back toward the portal just in time to see it vomit another group of orcs into the fray. Light grant that you're right, paladin.
A large, gloved, and heavy hand whumped into his shoulder in what was meant to be a reassuring gesture. Doing his best not to stagger a bit, Khadgar glanced over to the shaman Thrall, who smiled toothily at him. "He's right. Regardless of race, the people of Azeroth will hold. You'll see." Thrall's ears pricked up and he turned his green face to the sky. "Someone comes, even now."
Khadgar felt hope brush through him tentatively as he followed the shaman's gaze. "There," Thrall called as he raised a hand and pointed toward a patch of distant, magic torn sky. As they watched, several specks began to take shape into winged forms bearing riders. At first he thought it must surely be the force Maraad had spoken of, but as they drew closer on furious wings, Khadgar could see Horde as well as Alliance.
The groups split, and began looping descents to land in waves in the staging areas for their respective factions. Relieved, Khadgar and Thrall turned back to the battle.
The elven death knight who called herself Ashen swept an analytical gaze over the basin holding the Dark Portal. The rear lines and hospital tents began on a high ridge than ran in a rough circle around the basin—or perhaps crater—that held the towering edifice. The roar of the battle reached her in waves, the susurration of rising and falling din punctuated by the rumble of magic discharging in the torn sky. The Alliance and Horde forces had dug in before the portal, and were holding the invasion mostly at bay—though the bustling hospital tents behind her offered testament to the high cost. The lines were sagging and weary, and many of the barricades had been destroyed. The battle was not going well, though she knew it could have easily been worse.
Ashen's glowing, arctic gaze moved from the embattled lines to the foreboding darkness of the portal writing between the pillars, and sighed inwardly. It was the third time in her memory that the portal had opened, and the sight made her insides writhe in dismay. She swept her gaze over the battle lines one last time. The orcs were contained for the moment, but it would take more than Azeroth's defenders were currently doing to break through them, and through the portal in an offensive of their own.
"Lady Ashen, the mages are ready to open their portals." Her second in command, a human death knight named Davinby, gestured to an area a short distance away from the triage tents to a group wearing the robes of the Kirin Tor. Glancing at the mages who'd accompanied her from Stormwind, she nodded permission to proceed. Davinby snapped her a crisp salute and strode away, bellowing in the strident, echoing voice of their kind. Ashen watched as the mages moved into groups and began casting for a moment, then turned her attention to the battlefield. With the reinforcements and supplies that were to come through the portals, the chances of successfully making a push through the Dark Portal would rise dramatically. Ashen checked her gear, then started walking down to the small group she'd been sent to meet.
Maraad and Thrall were readily identifiable as she half strode, half slid down the slope toward the makeshift command area. Her brows drew together for a moment as she eyed the human between them; Khadgar, Archmage and Alliance hero was supposed to be here, but that man wasn't old enough. Rust colored scree scattered around her feet, and she shifted her posture and her feet slid down the slope with it. She reached the bottom in a clatter of settling rocks and puffs of acrid orange dust, then looked over to the group once more.
Now that she was closer, she could feel—and practically see—the magic the human possessed. It was coiled, aware—poised to be unleashed at the slightest provocation; the mage was at full battle field awareness, and he turned as if feeling her gaze. Ashen kicked the last of the rock and dust from her boots and strode toward him. That arcane blue gaze could only belong to one man. It was him, after all.
Ashen remembered meeting the legendary mage years ago, when her assignment for the Alliance military had taken her to Outland. It was rather hard to forget the grumpy, somewhat rude mage sporting a white beard nearly as long as he was tall. It was possible she'd met Khadgar before he'd gone through the portal with Turalyon and his forces, but if she had she couldn't remember; some of her living memories had faded to the point of having a dreamlike quality. She was certain that the mage was much altered since she'd seen him last, though.
Khadgar was unusually tall for a human; it was rare to encounter one that looked down to meet her eyes, even though she was somewhat petite for a night elf. He was watching her approach with wary interest, and something that almost looked like recognition in his vibrant blue eyes. His hair was a rich silver, rather than the white she remembered, and it had probably once been neatly swept back from his forehead. The mage had rugged features, with a strong nose, square jaw and chin. As she flicked a curious gaze over him briefly before meeting his gaze once more, Ashen decided his face wasn't the only thing that was rugged. For a mage, he had a build and bearing remarkably like that of a warrior.
The magic she'd sensed around Khadgar brushed over her as she drew within speaking distance of the command post, and she gave an inward, exasperated sigh. The soft brush of magic was pleasing, and the damned mage was handsome. Death knight or not, she apparently still possessed the weakness shared by most of the elven races—being drawn to magic and its most powerful wielders like moths to a flame.
Perfect.
Khadgar had stopped twitching whenever the sound of rock and earth tearing loose from the slopes into the basin reached him some two days ago. The magic torn skies spit lightning that would stab into the basin's edge and set off a torrent of scree and rubble that was sometimes deafening, even over the din of battle. Once it had even worked to their advantage, as an edge near the portal had given way and peppered the orc invaders with sharp rocks. He'd heard the slide of rock behind him, absently judged it to be a negligible amount, and kept his focus on the portal.
