The thanks for beta-reading go to Joe Lawyer.
The thanks for lore advisory and suggesting the omake idea for this one goes to Umodin.
XXXXX
Tyrande was enjoying a moment of relaxation, an occurrence that was entirely too rare due to the many troubles plaguing her people in these trying times. Thus it was all the more important that she make the most of such moments.
"High Priestess, come quick!" One of the temple acolytes shouted at her frantically. "Priestess Luna, she is putting dragon eggs into the moonwell!"
Tyrande just sat there for a moment to let the absurdity of the statement sink in. Given what their last visit had been about, she could guess exactly which dragonflight those eggs came from. For some reason, she was not as surprised as she thought she should be.
Perhaps there had been some merit to Harry's ominous words that she would not have any choice but to get used to Luna. Certainly, her fellow priestess had already shown a remarkable proclivity to ignore both common sense and basic decorum whenever it suited her.
"I will be there shortly." She told the acolyte calmly, which seemed to reassure the young woman.
Once again alone, Tyrande took a deep breath to brace herself before heading out to the temple's main hall.
It was as the acolyte said, Luna was indeed arranging a clutch of dragon eggs around the moonwell. Contrary to her expectations, these were not the black eggs that she had expected she would need to dispose of once the human priestess was gone, but a pale silver that did not correspond to any of the five dragonflights.
She was not alone, however. Harry, Arko'narin and Jessir Moonbow were also there and all of them were wearing very similar suits of arcanite platemail.
Tyrande took a moment to scrutinize the four of them. Every race on Azeroth favored a certain style of armor, particularly for the shoulders.
The kaldorei preferred sleek, lightweight designs with artistic decorations and imagery to either venerate Elune or some aspect of druidism. This often manifested in crescent moon imagery or feathers and such.
The orcs liked big pauldrons to emphasize the already great breadth of their shoulders. And spikes. Orcs really liked spikes.
The dwarves were especially fond of extremely thick plates and sharp angles.
The Forsaken had made the unfortunate decision to adopt death themes, which Tyrande knew was meant to be a means of owning their own undead state, but it also made them rather off-putting for the living.
The humans tended to incorporate family heraldry into their armors, if they had any.
In that way, the armor Harry had made was rather understated. If not for its clearly superior quality, it could almost be called plain. The only obvious nod to vanity were the breastplates on the three women, which was clearly designed to flatter their bust lines, both with the shape of the metal and the subtle decorations that drew attention to it.
Unbeknownst to Tyrande, once Harry had given up on the idea of making a conventional breastplate as unfeasible due to the size of her bust, Luna had requested (read: pouted for) a proper boob plate. Seeing as magic made the defensive downsides of such a design almost completely moot, Harry had put his obsession with optimization to the side and made her breastplate as flattering as possible while still covering everything.
When it was Arko and Jesssir's turn, they were hardly going to settle for anything less, so it was sexy boob plate for everyone.
The rest of the decoration was minimal. Crescent moon clasps for their silvery-white mooncloth cloaks and a light purple gilding on Jessir and Arko's. Silver gilding and her personalized crescent moon clasps for her own light blue mooncloth cloak for Luna. Golden gilding and raven-themed clasps for Harry's black cloak, the nature of the mooncloth giving it a shimmering quality.
It was odd, seeing two of her own people in armor that had such a distinctively not quite human design. It was clear at a glance that the four of them were now an adventuring party, and a formidable one at that.
But just the fact that it wasn't Luna alone on one of her social visits meant that she was probably about to hear yet more headache-inducing news. Not bad news, probably good news even, but definitely troublesome news. The dragon eggs and weapons radiating with Elune's power as good as confirmed it.
"Tyrande, hi!" Luna greeted happily.
"Luna." Tyrande greeted back, then turned to the others. "Harry, Arko'narin, Jessir. What brings you to me?"
"Ah, we're heading off to Silithus and I couldn't leave these dragon eggs unprotected back home." Luna explained, conveniently ignoring how she had skipped past Tyrande's agreement to such a thing.
"Yes, speaking of those dragon eggs, why can I feel Elune's touch on them?" The High Priestess asked pointedly. "They are from Onyxia's clutch, are they not?"
"Oh, well Broll and Varian wanted to just destroy them, but I couldn't let them murder helpless babies, so I took them. I was going to just sing them lullabies until they hatched and then raise them to be nice dragons, but Big Sis thought it would be better to separate them from the Old Gods' corruption completely, so we severed their connection to the earth and made a new one to the moon, making them the Moonlight Dragonflight."
How could the ridiculous human say that as if it was perfectly normal? The other priestesses and acolytes were also whispering to each other in clear shock, but Luna didn't even seem to notice.
"I see." Tyrande decided to not think about it too deeply right now. No matter how absurd the circumstances were, those dragon eggs had been touched by her goddess, so she had little choice but to shelter them. Not that she minded, it would be worth it just to poke Deathwing in the eye. "Was that all?"
"Nope!" Luna chirped. "Varian and Bolvar also offered to build a temple dedicated to Elune in Stormwind as a thank you for protecting Anduin and helping Varian get himself back together. Do you think you could spare a priestess and a few acolytes to look after it? I won't be able to stay there all the time since I'll be going adventuring with Harry, Jessir and Arko."
Tyrande's instincts had been right. They were definitely the bearers of headache-inducing news. She was already dreading the political mess this new temple would be. Luna did not seem to have any inkling as to what a transparent attempt to tie her closer to Stormwind this was. Still, it was also an opportunity to pass on a little of the kaldorei's hard won wisdom on to the reckless, brash and so very young humans.
"I am sure I could arrange that." One of her more eloquent and charismatic priestesses, preferably. "Now if you would not mind answering a question of my own, what are those weapons that Jessir and Arko'narin are carrying? I can sense the touch of the goddess upon them as well."
Harry and Luna both grinned broadly, their eyes full of mischief.
"Don't say it." Jessir warned.
"The thing is…" Harry began with faux solemnity.
"Don't you dare…" Jessir growled.
"We made Jessir a moon bow because she's a Moonbow!" Luna giggled.
The huntress slumped in defeat. "Why do you do this to me?"
"Come on, you have to admit that it's a little funny." Arko teased her friend.
"Easy for you to say, you're not the one that has to suffer through their bad jokes." Jessir sulked.
"Aww, don't be like that!" Luna cooed, grabbing the huntress in a hug and rubbing their cheeks together. "We do it because we care."
Oh. Tyrande realized that the four of them were more than just an adventuring party. Their dynamic was clearly more affectionate and intimate than that. They were in a relationship together…all four of them. Unusual, but if it worked for them…
"Most excellent puns aside, I promised to make them some better gear when we parted ways in Darnassus the last time." Harry interjected, getting the three women to settle down. "Then I got a few ideas and they worked much better than expected. Long story short, we can make holy moonlight weapons now. You want one?"
Tyrande willed herself to push aside the implications of that until she could consider them in private. "I am satisfied with my current weapon, thank you." She then turned to Jessir and Arko." If the goddess deemed you worthy of them, then I am sure you will use them well."
"Thank you, High Priestess." They said humbly.
"They did do pretty well against the demons in Ashenvale." Harry nodded to himself. "That region is clear of demons now, by the way. Once we're done with Ahn'Qiraj, we're going to start working on purging Felwood."
That was excellent news. For the first time in four years, it actually felt as if some kind of progress was being made to heal the world instead of merely struggling to prevent things from getting worse, but she had to voice a concern. "Are you not taking on a little too much? What of your project to restore the Forsaken?"
"The answer is time magic!" Harry grinned broadly. "You might have seen me less than two weeks ago, but it's been almost a year for me. Besides, I haven't had this much fun since I was a teenager."
Mages… Tyrande resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose. I can only hope that he has more wisdom than the Highborne or failing that, that Luna keeps him from doing anything foolish.
XXXXX
A flying cloud mount was not the spectacle it had been in Planetos, but it was still noteworthy enough to draw attention. Harry was just glad it and their fancy gear made them look important enough to be taken directly to Varok Saurfang instead of having to deal with underlings. He and Luna would definitely be one of the most powerful, if not the most powerful, individuals in the Might of Kalimdor and he wasn't anywhere near humble enough to even attempt pretending otherwise.
They had to wait a little while the guard they spoke to relayed the message, but when they were called to their audience with the High Overlord it was to see that he had apparently gathered all the racial commanders together.
