Chapter 11 - The curse of the Worgen

How many days had passed?

Dalrus blinked. Another drop of rain fell on his face, and then a third one. Soon, it was pouring down around him. The water did very little to help fight off the stench.

Mangled and burned corpses were spread as far as the eye could see over the road before the Wall of Greymane, and many had been tossed over the wall and fallen in the woods separating the wall from Gilneas City. By now their sight did nothing to phaze Dalrus, but the stench was almost physically painful. He could swear his nose was starting to go numb. The priests and volunteers from the townsfolk were doing their best to keep the diseased body parts away and prevent the plague from spreading among the Gilneans. So far it was succeeding... But as Dalrus walked amongst them, more and more he saw people who looked like corpses despite being healthy.

Morale was hitting a low amongst the Gilneans. For days now, the undead army battered against their walls. Every day hundreds of those monstrosities attempted to climb the wall or take it down, and every day the Gilneans had been successful in fending them off. The problem was... There was just no end to them.

He couldn't even count how many times he had looked over the edge of the wall, and all he saw was that endless sea of monstrosities. Shadowfang keep was also holding its own, but he doubted things were much better there. No matter how many undead they killed, there were ten more to take their place. It was as if they were growing from the ground like berries. And now this rain had arrived.

For a while now, the skies were dark. The Scourge's ziggurats and war machines had a dark aura about them, and released dark smoke into the atmosphere. Dalrus figured that without even the comfort of direct sunlight, the defenders would be even further demoralized. He was not wrong.

King Greymane, along with his noble entourage, did their best to keep the men from giving up. But day after day, things looked glommer. Dalrus didn't doubt they were capable of fending off any attack... But when the attack never ended, it was just a matter of time before they succumbed.

And today was a new day. Dalrus was now on the eastern side of the wall, where the fighting was the lightest. Below, he could see and hear the ocean's waves crashing against the coast. To the west... Screams. Shrieks. Projectiles flying in all directions. Explosions. Deaths from the living, a second one from those already dead. And still, the Scourge continued its push. Never tiring, never sleeping. About two nights ago, Arugal's magical barrier had failed to stop a wave of gigantic abominations from launching a surprise assault at the gates. It was thanks to Lord Crowley - who at the time was commandeering the naval defense from the west - that the hulking freaks failed to do irreparable damage. Crowley lost over twenty men on that desperate defense, and ever since then, an elite extermination squad was to always remain at ready by the sea in case another such an attack were launched. That meant they could not be employed during the day, as their task was of extreme importance and they needed to reserve their strength. And so their forces continued to dwindle and suffer, day after day, as the enemy seemingly had an infinite supply of troops.

Throwing his cloak over his head, Dalrus crouched low and ran as fast as he could along the wall as the rain poured down around him. He could hear the metallic 'clangs' it made as it fell upon the defender's armor and cannons. Men were yelling and scurrying to take the cannonballs and gunpowder away from the rain. Dalrus thought about taking a break at the first point... But then decided to go all the way back towards the gate. He was soaked by the time he arrived, but it didn't bother him much. Few things could actually bother him at that point, with death itself literally knocking at the doors of his city.

His mother, at least, had managed to hold strong. Miraculously, neither her husband nor her son had been seriously injured so far. Silvius' condition didn't improve much after that night, and while he could take his place among the front lines, helping sneak through the smaller hordes and take down important targets like necromancers, infiltrating the main camp was out of the question to anyone. And just like that, all hope of ending that war with a surgical strike at the enemy's most vital point was crushed.

Food was being rationed, and people were growing restless. There were those who would cry out in despair, say there was no point in continuing the struggle and beg the enemy for mercy. Others said they should flee. There were boats in the harbour, despite it being closed off. Many more said Gilneas was their home and they should defend it to the bitter end... And then there were those who would take... Drastic measures to ensure they wouldn't be turned into one of the undead after they inevitably lost. But the vast majority was simply trying to put on a brave face with a blank, hopeless expression. Despair was settling all over Gilneas.