As he was watching yet another wave of orcs push through the writhing magic of the gateway, the hair at the back of his neck lifted. It felt as though something cool had brushed against him for a moment—enough of an oddity in this arid, miserable place to be instantly noticeable. Khadgar resisted the urge to swat at the back of his neck to dislodge the phantom touch as he looked over his shoulder. His gaze met that of an elven woman, who must have also been the source of the tumbling rock he'd heard.
The elf's glowing, icy blue eyes met his unflinchingly as she came gliding toward him. Khadgar blinked in surprise, strongly reminded of Alleria. That she was elven was obvious, but to which of the races she belonged was less so. Khadgar figured her hair was a light blue, though it looked gray in the waning light, and her skin was blueish white. Her coloring was too vibrant to mark her as one of the high elves, and too light to make her a night elf. Taller than a high elf, shorter than a night elf…curvier figure than a night elf…
I'm standing on a battlefield and that's what I notice? Khadgar sighed inwardly as his gaze moved over her face. She was lovely, though there was something about her demeanor that suggested she might as well have been carved from ice. Her features were elegant, and slightly more delicate than those that would've graced a night elf. The only markings she bore about her eyes were a single, long stripe from the outer corner of each eye, in a purplish-blue trail toward her jaw. It bore a striking resemblance to tear tracks, he thought. There was something almost familiar about her, though he was sure he'd have remembered meeting such a striking woman. He certainly would have remembered the feel of the power she radiated.
"Ah, she arrives at last! Lady Ashen, you were in danger of missing the party," Maraad boomed cheerfully as he stepped around Khadgar. The massive draenei extended a hand toward the woman in dark armor, and the mage watched as she clasped his forearm in a warrior's greeting.
"Well met, paladin," Ashen said with a half-smile as he released her. "You manage to retain your shine even in this hellish dust basin, I see."
"Sparkling is tiresome work, but someone has to do it," Maraad answered with mock gravity. He beckoned her closer with a wave of a massive gauntlet. "Enough of that. Come. You know everyone, yes? Perhaps you've not met the mage?"
Khadgar lifted a brow at the paladin, finally tearing his gaze away from the elf with the striking face and haunting voice. "I don't recall having the pleasure," he told her as he eyed Maraad's smirk. He glanced back to find her watching him, and he swallowed. Poor choice of words.
"Khadgar, this is Ashen, lately of the Ebon Blade," Maraad supplied helpfully. "Hero of the Alliance, champion to Varian himself—"
"A death knight," Khadgar said as he blinked in surprise. "I suppose that explains it."
Silence descended, and the archmage became aware that Maraad and Thrall were both staring at him. The death knight arched her brows at him, though she didn't appear offended. "Nice to meet you," she said dryly. "What does it explain?"
"Ah," Khadgar hedged, shifting his weight. "There's an unusual aura about you," he finally answered. She inclined her head, and he released a breath. There's also the almost unnatural beauty and voice that sounds like every kind of imaginable sin, he thought. I could have told her so, if I wanted this to get really awkward…It's official, I spend too much time with books of magic.
"I've heard much about you, Archmage," Ashen told him after a moment, her head titled to one side. Her eyes flicked down him, then back up to his face. "I thought you'd be older," she added. Khadgar gaped at her, and the corner of her mouth twitched upward briefly. That low, slightly echoing voice of hers had been laced with dry amusement.
"I told him he was much improved by the loss of the beard," Thrall laughed. "It's good to see you, Champion."
"You as well, shaman," came the reply. To Khadgar's surprise, they clasped forearms briefly and exchanged nods of respect. Ashen turned to face him, her expression settling into flat impassivity. She came to attention, and saluted him with a fist to her chest, then returned to parade rest.
"Archmage, I bring greetings from His Majesty, King Wrynn. I have been tasked with breaking the line and ensuring your safety through the portal. Reinforcements and supplies are coming through the portals from Stormwind as we speak."
"Your aid will be most welcome," Khadgar told her seriously. "Your focus will be better spent on the field than on my wellbeing, I imagine. I've been assigned a Warden, Cordana Felsong, for that purpose." He glanced around for the Warden, who helpfully unstealthed nearby and bowed to the death knight.
Ashen inclined her head slightly in acknowledgement. "Understood. Warden," she greeted. Her glowing eyes moved back to Khadgar. "My Horde counterpart appears to have similar news about reinforcements." She glanced away, and the others followed her gaze to spot the approach of a massive tauren paladin. "Our preparations will be done within the hour, and I've already ordered the first wave of fresh troops to being relieving our forces at the portal," Ashen finished.
"Very good, Champion. My thanks." Khadgar studied her for a moment before turning to watch the battle raging around the base of the portal. He was dimly aware of Maraad shifting to allow the death knight to step up to the table, and of the tauren joining Thrall. The din of clashing weapons and shouts was a physical presence, pressing against his ears and chest as he took a slow breath. "Now, we wait," he muttered.
