Chapter 44 - Twilight of the Gods - Part 1
A few hours later, the sun was high on the sky, and the moons were nowhere to be seen. The night elf, orc and human bases were all set up, with peons, grunts and wisps desperately doing everything in their power to reinforce their defensive structures and prepare for the upcoming battle.
Thrall, Malfurion and Tyrande were gathered near the human expedition base, as Dalrus could see from his position atop the watchtower. He saw Jaina teleport close to them, and the leaders had a brief discussion before Malfurion and Thrall left them. Tyrande and Jaina, along with a small group of night elf defenders returned to the human base. He saw them gather in the center of the base, and everyone gathered to listen to their final speech. But before they could have uttered a word, they heard a voice booming through the skies like the roar of a thunder:
"HEAR ME, NIGHT ELVES! THE TIME FOR RECKONING HAS COME!"
That voice was unlike anything Dalrus had heard before. He remembered Mannoroth's voice, like the gutural echoes coming from a deep, dark pit. This voice, however, managed to sound even more powerful and synyster than that. Dalrus had no doubt it belonged to Archimonde.
He saw an elven general approach Tyrande. "Priestess Tyrande, the undead have begun to construct a new settlement! It won't be long before they start attacking our allies!"
The priestess nodded. "Indeed. We shall do our part in this battle as well." She turned to face Jaina, who nodded as well, then turned to face her troops. "This is it! Today, we make our final stand! Remember, our purpose here is not to defeat our foes, but to delay them! The trap is being set as we speak! We must buy time for our allies to spring it upon Archimonde as he makes his way towards the summit!"
Wyrmbane trotted forward then, atop his armored warhorse. "We have all come a long way here. We lost our homes, our families, our land… And now, these foul demons have chased us here, to the roof of the world, to claim our lives. But I say, WE SHALL DENY THEM! TODAY, WE FIGHT FOR OUR FUTURE! FOR THE ALLIANCE!" He unsheathed his sword and held it aloft, and all the human expeditions warriors, mages, sharpshooters and engineers cheered with him.
Dalrus climbed down from the watchtower. He wasn't much of a sniper, anyway. The human expedition forces had dug several trenches on the path leading to their base, with spikes set up to keep the enemies away as the defenders delivered punishment onto the attackers. He'd be a better asset on the ground level.
He felt oddly calm as he beheld the road leading up to them. He could almost see the undead base that was built overnight, just outside siege weapon range. The blight was spread all over the floor, and the mighty dark citadels were floating high in the air, spewing toxic green fluids from the sides as the acolytes summoned up more and more monstrosities to attack them with.
"Dalrus?" He heard a familiar voice calling him from behind. Turning around, he was pleasantly surprised to see the face of Lyaera, the night elf ranger he had rescued during the Warsong attack on Ashenvale.
"Hey, what a nice surprise!" He said, turning around to face her with a smile. "Glad to see you made it back, after all."
She gave him a shy smile, and nodded. "Yes… Thanks to you. Cenarius saw that I was safely returned to my people… Before he… Well…"
Dalrus nodded at that. "Yeah, I know. Shame we can't count on him today, but… Well, things will go different this time. At least we don't to worry about a bunch of crazy red orcs, am I right?"
She chuckled. "I suppose… Ahem." She cleared her throat, then stepped forward. She was clutching tightly on a large wooden bow, which she held nervously against her chest. "Listen, I… I wanted to thank you. Thank you… And apologize for the way I, and my sisters, and even Cenarius, treated you. I see now… That it was foolish to try to isolate ourselves from the rest of the world like this. It was very wise of our priestess to accept this alliance… And I am glad we can fight together, now."
Dalrus shot her a playful wink. "Hey, the feeling is very mutual, love. Tell you what… If the two of us make it out of this alive, how about we go out for a meal? My treat. Bet you never tried Gilnean ale before."
The elven woman smiled warmly at him, then tucked a strand of hair behind her long, long, long pointy ear. "I would be delighted to."
"Ever the ladykiller, eh, lad?"
Another familiar voice came from the side. Looking that direction, Dalrus almost missed the stout figure of Baelyn, the dwarven gryphon rider he had met the day he arrived on Kalimdor. Next to him was his brother Gaelyn, who had picked a fight with Dalrus that same day. "Ain't this a day for nice surprises. Glad to see you're still kickin'."
The old dwarf let out a hearty laugh. "Aye! It's a hundred years too early for me ta' be joining me ancestors, laddie! But as pleasant as that may be, I'm not the one who came here ta' speak ta' ye. Come on, ye lousy pile o' bones. Spill it!" And with that, Baelyn slapped his brother on the shoulder, pushing him forward.