Notably, there were only five commanders despite there being eight races in the Horde and Alliance. From what he'd learned the Darkspear trolls and gnomes were likely too few in number to contribute anything of worth to the fight, but the lack of a Forsaken presence was telling. Either they stayed away to avoid the living, to keep tensions low or simply because Sylvanas Windrunner felt that this war wasn't worth her time. No matter which it was, it portended trouble in the future and he was going to have to really step up his efforts to restore them before things could escalate.
Saurfang himself was wrinkly and grey-haired, but his physique and presence were still powerful…the latter weighed down by a heavy sensation of guilt and shame. To be detected passively, those feelings must be very strong. And they were old, old enough to have settled into his bones and plague him constantly. Given his age, it was likely that he had been present for every bit of the shit that the orcs had done since the demons first approached them and obviously wasn't feeling too proud of it.
"You say you are here to join the fight." The aged orc said after the introductions were done. "What are your skills, and where do you feel they would be of most use? And as you are obviously an adventuring party, would you prefer to stay together?"
Harry could appreciate the right-to-business attitude and the pragmatism inherent in the question. Coordinating a joint military effort with so many different traditions and doctrines had to be an incomprehensible logistical nightmare even before taking into account possible grudges. Clearly, Saurfang had decided that instead of trying to get everyone to fight the way he was used to, he was going to just trust people to know what they were good at.
A good attitude to take…as long as the other commanders were competent. Fortunately they seemed to be, which was honestly a bit of a surprise. Usually, every command structure had at least one over-ambitious idiot holding a rank they didn't deserve. Ah, the wonders of a world too dangerous for hollow vainglory or nepotism to be tolerated.
"To answer your last question first, we will be staying as a group when we actually go into the city, but we don't mind being split up for the initial fighting outside."
"I can take the two night elves." The night elven leader, a High Commander Lynore Windstryke, said before he could continue. "Jessir could join the Sentinel archers easily enough and Arko'narin would fit right in with the irregular infantry."
"My job would be to protect the archers?" Arko asked.
Standard night elf combat doctrine. Rely on the archers to do most of the damage while staying mobile and using melee fighters to protect them. In this case, the other races would be providing the bulk of the protection, allowing the archers to attack with impunity. Still, Arko felt more comfortable staying near her friend.
"And the army's flank, yes." Windstryke nodded.
"I can agree to that, then."
"I'm an archmage, probably the most powerful one you will have in this army." Harry declared once that was settled, amusingly getting a mixture of eyerolls and askance looks that probably had more to do with his heavy plate armor than the casual arrogance of his statement. They must deal with a lot of arrogant mages. "I would be of the most use in keeping the skies clear of the qiraji swarms."
That had been the thing that really stuck out at him in Tyrande's report about the enemy subtypes. While the typical warrior was a large biped with pincer hands, often supported by various non-sapient insectoids called the silithid ranging in size from small dogs to gigantic monstrosities, the biggest danger would be from the huge swarms of flyers. If not kept contained, they could, at the minimum, fatally distract the entire force sent against them so that the bigger ones could hack it apart.
Aside from the giant anubisath, they were the ones that had given the night elves the most grief during the first War of Shifting Sands, as the night elves' disdain of arcane magic and technology gave them few tools to counter the swarms.
"I was expecting ye to say we'd need yer magic to take down the big 'uns." The dwarven commander, Duke August Foehammer, snorted. His eyeroll earlier had been the most impressive of the lot.
"I'll help there, too, but keeping the skies clear will be my priority." Harry replied, more amused than offended. He wondered how many arrogant mages they had to deal with for the dwarf to be so exasperated.
There was a hint of true interest in Saurfang's eyes now, where before there had been only business. "We already have plenty of mages assigned to that duty, but it is an important job and a little redundancy never hurt anyone." The old orc said, nodding thoughtfully. "Very well, you will be assigned to keeping the skies clear, as you wished."
It was almost jarring how reasonable and even-tempered this one was in comparison to the Warsong Clan. If he hadn't already known that even the orcs had respectable people among their number, he might have felt the need to rethink his opinion on them.
Harry nodded to Saurfang with a pleased smile and gestured for Luna to step forward.
"Hi!" She chirped. "I'm a priestess of the moon and I could do the most good looking after the people in the thick of the fighting."
"So it is true." Lynore said to herself. No doubt she had noticed the signs and suspected it immediately, but now her suspicions were confirmed.
"A human priestess of Elune?" Highlord Leoric von Zeldig, the human leader, questioned in surprise. "I have never heard of such a thing."
"That's because Big Sis only asked me to be her priestess a couple of months ago." Luna clarified.
"Long story, don't ask." Harry interjected before the baffled looks could turn to questions.
"She is not just any priestess." The night elf commander apparently decided to take his advice and move on, silver eyes narrowing. "Elune's touch is strong on her. She is greatly favored by the goddess."
"The most intense fighting will be done by the Alliance 7th Legion and my Kor'kron." Saurfang said. "A powerful priestess will be most welcome."
"Leave it to me, I'll make sure we all get to go home." Luna said back, giving him a thumbs up and a bright smile.
Saurfang blinked, visibly taken aback by the chipper attitude.
"I admire your conviction, Lady Priestess, but I fear the realities of war will not allow such a favorable outcome." Von Zeldig spoke up. "Many brave warriors will surely give their last breaths in this forsaken desert."
Harry had to raise an eyebrow at the dramatic delivery. Given the slightly exasperated expressions on the faces of the other commanders, this might be the paladin's default speech pattern. Well, there were worse quirks he could have.
"Nuh uh, I'm not letting anyone under my care die." Luna contradicted, unfazed by the attempt to bring her down to reality.
Von Zeldig was visibly nonplussed for a moment, but then a bright grin split his face and he laughed heartily. "Haha! Your faith inspires me, Lady Priestess. Let it not be said that another had more belief in my men than I! We will return home in glory, all of us!"
"Yes!" Luna cheered back.
Arko leaned towards Harry with a concerned look on her face. "Should she really be encouraging him like this?"
"Let them have their fun." Harry smothered a grin, knowing that Luna wasn't one for the grim realities of war.
Although, given the fact that true, non-necromantic resurrection was apparently a well-documented ability of powerful priests and paladins on Azeroth, the chance of everyone making it through this alive was actually not zero. Particularly since Harry had devised a few doodads that would help tilt the odds even further in their favor.
XXXXX
For Arko and Jessir, the first challenge came before the fighting ever began – flipping their sleep schedule. With night elves being the only part of the army that was nocturnal, it only made sense that they would be the ones that had to make the adjustment.
Despite starting on it before coming to Silithus and using temporal magic to make the transition easier, Arko still struggled to open her eyes on the morning when the war was to begin in earnest. There was just something about the moonrise that invigorated all night elves and it was habit to not get up without it that had been ingrained for nearly two thousand years worth of nights.
It didn't help that the bed she found herself sleeping on these days was sinfully comfortable and full of warm bodies. Although…something was missing this time.
Not feeling Luna's soft, feverishly hot skin pressed up against her was what really caused Arko's eyes to crack open. The first thing she saw was the familiar head of golden hair bobbing over Harry's lap.
Oh, that explained why she wasn't being cuddled.
Arko blinked several times as her bleary thoughts slowly cleared and she realized what she was looking at. Harry was sitting up against the headboard of the bed and Luna was pleasuring him with her mouth.
Arousal began replacing sleepiness as she continued to watch. There was just something unidentifiably alluring about watching a priestess of the moon – the most respected social class in night elven society – doing that. Even if Luna was human, she was a priestess highly favored by the goddess and watching her throat bulge around a male member felt kind of scandalous even if she knew that priestesses had lives outside of their public personas.
Not that Luna behaved like any other priestess in public…
"Enjoying the show?" A deep male voice rumbled and Arko glanced up with an instinctive guilty reaction.
Harry's lips were curled into an amused smirk and his emerald eyes were full of amusement. "Well?"
Arko squirmed in a mix of arousal of embarrassment. She knew that there was nothing to feel guilty over. Both Harry and Luna had encouraged her to watch whenever she wanted to, Luna being especially enthusiastic and happily admitting that it was a preference she had as well. It was just hard to be comfortable doing so after she spent centuries denying the urge, even to herself.
But she had never been a coward and wasn't going to just duck her head, even if her cheeks were flushed a deep purple. "Yes."
"Come here." Harry beckoned, making a gesture with his fingers.
Arko bit her lip and glanced over at Jessir, who was still dead to the world, and back to Luna, who appeared completely focused on her efforts. Slowly, she crawled up the bed and up his body until she was pressed against his side.
