Chapter 39 - Enemies at the Gate

Felrus dreamt he was running.

Running, as fast as he could. Claws outstretched before him, his mighty shoulders heaving each time his paws touched the ground and propelled him forward, his nostrils flaring up to catch the scent of his prey. His lips peeled back in a grin of anticipation, exposing rows of sharp canine fangs. His fur protected him from the cold wind running all over his massive body, and he ran, ran and ran, until finally he reached what he chased.

He could smell their fear. He could hear their erratic heartbeat. His hunger grew, as did his eagerness. Felrus leapt, claws outstretched, fangs wide open as his victim turned around and screamed in terror.

Blood, warm, delicious poured into his mouth. It filled him with exhilaration. He was Felrus Plaguefang, the Blood Knight. This was his prey. This was his victory. This was who he was…

With a scream, Felrus woke up, drenched in sweat. His fellow soldiers jumped from their beds, scrambling for their weapons as they looked around. Felrus heard the voice of his friend Stanley who had ridden on the boat alongside him to Kalimdor, and now was a member of the team he led. "What? What's going on? We under attack, captain?" He asked, confused.

Felrus shook his head. "No, no, I…" He was shaking. He closed his eyes and tried to wipe some of the sweat that threatened to blind him. "I'm sorry, I… I had a nightmare."

It had been a full day since they left their main outposts and marched towards their new base within Ashenvale forest. Felrus had been introduced to a company of 10 human men who would all be serving under him. They had found a nice spot to start building their base, along with their orc allies, and quickly began working. The moons weren't even high in the sky before they had set up a keep and barracks for the soldiers. Come the morrow, they would be setting out to hunt down the straggling demons who had been unleashed in Mannoroth's wake.

The soldiers were grunting among themselves now. "Get a hold of yourself, Captain Plaguefang. How are we meant to fight tomorrow if we can't catch a wink of sleep?" Stanley said, grumpily rubbing his eyes.

Felrus sighed, then turned around on his bed and stood up. "You're right, I apologize. I'll take my leave and… Do some patrolling." He declared, picking up his greatsword and shield and stepping out of their sleeping quarters. He was still wearing his armor, as he always did. These days, it just wasn't safe anymore to remove it… Not with the way the white fur spread further and further along his body.

Felrus feared that in less than a week, he'd be covered from head to toe in it. His entire right arm looked like it belonged to a bear rather than a human. He had to clip his nails every day now, otherwise they'd grow into sharp claws overnight once more. The fur covered his chest, and it threatened to push up above his collar. To make things worse, he could swear he was starting to feel a stub growing down below on his bottom…

'Light help me. I'm really turning into one of them.' He thought as he waved at the night guards. The two moons were very high on the cloudless sky tonight, casting their silver light upon them. Looking up at those moons made Felrus' heart race within his chest, and his blood rush. Like an urge, telling him to go, to seek prey, to hunt…

"Plaguefang?" Felrus looked around. The one calling out to him was none other than the paladin commander, Duke Lionheart himself. "What are you doing out so late? You have an early day tomorrow."

Felrus sighed. "Forgive me sir, I…" He unconsciously gripped at his fuzzy arm, which was completely hidden by the thick, heavy armor he wore. "I'm afraid my dreams won't let me have any rest."

He saw Duke Lionheart's eyes grow a tad more gentle. The paladin walked up to him, and placed a hand upon Felrus' shoulder. "You have been through much, son. It is normal to be plagued by your past battles in your dreams. I've seen older and more experienced men than you succumb to the night terrors. Come, a walk will help you calm down."

Felrus could only nod at that. They began to move towards the edge of their camp, however, the paladin suddenly stopped and turned around. "Excuse me for a moment, I'll be with you shortly." And then he walked back towards the center of the camp where the orcs and humans were busy working together to build up their base as Felrus watched, curious. The paladin raised his voice and shouted out: "Put your backs into it! Jaina and the orc warchief expect this base to be built swiftly!"

He saw one of the human warriors, who was standing guard beside one of the orc grunts, launch a sideways glance at the paladin and say: "Bah! We shouldn't even be here! Or siding with the orcs."

Felrus felt a tension building up inside of him. Before he could say anything, the orc next to the guard spoke up: "We're here to hunt the remaining demons, human. You're lucky our goals are the same."

