Chapter 28
Three days later …
Sylvanas glared at the gates to the ruined capital city of Lordaeron from her vantage point on the top of the hill just north of it. They had not been barricaded, nor were there any visible defences on the ramparts. Before her, near one hundred orcs sat on the ground waiting for the signal that the attack was about to begin.
After her fortuitous escape from her rebelling city to Brill, and then to Orgrimmar, she had been initially greeted and surrounded by very angry Horde forces and escorted to see the warchief. She was subsequently told of the true scale of what had occurred.
The battle at the Wrathgate had proceeded well, and even succeeded in forcing the Lich King onto the field of battle. It was at that point that things went horribly wrong. Putress, who had been stationed on a precipice along with the cure for the blight, had instead used his position to attack. Horde, Alliance and Scourge alike had fallen in catastrophic numbers to the new plague he had rained down on their heads.
A plague she had ordered into existence. A plague she had secretly positioned with the blight's cure.
It was meant to only ever be used as a last desperate act to kill Arthas if the battle happened along the lines of Alyna's warnings. She had not anticipated a traitor. She had never contemplated any of her own people using it to indiscriminately massacre near ten thousand troops.
Unless you ordered them to.
She acknowledged the voice. There was a time not so long ago when she would have absolutely ordered such a thing if it meant killing Arthas. But that would have resulted in her people being destroyed in revenge, and she had realised she could not let that happen. There was to be more to this existence for the Forsaken once Arthas was dead, and she had stepped back from her own personal precipice.
And so, she had fought hard before the warchief to convince him she had nothing to do with what Putress had done. Varimathras almost killing her had actually done her a favour in this regard, acting as proof that she was their enemy and had not directed them to slaughter thousands. Had there ever been a cure? Yes, she will voluntarily hand it all over to the Horde. Did she know about the new plague? Of course not, she was just as shocked as they were.
The best lies are those hidden amongst the most honest truths.
The warchief interrupted her thoughts as he appeared at her side. "Hrmph. I do not like this, Sylvanas. This feels … unconventional."
She agreed, but nothing about the entire situation had ever been conventional. "We can expect them to use this new plague against us, Warchief. From the looks of it, they intend to even rely on it."
The orc grunted his agreement. "Then it is a good thing we all carry gasmasks."
The queen was not so sure that would be enough. "We still want to avoid any prolonged contact with it. Reports from the Wrathgate are calling it more than mildly acidic."
She felt the angry glare the warchief gave her at her dispassionate reference to the massacre, but it was something he needed to know. He snorted his derision. "We have heroes here who survived the Wrathgate, Sylvanas. Be mindful of that."
The queen lowered her eyes, bowed her head a touch and replied tightly, "Of course, Warchief."
The orc left her side to start rallying those gathered. "Heroes of the Horde, your Warchief calls! Gather behind me at the gates of the Undercity! Soon we march upon our fallen city and reclaim it - FOR THE HORDE!"
As those assembled returned the battle cry, Sylvanas felt a new presence at her side.
"Your orders, Dark Lady?"
The queen turned to regard Kyala, one of only a handful of dark rangers she had been permitted to bring. Thrall had feared there were still traitors around and had forbidden her military from taking part in liberating their own city. She had disagreed strongly. She wanted her people to have a hand in reclaiming their city, but she had been overruled.
"Stay with me and keep your eyes open for signs of Alyna." She had tried to guess at Alyna's reasoning for staying behind in the city and had failed. In the end, she had decided to trust her captain's instincts with a leap of faith. And her heart. But faith had not stopped her from worrying about the woman's safety.
Kyala bowed her head and waved over the other four dark rangers. Sylvanas looked back at the orcs taking up their positions in a battle formation. The queen checked her weapons one last time, including a certain runeblade she had sheathed across her back that Kyala had secured before evacuating Undercity. As she did so, she could hear Thrall trying to raise the Horde's bloodlust.
"Blood and thunder, champions of the Horde! We fight on this day for our fallen brothers and sisters! Mourn them not for they all died with honour in their hearts!" The warriors roared their approval. Sylvanas glared at the walls of the city resolutely. "Though we face great conflict, our might combined shall obliterate those who would oppose us! The grave injustices committed against the Horde will be met by an unstoppable force of reckoning!"
Sylvanas narrowed her eyes angrily. A reckoning was indeed about to be had. She just wished it came with fewer speeches. She strode purposefully down the hill as the war horns sounded, her dark rangers close behind. She was forbidden to field her own army, but Horde be damned if she was about to let an orc lead a force into her city. She locked her eyes with Thrall's to see if he would challenge her right on this, and he wisely backed down.
