Chapter 36 - By demons be driven - PART 1
'Why do I have to keep getting into these situations?' Dalrus thought to himself as he had to jump down from his hiding spot, since now the peons were arming the catapult and preparing it to be fired. 'Why can't I, for bloody once, do what everyone tells me to and just sit still for a while?'
It was so easy. All he had to do was keep walking back and forth through those camps, answering the same questions he was repeatedly asked over and over again. "How did you survive? How did you escape? What was the Warsong camp like? Who were the Night Elves? What were the demons who corrupted the Warsong like? How did you get back? Who is the prophet?" Again and again, he'd always give the same answers while being told to speak with members of each faction.
He had been particularly looking forward to relating his deeds to the Horde, since they were far more interesting people than the members of the Human Expedition. At least, he thought it was very thrilling to be able to walk among orcs, tauren and trolls without the imminent threat of being skewered where he stood. Thrall was, in fact, a much nicer person than he had realized; in the days following their march to this place, the Warchief had invited Dalrus directly to his tent, before his captains and generals to relate his story. He was particularly curious about Cairne, the tauren chieftain.
He clearly remembered his first meeting with the old tauren; how the old timer had stroked his long beard - woven in enough locks to match even a dwarf - while regarding the boy with deep eyes full of wisdom. "It is my first time meeting one of your species in such a manner, young one. Your deeds are valiant, and have managed to unite our people. Although I have only recently joined the horde, it eases my heart to know that this old conflict is about to meet its end without further bloodshed."
"Indeed." Thrall had said, sitting upon the chair of the Warchief. "I have much to thank you for, young Dalrus. And I hope that with your further aid, we can save Grom and rid the Horde from the Legion's influence once and for all. Now, please... Tell me what happened after your escape... And what happened to Hellscream."
After relating his tale, once more - and answering Thrall's many inquiries to the best of his ability - he had been told to relay to Jaina that Thrall wished to discuss a method of rescuing Grom without killing him. To that, Cairne had spoken once more: "The spirits are restless. I sense a great battle ahead of us... And ahead of you, young rogue. I cannot pinpoint what it is exactly, but I sense a dark cloud surrounding you, like a terrible storm waiting to be unleashed."
At that point, Dalrus was pretty much getting used to how people seemed to be able to tell what was going on with him and his mind. "Well, the same can be said for all of us, eh? We all have terrible battles in the near future. At least, now, we can focus on what's really important instead of bickering among ourselves."
The old tauren had laughed at that. A loud, thunderous laugh that made Dalrus' entire body tremble. "Bickering, you say? Indeed... I suppose before something as dark and twisted as this Burning Legion, all conflicts we ever faced in the past would be seen as nothing more than that. May Mother Earth watch over you, young one."
After that, Dalrus had made his way out of the tent... Only to come across a familiar figure there. "Long time no see, mon."
Taken by surprise, Dalrus beheld Watu, the troll woman responsible for watching over him when he was imprisoned in the Horde camp. "Oh, hey there, Watu! So, no hard feelings, right? You know, for escaping right under your nose, and all that!"
The troll had grunted, one hand upon her bare hip. She was still as... Lightly clad as the last time he had seen her. The other hand was holding her spear shaft against the ground. "And stealing my daggers."
"What do you mean 'your' daggers? These are mine, lady. You stole them from me first." He had declared, his hands going for the handles of his weapons. "And you completely ruined them, too! They are too big and heavy now, almost like swords!"
She had huffed. "Bah, too big for your baby hands, mabbe! For me, dey be just perfect. But it be fine, mon. I'm not angry at dat. If you managed to steal dem from my belt like dat, den you earned dem back. Put dem to good use, eh mon?"
With a wary smile, Dalrus let his hands drift away from his weapons. "Yeah, well, I want you to make them back the way they were before. I already showed these to blacksmiths in the Expedition camp, but they said this is beyond their craftsmanship and nothing short of reforging them entirely could undo what you did."