Today, Dalrus remembered, his brother and father would be defending from the shore to the west. Time and again the undead attempted to bring their boats around the edge of the wall, but their defenses were simply too tight to be breached. That did not stop their enemy from trying, however. Even a single foe who managed to slip through could cause catastrophic damage. Lucky for them, however, tinder for ships was the one thing the Scourge didn't appear to have an unlimited supply of. Even luckier, there weren't any kinds of undead sharks or something. So no constant threat from the ocean. The Gilneans were practically free to send in troops from the west by ship unimpeded. That allowed them to flank the enemy at will from that side, one of the main reasons they had held as long as they did so far. Still... Each man that fell against the Scourge was another one added to their numbers. And one less irreplaceable defender for their city.

Arriving by the gate, he saw the defenders had formed a defensive line before the shoreline. Cannon balls were raining down on the enemy, and the foot soldiers were side by side, their shields lined up to form a literal defensive wall. Still... Dalrus knew, and so did the Scourge... Men would, eventually, tire. Even if it took days for their determination to fade, it inevitably would.

Nerubians and abominations were keeping the shoreline defenders from reaching the main forces assaulting the wall. Until that day, they had always managed to push through the undead and cleanse the walls from those monstrosities. But today, for the first time... They were being held in check. Were they too tired? Was the enemy stronger? Dalrus did not know, and didn't think it mattered. Everyone was at the end of their forces.

'Well... At least we did better than Lordaeron.' He thought bitterly. The worst thing was, literally any other kind of enemy would fail. But a war against an endless army that never tired, didn't need provisions and didn't suffer with morale... It was just unfair.

A massive explosion came from their side. Looking over, Dalrus saw that the scourge had unleashed one of their destroyers; mobile catapults fueled by burning fel boulders. The defenders were scattering, and someone was shouting orders to regroup and attack the destroyer. Chaotic battle ensued, and eventually, the threat was eliminated and the Gilneans regrouped once more... This time with a smaller line. And it would only keep growing smaller until no longer anyone was there.

'Bloody hell... We are going to need a miracle.' Dalrus thought, hoping at least his family was OK from that terrible assault. Then... Movement. Dalrus could see something new arise from the undead ranks. He was reminded of his brother's tale the night he had returned... A demon the size of a house with bat-like wings and massive horns coming out of his bald, flaming head. Surely enough, the creature who came into their view fit the description nicely.

"HUMANS!" His heavy voice echoed all around them. "YOU HAVE FOUGHT WELL! YOU HAVE GIVEN US MORE TROUBLE THAN WE THOUGHT WAS WORTH TO EXTERMINATE YOU! AND FOR THAT, WE SHALL BE MERCIFUL! OPEN YOUR PATHETIC GATES NOW, AND WE PROMISE YOU QUICK DEATHS BEFORE BEING BOUND IN ETERNAL SERVITUDE TO THE LICH KING!" After his little speech, his malevolent laughter was all that was left, slowly fading into the wind. Then, movement once more... And finally, the entire host began its march.

Dalrus felt his heart sink. There had to be a dozen destroyers making their way over. Abominations, bone colossi, nerubians, gargoyles... The whole package was marching forwards. The defenders were already on the move, unleashing a suppressive barrage of gunfire, cannonballs and magic against the Scourge... But they barely managed to slow them down. Surely, they were suffering heavy losses. Dalrus calculated over half would be decimated before even reaching the gates. But once they did... Even if they did manage to hold them off, the gates would be damaged. And soon the necromancers would bring in fresh corpses to refuel their army and attack again. And again. And again. Until finally, the gates crumbled. He could only watch, men screaming, guns firing, spells being cast all around him...

The undead was almost right at their gates...

And that was the moment when THEY showed up.

No one could even begin to fathom where those creatures came from at the time. No one had any idea what they were, why they were there. One moment, the undead armies were right on Gilneas' doorstep... And the next... A new army composed of creatures that looked like massive wolves standing on two legs as if they were men were assaulting the Scourge. These creatures fought with fang and claw, howling and snarling like beasts.