The Banshee Queen spun on her heel and started walking to the dilapidated gates. Behind, Thrall cried, "ONWARD!"
She had not taken many steps before her keen hearing picked up activity on the other side of the gatehouse. Wordlessly, she put on her gasmask, her actions repeated in turn by those behind her.
A silky green mist began to roll silently into view. Thrall wasted no time in dealing with the threat, stepping forward to beseech the elements.
"Great wind brother, clear our path!"
The cloak Sylvanas wore began to flap lightly, and then whip around her body as the wind obeyed the shaman. Small whirlwinds formed at the gates before rushing through the gatehouse, clearing the plague that had been deployed. Under her mask, she raised an eyebrow. While the queen knew Thrall was a competent shaman, she rarely saw him use his connection to the elements.
They pressed forward into the courtyard beyond the gate. On each side, steps rose up leading to other parts of the ruined city, and the queen eyed the platforms at their tops warily, an arrow nocked and ready to fire.
As they slowly inched forward into the courtyard, a portal opened before them and Varimathras stepped out. Everyone raised their weapons, ready to fight.
The dreadlord sneered from his safe distance. "Welcome to my kingdom of darkness! Did you enjoy my minion's terrible creation, Warchief? Potent, is it not? But enough prattling! You wish to reclaim your city? Come then, Windrunner! Your soul will fuel the host! You will have this place back in pieces!"
As the demon retreated into another portal, a barrel smashed down in the middle of the courtyard. Sylvanas looked up to see more plague-filled barrels being hurled towards them. "Get to higher ground!" she commanded.
Thrall stepped forward once more and used the elements to keep clearing concentrations of the plague as his troops split into two groups, ascending the stairs each side of the courtyard.
When Sylvanas reached the top of her own set, she snarled at a Forsaken female and fired her arrow at the woman at close range. Other rebels charged at her, some seemingly protecting a catapult being loaded with more barrels.
"Dispose of these traitors!" she snarled, sending her dark rangers and the orcs who had followed her into motion.
With her bladed bow, the queen hacked viciously at the first rebel to reach her. She then ripped his off gasmask and kicked him off the level into the plagued courtyard below. Dropping the mask, she loaded an arrow and fired at the operator of the catapult, splitting his skull. With that done, the queen swapped her bow for a pair of swords for the close quarters fighting. Normally the cool and detached archer, she allowed herself to enjoy the simple brutality that came with swordplay and the personal touch it gave as she slaughtered those who had betrayed her people.
Betrayed her.
When the areas each side of the courtyard were cleared and the catapults rendered inoperable, Sylvanas remained on the upper level watching Thrall as he cleared the last vestiges of the plague. Out of habit, she found herself noting his considerable strengths, and his weaknesses. It was useful to know what your allies could do. She also knew your allies could one day become your enemies.
Another portal opened in the centre of the courtyard and out of it stepped a giant creature the likes of which Sylvanas had not seen before. It had clearly been created by Putress, but it was not something he had ever informed her of. The aberration had a torso of flesh, but its hands and legs were forged from metal. Numerous pipes went in, out and around its body, even replacing its face. Green fluid flowed through each pipe, appearing to feed a giant needle protruding from where its right hand would be.
"By the Ancestors, what is that?" cried Thrall, alternatively looking between the blight aberration and Sylvanas.
She could only shrug as she swapped back to her bow. "I do not know, Warchief. But I know its fate." She raised her bow and channelled her magic into her arrow. Shadows swirled around the tip and she released it at the creature's thick neck. The arrow dug deeply into flesh.
It got no reaction at all from the aberration as it focused on the noise of the orcs arrayed before it, suggesting it had no concept of pain. It stomped slowly towards them and lifted the needle into the air. It squirted the green liquid haphazardly and the soldiers tried to avoid getting splashed. The unlucky ones failed and screams of pain split the air as the concentrated plague ate away their flesh. Where the fluid hit the ground, it became a sickly gas.
Thrall raised his hammer and pointed at the aberration. "Attack! Do not break those pipes!"
Sylvanas turned to Kyala, assuming the lieutenant had also seen her cursed arrow have no effect. "Suggestions?"
The dark ranger gave her queen a one shouldered shrug. "It's a pity we don't have a flamethrower."
"Explain," the queen snapped, not unkindly but out of the need for expediency.
