Before I post this next chapter, I would like to tell you why it is late. I was on a cruise with my family, on a Carnival Legend ship. One of the days, I was in the arcade playing House of the Dead 4. So I'm playing, shooting zombies, playing. It took a little over forty-five minutes and twenty dollars, but I beat the game. Once beat the game I watched the end credits. I turn around, and there are like ten kids watching me while I was playing. At first I thought they believed I was a god, so I told one to go get me a soda. When I didn't I turned and walked away. Okay, I hope you enjoyed the story, now on with the chapter.
Chapter 19
Nessus's lungs burned, fatigue bit at his four legs, but he refused to stop, for the air was ingrained with the foul, corrupt scents of his cousins.
Coming over a hill, he saw them: a part of his fellow centaurs had surrounded a small group of the Horde's forces. Strange, however, was that dozens of centaurs had already fallen. The thirsty ground gorged itself on the blood, the thought made Nessus shutter. But these weren't his cousins, his clan mates, anymore. They were dark, corrupted shells of their former selves. They were attempting to bring the Horde's warriors to Desolace, in some blind gambit for world domination. Nessus grinded his teeth as he strung his bow and plucked an arrow from his quiver. He pulled the elastic wire to his chest and released it. Far away, a centaur fell.
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The sound of battle cries and clanging steel echoed into the night, took hold of the winds so they may travel to distant lands. Taff was fighting as if a demon had taken hold of his body and mind. Eck, who had met the tauren when the Forsaken first joined with the Horde, had never seen such anger burn inside the grey bull. Every swing of his mace and stomp of his hoof maimed the ever-thinning herd of centaurs. Every attack crippled or killed an opponent, there seemed no attempt to merely incapacitate.
Despite this valiant effort, Taff was but one being against a small armada. He received wounds faster than Eck could heal them. It was taking all of Shaak to keep the centaur casters at bay; magical flames burned and battled bolts of thunder that rained down from sky.
It was only when a swarm of arrows descended from the sky that the battle could be won. Bolts found their way to the centaur's head or heart or back or belly. Taff continued his own savage assault, and a sudden burst of fire incinerated the centaur casters.
At last, they lay dead. Exhausted, the trio collapsed to the ground, each drained of their strength and mana.
"Everyone alright?" Taff growled.
"Yes," hissed Eck, standing and leaning on his staff.
Shaak gave a weak grunt. It was rare for him to use such a magnitude of his magic. He had "crashed" and was vulnerably tired; barely able to life his wand.
"Where was that cover fire coming from?" the tauren asked.
"From him," Eck said, forcing himself to enter a battle stance; his wand in his dominant hand and his staff on his left. Taff noticed the lone centaur that was fast approaching.
Tired as he was, Shaak was only able to lift his head. He watched with an open mouth as Taff stood, shakily standing on his hooves, and stirred his hands. Electricity began to cackle over grey fur. Lifting both hands, he released the bolt at the quickly approaching figure.
The centaur dodged to his side, the swirling mass of cackling power dissipated harmlessly in the air.
Exhausted, Taff fell to one knee, but still summoned the bolt of power. Eck now joined in the assault, struggling to release blasts of shadow. Yet each time the centaur gracefully dodged; four hooves moving with perfect evasive rhythm.
"Stop," shouted the centaur, lifting both hands in the air as a sign of peace. "I mean you no harm." To emphasize this he took the battle axe and bow from his back and threw them to the ground. At a slower place, he continued to advance.
Though Eck saw something, perhaps sincerity in the centaur's voice, Taff heard nothing but lies. He forced himself up and blasted the lightning from his pawn, but his muscles gave out and he collapsed to the ground; a large cloud of dust erupting from the ground.
"I mean you no harm," repeated the centaur. "If I did, I could easily have sniped you when you were engaged with my cousins."
"Then what are you doing here?" Eck asked. The undead slowly made his way to the fallen bull and, holding his wand level in his left hand, began a healing spell. It was clear to Shaak he was struggling to keep his wand level.
"We are the rebels that requested assistance from the great Warchief Thrall. You the ambassadors, correct? Other clans have made pacts with the Burning Legion. We require the Horde's assistance, if we are to continue resistance."
Eck lowered his wand slowly, but continued channeling magic. "Our orders are to keep the peace."
"Peace is lost," the centaur said. "There is only war on these planes."
"It is also strange that our superiors would not mention your…race," Eck said suspiciously.
The centaur bowed his head. "Perhaps they feared you and your team would refuse the mission," he said. "My kind do not have a respectable history. But your Warchief has condoned cooperation. If I may reach into my side-pouch and retrieve the letter Sir Thrall sent my superiors."
"Do it," said Eck, "slowly."
The centaur nodded and carefully removed a folded paper from his side. He handed it to the Forsaken, who looked it over with intent eyes. "This is the official emblem of the Horde," he noted. "These all seem official. So either this is an extremely elaborate rouse or you speak the truth. I sense no lies in your voice." Eck straightened his posture and saluted. "I am Special Operations Sub Commander Jonathon Eck. This is Special Operations Commander Taff Wolfhoof and Private Shaak'tilander Sungrass. On behalf of the New Horde, we will aid you and yours."