All the Gilneans could do was stare aghast as the undead were absolutely decimated. These wolf creatures looked as if they had as little regard for their safety as the undead did. Scores of them were killed, countless more were killing. Like a tidal wave, they washed over the undead armies, and continued to press on forward.

The undead forces tried to fight back. Their colossi brought down their fists, their siege weapons fired their shots, their warlocks and necromancers unleashed devastating spells of death. But the beasts came from their flanks, and their speed was unnatural. Running on all fours like animals, and with a speed to match a racing horse, they were incredibly agile and nimble. They swarmed the undead giants and used claws and fangs to mangle and dismember them, and did the same to the abominations, nerubians and ghouls.

The undead were pushed back to Pyrewood, and then all the way back to Shadowfang Keep. The defenders on the shoreline were still dealing with the undead there, but before long a portion of those wolf creatures separated from the main host and began assaulting those as well.

Dalrus was not sure he could even believe what he was seeing. It was a miracle. Out of nowhere, an army of beasts had shown up and saved the day. He watched in amazement as the undead by the shore were killed by the beasts. The defenders stood there, watching them, no doubt just amazed as he was...

Only for their joy to be ended the moment the beasts attacked the defenders as well.

Those who had finished annihilating the undead all the way up to Ambermill were now turning towards Shadowfang keep. Their howls could be heard all the way from the wall as they charged ahead. Unlike the undead, those creatures were unnaturally agile. Many were killed in the attempt, but some managed to cross the bridge. Dalrus could hear the screams from where he was. And then there were those down on the shoreline, desperately trying to fend off that new threat. Chaos was everywhere. The full army of those creatures was now surrounding the Keep for to the north, sieging it. Fortunately, those who remained behind were few.

Dalrus heard screams from below. Crowley was shouting for the gates to open up so they could rescue the men at the shore. Godfrey was saying they were already lost, they would do better to aim the cannons at them instead. Greymane was nowhere to be seen.

The boy looked back at the battle on the shore. The few remaining defenders had formed a new - much smaller - defensive line and were slowly retreating. The ships at the shore couldn't fire their cannons and arrows, as the beasts were too close to their own troops. And the remaining beasts were starting to surround the defenders and cut off their escape route.

Thinking quickly, Dalrus came to a decision. He dashed straight forward, grabbed a rifle out of the hands of an unsuspecting soldier, a crate of gunpowder by one of the cannons, and leapt off over the edge of the wall. He could feel the wind whistling around his ears as he fell like a stone, the ground quickly approaching him. He remembered that one night... When for the first time, the Shadow was the one to bend it's will before him.

He closed his eyes.

'If you're in there...' He thought. 'I'm about to die. So if you want to make a meal out of me one day... You're gonna help me make it through this mess.'

There was no response.

Dalrus opened his eyes.

'I am not letting my brother and father die.'

It was fluid, like he'd done it a thousand times before. One moment, he was about to be swallowed by the rotting corpse of an abomination who had fallen over one of the wolf creatures. The next, there was a dark flash, and suddenly he was sprinting over the dead bodies, trying to ignore the brutality of the warfield surrounding him. He had very little time to act.

Looking around, he quickly located his target; one broken down Scourge Destroyer. The wheels were busted and the machine had toppled over. He rushed towards it as fast as he could, then, with a sigh of relief, realised the catapult itself wasn't heavily damaged. It took all his strength to spin the bloody thing over, then drop the crate full of gunpowder onto the launcher. He then hesitated, and took the gun in his hands. "Oh... Bummer." He said, realizing he had never shot one of those bloody things before. He remembered seeing the guards doing it countless times in the past few days, so he already had a proper notion. He hesitated, then realized there was no time to waste. It took him a few more moments to properly calculate the trajectory and aim it at the battle going on by the shore line. The defenders were completely surrounded now. They had no hope of escaping, and even if they weren't, there was only sea right behind them. They were meant to hold the line, not retreat. Dalrus took a deep breath... Then fired the catapult.