Kyala gestured at the aberration. "It's probably made using the same techniques used for the other flesh things the apothecaries create. Most of them fail, and they always keep a flamethrower nearby in case they run out of control. Flesh melts. No flesh, no creature."
"So, we need a hot fire," Sylvanas summarised. She looked around as the orcs below ran the creature in circles, mainly acting as a distraction as their weapons clanged uselessly off its metal legs. She spied the catapult and shifted towards it. "Move the catapult into the courtyard. Now."
The whip of command induced the orc soldiers still with her into action. They quickly pushed the catapult to the edge of their level and over the side. It did not have far to fall, but the wood it was made from still split loudly on impact.
"Warchief!" Sylvanas tried to get Thrall's attention, busy as he was trying to keep the courtyard clear of the plague. "Set the wood alight! We must melt this aberration!"
Hearing her words, Thrall called to the element of fire, and he was rewarded by a spark catching hold of the wood. As it began to burn hotter, the warchief ordered his soldiers to all move to where Sylvanas was.
The queen turned to those behind her. "Find what you can to add to the fire." She gestured at the rebel bodies. "Throw them on too." She thought it poetic their corpses would help defeat their master's creation.
Taking the bait, the aberration turned to the sound made by its prey. With no sight, and likely less sense, it had no concept of stairs and kept walking into the wall. It stood in the fire that was slowly made hotter, its metal fixings eventually starting to glow a faint orange. It took time, but Sylvanas and Thrall carefully coordinated their forces to keep the creature in place. When it tried to spray them with liquid, they could now reach the arm and they knocked it away, with Thrall using the elements to disperse the gaseous form of the plague.
Eventually, the flesh of the aberration began to melt rapidly once it reached a critical temperature. When it finally dropped to its knees and collapsed into the fire, the orcs cheered in their victory.
Kyala stood next to her queen, quietly asking, "Do you think there will be more of those to come?
"Let us hope not," she replied honestly.
They reassembled down in the courtyard, and after taking stock of their losses, the warchief yelled, "The courtyard is ours! Onward to the inner sanctum!"
Sylvanas was quite sure she had never referred to any part of her city as the 'inner sanctum' before, but if being dramatic spurred the orcs, she held her tongue for the sake of efficiency. They moved through the main thoroughfare of the old city unchallenged towards the elevators that had originally been installed on the orders of Arthas. She was keenly aware the path they were walking, that all visitors to her home walked, was the same one the traitorous prince had when he came to kill his father and king.
As they entered the former throne room of Capital City her eyes automatically fell to a series of dark black stains on the floor; the preserved blood of King Terenas Menethil II. Arthas had kept the stains for his own reasons, and he had deliberately used the throne room as an access point to the Undercity.
Two tunnels exited from the back of the throne room, both leading to the same tomb behind. Sylvanas had no idea who was in the tomb, nor had she ever cared. Six archways led out of the tomb. Between them, stone pillars etched with lion heads where flanked by old faded blue drapes with dull gold fringes; a curious choice as the official colours of Lordaeron had been blue and white. Two of the archways led back to the throne room, and the other four all led to elevators down to the Undercity. Belatedly, she wondered what lion symbology was doing in Lordaeron, but perhaps it was related to the tomb. She found she still did not care.
She followed Thrall down one of the tunnels towards an elevator. When they reached the open doorway, he peered over the side and held a hand up to forestall her. "Hold. They've destroyed the elevators."
"That was to be expected, Warchief. They will also have placed traps in the shaft." She drew level with the orc and peered down into the darkness. "A fall would mean certain death."
Thrall looked at Sylvanas. "How do you …" His dark eyebrows rose on his forehead in realisation. He grunted and gave her a small nod of understanding. It was natural for a leader to have ways to protect their city. "How do you suggest we deal with these traps, Lady Sylvanas?"
The use of her honorific amused the queen greatly. It would seem her knowledge was now valuable enough for some show of respect.
"My Lady, apologies," interrupted Kyala. "You should see this."
Sylvanas felt Thrall's gaze fall upon her in curiosity as she followed Kyala up the tunnel and down another to a different elevator. The lieutenant gestured at the edge, and the queen looked over the side.
She smiled.
The smile was gone by the time she turned to face Thrall. "This shaft is safe," she told the warchief.
Kyala moved aside so he could take her place to peer down the shaft. A moment later he rumbled, "What is that?"