The second dwarf launched a grumpy look to his brother, then stared back at Dalrus. "Aye, well… Since even the lass here was courteous enough to send an apology yer way, lad… Well, ye and that brother of yers have done your fair share of work around here, and… I suppose not all Gilneans are cowards." Baelyn elbowed him on the side. "Gah! Fine, fine! I'm sorry for those insults! I take 'em back. Cowards wouldn't be here now, fighting the fight like this."
Dalrus smiled down at him, his hands on his hips. "Apologies accepted, then. But I bet I can still kill more of those corpses than you."
This roused an eager look from both dwarves. "That a challenge, ye milk-drinking basterd? I'll shave off me beard if I don't slay at least ten more of those damned caracasses than ye and your elf friend together!"
The young rogue actually laughed at that. "Challenge accepted!" He happily said, sticking his hand out.
Gaelyn looked at his hand, then up at the human boy. Finally, the dwarf smiled as well, and they shook hands.
"Master Plaguefang! Oh, how wonderful to find you! I've been looking all over for you!" He heard yet another familiar voice calling out to him.
"Oh, Sticks, you're here just in time to-" Dalrus began saying before his eyes went wide and his jaw dropped.
With every step of his new mount, the gnome Sticks Hardbones was causing small quakes on the ground. All Dalrus could see of the little guy was his head, sticking out of a gigantic mechanical body that looked like one of the iron golems he helped defeat back in those caves within Stonetalon.
"Woah." Dalrus said, impressed. "Now that's some firepower you got there, buddy."
"The finest of gnomish engineering!" He proudly declared, placing his suit's mechanical hands upon its hips and pushing the chest out proudly. "The Mobile Exterminator Combat Havoc Armor is ready for battle!"
He could tell everyone else around him had their jaws hanging as well, especially Lyaera. "Well, now… If you want to go ahead and take them all for yourself, I promise I won't be mad."
He saw the little guy press something inside his cockpit, and he was ejected from his seat. He then climbed down along the sides of his suit, until he was on the ground. "Thank you, sir! But, well, what I came here to say, I mean, rather, I have something I wanted to give you!" And with that, he began to frantically search his many pockets, mumbling to himself until he pulled out what appeared to be a brass ball with a big red button in the middle. "Ta-daa! My latest invention! I'm sure it will be of good use to you, Master Plaguefang!"
Confused, Dalrus picked the little ball and tossed it up in the air a couple times. "And, ah… What does it d-" He began to say before getting tackled by the two dwarves and the gnome at the same time, the latter which grabbed the ball again.
"ARE YE DAFT, LAD? DON'T TOSS THAT BLOODY THING LIKE THAT! YER GONNA GET US ALL KILLED!" Gaelyn shouted as he squeezed the boy by the waist while his brother immobilized the young rogue's arm. Dalrus, who had his face planted on the ground, couldn't even speak in protest.
"M-master Plaguefang, please, be careful! The Brass Omega Magnum Ball is highly volatile, and if you accidentally press the red button, it could set it off prematurely!"
Dalrus managed to pull his face off the ground and spit some grass. "What?"
"That's a bomb, ye bleathering scooner! Now don't be throwing that thing like that, aye? Be careful with it, or ye could send is all into space!" Said Baelyn, who was already climbing off the boy. Dalrus spat some more grass and stood up, wiping the dirt off his jacket and pants.
"Geez, you could have just said so before giving it to me, then." He grumpily said as he picked up the ball up once more, much more carefully this time, and placed it on his belt. "So, what? I press the button, and it goes off?"
Sticks shook his head. "Nonono, after you press the button, the timer starts! It takes three seconds for it to explode. I call it the Holy Hand-"
"Yeah, that's grand, thanks Sticks." Dalrus cut him off as he looked around. Not too far from their base, was the undead base. He could swear he could barely make out what could only be Archimonde himself standing on a hill, watching them. At least, what he saw was a cyan smudge amidst a sea of black, green and purple. But then, said sea was starting to mobilize.
It was at that moment he heard Malfurion's words booming around them, as if the very trees were speaking with his voice: "To arms, my brethren! To arms, brave orcs and humans! Twilight falls - and the enemy awaits!"
"Here they come!" Wyrmbane shouted as he trotted forward, riding his warhorse with his sword unsheathed and held high. "Form ranks! Man the cannons! To arms, soldiers! Battle begins now!"
Baelyn and Gaelyn exchanged a meaningful, look then nodded at each other. Both dwarves brought their fingers up to their mouths and let out a sharp whistle. From the skies, two huge gryphons descended. The dwarves hopped onto their backs and strapped themselves to the saddles. "We'll be proving aerial support! Now, time to bash some heads, laddie! FOR KHAZ MODAN!" And with that, the riders flew off. Sticks quickly climbed onto his mechanical suit as well. "Here I go! Ready, Master Plaguefang?"