'Oh, this could be bad.' Felrus thought, already starting to move towards the two disgruntled guards. But then Duke Lionheart was speaking once more.

"All right, you men! Mind your business! Back to work!" And he scowled at the two guards, who unhappily went back to manning their posts and keeping watch towards the woods that surrounded them, and the path leading to a shallow river not far from their stations.

Felrus sighed at that. Things could have gotten a lot worse. He saw Duke Lionheart walk back towards him with an apologetic smile. "Pardon the delay, lad. Shall we be going?"

"Yes, sir." Felrus said, accompanying the paladin away from their hastily erected buildings and into the beautiful trees that surrounded them.

He was glad. The young warrior had never experienced such pure, clean air in his life. Silverpine Forest couldn't begin to compare to this one. It helped calm him down.

The paladin guided Felrus to the shores of the small lake not too far from their camp. It was barely a stream, so short they could have walked over it and the water wouldn't have reached their knees. For one, it was ideal for gathering water. The downside was that it provided very poor protection against potential attackers.

Across the lake before them, Felrus could see more of the beautiful trees that filled their forest. A stag was currently slaking its thirst on the clear waters. It didn't seem to mind the newcomers as they approached. "A beautiful place, isn't it, lad?" Duke Lionheart said.

Felrus nodded. "The forests back in the Eastern Kingdoms couldn't hold a candle to this." He said.

Duke Lionheart turned to face him. "Tell me, son. How many summers have you seen in your life?"

"Next will be my twentieth, sir." He answered, still watching the stag across the river.

The paladin nodded. "Not too much older than I was when I began to serve my order." He looked up towards the sky. "Tell me about your dreams, son. What was making you so afraid you'd wake your fellow soldiers?"

Felrus' hand instinctively went for his shoulder yet again. "I…" He began to say, trying to think of a proper explanation. "I dreamt… I was becoming a beast, sir. One who reveled in death and carnage… One who could kill without remorse." He shook his head. "Sir, my whole life… I had never even killed another person. Not until we met the orcs… And even then, I've only performed my duties as a soldier. I killed the orcs who were attacking us, to protect myself, and my fellow soldiers…" He closed his eyes and lowered his head. "I've killed demons and undead before, as well… But…"

"But it still weighs on your conscience." The paladin said. "Do you regret what you've done, son? Do you wish you could have spared your foes?"

Felrus sighed, then opened his eyes again. The stag was now staring at them, curious. "I… I don't know. The orcs I spoke with said they don't resent me for killing the warriors who attacked us. They told me it's an honor to die in battle with weapon in hand against a worthy foe… And I was also told that when the undead are killed, their souls are freed from their bodies, and they are allowed to pass on to the afterlife. And then… There are the demons…" He shook his head. "I keep telling myself that it's all different because every life I've taken was inhumane. That it was a monster, threatening our homes, but… What if I become numb to this feeling? What if one day I can end the life of a man, a woman or a child, and feel nothing? What if I become the same as…" He stopped himself.

"The same as Arthas?" The Duke softly asked. Felrus looked away in shame. "Aye… I heard the story, lad. You were among his company, were you not? You witnessed the carnage of Stratholme."

Felrus said nothing for a few seconds. "Sir, I…"

"You have nothing to be ashamed of." Duke Lionheart cut him short. "You did as a soldier would, at the time. You believed in your prince, you followed him to do what you thought was right. But when you were faced with the grim reality of that terrible task… You understood what the truly right thing to do was." Felrus looked at him, surprised. "You were not the only one to desert Arthas that day. Many soldiers left him, some of which are among our ranks today. I heard all the tales. Even our former leader, Lord Uther the Lightbringer, couldn't accompany the mad prince into that hell."

Felrus' face twisted into an expression of anguish. "I… I can never forget what happened that day. I saw innocent people… I saw peasants, people who probably never wielded anything larger than a rake or a shovel in their hands before, fighting for their survival. They were all living their peaceful lives as farmers, bakers, carpenters, hunters… I saw their lives end, I saw their pain, their suffering at the hands of the scourge. And at the hands of their own prince."

The paladin listened to Felrus intently. "Tis a cruel world that we live in. I, too, have borne witness to the suffering of the innocent. And I decided to dedicate my life to protecting them. To protect the weak and the innocent, to uphold justice and virtue. And I can see that you, too, have made this same decision, young Plaguefang."