The queen followed his gaze. Through the darkness she could see flickering purple light, what she knew was the ever-burning magical fire Alyna could create. "Shadowflame, Warchief. Alyna is telling us she has cleared the shaft of traps."
Now knowing the creator of the fire Thrall grunted as he finally saw what Sylvanas did; that it burned in the shape of an 'A'. He had not been amused when she told him her ranger captain had stayed in the city, but he had stopped short of suggesting she was a rebel when informed she had saved Sylvanas' life.
"And you still trust this ranger of yours?" he probed.
The irony of the question was not lost on the queen. She looked at Thrall directly as she replied, "Yes. With my life."
She felt that much in her soul, now she was listening to it.
He gave her a nod. "The spirits will help us down the shaft and put out that fire before we land." He turned to the darkness below. "Great air spirit, hear my call once more!" Wind again stirred the queen's cloak. After a pause, Thrall stated, "The spirits of air have heard my call. Cyclones will lower us to safety. Now we jump!"
Displaying his own faith, the warchief leapt into the dark. Both Sylvanas and Kyala watched as a cyclone did indeed form around him. The queen followed, taking a step off the ledge to plummet. The sensation of falling lasted a bit too long for her comfort but a cyclone did eventually form around her, and her speed slowed. With the shadowflame extinguished, she had to react quickly to the destroyed floor suddenly coming into view, and she landed with a quiet grunt.
She stepped through the exit to allow the others space to arrive. Looking back, she proudly took in the devastation Alyna had wrought on the metal spikes. She also noted the floor and walls of the tunnel had been damaged in several places. She recognised the distinct burn that arcane magic could leave behind.
Thrall was inspecting one of the craters. "A fight, perhaps?"
The queen shook her head slowly. "There's a few of them, and they appear quite consistent. I'm not sure what they mean."
Once enough orcs and rangers had joined them, Thrall and Sylvanas picked their way down the damaged tunnel and out into the upper level of the trade district. The queen looked out over the severe damage before her.
"What have they done to my beautiful city!" she lamented. She felt rage fill her chest. "The only redemption for the traitors responsible for this will be an agonising death. My vengeance will be swift and without mercy!"
Apparently not wanting to get in her way, the warchief gestured before her. "Lead the way, Dark Lady. We will follow."
Seeking to avoid the damaged sections, Sylvanas visually inspected the alternative routes and chose one. "Very well, Warchief. The Royal Quarter is this way. Stay on guard. There's no telling what Varimathras and Putress have in store for us."
"My Lady!" Kyala called urgently. Sylvanas stopped and turned to the dark ranger. She was looking carefully at the damaged sections. The queen followed her gaze. There were also odd pools of water in unharmed spaces. "This destruction is highly focused, my Lady. It also appears to form a path."
Both leaders followed the trail with their eyes and then looked at each other. Sylvanas bent down, picked up a chunk of broken stone, and then hurled it in the direction they were about to go. The arcane explosion shattered the stone, sending sharp shards in all directions. When they lowered their arms, the pattern left on the floor was identical to the rest of the damage.
That's when Sylvanas realised Kyala was right. Alyna had cleared a path for them.
Thrall huffed his approval. "Your captain is good."
She could not help herself. "My captain is exceptional."
Her bow at the ready, she led the Horde down the prepared path and out of the trade quarter. The streets were eerily quiet as they navigated their way towards the canals. They passed enough Forsaken corpses that she stopped counting. Some were clearly civilians who had been hacked down by the rebels, while others had died without a mark on them unusually arranged around broken cauldrons. The former incensed the queen. The latter, she instinctively knew, was Alyna.
They reached the canal without incident, but Sylvanas held up her hand to halt the group. "Hold." Her ears tingled with the magic in the air, magic she was familiar with. "I sense dark magic. Demon magic ... stand ready!"
The orc grunts fanned out as they were ordered to by their officers. Sylvanas moved into their midst with Thrall, flanked by her dark rangers and the handful of Horde heroes. With the threat of plague seemingly over for now, they had all removed their gasmasks for better vision, though many of the orcs were seemingly turning greener once they smelt the sludge in the canal. A few even put their masks back on.
The sound of wings drew their attention upwards.
"Clever girl," chuckled Varimathras. "But my brothers have grown hungry. Your souls will sate their appetites." He flew off towards the royal quarter as a wave of demons appeared from the same direction. Mostly comprised of infantry felguards, they slammed into the eager line of orcs.
Sylvanas raised her bow and found a target. "Take down the wrathguard and any commanders you see," she directed her rangers.