The crate spun as it flew, gunpowder flying everywhere. He only hoped the bloody thing wouldn't burst open and spew its contents everywhere. He raised the rifle and took aim. Then he realized he already knew the path the crate would take. One glance, and he instinctively knew how it would arch, when it would begin to fall down... He closed one eye, and focused. Aiming just a bit lower, he cocked the gun against his shoulder... And pulled the trigger.

The recoil sent him down on his butt on the floor. The gunpowder crate was just a few meters from that slaughter on the shoreline when it was hit by the bullets, then it exploded. Men and beast alike had to recoil from the blast wave. Those closest to it had their fur singed and were yelping in pain. Nearly every single one turned to face the source of the noise. Without hesitation, Dalrus hopped on top of the destroyer and began firing the gun upwards as he waved his arms. "OY, FLEABAGS! THAT'S RIGHT, OVER HERE! COME ON, PLENTY MORE FOOD OVER HERE!" He shouted at the top of his lungs.

The plan worked. Many of them bared their fangs, howled in rage and bloodthirst and began running on all fours like animals straight at Dalrus. "Oh... Oh, BUGGER!" He screamed, turning the exact opposite direction and breaking into a mad sprint. "BUGGER, BUGGER, BUGGER, BUGGER, BUGGER ME!" He could hear the howls, barks and growls from behind him. The creatures were fast. Very, very fast. Silverpine forest wasn't too far off to the east, though most of the trees had been killed or cut down by the Scourge. As he walked, he realized the floor under him felt... Dead. Not even like a desolate wasteland... Somehow, it was even deader than that. Where the Scourge had walked over and sieged for days, the ground had become grey, sterile, absolutely lifeless, as if he were running over a hardened, rotting corpse. Not that he had time to make analogies at the moment, not with a pack of blood-thirsty feral beasts chasing him down. They were closing in fast, he could tell. His tiny human legs were no match for that agility only a creature who had evolved into a true predator possessed.

'BUGGER THAT, I DIDN'T SURVIVE A BLOODY ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE TO BE MAULED TO DEATH BY FREAKING GIANT MANDOGS!' He thought, lowering his head and redoubling his efforts. 'Come on now, what was it again? Breathe in the shadow... Not too much, just the thinnest layer... The one that looked like a gas...' He closed his eyes for just a second. He remembered a lesson Silvius had imparted on him once. "Alright boy, today I'm gonna teach you a survival lesson." He had said as Dalrus pretended not to be distracted by the butterfly that was coming out of a cocoon on the tree behind him. "Inevitably, someday you're gonna end up doing something very stupid. So now I'm gonna try and give you a way to make it out of there alive." Then something about letting the shadow flow through his blood, make him lighter and renew his stamina for a few seconds? But damn, that butterfly was pretty... 'Bloody hell, focus, you cout!' He chided himself, then tried to pull in the power from the Void. It was like trying to cup air with his bare hands while his fingers were all spread. He could only inhale a tiny sliver of it. He felt that shadow energy flow through him like oxygen, and immediately he felt the effects. His body cooled down, his lungs stopped burning, and suddenly he was sprinting so fast the wolf beasts were left behind him. His joy was short-lived, however. Within seconds, that second wind was over, and exhaustion began to settle in. Fortunately, it had already had the desired effect. He was rather amazed it barely took him one minute to run all the few hundred meters from the shore to the dark, dying woods of Silverpine forest, the woods that surrounded and covered the mountains around Gilneas.

As soon as he approached the first dead tree, it was pure instinct that saved his life. He heard a buzz coming from behind him, and immediately the boy threw himself onto the ground. The creature that had leapt at him seconds earlier flew over his head and skidded to a halt in front of him, it's thin lupine lips peeled back into a savage snarl, its yellow eyes staring straight at him full of hunger and bloodlust.

Dalrus had never seen anything like it. From far away they looked like wolves, but this one was standing on two feet like a human. It had legs, a torso, arms thick as his thighs with three long, crooked fingers and a thumb ending in razor-sharp talons. Its body looked almost like a human covered in light brown fur. It was, for some reason, wearing a loincloth around its waist and cloth bracers on it's forearms. Its head looked almost exactly like a wolf, except that it was larger, with vestigial humanoid features. Its canines were so large, they were sticking out of its mouth even while it was closed.