Felrus turned to face him. "How do you do it, sir? How can you bear the guilt, the pain?"

The Duke smiled at that. "We, paladins, take vows, my boy. We pledge ourselves to the Light, and to uphold its ideals. We believe in something. We understand that we cannot save everyone… But that is no reason to ever stop trying. To err is human, to fail is a chance all living things are subjected to. And it is through our failures, through our stumbles, our falls, that we learn to grow, to stand on our own once more."

Felrus was now staring at his own hands, the silver light of the moons reflecting off his dusty gauntlets. "But what if I lose sight? What if… I end up becoming a beast?"

Duke Lionheart placed a hand upon Felrus' shoulder once more, and he looked up to meet the paladin's gaze. "The very fact that you ask yourself these questions, that you feel guilt within your heart and regret the lives you've taken… That's the ultimate proof that you're a human, son. I have no doubt that Arthas felt nothing as he put his own people to sword and flame. A beast is one who can kill without any sorrow or regret. But so long as you feel this pain, so long as you remind yourself that every life, even that of an orc, has a weight… Then you can be certain that you'll remain who you are." He chuckled. "You would have made a fine paladin, son."

Those words brought great comfort to him. Felrus finally smiled, then stood up straight. "Thank you, sir… Truly."

He nodded. "I tell you this, Plaguefang… Because I believe you have the potential to rise within our ranks. You're a man of action, a man of initiative. You don't hesitate to take the first step, and lead through example. That is why you were chosen for that promotion. And perhaps one day, you can rise even further and lead entire armies. "

Felrus found himself overwhelmed by those words. "T-thank you, sir! I… I don't know what to say…"

Duke Lionheart took a step back, then nodded. "I mean it, lad. I can see great potential in you. And I'm certain that given enough time, that brother of yours will grow into a fine asset for us as well."

This caused Felrus to falter. "I… I apologize for his behavior, sir. He is still young and lacks discipline…"

The old paladin chuckled. "I've seen plenty of his type before. All we need is a proper way to focus his talents. What he lacks is experience, and discipline. Both these things can only be earned with time. Come now, let us return." And with that, the two of them began to make their way back to their base.

Felrus looked up towards the moons once more, pondering. The effects of his worgen bite were steadily growing… Soon, it'd grow too big for him to hide it. He feared he knew what his dreams meant, and that his time was running out. He could only wish that he'd hold out long enough to fulfill his duty in this war before losing himself to the monster growing inside of him…

So distracted Felrus was by his conscience, he almost failed to pick up the new scent that shifted towards their direction along with the change in the wind.

Felrus froze.

Duke Lionheart stopped and looked over his shoulder. "Is something amiss, lad?"

Felrus sniffed the air a couple of times, then raised his fist.

"Blood." He said, narrowing his eyes.

The old paladin turned around fully. "What did you say?"

Felrus sniffed the air once more. "No… Worse… GET DOWN!" He leapt forward and tackled the paladin, just in time save him from getting punctured by no less than five arrows that whistled past their heads through the air.

They both collapsed to the ground, but quickly scurried to their feet as they ran back towards their camp. "RAISE THE ALARM!" Felrus was shouting. "WE ARE UNDER ATTACK!" More arrows were being shot as they ran, most missing, a couple bouncing off their thick armor. Thank the heavens both Felrus and the Duke had the habit of always wearing it, specifically for situations such as these.

They heard a female voice shout behind them. "Bandu thoribas, mortals! You will pay for defiling these lands!" Suddenly the night was filled with the sound of the rallying cries of dozens of women, and they all began to emerge from the trees that surrounded them. "You outlanders will answer for Cenarius' death! Anada Felra!"

These women were almost as dark as the night that gave them cover. They were exceptionally tall - as tall as Felrus himself had grown to be - and all wore light leather armor and were armed with bows and arrows. Their skin were varying tones of violet, and their eyes shone in the darkness like the stars in the night above. They were still letting loose their arrows upon the warrior and paladin as they ran.

The sentries on their watchtowers were already shooting their own projectiles back at the attackers, trying to provide some cover for them. However, Felrus saw as one of the defenders on their tower suddenly fell, three arrows sticking out of his chest. These women were exceptionally skilled archers, even in the dark of the night.