As the felguards fell the orcs pushed the line forward, making their way inch by inch towards the apothecarium and the royal quarter. When one wave of demons rose no more, another replaced it, each wave increasingly more dangerous than the last. In a particularly brutal wave, a pair of multi-armed shivarra whirl-winded their way through the front lines into the queen's path before they collapsed dead. Their bodies took so many arrows they looked like pin cushions. Despite their losses, the Horde pushed slowly south along the inner edge of the canal until they were opposite the apothecarium. The rangers made sure to collect their arrows from the innumerate corpses as they pressed their advantage.
Wingbeats could be heard from above again, but it was not Varimathras who crashed down in the middle of the Horde army, but a large doomguard. The sword it carried was just as large as it was, and it was as tall as an orcish home.
Thrall picked himself up, muttering, "Ancestors, what do they feed these things?"
The queen nocked an arrow and said gravely, "Souls, Warchief." Likely those of her people.
The demon roared as he swung his sword down at the orcs trying to regroup, "No hope for you!" The sword landed with an ear-numbing crash, effortlessly slicing through several soldiers and damaging the side of the canal. As the orcs died, Sylvanas could swear she saw the demon get larger. Another swing of the sword felled more hapless orcs, and this time the doomguard definitely increased in size. The queen grimly noted it was feeding on their souls.
A pair of orcs trying to hack at the doomguard's ankle were kicked into the canal as the demon turned around. One was crushed under the sludge as a large hoof stood on him. It did not even appear intentional, but the sword swinging around towards the queen's position definitely was. She leapt out of the way as Thrall called to the element of air to try and unbalance the doomguard.
It flailed for a few moments to try and recover its balance but still dropped to its knees, causing the ground to shake violently. The orcs and elves stumbled as they tried to maintain their footing, but one soldier still collided heavily with Sylvanas and she fell backwards onto the floor. As she rose, she sensed more than saw the shadow that was rapidly approaching her. She looked up at the sword that was an instant from her skull.
Strong arms wrapped themselves around her and she felt the pull of magic. The canal suddenly appeared to blur then snap back into focus. She was no longer under the demon, but twenty yards away watching the sword crash into the ground where she was. The arms were still around her and she turned her head to find black eyes looking back at her.
"Your Majesty," Alyna said softly, calmly.
Sylvanas felt her stomach flip at the almost tender words. "Your timing is impeccable."
The captain gave her a small smile. "It is my honour to serve, my Lady."
Between the floor shaking and Alyna's words, the queen somehow regained her footing and the arms regretfully fell away.
"I don't suppose you have any thoughts on how to slay this demon?" she asked her captain as the rest of her rangers caught up with them. Kyala had even retrieved her bow for her.
As soon as her words were out her mouth, the barest twitch of Alyna's eyebrow told her she did. "We have a plan. I need to get the doomguard's attention and pull it this way. I respectfully ask that you and the others stand back from the canal, my Lady."
Sylvanas raised a pale-yellow eyebrow. "We?" She then shook her head and waved away the question. "Never mind." She gave the captain a nod. "Proceed."
Alyna gestured at Sylvanas' back. "May I?"
The queen turned to allow Alyna to draw her runeblade from the scabbard across her back before moving away from the side of the canal. She caught Thrall's attention and passed along the information before she turned to watch as Alyna began to hurl bolts of shadowflame at the demon's head. That immediately got the doomguard's attention and it spun around and began moving towards her. It was now as tall as a zeppelin tower, each step causing the ground to tremble.
Alyna leapt over the canal in between casting bolts, forcing the demon into the canal's putrid contents. Sylvanas recognised her captain was trying to manoeuvre the doomguard into a specific place. The sword came swinging for the ranger, but she magically blinked away, now back on the queen's side of the canal. The demon turned, and Alyna kept glancing upwards. She was definitely waiting for something. The doomguard was either too dumb to notice, or too confident to care.
A dark elven figure suddenly appeared from above, having hurled itself at the demon from what Sylvanas guessed was one of the balconies. It used its cloak to break its fall, hooking onto the demon's horn to then flip around and sit on the back of the doomguard's neck.
The queen was not sure who was more surprised, the doomguard at its new passenger, or her when she realised the figure was Talnia.
The air temperature at her side suddenly dropped and her attention was drawn back to Alyna. A white swirl of frost surrounded her making it seem as if she was at the centre of her own personal blizzard. The power of the spell throbbed through the air before she directed it at the canal itself. The green sludge froze where the spell landed, but Alyna did not stop. She kept channelling the spell and the canal rapidly froze over around the doomguard, rooting its hooves.