To that, however, she simply shook her head. "Dat be impossible, mon. I imbued dose weapons with power while crafting dem anew. You'll see, if you actually learn how to use dem right, dey be much better dan before."
"Great..." He said with a sad sigh, his shoulders slumping over. "Just great... Thanks a lot. Well, nice seeing you again, but, you know, I got stuff to do, so..."
"Hold on, mon." She had grabbed his arm, then pulled him closer while bending over so she was face to face with him. "I'm pretty curious how you managed to slip away like dat. Maybe you'd like to come over my tent later and tell me?"
He found himself so close to her, their noses were almost touching. He could see every little detail in her surprisingly beautiful blue face - considering how unsightly most trolls were. But she had well defined features, with high cheeks, smooth skin and plump lips, although those were perpetually parted by her little tusks. "I... What? Your tent? Tonight? Alone?"
Her lips parted in a wide grin, and her eyes felt like they were burning an image into his own. "Dat's right, mon. I'll bet you can sneak in without anyone noticing if you want to. I'll be waitin'." And with that, she had let go of him and, without even giving him a chance to respond, she turned around and walked away.
It took a few minutes for Dalrus' brain to properly register what had happened. 'Did a woman just invite me to her chambers alone at night?' He thought to himself, puzzled. He would have probably remained there for much longer still, had Cairne not stepped out of the tent that moment and almost squashed Dalrus with his enormous hoof by accident. His reflexes kicked in, and Dalrus rolled out of the way, falling onto the ground afterwards. "Oh, heavens! I'm sorry, little one, I did not see you there! Are you alright?" Cairne had said, offering Dalrus a hand half as big as he was to help him up. "You look like you have a lot on your mind."
Using the tauren's hand as a platform to get up, Dalrus quickly cleared his throat and dusted his own clothes, saying: "Oh, no, nothing at all, good sir! Nevermind me, I have a lot to do right now, as we all do, so I'll be going! Good day to you!" And then, before he could make a bigger fool of himself, he ran off to his own camp.
Oh, he could still remember, even now... The rest of that day was like a dream for him. Carrying messages back and forth, relating his tales and dealing with Lyafra and her two bodyguards while his mind was filled with thoughts of what would happen later that night... But even after the moon was high in the sky, still his work wasn't finished. There was always someone else wanting to know what powers the demons he spied on had unleashed and how to counter them, or what weaknesses he had observed in the Warsong camp while hiding there. At long last, tired of his endless tasks, the boy slipped away from the Human Expedition camp and managed to sneak into the Horde's side. Finding her tent wasn't hard; he assumed it'd be in the troll's lodgings, and, like before, the tent farthest to the back. Gathering his courage, he entered, and saw she was alone in there, waiting for him.
And after that...
His reminiscing was abruptly interrupted when the catapults started to fire enormous boulders against the Chaos Orcs' camps, the sound of the ropes snapping, the gears turning and the wood cracking almost making him cover his ears. 'Oh, right. There's a battle going on.' Looking up, he saw the Horde's troops charging at the Warsong forces guarding the passage up along the ridge. The mountains formed a steep path leading upwards in a spiral, and at the top of that path, he could vaguely make out what appeared to be an altar... Or a temple of some sort. There was no doubt that, if Grommash wasn't down here, he'd be up there. So, it would be a harsh uphill battle for Thrall.
'Time to see what I can do about it, then!' Dalrus thought, relying on his stealth to keep him well hidden as he ran along the battlefield along with the other Horde warriors towards the Warsong bastion.
The chaos orcs hadn't really bothered setting up more than token defenses; there were trenches on the ground with wooden spikes sticking out of them, as well as watch towers with archers shooting down their enemies from above... But the majority of the Warsong orcs corrupted by Mannoroth's blood were standing their ground inside of their base, eager to meet their foes in battle. It didn't take long for their wish to be granted.