Felrus was suddenly reminded of what his brother had said upon coming back.

'Yeah, they were definitely elves. Not like the ones we know, though. Call themselves "night elves", and you wouldn't believe HOW HUGE THEIR BLOODY EYEBROWS WERE!"

And then he had gone on a ten minute rant questioning why would anyone let their eyebrows grow that long.

Felrus was pulled out from his reminiscing when an arrow hit him on the shoulder with enough force to dent his armor. His hands were up and covering his head, which he was bending low to try and protect himself. When would he learn to put his helmet on before heading out?

Finally, the two of them reached the gates of their camp. The orcs and humans there were already picking up their arms and preparing for the upcoming battle. "Commander!" A human captain was saying as he ran forward. "What's going on? Those aren't demons!"

"They are the night elves!" Felrus was the one to speak. "They are natives to this land, and think us trespassers! We need to find a way to appease them, and speak to their leaders!"

"There's no time for that, Plaguefang!" Duke Lionheart was saying. "We must defend ourselves!" He then raised his voice to be hard across their entire base. "TO ARMS, MEN! DEFEND YOURSELVES! THE ENEMY HIDES UNDER THE COVER OF DARKNESS!"

The alarm bell rang on the human keep, and warning shouts came from the orcish hutts. The human peasants ran to their base and immediately picked up weapons, shields and armor from the racks within as the orc peons began to enter their burrows and start tossing spears at their attackers from the safety of their bunkers.

As the night elf attackers approached, Felrus could see them more clearly. Leading the attack was an elegant woman riding atop an enormous albino feline, armed with a bow and a quiver of arrows on her back. Her armor was of a beautiful silver that shone as the moons above, and she was letting loose arrows enveloped in magical flames at Duke Lionheart as she shouted out: "I am the justice of Elune! The goddess' wrath is inflatable!"

Felrus had no idea what that meant, but he knew he had to fight back. He was about to meet the attackers head-on when suddenly, a new creature appeared.

The monster was twice Felrus' height, and it looked like a bear standing on its hindlegs, wearing a rugged-looking loincloth and feathered amulets around its neck and wrists. Felrus had come across these creatures before; they were a form of local wildlife called 'furbolgs'. Though this one was definitely larger and stronger than any he had ever seen before. The creature apparently fought alongside the elves, as they avoided shooting him as the creature began mauling at the orc and human defenders.

With a mighty warcry, Felrus charged at the furbolg and slammed at the creature with his shield. Caught by surprise, the furbolg was momentarily stunned. Clearly the beast didn't expect anyone to attack it like that. Felrus took a swing with his blade, and carved a gash across the monster's chest. The cut was clean, but shallow. The furbolg sported very thick hide, as thick as a boar. The claws alone weren't particularly sharp, but the strength the beast possessed made them very effective. It let out a fierce howl of pain, and tried to rake Felrus with its claws. The warrior lifted his shield just in time to parry a blow so strong, he was pushed down to his knees.

An orc warrior, inspired by Felrus' bravery, surged forward and took a swing at the furbolg. The creature blocked the axe with its arm, then slapped the orc across the face. Felrus saw a red spray, and when the orc fell down, all Felrus saw was a skull covered in blood, his face ripped off from his head.

With blood dripping from its claws, the furbolg roared at Felrus and attacked him once more. The warrior snarled like a hungry wolf, and ducked under that swinging furry arm so he could stab his greatsword at the monster's leg. He saw blood and fur fly through the air, and the creature screamed in pain yet again, dropping to one knee as blood dripped from the deep wound it took to the inner thigh.

Felrus ducked and rolled between the monster's legs, and stood up behind it. Dropping his shield to the ground, he raised his sword up high with both arms, then brought it against the furbolg's right shoulder with all his strength. It felt like trying to cut through oak with a blunt axe. His sword practically bounced off that incredibly thick pelt, but he could see blood emerge from the wound. The creature tried to get up, but Felrus climbed over its back and forced it to the ground with his weight. Screaming like a feral animal, Felrus brought his sword down again and again against the same spot, using his blade like a woodsman bringing down a tree. The furbolg howled and trashed under him, and eventually it threw Felrus aside.