The heat radiating from his hard muscles was very pleasant and did nothing at all to diminish the heat pooling between her legs, nor did the new perspective on Luna's bobbing head. His arm went around her and squeezed her against him, and then she was kissing him hungrily.
She had only been with two men before Harry and both of them had found her to be too aggressive. Arko had always been considered impatient by night elf standards. She had been told her whole life to slow down.
Perhaps that was why she had become so interested in humans once they showed up. The short-lived species did everything with an urgency that a night elf would find baffling.
Even Harry, immortal and ancient by human standards, put far more vigor into every action than a night elf would find necessary. He easily matched the hunger of her kiss and gave back more, practically assault her mouth with his tongue.
Arko enjoyed this aggression far more than the restrained affections of her own people. She rubbed herself against him and panted when he moved away from her mouth, trailing kisses up her cheek until he reached her ear.
"Luna seems to be getting a bit distracted." He murmured to her quietly. "Why don't you give her a hand?"
Arko looked down and saw that the human priestess had indeed stopped to watch. She still had the tip of Harry's member in her mouth, but her focus was obviously on other things.
Seeing Luna looking up at her from that position sent a shudder of…something through her body, but what did Harry mean when he said to give her a hand?
Her confusion must have been apparent in her body language, because he took hold of the hand she had braced against his pectoral and moved it to the top of Luna's head.
"Make sure she stays focused, won't you?" He purred, nibbling on her ear.
Arko shuddered again and looked down at Luna in a near panic. Surely he couldn't be suggesting…?
But then Luna submissively lowered her moonlight gaze, clearly accepting Arko's authority over her.
The shudder this time was so powerful it robbed her of breath and made her core clench painfully. Almost of its own volition, her hand began to push down on Luna's head, forcing her to take it more and more of Harry's member.
"That's it." He growled into her ear approvingly.
Arko slipped into a lusty daze. Her body was burning with arousal, her core clenched every time she pushed Luna's head down and Harry's encouragements in her ear – both wordless and otherwise – kept her from wondering if she should really be doing this.
"No need to take it easy on her, she can take it." He said and it was like having the restraint on her arm broken.
She hadn't even realized how hard she was working to hold back until she suddenly took a firmer grip on Luna's hair and began forcing her down all the way to the base of his shaft. A short break to let her breathe and then back to having her throat stuffed full.
Harry's grunts of pleasure in her ear just spurred her onward and she became even more forceful. Then he tensed and groaned and she immediately forced Luna all the way down. Seeing the priestess of the moon work her throat around his shaft and hearing her loudly gulp down his semen had Arko grinding herself against him.
Panting and sweaty from desire, Arko had to force herself to let go of Luna. Her body was on fire from lust and she ached with need, but the rational part of her was shocked at what she had just done and taken such pleasure in. That was no way to treat someone favored by the goddess!
Then Luna popped off Harry's member and gave her a bright smile that managed to dispel most of her half-formed worries. "That was fun!"
Fun? The tension left her at the priestess' easygoing attitude. Of course, Luna wouldn't mind. She had been worried over nothing.
"Don't zone out on me now, Arko." Harry's voice interrupted her thoughts. "Come ride me."
His hands maneuvered her over his once more fully erect shaft and she didn't resist. Not only was she still extremely aroused and in need of release, but she also really wanted to wipe the smug look off his face.
"What are you smirking about?" She demanded with a growl, barely choking down a cry of pleasure as his hot, hard shaft filled her.
"I was remembering the lewd look on your face while you were making Luna choke on my cock." He replied gloatingly, somehow getting even smugger.
"Just…hnnnghh!...shut up!" Arko snapped at him in a mixture of embarrassment, pleasure, anger and lust, working her hips on his lap in a downright violent fashion.
His smirk took on a sly mien and she could already the hear the mocking 'make me', so she slammed her mouth over his and forced her tongue as deep down his throat as she could manage.
Instead of trying to force her off, he used his own tongue to engage her in a slippery wrestling contest, his hands busy mauling her breasts. The rough treatment felt better than she wanted to admit.
"Gods, you three are animals." Jessir complained, mumbling halfway into her pillow. "How can you be this energetic so early in the morning?"
Arko had no time to retort to her friend, whom she hadn't even noticed waking up. She was too busy keeping Harry's smart mouth occupied.
"Don't worry, Jessir, you're up next." Luna promised enthusiastically, already crawling over the huntress to 'get her ready'.
"But I want to sleep…"
"No can do, we have to get up soon and there's no better way to start the day than with sex."
This background conversation only served to drive Arko's lust higher. She knew he was getting close again, she could feel it, and the thought of the cascade of orgasms waiting for her when he did was by itself enough to drive her rapidly towards a climax of her own from sheer anticipation.
The tension broke and Arko convulsed in Harry's lap, muffling a scream of pleasure against his lips. Moments later, she felt his hot seed gushing into her and collapsed against him with a soft cry, trembling as the waves of pleasure crashed over her. For a minute, all she could do was pant and tremble against him as her body slowly came down from the orgasmic high she had just experienced.
Arko had never realized how much tension she was carrying around all the time until sex had become a regular part of her life. Come to think of it, she had always been the one to initiate things between Jessir and herself when things got really bad, despite her friend's more outgoing and teasing nature, wasn't she?
"Jessir sounds like she's just about ready for us." Harry murmured into her ear.
Arko looked over at the other two women and saw Luna lying halfway over her friend, one hand pinning both her wrists above her head, the other between her legs and her mouth latched on to a nipple. The way Jessir was rubbing her thighs against Luna's hand and her soft sounds of pleasure really did indicate that she was ready.
She felt her loins stir again as Harry's member, one more fully erect, twitched inside her. Lurid imagery spun through her mind and arousal began to build again.
"Can you…take her from behind?" Arko asked, fantasizing about having her friend's head between her legs, licking up Harry's seed. She was, however, too embarrassed to look him in the eye as she made her request, so she hid her face against his neck.
She could feel his mouth stretching into a wicked grin. "My dear, it would be a genuine pleasure."
XXXXX
Harry stood somewhere close to the exact middle of the Might of Kalimdor, contemplating Varok Saurfang's pre-battle speech.
The old orc was prattling on about how they would win and how dying here today meant dying for their children and their elders and what an honor that was.
What a blatant death wish. It was beyond obvious that Saurfang was hoping to die in this war. In fact, given the state of his soul, he probably went into every battle hoping it would be his last. The only thing keeping him from committing suicide or throwing a fight was his warrior's pride.
He glanced over at Luna, standing head and shoulders above most of the warriors and paladins just in front of her, and really hoped she wasn't going to try to play therapist for Saurfang. He already knew that she definitely wasn't going to let the orc get himself killed.
The speech drew to a close. It was a poorly structured and somewhat rambling speech, as Saurfang was clearly not much of an orator, but he did genuinely believe in the righteousness of the war they were about to fight and was still able to get people fired up because of it.
Although von Zeldig's proclamation that he would stand with him 'until he gasped his last dying breath' was a bit much. What a drama queen.
"Ring the gong!" Saurfang commanded and stepped down from the rock he'd been using as a podium, taking his place near the front lines.
A night elven priestess standing next to the Scarab Gong with the reassembled Scepter of Shifting Sands in her hands nodded her head in his direction and swung the conveniently hammer-shaped implement against the gong. A deep tone echoed out across the desert and, for the magically sensitive among them, the sound of something breaking was felt.
With the groaning of stone on stone, the gates of Ahn'Qiraj opened and the front ranks charged forward, shouting battle cries. The rest soon followed.
Harry would have normally protested the idea of facing the enemy where they had the home field advantage, but it made sense in this case. With the seal broken, the burrowers and flyers among the qiraji would have an entirely too easy time of it getting behind them and attacking them from the rear, since they weren't just mindless bugs, but an actual military force led by a competent general.
Furthermore, the Might of Kalimdor had a limited amount of supplies and even with magic aiding in transportation, their supply lines were still too long, whereas Ahn'Qiraj was self-sufficient. A war of attrition could not be allowed.
Added to all this was the danger of letting C'thun rouse itself any further than it already had. Best make use of the element of surprise from breaking the seal while they had it, which meant conducting the war with maximum aggression.
Fortunately, orcs were good at aggression. By the time Harry made it through the gates, the vanguard was already slaughtering its way through what might have once been an impressive plaza, but was now little more than a crumbling, sand-swept ruin.
The qiraji had been caught unprepared by the lightning strike assault and were falling in droves, a disorganized crowd of bugs trampled by the swiftly advancing line of warriors and paladins. The qiraji warriors, though large and strong, and their silithid pets were unable to do much against such a furious assault.