Dalrus took in a deep breath, and nodded. "Yeah… As ready as I'll ever be. Don't worry, Sticks. I'll watch your back." And then he turned to face Lyaera. "And I hope you'll watch mine too, this time."
The elf's expression was a firm one. He could still see fear in her eyes… The same fear he saw that day when the Warsong destroyed her forest and murdered her sisters. But that fear was being suppressed by fierce determination. "Tor ilisar'thera'nal." She said as she pulled out her bow and nocked an arrow to the string.
Dalrus had no idea what that meant, but he nodded at her all the same. And with that… The first undead assault wave charged at them.
Dalrus saw over twenty ghouls rushing at them, crawling on all fours over the ground like dogs as the monstrous nerubians ran after them.
"TAKE AIM!" Dalrus heard a dwarf yell out. Looking up, Dalrus noticed the watchtowers had been modified and armed with cannons, which were now taking aim at their attackers. "STEADY… FIRE!" There was a deafening blast from above, and Dalrus saw a shining projectile being shot from the cannon, arch through the air and fall onto the battlefield where the ghouls approached. There was an explosion, and Dalrus saw gorey bits being flung to all sides as at least two of the undead were blown to bits. But their companions did not even flinch, and continued to run forward.
"FIRE AT WILL!" The dwarven commander was shouting. "BLAST THESE MONSTERS TO HELL! DON'T LET ONE COME CLOSE! FIRE!" And with that, Dalrus saw not only one, but four towers begin a suppressive barrage of cannonfire, accompanied by dwarven mortar teams on the ground. At least half of the attacking force was decimated before even coming within range of the defender's ground weapons.
"FIRE AT WILL, LADDIES!" The dwarven commander shouted once more, and the air was filled with the sound of a dozen muskets firing their loads at the undead rush as the dwarven snipers and sharpshooters put their weapons to use.
"Andu-falah-dor!" Dalrus heard Tyrande suddenly cry out. And then the air above him was filled with the whistles of arrows flying through the air before arcing down and pouring over the remaining undead like a deadly rain. The night elf archers were just as precise as the dwarves with their ranged weapons, and from that initial attack wave, only a single ghoul managed to survive long enough to be put to the sword by Lord Wyrmbane himself.
"IS THIS ALL YOU CAN MUSTER, ABOMINATIONS?" Wyrmbane shouted as he waved his sword through the air. "IT WILL TAKE MORE THAN THAT TO SHAKE OUR SPIRIT!"
And then a loud, sinister voice boomed through the air. "Worry not, wretched mortal scum. This was but a small taste of what is yet to come. You and your pathetic allies will be joining that filth before long. And then you too shall be risen to serve me in undeath. And I shall take great pleasure in watching you writhe over the mud like the maggot you are."
Dalrus felt a terrible, sinister chill running along his spine. And he could tell everyone else around him was feeling uneasy as well. Then he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up… And to his surprise, he saw Hanton Crossford, one of the more veteran rogues there, along with Hilda - the strange woman who called Dalrus out on his corruption - and Darthardt, the scarred dwarf. Hilda was staring at him with very wide eyes and a creepy, satisfied smile on her face, as if she had just won a bet and was putting on a smug expression. It weirded him out.
"You ready for this, Dalrus?" Hanton said. "That was just to try us out. Now the real battle starts… And I suspect we will be joining the frontlines very soon."
Dalrus clenched his fists, then nodded. "Yeah… I'll do my part. Don't you worry about that." He said. His gaze then shifted to the other rogues. At that moment, he saw Lyafra, Tyssa and Fynne joining them as well, slipping through the crowds of soldiers like fish swimming through a heavy stream.
The elven captain had her hood pulled back. There was a surprisingly soft expression on her face as she watched the undead remains strewn across the battlefield. "So, here we are again, facing the undead to protect our greatest magical source… I fear this is a tad too familiar for us." There was a very sad tone in her voice. The elven twins had their masks on once more, so Dalrus couldn't tell what their expressions were… But he could sense the sorrow emanating from them. "But this time… We are not alone. Today, we all fight as one against the shadow." Lyafra then turned to face her team of rogues and scouts. "Whatever may happen today, I'd like to say… It was an honor to fight, and serve alongside you all. Ishnu-dal-dieb." And with that, she took a deep bow before them.
Dalrus could tell he was not the only one surprised by this. Everyone else was exchanging surprised glances, except for Hilda, who was still staring at Dalrus as if she intended to eat him and was afraid he might run off. "Come now, captain… Now is no time for that sort of talk. You speak as though you expect not to make it through the day." Hanton said with an awkward smile.
The elven captain stood tall once more, and her gaze shifted to the sun above. "Who knows what will happen today? All that matters… Is that we do our part. And should we meet our end… Let us do so without regrets to leave behind."