What Dalrus saw when he arrived was nothing short of pure chaos. Warriors were spread all over the place, clashing weapons and screaming at the top of their lungs. Bodies were already spread all over the floor, along with enough blood to make some people slip and fall down. While the Horde warriors - the orcs, the tauren and the trolls - were ferocious and determined, the chaos orcs were more like mindless beasts driven berserk. Even if they were cut and stabbed, nothing short of death could stop them. Even if their limbs were cut off or wounds deep enough to make anyone bleed to death in seconds were made, they would still continue to fight down to their last breath, some even going so far as to make use of their tusks and bite their enemies.
'Yeah, I think I'll stay away from that one this time.' Dalrus thought to himself, steering away from the main battle and, instead, slipping through the sloppy orc constructions to approach the steep rocky wall leading up along the ridge. With a little hop, he threw himself against the wall and gripped at the uneven, rough surface to hold himself there. 'OK, I think this could actually work!' He happily thought to himself, then began to scale the wall of the ridge.
From what he could tell by looking from below, there were two bases blocking the walkable path up the ridge leading to where Hellscream was. Dalrus' shortcut would lead him directly up to the second Warsong base. He could clearly hear the battle raging under him while he climbed, but he did not dare look back. Fortunately, he already had some experience climbing something far higher than this, so the whole thing wasn't too difficult. This allowed his mind to wander a bit... Reminding him of the events following the night he spent with Watu in her tent.
It still made him feel a little prick of regret, remembering his last conversation with his brother. He knew Felrus was just worried about him, and mostly, his own childish responses were due to his frustration at the dull, repetitive diplomatic tasks he was being given at their camp, on top of being used as a messenger boy all day long, every day. That was the main reason why, when he heard Lyafra was calling for him again, instead of answering his summons he simply asked a passing by soldier to inform her he would be doing a very important diplomatic task in the Horde camp and sneaked onboard one of the catapults to help in the upcoming battle.
Needless to say, bad decisions had been made.
'Well, at least this beats having to listen to that uptight wench sassing me again.' He bitterly thought. 'You'd think she would be happy that I managed to accomplish so much on my own, but nooooo, she goes all like "You are lucky Lady Jaina didn't imprison you as a deserter! Sneaking off on your own, disobeying orders is a crime punishable by death in times of war! So now you'll lower your head and do as you're told, brat!" Ugh, are all high elves so insufferable? I swear...'
Eventually, he reached the edge of the ridge overlooking the battlefield below. Peeking over it, he saw more Warsong buildings, but the orcs of that stronghold were gathering at the entrance of the ramp leading up to their own base. Looking back down, Dalrus could see that the battle below was still going... But it looked like the Horde forces were winning. Perhaps it had something to do with the warchief shooting lightning bolts and summoning earthquakes to reduce even the buildings to rubble.
Looking back up, however, Dalrus realized these orcs were less avid for battle than their companions below. The peons were pushing carts full with metallic, round objects covered in spikes. Based on his past experiences, Dalrus assumed those could only be bombs.
Overseeing the arranging of the carts was an orc unlike any Dalrus had ever seen. He resembled a shaman, wearing robes and holding a staff... However, his staff was adorned in what looked like human skulls at the tip, and his robes sported several spikes jutting out of his shoulders. On top of that, his eyes burned with a deep green fire, just like Mannoroth's. A grunt approached this orc, then knelt before him. "Warlock, we have filled the carts with the bombs we took from the goblins, as you instructed. They are ready to be pushed down the moment the weaklings begin to approach."
"Good..." The warlock let out a low, malicious chuckle, making the skulls and the bones in his staff rattle disturbingly. "Those animals we left at the front base should at least cull their numbers. As they approach, weakened from their previous battle, we shall be ready to spring our trap."
There was a grunt from the kneeling orc, who then stood up before the warlock. "What is the point of all this? It's better to meet them head on and spill their blood ourselves for our demon overlords!"