"Indeed," Maraad said, levity gone. "That is always the most difficult part."
The hour Ashen had estimated passed in the odd combination of bustle and boredom that she found often accompanied warfare. Davinby came and went to supply updates and relay her orders, as well as to insistently thrust her helm at her until she reluctantly tucked it under one arm. She glowered at the other death knight, who shrugged.
"Highlord's orders, milady," Davinby rasped.
"Tell Darion I said he's an arse," Ashen muttered in discontent. Her second only snorted. It was a long-standing debate well known to the Ebon Blade; Ashen preferred to forgo a helm for the unrestricted field of view, and the Highlord insisted she wear one to keep her skull from being caved in. Her adamant claims that a wider angle of view would prevent anyone from having the opportunity to bash her head in fell on deaf ears. "The vanguard have supplies now?"
"Aye," he answered. "A couple days' worth of rations, bandages and potions on every last blighter."
"Finally," she muttered, before lifting the helm and stuffing it over her head. The sounds of the battle simultaneously magnified and muffled as Ashen settled her helm in place. "Signal the others, Davinby. It's time."
"Milady," the death knight confirmed as he saluted her.
Ashen strode toward the improvised command center where the other officers waited, along with the archmage. Khadgar turned toward her, almost as if he sensed her approach, and shifted to make room for her in the group. She inclined her head in acknowledgement and saluted him briefly.
Khadgar looked back at the portal and absently scrubbed a gloved hand over his chin. "Are you certain about this, Commander?" The bright blue gaze cut back to her as heavy brows drew together in concern. "The odds of a small charge breaking a hole through the line aren't exactly in your favor."
Ashen felt a slight smile twitch across her face, even though Khadgar couldn't see it. "I think you'll find this to be rather effective, Archmage. We're ready. There was a…misunderstanding about the soldiers' kits, but the forces to follow the charge into the portal are prepared. I'll go through with a team of death knights—both Horde and Alliance," she explained with a nod to Thrall and the tauren paladin, who inclined their heads to her in turn, "and create an initial opening the vanguard will widen. Staggering the assault by a few minutes will allow us to clear a staging point on the other side."
There was a moment of silence as Khadgar studied her, rubbing at his jaw absently. "Very well," he rumbled. "We'll do this your way."
Ashen saluted him before drawing one of her blades and moving to signal the other death knights. "Ashen," Khadgar called, halting her. She glanced back at him, and he inclined his head gravely. "Light go with you," he said.
She held his gaze for a long moment. "Light be with us all, Archmage," Ashen finally answered. Turning, she hefted her sword, feeling the draw on her magic as the runes lit in an icy blue. "Ebon Blade! To me!"
Khadgar watched from his position as the elven death knight lifted a sword into the air and ignited the runes etched in the blade. She had a voice designed for the battlefield, he decided as she shouted commands. The death knights peeled away from various points in the staging area, from both Horde and Alliance forces, and folded in behind her as she started toward the portal. By the time the knights were at a run, they'd formed into a wedge, and Khadgar saw the runed blade lift again. A chill shot down his spine as Ashen's voice reached him clearly. "Forward! For Azeroth!" The battle cry was echoed by the other death knights, and taken up by the soldiers holding the invading orcs at bay.
His heart lifted with hope as the blasted crater filled with the roar of heroes determined to protect their home. Khadgar watched as the death knights blurred, one by one, and then nearly vanished from sight altogether as their incorporeal forms sped through the lines and slammed into the orcs pouring through the portal. Suddenly solid, the wedge-shaped line of knights collapsed in from the edges, the center halting as the ends of the line drew even, then crossed inward as they charged. The Iron Horde found themselves caught in the middle, and mercilessly scythed down.
Rather effective, Khadgar marveled to himself as the lines met, formed a column, and vanished into the darkness of the portal. It had been more than 'rather effective.' The space around the portal was suddenly empty, and the Azerothian forces roared in renewed determination, and fell on the stragglers who'd made it to their lines.
The next few minutes were the longest of Khadgar's life. He had agreed to wait a few minutes while the death knights pushed through the portal and bought their forces some room to maneuver. Khadgar stared at the portal along with the Alliance and Horde leaders, tensely counting down, and hoping that the lack of orcs coming through the portal meant the charge had succeeded. It seemed an eternity had passed when Khadgar finally lifted Atiesh and gave the command to charge through the portal.
The archmage ran for the portal, surrounded by the roaring vanguard of a joint expedition he'd somehow landed command of. As the writhing, dark sheet of magic signifying the portal boundary neared, Khadgar suddenly thought of a group of children he'd passed in Stormwind a few weeks before. He'd watched them for a moment, marveling at the innocence of youth, but it was the singing game they'd been playing that came back to him now. One refrain in particular stood out. Same song, second verse! Could be better, but it's gonna be worse! Khadgar thought as the portal swallowed him.