Siege of Darkness
Prologue
By: Duneczan
LORDAERON, 2 WEEKS AFTER THE FALL OF DALARAN
The land of Lordaeron was a lush land full of life. Now it is a desolate land lorded over by the undead and their demon masters. The once rich farmlands are now covered by the blight; a corruptive evil substance that saps all life from whatever is comes in contact with.
Under command of the death knight, and former prince of Lordaeron, Arthas, the lich Kel'Thuzad, the dreadlord Tichondrius and their warlock master Archimonde, the Scourge and the Burning Legion they serve has decimated the entire kingdom of Lordaeron, and murdered thousands of innocent people. Now, what life is left in this kingdom is sent to labor camps where they toil in dark pits to provide support for their evil overlords. The less fortunate are sent to internment camps, where the demons feast upon human and elven flesh.
With the deaths of their King, Terenas, and the mighty Paladin, Uther the Lightbringer, and the disappearance of the great sorceress Jaina Proudmoore, the remaining populace is disheartened. They have little hope for survival.
Darkness claimed the land as night fell, and a group of Scourge warriors scours the land once more, searching out those last vestiges of Human habitation and resistance. This they found in a small hamlet, with only four homes and a dozen villagers. While the warriors are brutal, they are not very thorough. A single woman and her young son manage to escape their hands. Soon, though, the necromancer in command of the group sees them and orders his minions after them.
The woman runs as fast can while trying desperately to hold on to her child. She can hear the howls of the ghouls behind her, and the yells of their necromancer controllers. Suddenly she slammed into something and fell to the ground, her son falling with her. As the child began to cry, the woman looked up, afraid to see what had stopped them. Lightning flashed in the cloudless sky, illuminating the figure before her. She sighed in relief when she saw a man with a flowing cap, dressed in armor standing before her. Choking back tears, she reached up to him.
"Help us...please." The man looked down at her and nodded the action barely noticeable beneath his hood.
"Get behind me." The woman grabbed her child and did as she as told. The man closed his eyes and raised his hand, aiming it at the oncoming undead. He then began to chant in a strange language, neither arcane nor elvish. His arm began to glow with a blue-silver light. Pulses of energy surged between his fingers as he continued to chant. As the undead hunting party appeared on the horizon, he opened his eyes. They flared green for an instant, revealing a malevolent look on the mans face. A white beam of energy surged from his hand and headed straight towards the ghouls. They didn't stand a chance. The powerful beam ripped them apart, vaporizing the ghouls, necromancers, and even the surrounding trees.
When it was over, the woman looked up, intending to thank her savior. Only the man was now gone and she and her child were alone once more. A few hours later, she was picked up by a group of resistance fighters, to whom she told her tale.
AZEROTH, 2 WEEKS AFTER THE FALL OF DALARAN
Much like the world it was named for, the kingdom of Azeroth has had a troubled existence. Falling into ruin after the Second War between the Humans and the Orcs, the kingdom of Azeroth has gone to great pains to heal its land. Led by the young King Varian, the people of Azeroth had nearly completed their dream. Then the Scourge came and shattered that dream. Once again Azeroth was damned to darkness as the undead legions overran its already overextended defenses. The young king was kidnapped, and his current location is unknown.
Like Lordaeron, Azeroth has a resistance force, but it is not as well equipped. Made up of mainly farmers and militia, the Azeroth Liberation Front continually harasses the smaller Scourge bases and forces and intercepts lightly guarded caravans, freeing any slaves. Unfortunately for the resistance, the Burning Legion has taken an interest in them and, using their many scouts, they have discovered the hidden base of the resistance.
The legion sent an extermination squad to hunt down the resistance and wipe them out. Led by a pit lord, the force of Doom Guards and felhounds swept down upon the resistance with deadly speed. In the middle of attack, the squad was rudely interrupted.
Appearing before them was a man dressed in black robes. At his side hung a sword, in his hand was a long staff topped by a blood red gem. He looked upon the demons and frowned.
"Tsk, tsk. The Burning Legions most powerful warriors, reduced to hunting down a small group of weak fighters. If I weren't disgusted by your kind, I would feel sorry for you." The pit lord stomped the ground with his bladed staff angrily. He glared at the interloper, his eyes full of malice.
"We care not for your pity mortal. You shall soon fall before us, much as these pathetic creatures fell before us."
"Mortal? I left my mortality behind a long time ago demon. And it is you who will fall, not I." He tapped his staff on the ground twice, and two massive creatures appeared from the ground. Resembling the infernals of the Burning Legion, these creatures were ten feet tall and made of fire. Beneath that fire was a black armor, armor that seemed resistant to the fires that raged around it. "I hope you like my pets, because they like you. Killing you, that is."
The two creatures surged forward, striking out at the Legions squad. Try as they might, the demons could not withstand these newcomers. In an act of cowardice, the pit lord began to run. He was stopped in his tracks before he could escape. In front of him was the same man that had summoned the beasts that were now wiping out his troops.
"Fleeing demon? I think not." The man raised his hand and spoke a single word in a language the demon did not know. A twister of white-hot flames formed around the pit lord, incinerating him, melting flesh from bone, turning bone to ash. It was over in mere moments. Tapping his staff on the ground once more, the man unsummoned his helpers and walked off.