The numerous screeching flyers swarming at them from the air, though, those could be a problem. The guns of the dwarves and the deadly accurate fire of the night elven archers struck down many, but the swarms were still dangerously large.
"Casters!" Saurfang bellowed, dropping back and letting others take his place at the front.
Harry was kind of impressed by that. Most people with a death wish would rationalize away their desire to stay where the danger was, but the old orc was apparently self-aware enough to avoid that pitfall and place the need to act as a commander first.
He tugged the hood of his black cloak over his head – the shimmer that the mooncloth gave it was a little flashy for his tastes, but it did serve to counter the necromancer vibe that a regular black cloak would give off – and started weaving a Black Hole.
A shield flickered into existence to block the flying insects, then fire, ice, lightning and non-elemental fury flew up from around him as the other mages and shamans on sky-cleaning duty let loose. Gore rained down on them as the fragile insectoid bodies were exploded or simply burst apart under the arcane assault.
The bodies and gore fell upon the shield and slid off, but Harry was still glad for his cloak. Sooner or later, some kind of gunk was bound to land on him and having it in his hair would be…irritating.
His spell complete, the spot in the air that he had been focusing on suddenly warped as an immense attractive force pulled all the nearby flyers into it. Though heavier than what physics should allow in order to fly, they were still too light to resist and hundreds of them got pulled into a densely compact ball. The ones deeper inside were crushed to death, while the ones on the outside of the bug sphere made easy targets for opportunistic area of effect spells.
The giant ball of corpses fell on the shield and slid off it to the sides, fortunately.
"They flee before us!" Von Zeldig reported gleefully from the front line.
And he was right. The remaining warriors were retreating, leaving their non-sapient pets behind as a delaying action. The flyers had largely dispersed after the massive casualties inflicted on them by his Black Hole. Somehow, though, Harry got the feeling that they weren't running due to broken morale. Among the more wasp-like subtypes had been had been vaguely humanoid winged females – qiraji battleguards – that were definitely sapient. A tactical retreat.
"Set up a base camp here!" Saurfang started bellowing again. "Shamans, harden the ground so that they cannot burrow! Mages, create a ward to keep out the flyers. Vanguard, we advance! Give them no time to breathe!"
High on their initial victory, the Might of Kalimdor cheered and obeyed enthusiastically. Harry walked forward unhurriedly, noting with amusement that many of the mages that had sneered at him before the battle – both Kirin Tor and otherwise – were now awkwardly giving him space.
Apparently, they had taken his heavy armor as a sign that he did not trust his magic to protect him. Morons. No death would be quite so ignoble as getting shanked by a weapon with an anti-magic attribute while you were gloating about how impenetrable your magical shield was.
Now if only he could convince Jaina to see things his way…
And speaking of women he would definitely be having sex with in the future, his girls had come through the battle without a scratch. Unsurprising, seeing as nobody really got any serious injuries, but still pleasing.
There was no time to chat, though. Even as all the infrastructure and support personnel moved to take over the plaza, the vanguard of the army was already regrouped and ready to go, so they went.
Resistance was much lighter than what they faced at first, but it was significantly more annoying. The bugs were acting like skirmishers, employing hit and run tactics meant to slow their progress rather than do any real damage. Many of them died doing that, but the qiraji general probably wasn't concerned about losing a few mindless pawns.
The surroundings also changed as they progressed. The plaza at the entry had been crumbling stone and sand, but now the sand was deeper, making it difficult to walk normally. The stone walls also started to have chitin and fleshy membranes crawling up their surfaces, with burrow holes nestled into corners. That was going to be fun.
Then Saurfang ordered a halt and Harry gave into the urge to elbow his way to the front. Although he wasn't supposed to leave his post, his curiosity wouldn't let him miss out on whatever had caught the High Overlord's attention.
It turned out to be a rare subtype of silithid called a sand reaver. A bright orange body hanging low to the ground like a centipede, but with six, thick arachnid-type legs and a segmented tail with large pincers attached to the end. And it was the size of a bus.
"We cannae' all go down there and fight it." Foehammer rumbled, stroking his braided black beard. "Yon beastie will trample through our lines like Ironforge cavalry through troggs."
A fair point. Against something that big and presumably also fast, a big group would only get in its own way. Mobility would serve better than numbers.
"Should we use the siege weapons?" Von Zeldig pondered, stroking his beard.
Said siege weapons were the main thing slowing them down, needing the shamans to harden the sandy ground just to be able to move. Harry wasn't sure if they would be needed, but could appreciate not relying completely on magic for the heavy artillery.
You never knew what you'd come up against after all, and it wasn't as if he hadn't brought plenty of extra gear with him for much the same purpose.
"I doubt they would be able to hit it reliably." The usually silent leader of the tauren contingent, Malagav the Tactician shook his head.
"Volunteers." Saurfang decided, turning to face the army and raising his fancy, skull-themed arcanite battle axe high into the air. "Who will face that creature with me?!"
Still fired up from the steady progress they had been making, many looked eager to step forward.
"Great weapons only!" Lynore Windstryke pre-empted them. "Arrows and daggers will not pierce that monster's hide, nor will shields stop its fangs."
Judging by the way she gripped her own pair of long daggers, this irritated her.
"We will content ourselves with making sure that none of the smaller vermin crawl out of those burrows to trouble you while you fight it." Von Zeldig declared, getting many nods. Jessir gave them a quick look before moving to join the already forming group.
The group that would be taking on the sand reaver had no shortage of volunteers. Harry and Luna were quick to join Sarfang at the front, as did Arko, her Holy Moonlight Greatsword being one of the few weapons present that likely wouldn't have any trouble at all with the thick carapace.
"We need to cripple its mobility." Harry spoke up, seeing that nobody was going to mention what might be the most problematic part of the battle. "As long as it can keep moving as it pleases, we're going to have a hard time stopping it."
"Can your sorcery hold it?" Saurfang asked dubiously. "None of the druids we have with us are powerful enough to summon up roots that could restrain something that big, and any earthquake the shamans could conjure would impede us more than it."
"Perhaps not my sorcery." Harry admitted. That giant sand reaver was no doubt incredibly strong, too strong to make restraining it with magic worth the bother. "But this enchanted arcanite cable I have definitely can."
The orc's eyebrows shot up in surprise as a spool of the aforementioned cable was brought out of hammerspace, then he grinned in understanding when Harry used magic to move it around in a serpentine fashion. The sand reaver was non-sapient, so it would not realize the danger of getting tangled up until it was too late.
"You planned for this?!" Arko asked disbelievingly, her silver eyes glowing incredulously through the vertical slits of her great helm's visor.
The rest of their party seemed more baffled at where he was getting so much arcanite that he could use it so freely, but were professional enough to not ask questions now.
"Not specifically, but you never know when a strong rope will come in handy." And arcanite was such a wonderful material to work with, simultaneously strong and flexible in ways that no other metal he had ever encountered was.
It was part of the reason that he had abandoned any ideas about giving Arko a transparent visor to preserve her vision and settled instead on a single piece great helm. Useful as it would be, the loss of protection from using a transparent material instead of arcanite would be too much to justify.
Plus, getting too clever with the forging and enchanting and inadvertently diluting the conceptual strength of one's work was the mark of an amateur. It was best to have an item do one job well than do three jobs poorly.
That was why the armors had no enchantments meant to keep them clean, giving them an unfortunate look of having been puked on due to the off yellow blood of the bugs.
XXXXX
Of course, getting a bus-sized bug tangled up was easier said than done. It wasn't going to just sit there placidly. Even as they spoke, the creature was staring at them balefully, practically daring them to step into its territory.
Harry wondered if it was a personal pet of the qiraji general, Rajaxx. It was certainly acting like a guard dog, completely oblivious to the fact that its master was sacrificing it to buy time so that he could get his army organized.
Luna offered to play bait, but was immediately shut down by literally everyone. Although the fighting thus far had not been especially difficult, the value of someone with support magic as powerful as hers was incalculable. Saurfang had gone as far as to command two of his Kor'kron to guard her with their lives.
Harry couldn't disagree with that, despite knowing that Luna could defend herself just fine. It made tactical sense to protect the healer and this beastie was a few shades more dangerous than anything they had faced before short of a fully grown basilisk. Without the rooster exploit of course.
Lynore Windstryke ended up winning the dubious honor of baiting the sand reaver.