"Silence!" The warlock suddenly lifted his hand, his fingers curled in the shape of a claw as if he were squeezing something between them. An orb of emerald flame formed above his palm, and with a wave of his hand, he launched it at the orc. The poor grunt couldn't even turn and run when the fireball hit him; his body was immediately consumed in the demonic flames, and he fell to his knees, screaming and rolling over the ground. It was to no avail, however; as his horrific screams filled the air, the fires consumed him entirely until there was only silence. The warlock then turned to the rest of the chaos orcs. "Do not dare question me! I am one of the Legion's chosen, I hold the power of the fel at the tips of my fingers! Only a beast, devoid if any intelligence meets its enemies head on. I shall defeat our enemies without even lifting a finger! Now, arm the bombs, and prepare to release them upon our foes!"
No one launched a second glimpse at their companion, now little more than a pile of carbonized bones on the ground as they carried out the warlock's instructions. 'That's just madness. How can they obey a guy like that?' Dalrus though, utterly appalled. 'First things first, though. I have to do something about those bombs before Thrall resumes his advance.'
There wouldn't be a lot of time for that, however. Dalrus could see the Horde's victory below was imminent. Apparently, the chaos orcs' lack of fear of death was backfiring on them; as they charged in without second thought, the Horde's shamans would unleash the earth's wrath, causing enormous pikes to spring from the ground and impale the attackers during their reckless charge. The troll spearmen were applying a similar tactic, allowing the rest of the warriors to dispatch the chaos orcs while they were immobilized. 'OK, gotta act fast now. Come on, Dalrus. You can do this.'
Slowly, and double checking his stealth cloak, the rogue made his way around the Warsong's buildings until he was at the front of their base, right next to the carts filled with bombs. The peons were busy carrying the bombs down to the edge of the path leading up to their base, where they could push them down and let them roll towards the incoming enemies.
Unseen, Dalrus approached one of the carts and peeked inside. The bombs were just as big as the ones he had utilized to deal with the harpies, although these were covered in huge spikes and black lines over the dusty metal. Probably some kind of goblin trademark to make them look more deadly. 'Oh, I think I got an idea.' He thought to himself, taking a quick glance around him to make sure nobody was watching that moment.
He pulled one of the bombs out of the cart, then quickly hid behind it so he could mess with the console. 'OK, what were the buttons again? This damn thing better not speak like the other one... Ah, there we go.' With a nod of satisfaction, Dalrus checked if the coast was clear before dropping the bomb inside of the cart once again. 'And now, we wait. This is going to be good.'
Dalrus retreated to a safe spot, which, he assumed, would be the one with the least people and furthest from the bombs. Wrongly, he thought that'd be next to the warlock. So Dalrus stalked towards that evil-looking old orc, making sure to stay out of his field of view just in case…
And as soon as Dalrus came within 20 paces of him, the warlock suddenly turned his whole body directly at where Dalrus was standing. "Who goes there!?" He shouted, his hand lifting as a large ball of shimmering green flames formed between his claw-like fingers.
'Oh, bugger.' Dalrus thought, freezing in place. Now this was completely unexpected. He didn't move, fearing it'd betray his position.
That, however, almost proved to be his undoing. The warlock fired his fel blast at precisely where the rogue stood, and Dalrus had to break his stealth and dive out of the way. The fel blast hit the ground where he had been a second earlier, and it exploded upon impact, sending charred debris everywhere as the crater smoldered with demonic flame.
The warlock's eyes narrowed as he stared at Dalrus, who was now crouching a few paces away from him. "An intruder? And a human?" He asked, surprised. "Fool, you think your feeble hold of the darkness can hide you from me?" And with that, the warlock lifted both his hands, his mouth twisting into a cruel smile. "Behold, the mighty power bestowed upon me by the Burning Legion!" And with that, he fired two more fel blasts at Dalrus. The young rogue didn't even have time to give a witty retort as he jumped from one side to another, desperately trying to avoid death by demonic immolation. The first bolt flew over his head, the second was about to blow up on the floor right in front of him. Dalrus leapt as high as he could, then shadowstepped towards the edge of the cliff, next to where the orc warlock was.
"Neat trick, buddy. Check out mine!" Dalrus grunted, his weapons lunging forward towards the corrupted orc's chest.