The beast leapt forward again, quick as a viper, claws outstretched and mouth wide open. Dalrus shadowstepped and reappeared on its back while it was still in the air. Using its thick, muscular shoulders as leverage, he leapt forward and resumed the race for his life. There were more closing in now. Soon, dozens would be within leaping range, just like the one he had barely avoided. Dalrus couldn't simply keep unleashing the power of the Void to sprint and shadowstep at will. The side effects of using it in sequence like that would be almost worse than being eaten alive by those things. And so he ran, hopping over and ducking under the dead trees and stumps that were becoming increasingly thicker as he approached the 'healthy' part of the forest. More of the beasts tried to lunge at him, but now he was able to use the trees to avoid and dodge them. Darkness began to surround him as the tree tops covered the little sunlight that filtered through the dark clouds above, and all he could hear was his own breathing, the howls from all around his back and the dead leaves breaking under his feet.

Desperation was just starting to settle inside his heart when finally, he saw what he was looking for. There was a clearing right ahead. The beasts were almost on top of him now, and he did not dare waste what little focus and stamina he had on another Shadowstep or Sprint. He raced straight into the clearing, already hearing the trees and twigs behind him snap as his chasers finally caught up to the boy. Dalrus leapt forward, entering the clearing... 'All or nothing, don't you dare let me down now!' Were the last words in his mind as he suddenly pulled in the remains of the Void around him like a cocoon, and vanished entirely. As soon as he landed on the ground, he had to crouch on all fours in order to diminish his noise as much as possible, then he leapt to the side and wrapped his arms around one of the trees. And there, he laid, not daring to breathe, not even think.

To Vanish was different from simply entering stealth. Silvius had explained to him that this was a far more advanced level of stealth. Rather than the thinner, more subtle layers of the Void, he would pull in the darker shades and cover his entire body in them. That would completely dampen all sound he made, as well as hiding his smell. Unless someone deliberately tripped over him, it would be absolutely impossible to determine where he was. The only downside was he was essentially sealed off from the outside world and completely surrounded by a shell of darkness. That meant two things: the voices in his head were louder than ever, and he couldn't breathe. And yet, he still remained right where he was, watching as the wolf-men all came to a skidding halt on the clearing around him. They were all rather confused, most of them lifting their heads and sniffing at the air. Dalrus could see they were all very varied in their fur color and size, though that didn't really matter at that moment. He could feel his lungs starting to burn from the need for air, as well as dark eyes within the Void start to peer down at him. "Delve too deeply... And you shall be consumed..."

Slowly - VERY slowly - he began to move. The lack of oxygen only made it feel as if time was slowing down all the more, and his head was starting to feel light. He circled around the tree until he was out of the clearing, then, unable to hold it back anymore, he released that dark shell surrounding him and kept only the bare minimum necessary to maintain his stealth. Dalrus wanted to gasp for air like a drowning victim, but with all his willpower, he managed to only pull in short huffs of air through his nose, his eyes closed as he tried to calm his body down and diminish the expenditure of oxygen. After a few seconds, he opened his eyes and saw one of the wolf creatures face to face with him.

Those deep, yellow glowing eyes stared straight at him. No... Straight through him. Its nostrils flared up, and Dalrus felt its warm, fetid breath wash over him. It looked up at the tree, and Dalrus saw it tense its powerful legs - and noticed its feet were actually little dog paws. With a mighty leap, the wolf creature ended up on one of the branches high above him. Dalrus did not dare to look up. The pack had apparently lost interest in him, and they all began to head... Somewhere. From the way their footsteps were heading, he calculated they were going northwest. Only when the last one vanished in the distance did his knees finally give out and he collapsed onto the floor, sweat trickling all over his face as he took in huge breaths. His heart felt as if it were on his throat, and his eyes were very wide. "Holy... Wow..." He practically squealed, his voice very high pitched. 'Holy Light, I can't believe I made it out of this in one-' His thoughts were interrupted as once again his instincts kicked in. He was amazed at how often he managed to cheat death in the past ten minutes - it felt like once every eight minutes - but as that whistling noise came from high above, Dalrus' body was rolling forward before he could even register what was going on. Looking up, he saw three long gashes into the wood, and the beast who had nearly beheaded him was lifting its head and letting out a howl that echoed all around through the woods surrounding them. In the distance, he could hear the rest of the pack howl in response, then the unmistakable sound of them closing in. 'Oh... Welp. So much for that.' He thought, sighing in exasperation. He reached for his belt and pulled out the new daggers Silvius had presented him the day after Dalrus saved him. 'About time I gave you something of true value, boy.' His master had said. These weapons had wickedly curved dark-grey blades, the front sporting three serrated patterns that looked like teeth. 'These bad boys are meant to stab as well as slash. I'm sure you'll make good use of them.'