That was not tactically sound, given that she was one of the army's commanders, but she insisted. Harry knew from the information Tyrande gave him that she was a veteran of the first War of Shifting Sands. Old grudges or feelings of inadequacy?
At least the area was clear of any smaller bugs that might impede her, probably long since conditioned to not wander into the territorial sand reaver's domain. Her greatest enemy would be the sand under her feet, as if would slow her down, but fortunately they had shamans that could use their rapport with the spirits of the earth to harden it for her.
The night elf rogue cautiously made her way down the ancient steps into the sand reaver's territory, while Harry guided the coil of arcanite cable with his magic to follow her like a stealthy snake.
Abruptly, the sand reaver screeched and scuttled forward with a speed that belied its lumbering appearance. Lynore nimbly dashed sideways, banking on the huge bug's inability to make sharp turns. Her night elven agility and long legs served her well, allowing her to stay at its side and dodge any awkward attempt it made to strike her with its tail.
While this was happening, Harry was haphazardly winding the rope over and under and around the sand reaver's stamping legs. It wasn't pretty, but soon the arcanite cable tightened around its body and refused to give.
The sand reaver gave a confused screech at this turn of events and finally took notice of what was going on, but it was too late. Though it tried to attack him now instead of the annoyingly evasive night elf, most of its legs and tail were tangled up and could not move without the arcanite cable digging into its body on the other side.
"It is vulnerable!" Saurfang roared. "Kill it!"
The chosen group roared its eagerness to do just that and charged forward. Axes, mauls and greatswords struck its body mercilessly, hacking at the orange carapace.
Even restrained, the sand reaver was not completely helpless. A couple of legs still had some range of motion and managed to knock people away. No one dared get near its snapping mandibles and its tail writhed wildly in search of someone to grab.
Arko apparently took exception to that and switched her target from its main body to the tail, swinging her Holy Moonlight Greatsword in a massive overhead blow. The blessed blade cut deep into the appendage and the sand reaver shrieked in a mixture of rage and pain, which only spurred her onwards to keep hacking at it until it was cut all the way through.
The butchering of the area's apex predator seemed to draw in other silithid, as the smaller ones began pouring from the burrows or flying in from the skies. Whether their reason was to help the sand reaver, take advantage of its weakness or yet another force of skirmishers sent by Rajaxx to slow them down was irrelevant, the rest of the Might of Kalimdor fell upon them with enthusiasm.
Some thirty minutes later, Harry was untangling the arcanite cable from the sand reaver's horribly mangled carcass, grimacing slightly at the greenish-yellow gore caked all over it. Cleaning that later was going to be fun, he could already tell.
"A good start." Saurfang commented as he approached. "Your preparation spared us a great deal of trouble with that sand reaver."
Harry hummed and nodded in acknowledgement. "I hope you realize that everything thus far has been a delaying action on the part of our enemy? We won't be having it all our own way from here on out."
"I know." The orc said grimly. "The shamans have already used their farsight to scout ahead and seen that General Rajaxx has mustered a formidable defense against us."
That was a peculiar scrying ability the shamans had. Instead of using conventional magic, they asked the spirits of the land to show them distant places. Very useful in the outdoors, not so much otherwise.
"Don't be so sour, Fang." Harry couldn't resist the pun that he had been waiting to use since the moment he heard Saurfang's name. "The Might of Kalimdor is mighty, and I still have plenty of tricks up my sleeve."
Ah, so that was what an orc deadpan looked like. Fascinating.
XXXXX
Normally, an army caught with its pants down would be screwed beyond hope of recovery, barring some kind of miracle. Soldiers would be scattered out of position, half-dressed and perhaps with weapons not on hand. Camp followers and various non-combatants would be mingled everywhere and leaders would be away from their men.
Alas, the qiraji army had no pants.
Literally, their armor and weapons were all natural. That already mitigated a good chunk of the advantage from the element of surprise, but add onto it that the closest thing to civilians they had were worker bugs and that the qiraji had already been on war footing and Harry couldn't say he was surprised that General Rajaxx was able to get his shit together so quickly.
A little annoyed, but not surprised.
It wasn't very far from where they killed the sand reaver that they encountered the main bulk of the qiraji army waiting for them. General Rajaxx was standing imperiously upon a stone platform far to the back of another huge plaza that was largely open except for the occasional bit of fallen stone or such.
The general was another of the basic warrior types, although nearly twice the size of his lesser brethren. He was also, quite clearly, showing off, as he allowed the Might of Kalimdor to assemble before him instead of attacking them before they were ready.
Not that he was confident without reason, as the army of bugs vastly outnumbered theirs even if you counted only the ones on the ground. The flyers blotted out the sky and the incessant buzzing of their wings was obnoxiously loud. Never mind that physics did not allow wings that large to move so quickly. Air resistance was just a suggestion on Azeroth, apparently.
Harry was glad now that he had held back on his countermeasures in the initial scuffle. As many wasps and battleguards as there had been earlier, it paled in comparison to this collection.
Then the huge mass of winged insects settled down, gradually descending somewhere on the fringes of the qiraji army or on the very walls of Ahn'Qiraj, until the buzzing was gone.
"Mortals!" Rajaxx spoke once it was quiet, the common tongue sounding bizarrely clear despite his obviously alien biology. Had to be a magical effect of some kind, which would also explain how he could be heard across such a distance. "Soon you will know the price of your meddling. The master is nearly whole… And when he rises, your world will cease!"
Well, that was ominous. Good thing that the qiraji got impatient and started wiggling out of their prison instead of safely waiting in secrecy for C'thun to fully awaken. If they had done that, then it might have been too late by the time anyone figured out that something was wrong. Or was it their wiggling that woke C'thun up in the first place? Did the Old God need something from the outside before it could get free of its prison?
If Harry were the one leading this army, he could have engaged in some customary pre-battle trash talk himself, but Saurfang had no magical augmentation for his voice, so he just gave the signal for the artillery teams to open fire.
Orcish catapults and dwarven cannons fired off their loads, killing dozens of qiraji. A deafening screech came from the horde of bugs and the battle was on. The front lines of qiraji warriors, flanked by their non-sapient kin, charged forward to smash into the front line of warriors and paladins. The flyers took to the air again, their buzzing nearly overwhelming the din of battle.
Harry had started bringing one of his countermeasures out of hammerspace the moment Saurfang ordered the artillery to fire. It had the basic shape of a porch light, but a closer look would reveal that instead of a light bulb or candle, an ominously dark crystal floated within. It was thrown over the heads of the frontliners, where it levitated serenely.
Before the first 'lantern' had even settled into place, Harry threw more of them up into the air, simple spells guiding them into place until they floated over the whole army in a hexagonally patterned dome that hovered just over the barrier erected by the Kirin Tor. Some people questioned what they were, but most were too busy fighting or preparing to fight to care.
Not the Kirin Tor mages charged with keeping up the barrier, though.
"What is the use of those?" One particularly mouthy specimen sneered at him. He had been one of those to scoff at his armor when Saurfang introduced them and had consistently tried to puff himself up ever since being shown up in the initial scuffle.
Harry suspected it had something to do with the dark-haired young mage, whose Kirin Tor robes did nothing to hide her impressively large tatas, winking at him and him winking back.
Ah, women, forever the cause of conflict between men. Can a man be considered truly free if he allows himself to be driven by his lust for big boobies? Are perky nipples and bouncy softness truly worth inviting such strife into your life? Is it not better to rise above your base nature and only return to the boobies once you have learned to separate yourself from the impulses of your flesh?
A philosophical discussion that Harry would have loved to engage in with his sexually insecure junior, if only to mess with his head. Alas, the middle of a battle was no place for such things.
"Watch and learn, youngin'." He quipped instead, tensely waiting for the insectoids to reach his creations.
The giant wasp-things beelined towards them like the instinctual creatures they were, drawn to the siren song the crystal was emanating. The second that they got within a few meters of it, though, they spasmed and screeched, shuddering and falling to the ground as the crystal sucked out their life force.
Watching hundreds, and then thousands more follow suit, Harry smiled. He was going to have so much life force stocked up once this was over.
XXXXX
Jessir only allowed herself to be briefly distracted by the rain of corpses falling down on the shield erected by the Kirin Tor mages. Originally, it had been meant to protect them from the flying swarms, but Harry had his own ideas about that.
He had been blunt and honest with them about what those lanterns were. Necromancy, specifically tuned to call the wasp-like silithid flyers to them like moths to the flame, before proceeding to rip the life out of them. A repugnant magic, but Harry was unapologetic in his use of it.