The only warning he had was the orc's expression. It hadn't changed. Still, he had that cruel, victorious smile on his crimson face. This made Dalrus hesitate, and that was the reason he didn't lose his hands. The orc's body was suddenly surrounded by a sphere of burning emerald flames, which encased Dalrus' weapons almost all the way to the hilt. With a cry of surprise, the young rogue leapt back and almost fell.
"A trick, you say? Foolish child! This power is beyond your comprehension! It is the absolute power of demons!" He laughed, slowly approaching Dalrus on the ground, his whole body surrounded by demonic flames. "I can sense that you, too, tap into the veil of darkness to draw your power… But yours is a shallow, feeble usage! I have delved into the darkness, surrendered myself to it! And this is my reward!" Outstretching both hands, the old orc began to laugh maniacally as two streams of demonic fire shot out from his palms, directly at Dalrus on the floor. "POWER!" He screamed, the flames completely surrounding the boy's body with such force and intensity, they were shooting all the way over the edge of the hill they stood on. "UNLIMITED POWER!"
By now, a crowd had gathered to watch the warlock deal with Dalrus. The old orc let out a final amused chuckle, then lowered his hands, the flames dying down along with the ones that covered his body. Where Dalrus once laid was now a smoldering crater, covered in charred rock and soot.
The warlock laughed. "Not even your bones are left behind! Such is the greatness of my new powers!" He said, turning around to return his focus to the task of destroying the orcish horde, and almost bumping into Dalrus who was standing directly behind him.
"Sup." Said the rogue who was almost face to face with the orc.
"What!? How-" The warlock began to speak, then he fell on the ground, doubled over as all air left his lungs from the quick but heavy shot Dalrus had delivered directly to his kidney.
"Bugger you, that's how." Was the rogue's response as he lifted one of his blades and brought the tip down against the orc's neck. Stunned as he was, the warlock could not react as the weapon pierced through his flesh, coming all the way through the other side. Dalrus placed his boot on the warlock's chest and, with a powerful tug, his weapon tore through the orc's throat, spilling blood and guts all over the floor. "Unlimited power my arse." He grunted, turning around to look at the dozens of chaos orcs that were approaching him now, weapons in hand and wicked grins on their faces.
"I shall bathe in your blood, human!" One of the grunts shouted before charging forward, weapon in hand, which most of his fellows mimicked.
Dalrus casually wiped the orc blood against the warlock's robes, then sheathed his blade. "Well, that'd be a fine idea, mate. Sadly…" He sidestepped the chaos grunt's wild swing, then tripped the brute under his feet, causing him to fall and skid along the floor. "I'm afraid we are all out of time, here! I suggest you take cover!" And with that said, Dalrus turned around and ran, stepping over the fallen grunt's back as he jumped over the edge of the cliff.
The chaos orcs all skidded to a halt, except for one particularly bloodthirsty grunt who actually jumped off the cliff after Dalrus. As the rogue fell through the air, he twisted himself to look at his chaser. "Huh." He said, before shadowstepping safely to the ground and breaking his fall completely. He didn't look back when his pursuer was completely squashed against the floor, but the sound made him wince. "Yikes."
And then the next thing he heard was the deafening sound of the bomb he had set up earlier going off, followed immediately after by the sound of every single other bomb stacked with it exploding as well. Dalrus looked up and saw scores of chaos orcs being launched in the air from the force of the blast, and he could only imagine how many more were simply blown to bits. "Well, everything went better than expected!" He happily said as he slapped his hands together a couple times to try and get some of the dirt off.
Moments after the bombs went off, Thrall and his forces arrived at the second orcish outpost. Thanks to Dalrus' efforts, the front gates had quite literally been blasted open, and the Horde's forces poured in like a flood, attacking the dazed Warsong orcs and quickly taking their second base with little issue.
After that, all that was left was the demonic altar that Grommash had built. Dalrus was really proud of their accomplishments here. 'Guess things are starting to look up for us!' Dalrus though, looking up.
The sky was on fire.