Looking down on the elegant weapons, Dalrus was a little sad they would never be put to good use. Then again, that 'good use' would be nothing less than killing other people. Oh, the irony.

The wolf-man interrupted his thoughts as it lunged at Dalrus, flailing its arms and attempting to rend him to gory bits with its claws. Fortunately, the beast's movements were very easy to read, as it made no attempt to mask its intentions or feint in any way. It wanted to kill him. Its instincts said the way to do it would be waving those claws around. Simple as that.

Eventually, Dalrus saw an opening. As the beast attempted to sweep him off his feet, Dalrus rolled underneath its arm - the wind from that vicious strike being enough to send his hair flying - and, getting up just behind it, he lunged forward and stabbed the monster in the back, right where he calculated the heart would be. His weapon sank almost all the way to the hilt. He could feel the serrated edge rending muscle and slipping through bones, then his weapon got stuck. The beast went berserk with pain and rage, and flailed about madly. Dalrus had to let go of the dagger and leap back to gain some distance as it began to swipe in all directions in blind rage.

That only made it easier for Dalrus to find another opening. He ran towards the tree to his side, then took about two steps up before jumping off it and over the wolf-man's blind strikes. Landing on the creature's back, Dalrus sank his second dagger in the creature's chest, his other hand curling his fingers through that thick mane of hair that surrounded the neck for support. The beast let out one final, painful yelp - much like a dog who had been kicked - and toppled forward, lifeless.

And then, finally, his adrenaline rush ended. Dalrus felt exhaustion like never before settling on his young body. He barely had enough strength to pull his weapons out of that beast's corpse when he heard the snarls behind him. Looking over his shoulder, he saw that the entire pack had returned. They were all baring fangs and staring at him, their eyes full of hatred and hunger.

'Bummer... Guess this is it.' The boy thought, not even having enough strength to sigh. He simply collapsed against the still warm corpse of the wolf-man he had just killed, his legs trembling and incapable of supporting his weight. 'At least I managed to save some people... My life for about.. What, thirty, forty soldiers? Dad and Fel were there too... Eh, good enough.' A sad chuckle escaped him as the beastmen slowly approached. Maybe they were wary? Perhaps they thought this was a trap after he killed one of them? Were they even capable of thoughts like that? Not that it mattered. Many were on all fours, preparing to pounce him. They really were like wolves... They were going to attack as a group. Make sure he wouldn't duck or roll in any direction. 'Oh, man... Mom is gonna be so upset...' Were the final thoughts in Dalrus Plaguefang's mind before the air was filled with the sound of gunfire, hooves stomping the ground and men screaming. The beastmen all yelped from the ranged assault, the bullets making it impossible for them to advance. They all broke off and began to run away. All around Dalrus, mounted Gilnean soldiers armed with rifles came riding forth, shooting at the creatures as they fled. He saw one in particular stop just next to him, then hop down from his mount. Dalrus' vision was fading, but he managed to see the bearded, eye-patched face of Lord Darius Crowley smiling down at him. "Thank the Light we made it here in time, lad. Now let's get you home."

Dalrus felt like he could have cried then, but instead he let out a loud, painful moan and threw his head back against the wolfman's corpse behind him. "Light my arse, I'd rather thank you!"