Well, he had warned them that he would do things they weren't comfortable with and seeing as Luna could still draw freely on Elune's power, it was obvious that the Moon Goddess – while probably not approving – was at least willing to tolerate it.
Luna's absolute faith that her husband could be trusted to wield such dark magics without falling to evil was rather humbling and it made Jessir feel ashamed of her own skepticism. Harry had only ever helped her and Arko and deserved the benefit of the doubt.
It was hard to look past conventional kaldorei wisdom which stated that all usage of arcane magic was dangerous, never mind the darker arts, but Jessir was starting to wonder if her people hadn't taken their fear of it a bit too far. Harry was no doubt an extreme outlier, but a lack of sorcerers certainly hadn't spared the orcs from the Burning Legion's attention. She'd never really given it much doubt until a very peculiar priestess of the moon and a mage who freely used the darker arts had helped her save her friend, but maybe it was just certain types of people that drew demons to them rather than the skills they used.
It was due to those thoughts that Jessir had tentatively agreed to learn a bit of magic from her new lover. She had no intention of giving up the bow or becoming a true mage. Learning a few tricks to improve her archery, though, that she could do.
There hadn't been much time to learn anything particularly impressive just yet, but Harry had commented on her natural affinity for the magical arts, an affinity that most night elves shared in some manner.
The first trick was very simple, just a small spell to help the arrow go where she wanted it to go. Usually unnecessary, as her own skill would be enough to insure accuracy, but her target this time was far.
Jessir dipped the now enchanted arrow into an innocuous looking pouch on her hip. The arrowhead came out covered in a thick, sticky substance that clung to it lick a tick.
The Sentinels around her were giving her odd and disapproving looks for ignoring the order to loose arrows, which was a little embarrassing, but she was only here for the positioning rather than to add to the arrow rain falling on the enemy. Harry had given her a secret set of instructions that were far more important than acting as part of a unit.
Nocking the arrow and taking aim, Jessir took a deep breath and loosed it, focusing all of her being on the need to strike true. Her target was far and the Holy Moonlight Greatbow was still new to her, but the enchantments and blessings woven into it in addition to the accuracy spell more than offset those problems.
The arrow flew across the battlefield at immense speed, soaring over the heads of the qiraji warriors, but just below the flyers. It traveled hundreds of meters, farther than any arrow she could have hoped to shoot from her old bow, and lodged itself right into General Rajaxx's neck.
Rajaxx choked in surprise in the middle of giving out orders, wounded but far from dead. That lasted for only a second before the substance on the arrowhead reacted with the qiraji blood and exploded.
Back among the Might of Kalimdor, Jessir's lips curled into a satisfied smile when she saw the qiraji general's head fly off in a fountain of gore. She had been a bit dubious about how workable Harry's idea to conduct in-battle assassination would be, but his skill in alchemy had once again proven up to the task.
With their commander so unexpectedly slain, the forces of the enemy were thrown into chaos. Rajaxx's captains did their best to regain control once they got over their own shock, but the formerly organized army of bugs still began to fracture into multiple isolated pockets.
Jessir drew another arrow from her quiver and whispered another accuracy enchantment, this time aiming for one of the captains.
XXXXX
Harry had taken to hovering over the army on his Nimbus Cloud, smiling as he saw the qiraji army fall apart. The Might of Kalimdor was still ludicrously outnumbered, but they were winning. How convenient that night elves were the tallest race present, aside from the tauren, allowing their archers to see what they were shooting at. Jessir was using the opportunity to snipe at any bug that looked like it was giving orders, sowing even more chaos.
He could see Luna looking after the spear tip of their army, the 7th Legion and the Kor'kron, healing, shielding and sometimes yanking back an orc that was close to losing himself in a blood rage. Even from this distance he could feel the powerful energizing aura she was emitting, continuously refreshing the bodies and minds of those fighting near her. Morale was high, the faith of the paladins remained unshakable and the stamina of the warriors inexhaustible.
A short distance away from the most intense fighting, Arko was piling up her own mountain of qiraji bodies. She had also apparently learned to trust in her armor to take hits, as she was no longer trying to parry or dodge every blow. While not an advisable strategy for everything they would face, these mere bugs could not hope to overcome the protective strength of the spellforged arcanite plate.
Harry was just about to try out a new spell when a shriek from above distracted him. The dying wasp-things had been making a lot of noise the whole time as they died, but this sounded…bigger.
That was about all he had time to think of before a truly enormous specimen of a silithid wasp crashed through his screen of life-draining lanterns, then it forced its way past the barrier of the Kirin Tor and headed right for him.
It was gaudy as hell, with bright orange wings, yellow limbs and a dark purple body. It was also about five times his size, if not more. No wonder it got through the lanterns and the barrier, it was simply too powerful to be overly affected by either.
Harry did what any sensible wizard would do when faced with a wasp the size of a tank, he tried to kill it with fire. The thick plume of red-hot flame engulfed the insect and singed its delicate-looking wings, but failed to really stop it due to its innate magic resistance.
Its spear-like stinger jabbed forward and struck him in the gut. That would have probably been fatal if he wasn't wearing his armor. As it was, Harry only grunted at the minor impact that got through to his body, barely even needing to brace himself.
Before the oversized insect menace could recover from its own attack and use its scything forelimbs, Harry reached forward to grab it and channeled a huge amount of electrical energy through it.
The giant wasp convulsed under the shocking assault, even its magic resistance failing to protect it. Not willing to take any chances after it had survived a flamethrower to the face, he kept upping the intensity until it exploded.
Harry turned his head away with a grimace of disgust, eyes closed and mouth tightly shut. A quick spell scoured the gore off his skin, but he just knew that he wouldn't feel clean again until he could dunk his head underwater. Possibly boiling hot water.
Maybe a helmet wouldn't be such a bad idea… Even though he hated the things and had no plans to engage in melee, incidents like this were an annoying reminder that the enemy wouldn't care what his plans were.
Taking a flask of bottled Void out of his cloak's multiple pockets (because some things you simply didn't want to carry around in your soul), Harry prepared to vent his displeasure on the qiraji.
After unstoppering it, he swung the flask in an arc, leaving a streak of Dark in the air that he began shaping with his magic.
Light and Dark were vastly more abundant in this universe than he was used to, but they were also more…tame. More directed. He could tell that there were things living in them, no doubt spawned from the abundance just as the Wild Gods had been spawned from the abundant life energy of Azeroth.
That was what made the Light and Void so much more easily accessible for those with faith, the belief resonated with the values, goals, mindsets and personalities of those beings and naturally drew either Light or Void to the faithful in question.
That didn't mean, however, that it was impossible to draw on those forces with raw skill and willpower. Harder, but not impossible.
Instead of using the Void like a shadow priest would, Harry merely used it to power the spell he was weaving around it. After all, the assault on Ahn'Qiraj had only begun and it wouldn't do to exhaust all his strength before they even got into the temple housing C'thun.
"Penumbral Harvest." He whispered, because lately he was finally getting the chance to use all the ultra-destructive spells that had been inspired by Warhammer Fantasy and by thunder he wasn't going to miss out on using them just because he was scared of drawing the attention of something from a different branch of Creation.
The blade of Dark scythed out, striking the part of the battle that looked like it was giving the Might of Kalimdor the most trouble. It struck a few meters in front of the combat line, bisecting a single qiraji warrior.
But then it grew larger from the kill and traveled onwards, cutting an ever wider swath through the hordes of bugs. By the time it reached the back lines of the enemy, it was nearly two dozen meters across and had left a cone shaped path of bisected corpses behind.
It only stopped when it hit the legs of one of the anubisath and failed to do any serious harm to it. It, did, however get its attention and caused all of the anubisath that Rajaxx had been holding in reserve to start advancing. They had just been standing there without his order and none of his captains had the initiative to take overall command of the army.
Especially not with Jessir assassinating any of them that she could spot.
"Siege weapons at the ready!" Saurfang bellowed when he saw the obsidian giants advancing.
Harry had of course noted the blatant Egyptian overtones of the jackal-headed anubisath and the four-legged, cat-like obsidian destroyers, but had long since abandoned all efforts to figure out in which direction the trans-dimensional cultural influence was moving in. There were more productive uses for one's time than pondering whether the chicken or the egg came first.
Like making counter-measures. Those things might have given the night elves a lot of grief the last time, but Harry had had more than enough time to figure out how to destroy a bunch of slow-moving giants.