There was a deep, dark silence following her words. Dalrus was almost glad when Wyrmbane shouted: "HERE THEY COME AGAIN! CANNONS, READY!"
Dalrus saw that this time, the undead attack wave was accompanied by the hulking abominations. The cannon towers fired their deadly projectiles at them, but most of the fleshy monsters were durable enough to endure the cannonfire. And even as they came within range of their rifles and bows, only half of those monsters were killed before reaching the trenches along the road leading to the human base.
The dwarves and elves were forced to cease their ranged attacks, since the undead were now engaging the footsoldiers forming their first defensive line. "FOR LORDAERON!" Dalrus heard the soldiers shout as they unsheathed their swords and engaged the undead. Wyrmbane himself charged forward, his sword emitting a golden glow as he too joined the fray.
As ground combat began, Dalrus looked around. He noticed that several of the night elf wisps - strange spirits that looked like glowing balls of light with a face in the middle - were moving towards the trees surrounding the human base. It looked like they were entering the trees, and Dalrus could see a mystical energy enveloping them as they began to grow and thicken. He had no idea what was going on.
And then he heard the final death cries of the undead, and watched as the final attacker of that wave was beheaded. Not a single defender was dead yet.
The defenders were all cheering at their second successful defense without any losses. But Dalrus couldn't join them. He couldn't help but feel this was still just another test. The undead, and the Legion, were trying them. Checking out what the human defenders had to offer… And he feared the real attack had not even started yet.
That is, until the third attack wave.
It began just like the previous ones - large numbers of ground forces trying to rush them. But just as the cannon towers were already preparing to fire at them, he heard a bone-chilling screech from above.
Dalrus looked up just in time to see a gigantic bat swoop down from the skies and crash into the tower. Still screeching, the monstrosity attempted to enter the tower from the cannon hole. The result was the creature's entire upper half was blown off as the cannon fired.
But then over a dozen more gargoyles attacked, flying around the cannon towers and attempting to disable them.
"ARCHERS! SNIPERS! SHOOT DOWN THOSE THINGS! AERIAL FORCES, FORWARD!" Wyrmbane was screaming as he waved at his troops. Immediately, the dwarven snipers and elven archers shifted their focus to the aerial onslaught.
But that meant their suppressive ranged barrage was almost gone now. The ground forces barely suffered any losses as they reached the trenches. The warriors let out their warcries, and the air was filled with the sounds of the defenders engaging the undead attackers.
"We got to help them!" Dalrus was saying as he began running forward, followed by a choking noise as Hanton grabbed the boy by the back of his shirt. "Not yet, boy. Our moment will come soon… This is just a distraction. Their real attack will begin shortly, just wait and see."
Dalrus bit on his lip nervously. Truly, the gargoyles stood no chance against the elven archers and dwarven shooters, but the warriors on the ground were the ones suffering. Temporarily deprived of their ranged support, Dalrus watched as suddenly there were human dead bodies among the undead now. The ghouls, abominations and nerubians were being cut down, but now they could no longer boast there were no losses on their side. Eventually, that attack wave, too, was repelled… But this time, the undead weren't the only ones lying motionless on the ground.
And now, there wasn't any time for them to recover. Immediately after that wave, Dalrus saw another one was already moving forward. This time, however, Dalrus noticed the undead siege weapons - meat wagons, grotesque machines that worked like catapults loaded with corpses. And accompanying them, Dalrus saw the necromancers, wizards who had sold their souls to the Legion in exchange for dark and terrible powers over death. Dalrus watched as the meat wagons stopped just outside the range of the cannon towers, right in the middle of the battlefield… And began launching their horrific projectiles at the defenders. Dalrus saw gore and blood raining along the arc of the meat wagon's load as it flew towards its target, and it hit with deadly precision. It hit the cannon tower right over its roof, and Dalrus saw several tiles getting blown off. It held off for now, but if the undead siege weapons were allowed to continue their assault, their defenses would be destroyed before long.
"DESTROY THE MEAT WAGONS! FORWARD, WARRIORS! IT IS NOW THAT THE TRUE BATTLE BEGINS! FOR THE LIGHT!" Wyrmbane cried out, rallying the soldiers to him as he lead them forward to meet the undead.
"Now is our cue." Lyafra suddenly said. "While Wyrmbane distracts them, we must sneak around the battlefield and take out their backline."
"Understood." Hanton said as he pulled up his hood, an action that was mimicked by almost everyone else. Dalrus instinctively reached up to do the same, then realized he wasn't wearing a cloak.
And with that, as the death throes of humans, elves, dwarves, gnomes and undead rang through the air, Dalrus and his team entered the battlefield, with the mission of destroying the undead siege weapons and disrupting their mages. Only ten minutes had passed since the first attack wave.