The warrior rolled up to his feet, sword in hand, and half a liter of the Furbolg's blood covering his face and armor. 'Great, now this damn "Blood Knight" nickname will haunt me forever.' He bitterly thought as he watched his foe rise to its feet. The furbolg was bloodied and gravely injured, but there was no fear or hesitation in its dark little eyes. Truly, that monster was a champion of its race.

The warrior and the beast stared at each other as the battle raged around them, elves, humans and orcs fighting, shouting and dying. And then, with one final roar, Felrus and the furbolg charged at each other one last time.

The creature arched its back and spread its arms wide. Then, it brought down both arms in a wide sweeping motion, impossible for Felrus to block or roll under.

The warrior, however, raised both his arms and tossed his sword like a spear at the monster. His weapon flew through the air and lodged into the furbolg's chest.

The beast stopped and looked down as it howled in pain. Felrus, however, continued to charge forward, using his momentum to slam against the sword's pommel and drive the weapon through the furlbog's chest, impaling the creature all the way through the other side.

With that, the monster fell on its back and died. Felrus pulled his sword free - with some effort - and took a few seconds to recover his breath as he scanned the battlefield.

What he saw made his heart sink.

The night elf leader was fighting Duke Lionheart. Every swing from his warhammer struck only empty air as the elf swiftly evaded his blows. Felrus counted six arrows sticking out of the paladin's body, and he was clearly fatigued. Finally, he slammed his shoulder against the white feline the elf was riding, and she appeared to lose balance. With a victorious shout, Duke Lionheart swung his hammer.

Only for the elf to leap high into the air, above the paladin, and shoot three arrows at the same time at the back of his head.

Duke Lionheart's corpse fell to the ground, blood gushing from his wounds.

"DUKE LIONHEART!" Felrus shouted, running at the fallen paladin's body… When suddenly the wind shifted, blowing in their direction once more.

And he gagged. His hand immediately came up to cover his nose, that scent hitting him so hard that he stumbled and fell to his knees. A very familiar scent, increased a thousandfold thanks to his heightened sense of smell.

'No… That's impossible… There's no way they could be here!'

Felrus felt a hand on his shoulder. Looking up, he saw Stanley's face through the thin slit of his helmet. "Captain, there's too many of them! The Duke is dead! What the bloody hells do we do?"

Felrus tried to get back up, but that smell, that horrid, mind-numbing stench was still hitting him like a punch to the face. With his heightened senses, he could perceive it far better, and far earlier than anyone else.

'But how…? Why? When did they…" He couldn't speak, as he was gagging heavily and threatened to hurl on the floor. He felt Stanley's hand squeeze and shake him. "Captain Plaguefang, get a hold of yourself! What's wrong!? Were you poisoned?"

Felrus shook his head. "S-Stanley… They…" He was hit by a violent coughing fit, the smell hitting him once more. The smell of rot, decay, carrion… The smell of death. "They are… Here…"

Confused, the soldier used both hands to help Felrus stand back up. "Who is here? What are you talking about?" He asked, looking worried through the tiny visor in his helmet.

Felrus tried to speak… Tried to explain… But all he could do was point over Stanley's shoulder. The man turned around.

From the woods behind them, more creatures appeared. Gigantic spiders with stitched limbs crawled forward, and beneath them, rotting ghouls ran on all fours like beasts, rushing towards their camp. Not far behind were the hulking abominations, monsters consisting of several corpses stitched up together, with a trail of acidic stomachal juices spilling from those hideous holes in their bellies.

"Light help us… They are here…" Stanley whispered, his eyes growing wide.

Felrus, however, was shaking his head. "It's not just them…" He then pointed up.

Both men stared up at the sky once more. The two moons had been covered by dark, swirling clouds. But that was not the reason Felrus had pointed up.

The sky was on fire.

'Oh, Dalrus…' Felrus thought. 'I hope you're safe…'

He heard one of those elven arches speak: "Elune save us! The dead advance in waves!"

Their commander was just as surprised. "Quickly, my sisters, back to the trees! We are no match for a force this vast."

He heard the human soldiers screaming. The orcish warriors were bellowing their battlecries, ready to fight until the end. Duke Lionheart was still dead on the floor not too far from them, and up above, Felrus could already hear that familiar roar as the flaming green meteors began falling from the sky, signaling but one thing.

The Undead Scourge had arrived on Kalimdor.