The remaining members of the resistance looked on for a moment, then went about clearing out their dead. When they were finished, they packed up and left to find another base, so that they could continue their fight. As they traveled, they spread word of the one who saved them.
QUEL'THALAS, TWO WEEKS AFTER THE FALL OF DALARAN
The High Elven homeland of Quel'Thalas was once considered to be the most beautiful land on the continent. Within their tall homes and wooded villages, the High Elves practiced their magical arts, arts that had once forced them into exile. They did not care that they had been exiled, because their magic was their life, and as long as they could practice it, they were happy.
Forsaking the Alliance after the Second War, the High Elves withdrew to their homeland. While keeping a friendly association with the Alliance, the High Elves kept to themselves. Even when the Scourge came and decimated Lordaeron, the High Elves stayed within their homes. It was not until the death knight invaded their lands that the High Elves acted. Led by their Ranger-General, Sylvanis Windrunner, the High Elves retaliated fiercely, but it was too little, too late. Sylvanis was transformed into a banshee queen by the power of Arthas' runeblade Frostmourne. With their general gone, the High Elves faltered and their capital of Silvermoon fell.
With victory assured, the Scourge gave way to the Burning Legion. Knowing the High Elves to be descended from their ancient enemies, the Night Elves, the demon horde severely punished the High Elves. All surviving elves were forced into internment camps, where they suffered pain beyond comprehension.
This night, the daughter of Sylvanis Windrunner, Lysia, is to be executed. The dreadlord Caltheras will soon find out that this is not to be. Just as the acolyte was about to sever the elven woman's head, something flashed past them and severed the acolyte's own head. Turning to see who had dared interfere, the Dreadlord and his minions were surprised to see no one at all. Then a voice came to them on the wind, out of nowhere.
"Killing a poor, defenseless elf woman? How dare you? You will soon come to know death personally. I suggest you pray to whatever dark god it is you serve." After a moment, hell came to the demons. In a flash of yellow light, two Doom Guards fell dead. An arc of green energy followed, decapitating the three felhounds that were unfortunate enough to be in the way. Soon demons and undead alike began to fall before this mysterious force. With hopes of protecting himself, Caltheras grabbed Lysia and placed her in front of him.
"You wouldn't dare kill me for fear of hurting this elven bit-"
"Watch your tongue dreadlord," a voice said behind him. He turned, but no one was there.
"Stop hiding and fight coward!" He growled.
"I am the coward? You are hiding behind a young girl and you dare to call me a coward!" Caltheras whirled and finally saw who was speaking. She appeared to be a young girl herself, with blue-black hair and slightly pointed ears, revealing an elvish heritage. And, by Human standards, she was extremely attractive.
"You, child, have caused all this? I find that hard to believe." He spun around in a circle, his head held high. "Come out now! If you do not, you will have the blood of two children on your hands!"
"Quit your whining demon, for I am here. The 'child' you think stands before you is far older than you may think." Caltheras turned to face her just in time to see her leap into the air with incredible speed. Pulling an overly large sword from beneath her cape, she struck at him. Both his wings fell to the ground. Caltheras hurled Lysia away from in as he writhed in pain. Then his attacker made the killing blow. As the blade pierced his flesh, Caltheras felt its enchanted powers destroy him from the inside out. Caltheras exploded as holy energy coursed through his veins.
The woman placed the sword back beneath her cape and pulled out a dagger. Walking towards Lysia, she cut the girls restraints.
"Go now, Lysia Windrunner, and help to free your people. Do not let your mothers' death be in vain. You will soon find that the demons and the undead of this camp are all dead, and that those trapped here are ready to be released. Do so, and never stop the fight."
With those final words, the woman vanished without a trace. Lysia stood up and thanked the woman silently. She then ran to break open the prison cells so that her people may fight once more.
ALTERAC RUINS, LORDAERON, THREE HOURS LATER
A lone figure stood on what was once the upper chamber of a ruined citadels guard tower. Looking out over the Lordamere Lake, his keen eyesight could make out the shape of a massive citadel sitting upon the large island at the center of the lake. His armed was bandaged and in a splint. Two more figures joined him.
"What happened to you?" A man's voice asked.
"Like a fool I tried to assault that place out there. On what the locals call Fenris Isle, the demons built a fortress. It is there that what is left of nobility of Lordaeron, Azeroth, and Quel'Thalas, is being held. I thought that it would be easy for me, but I was wrong. That fortress is guarded on all sides by the undead. Within it is a horde of powerful demons. We cannot hope to assault that fortress as we are now. We will need help. Even when our army arrives in two months time, we would be hard pressed to find victory."
"So what do we do now?" Said a woman.
"We travel to Northrend to see if the Scourge forces there are as mistrustful of the demons as rumors say. After that, we go to Kalimdor to seek out the Night Elves and the demigod Cenarius. That is, of course, as long as our mission here is completed."
"It is. I have successfully rescued the Azeroth resistance movement from total annihilation," the man answered.
"And I freed the elven generals' daughter. I watched her free the imprisoned elves and run into the forests before more demons and undead arrived."
"And what of you? Did you discover the state of the Lordaeron resistance?"
"Yes. They are strong and well hidden, but they cannot hold out forever. I give them three months at most. Unless we can light a flame within these people, this world is doomed, and ours will be next. And we cannot allow that."
The other two figures nodded in agreement. As the sun rose over the mountains and light spilled across the land, the three of them vanished.