A circular device was brought out of hammerspace and thrown towards the nearest anubisath like a frisbee. Once it got close enough it flipped and latched on to its chest. A moment later, it exploded like a shaped charge, directing all the force into a small portion of the anubisath's chest. Resilient as it was, that much focused power was too much even for the obsidian giant, and it toppled over with its chest blasted open.
The qiraji had been disengaging from the front lines to allow the living siege weapons to take over the vanguard, but Harry's quick disposal of one after another threw them into further chaos. The Might of Kalimdor roared and advanced upon their discouraged enemies, discipline breaking down in spite of the best efforts of the commanders to keep them in line.
The perils of doing too well. The extremely mixed composition of the army also worked against it
That was when things when sideways. Harry threw one of his explosive charges at an unusually large obsidian destroyer, expecting the winged sphinx-thing to get destroyed just as easily as the others, but nothing happened. The magical explosive just fell over like it was nothing more than a circular piece of tin.
Harry could not believe it was just a dud – his own certainty about his craft aside, magic wasn't prone to mechanical failure – so he threw another. Same result.
Now getting a dire suspicion, he threw a basic fireball at it. Too weak to do any actual damage, especially to something that big. Even so, it should still have exploded against the creature's head. Instead of that, the fireball looked like it got sucked into a vacuum cleaner.
Not good. The Achilles heel of the enemy thus far had been magic, but apparently they did have a countermeasure of their own.
"Magic absorption!" Harry bellowed, enhancing his voice with magic to make sure he was heard, forgetting that he was not in command due to urgency. "Siege weapons focus on the big obsidian destroyer! Mages keep your spells away from it!"
The qiraji, finally seeing something going their way, rallied and formed up around the new threat. Worse, with a good chunk of the Might of Kalimdor having gotten carried away, there was no longer a neat defensive line preventing the still massive army of bugs from making full use of their superior numbers.
They could all hear the renewed confidence in their screeching, skittering language. Previously, it had bordered on panic, but now it turned into a chant, just one word,
"Moam! Moam!" The qiraji warriors shouted, cheering on their champion. A name?
Saurfang and the sub-commanders raced to restore order, but the obsidian destroyer was already advancing and it was moving too fast for the siege weapons to get a proper bead on it..
Harry experienced an unusual feeling of powerlessness. Any active magic he used on or near that thing would just get absorbed, at best doing nothing and at worst making it stronger. He couldn't use the cable trick that they had used with the sand reaver, because that also required active magic to move it around. Even the divine magic Luna was channeling seemed to be affected.
Much as they had feared would happen if they went up against the sand reaver with typical infantry tactics, the obsidian destroyer plowed straight through the lines and forced the Might of Kalimdor to scatter. An unlucky few got trampled under its feet.
Clenching his jaw in frustration, Harry turned his attention to the rest of the battle. He didn't have the luxury of finding a workaround or limit to that magic absorption, if there even was such a thing, and that thing looked like it could tank a lot of physical force. With the battle still ongoing, he just didn't have time to play with it. Someone else would have to handle that threat while he focused on keeping the rest of the army from being overwhelmed, a task that had just become significantly harder now that the Kirin Tor had been forced to retreat to keep their barrier from coming into contact with Moam.
XXXXX
Arko had been having a relatively easy time of it. The irregular infantry turned out to be a hodgepodge of adventurers and volunteers that had joined the Might of Kalimdor for whatever reason. Due to their decidedly non-uniform gear, training and skills, they couldn't be trusted to hold the center, so they were relegated to guarding the flank. Still an important job, but one that required less discipline.
She was by far the best equipped of the lot and had drawn many a curious eye or covetous glance before the fighting started. Once the fighting did start, she found herself outperforming her comrades by a significant margin.
It was odd, to say the least. Arko had always considered herself a competent but not exceptional warrior, yet now she was easily making corpses of any qiraji that came near her. It wasn't even hard. Her armor and weapon both absorbed so much of the force from her enemy's blows that she rarely had to struggle to keep balance and the Holy Moonlight Greatsword's blade could cleave through the chitinous armor of her enemies like it was melted cheese.
Little wonder why Harry insisted she should practice with a wooden replica. It would be all too easy to begin relying on her gear for everything. Plus, sparring with him was actually kind of fun. He was rusty, but obviously had at least some skill with a sword, so the practice helped both of them.
In lieu of an actual challenge, Arko began trying to put into practice Luna's teachings on channeling the power of moonlight to complement her swordplay.
The idea of becoming a paladin had taken firm hold in her, and not just as a way to honor her deceased friend. Over the years that they had known each other, Trey had spoken to her and Jessir plenty of times about the Holy Light and his faith in it. He was never preachy about it and they did ask, but it was something that never really resonated with Arko. It was just too…nebulous.
Elune was where she put her faith. However much of the Holy Light's ideals aligned with those of the Moon Goddess, she could never believe in anything else.
The idea of becoming a paladin of Elune, though, that was intriguing. With Lady Tyrande both High Priestess and commander of the kaldorei military, none of her people had ever considered a more martial direction for the Sisterhood of Elune. What would be the point?
But then, the Church of Holy Light hadn't really seen the need for an order of paladins until the orcs came through the Dark Portal either. With demons and undead and who knew what else threatening Azeroth these days, maybe it was time to enforce the teachings of Elune a bit more aggressively? Just as the moon had a dark side, the Moon Goddess also had a wrathful aspect to her that allowed her priestesses and some druids to cast offensive spells. It should be well within the realm of possibility for her to do something similar in a more martial manner.
Easier said than done, though. There was a good reason why Arko had never considered becoming a priestess of the moon herself. She had faith in her goddess and could feel her presence when the White Lady glowed in the night sky just like any true night elf, but that was a far cry from knowing how to open herself up as a channel for the divine power and shaping it. Innate racial affinity or not, she had always been too direct and impatient for anything even vaguely mystical. Becoming a conduit for Elune's wrath was something altogether different than throwing her own anger at the enemy.
Luna was teaching her how to meditate and focus even while she was fighting, but it was slow going. Certainly, she hadn't managed to achieve anything while killing these disgusting qiraji.
At least they made a good target for her frustration at the failure.
Arko had almost been lulled into complacency by the sheer routine of killing the bug men as, despite their vast numbers, they weren't really being pressed too hard. There was only so much room after all, and the sorcerers in the Might of Kalimdor were doing an excellent job of taking the edge off whenever the press got too much.
But things started to go bad when the magc-absorbing obsidian destroyer that the qiraji were calling 'Moam' showed up. Arko was not in the immediate path of its rampage, but still ended up jostled as the vanguard of their army scattered to avoid its stamping feet.
They were being pushed back and the opening given by Moam was being exploited by the qiraji to the fullest of their diminished ability since Jessir had assassinated several of their commanders.
Arko suddenly felt a strange calm settle over her. She could stand back and keep doing the job she had been assigned and no one would blame her for it. The siege weapons were there specifically to deal with problems like this. It would be reckless to run in there and play the hero.
But she hadn't been so eager to join up with Harry and Luna because she was content to stay mediocre, or to be a coward when it counted. The unexpected romantic twist to things aside, she had wanted to join them because she wanted to become something more.
And it had worked. Elune herself had aided in the forging of the Holy Moonlight Greatsword that she now wielded, an honor that she couldn't disgrace by hanging back and letting others be hurt when she knew she could do something.
Arko sprang forward, cutting down several qiraji that tried to jump her once she was away from her comrades. Said comrades shouted at her to get back, but she ignored them.
"Elune, help me." She whispered to herself, because she knew that she couldn't do this alone.
Even if the blows of the qiraji couldn't get through her armor, she could still be overwhelmed. Harry had warned her that no defense was perfect and to not fall into the trap of feeling invincible. Plus, even if they couldn't kill her, they could restrain her and she'd already had a taste of what being held captive by evil was like. With qiraji on every side and silithid wasps swarming her as soon as she left the protective barrier of the Kirin Tor and Harry's lanters, she was in serious danger.
There was no room for doubt. Elune hadn't abandoned her to torture, death and likely worse in the Shadow Hold and Arko had faith that she wouldn't abandon her here either. The Moon Goddess did not turn her back on anyone.
A shield of shimmering moonlight sprang into existence around Arko, forcing aside her foes, but she had no time to marvel at her achievement. She continued sprinting forward, trusting in the moonlight barrier to protect her. With the wasps unable to block her vision and the qiraji warriors pushed aside when she plowed into them, the path to Moam was clear.
The obsidian destroyer was still rampaging through the front lines, injuring both friend and foe. Its movements were too erratic for the siege weapons to reliably hit and any especially bold warriors that managed to strike its legs didn't have weapons powerful enough to seriously injure it.
Arko ran at it with a fierce battle cry, remembering how they had handled the giant sand reaver earlier. An enemy that couldn't move was already as good as defeated, so she went for its front legs. The protective moonlight barrier winked out as soon as she came within range of its magic-absorbing hide, but it didn't matter. She didn't need it anymore.
Moam saw her coming and tried to stamp down, but she swung the Holy Moonlight Greatsword at its approaching leg and cleaved right through it.
Not daring to stop since she was now under the roaring and collapsing monstrosity, Arko kept running forward and cleaved through its other front leg on her way out, causing it to fall forward with a thunderous crash.
Now immobile, Moam was quickly buried under a barrage of dwarven cannon balls and shamanistically enhanced boulders from the orcish catapults.
With their champion fallen, the tide of battle turned again and Arko joined in with enthusiasm, still riding on the high of what she had just done. She failed to call on Elune's power again, but that no longer frustrated her like it did before. She would master it eventually. Until then, the goddess would be there when she was truly needed.
XXXXX
Luna looked sadly at the rows of dead. After Moam fell, the battle had become entirely straightforward. The qiraji refused to rout despite the horrendous losses they were taking, likely more afraid of their masters than death in battle, now the field was piled with mountains of insect corpses, with this small corner reserved for their own fallen.
Despite her best efforts, the Might of Kalimdor had lost nearly three hundred people, most of them to Moam's rampage.
"I, too, grieve for the brave men and women we lost here, Lady Priestess." Leoric said as he approached. "But they died as heroes and will be remembered as such. Take comfort in knowing that your efforts saved many more. This was a tremendous victory by any measure."
"What about the people waiting for them to come home?" Luna asked softly.
Leoric deflated slightly. "The price of battling evil is always high, yet it is a price we all must pay eventually. Today was their time to pay it."
Luna's lips curled into a soft smile, his words reminding her of something. "There was a city near where Harry and I lived before." She said. "Some people there believed that death was the only god, and they had only one thing to say to him."
"What did they say?" Leoric asked curiously.
Luna straightened up and firmly planted the butt of her staff into the ground. "Not today."
"Lady Priestess, you cannot mean to raise them all!?" Leoric protested in alarm, realizing what she was intending. "Such a feat is beyond anyone!"
True, resurrection was difficult to perform even on a single person. It took a great deal of power to wrest a soul from the beyond. Still, Luna couldn't stand the thought of all the pain and grief that would result from these deaths.
Especially because this wasn't an avoidable war between two mortal factions. They had died fighting an existential threat that had to be fought, they deserved to make it home to their families.
"I'm not doing it alone." She said with a smile. "Big Sis Elune is going to help me."
XXXXX
Harry was just about done putting away the crystals that had sat at the heart of his necromantic bug defense lanterns and fending off annoyingly persistent questions from the Kirin Tor mages when the sun suddenly went dark.
A frisson of panic went through the scattered army at the unusual occurrence, but when nothing sprung out to attack them, that settled down into confusion.
A lunar eclipse? Harry wondered, but then sensed the presence of a divine entity. It took him about two seconds to put together what was going on, given what he knew of his wife, and he rushed over to the direction of the 'field hospital'.
Unsurprisingly, Luna was there, wreathed in a silver glow that was reaching out to the bodies of the fallen. It was too late to interrupt her. Highlord Drama Queen was next to her and looked like he had no idea what to do with himself.
More and more people arrived to watch the spectacle, including Arko and Jessir.
"What is she doing?" The neophyte paladin hissed.
"Something reckless." Harry replied sourly. Usually he was the one going overboard with magic, so watching from the sidelines as someone he cared about did it was a new and unpleasant experience.
There was no explosion of power or big spectacle, just gentle tendrils of moonlight reaching out to the bodies and people waking up. Some were missing limbs, but that could be handled with troll's blood potions now that they were alive again. Only those that had their heads cut off or bodies otherwise mangled beyond repair didn't come back.
Luna looked visibly strained as she continued channeling the mass resurrection spell, however. The moment that the last person 'woke up' she slumped and would have collapsed if she didn't have her staff to lean on.
Harry strode towards her as soon as the sun went back to normal, none too politely muscling von Zeldig out of the way. Arko and Jessir were quick to follow behind and support the exhausted priestess.
"Since when do you take pages out of my book?" He scolded.
"Haaa, that was hard." Luna slurred, obviously having trouble keeping her eyes open. No doubt she was also experiencing a head-splitting migraine from the strain of channeling that much power. "But…I brought them all back. Everyone I could."
"So you did." Harry allowed, hearing the cheers behind him as people were reunited with previously dead friends. "Now I'm teleporting you back home. Get some rest."
"Kay…" Luna yawned hugely and leaned in to nuzzle him affectionately. "Bye, Harry."
Then she went for the two night elves. "Bye, Jessir. Bye, Arko."
"Luna, people are staring." They protested.
"Hehe, you're so cute." The unrepentant woman giggled, looking a little more awake. "Look after Harry while I'm gone, okay? He gets carried away sometimes."
"I don't want to hear that from you right now." He retorted drily and teleported her back to the tower. "Troublesome woman."
"I can scarcely believe it, so many returned to us…." Leoric von Zeldig had stayed quietly nearby and only spoke once Luna was gone, sounding both awed and bemused. "A truly inspiring dedication."
"Would that she had the common sense to go along with it." Saurfang commented grumpily, having also been drawn by the unnatural eclipse. "Bringing so many back is a magnificent feat, but these men will not be ready for battle by the time we move on, and now we are down our most powerful priestess."
"You really should get those sour fangs looked at, they're bringing down the mood." Harry punned.
Arko and Jessir groaned, having heard more than one Saurfang pun before they ever arrived in Silithus, but von Zeldig snorted and hid his face behind a gauntleted fist.
The old orc gave both of them a baleful glare. "I would appreciate you not making light of this matter. Defeating the qiraji army here was only half the battle, we must still assault their stronghold and Lady Luna would have been invaluable. I hope you have more tricks up your sleeves such as the ones you showed in this fight, wizard. We may need them now that she is no longer with us."
"I am all about tricks." Harry smirked arrogantly. "But what makes you think Luna won't be with us?"
Saurfang and von Zeldig looked at him with disbelief. "Surely she will be in no state to do any more until she has had a long rest?"
Even Jessir and Arko gave him askance looks.
As if on cue, Luna teleported back, looking freshly showered and rested.
"That was a good nap!" She said happily. "Are we ready to go?"
Ah, time magic, the best way to take a long break without wasting time.
Things kind of devolved from there when someone shouted Luna's name and the army burst into cheering for her feat of mass resurrection. Saurfang and von Zeldig had to go impose order so that things didn't spiral into uncontrolled celebration.
Harry was just exasperated at how much attention his usually low-key wife was gathering. At the rate she was going, she was going to accidentally convert half of Azeroth to her own sect of moon worship.
XXXXX
OMAKE – Masters of the Puniverse
"I have to ask," Harry began after the introductions were done, smirking. "Are your fangs really sour?"
Silence. Jessir and Arko looked mortified at what he had just said, while the rest of the commanders tensed expectantly.
Saurfang himself was staring at Harry with bloodshot red eyes, veins popping across his sclera.
"That's quite the question you just axed me." The old orc replied with eerie calm.
"It was just a question," The pun wizard said back mildly. "there's no need for the situation to get Harry."
"True, let's not throw va-roks."
"That would really bug us out."
"Not to worry." Lynore Windstryke suddenly interjected. "If that happens, I will stryke them down like the wind."
"Aye, and then we can get hammered." Duke August Foehammer backed her up.
"If they dare mess with the bull, they're going to get the horns." Malagav the Tactician, the tauren, snorted.
"It is as my beefy friend says, these insects will quickly lose their guts once we gets started on them." Von Zeldig proclaimed.
"I didn't think it was possible to lose respect for people so quickly." Jessir said dully, standing off to the side.
"We're doomed." Arko agreed, just as dully.
"Aw come on, you two need to moonlighten up." Luna giggled.
"That you can say something like that without being shunned by the goddess terrifies me." Arko deadpanned.
"Big Sis loves a good pun. Or a really bad one."
"Yeah, that's what I was afraid of."
XXXXX
I started experiencing chest pains while writing that omake. Divine punishment?
Originally, this chapter was supposed to have the entire AQ raid, but I suspect that would have ended with a 30k word chapter.