In its confusion, the demon stopped struggling with its passenger to stare, slack-jawed, at Alyna. Talnia took the opportunity to draw a sword and thrust it through the back of the demon's neck in a pinpoint strike that severed its spinal cord. It fell backwards to crash along the far bank of the canal, hooves still rooted.
Knowing it was likely paralysed but not dead, Thrall ordered the orcs to finish it off, which they did so with gusto.
The two elves responsible for the carnage strode over to their queen. They both went down on one knee before her and waited silently. Sylvanas knew their display of devotion was more for Thrall's benefit than hers, but she could not help the thrill at seeing Alyna do such a thing. She decided to play along.
"Rise, my captains. You have made your Queen proud this day." They both obeyed as Thrall watched on wordlessly. Sylvanas moved her eyes from Alyna to Talnia, holding the woman's red eyes with her own for several long seconds. She then gave her a small nod. All was not forgotten, but for now it was forgiven. Whether she realised it or not, Talnia visibly relaxed at the silent decision. The queen turned back to Alyna. "What can you tell us of the situation here?"
"You have defeated the main demon host occupying the city, my Lady, but Varimathras occupies the throne room. I sense the main portal he uses to bring them here is located there."
Sylvanas nodded. "Good. We will deal with that treacherous wretch first, and then we will find Putress."
The two captains exchanged a knowing look before they both opened their mouths to speak. Talnia got there first. "He's dead, my Lady."
"Dead?" asked Thrall, stepping forward. "How?"
Sylvanas watched the two women exchange another look. This time, Alyna spoke. "He was the only source of viable nourishment I had left in the city, my Lady."
While Thrall took a few seconds to comprehend what the words meant, Sylvanas gave Alyna a rarely heard sound of amusement. As much as the queen had wanted to make Putress suffer before he died, she could not help but be entertained by the fact the proud grand apothecary was killed for no other reason than he was food. She hoped he knew that was all he was worth in the end.
A loud cheer arose from the demon's direction and Sylvanas noted the orcs had succeeded in decapitating it. She turned to Thrall. It was time to end this.
"The Royal Quarter is just up ahead, Warchief."
He gave her a serious nod. The group crossed the canal via a bridge to join up with what remained of the army that had entered the city. Scanning their numbers, the queen estimated she had nearly three dozen orcs, the handful of heroes, and her dark rangers. She hoped it would be enough.
There were no guards at the hall leading into the royal quarter, but it would appear none were thought required. All of a sudden they heard Varimathras yell, "Bring down the halls! NOW!"
The halls began to shake, large boulders dropping down to block their way into the royal quarter.
The warchief snarled and shouted, "COWARD! You think to stop the Warchief of the Horde with pebbles? I will show you the true power of the elements!" He raised his hands. "Great spirit of the earth help us in our hour of need!" Obediently, the rocks disintegrated into dust, clearing the path. "Let's go, quickly!"
They moved carefully down the damaged hall in a defensive formation and met no further resistance. The doors to the throne room had been ripped off their hinges, allowing them to see Varimathras standing in the centre of the dais where the queen's throne would normally be. A magical shield snapped into being around him and he raised his hands. Four purple streams of energy flowed from him to the four cardinal points in the room where four demonic portals fluctuated and began to open.
"What is this?" Thrall challenged.
"Welcome to your future," crowed the demon. "What little there is left of it ..."
Demons of varying races began to come through the portals, immediately attacking the front line of Horde soldiers. Arrows and magic were thrown at Varimathras, but nothing penetrated his shield. Sylvanas decided to change tactics for now and turned to Alyna. "Can you close the portals?"
The captain's eyes momentarily flicked to the nearest one before turning back to Sylvanas. "Yes. I do need to get closer to them though, so I am not blocked or interrupted."
As the front line held, the queen began to coordinate the rest of the Horde forces to encircle the nearest portal. An inner line of warriors dealt with the demons coming through the portal itself, which the rest focused on what was coming from the other portals. Sylvanas made sure Alyna was protected by dark rangers as she focused on bringing down the magical gateway. Within a couple of minutes, the portal collapsed in on itself, sending a bolt of energy back up the stream of power to Varimathras.
It earnt Alyna a furious glare from the demon. He growled deeply. "Too long ... tireless, endless planning ... it will not end like this ..."
With careful coordination, they moved on to the next portal, making sure there were no breaks in the line. As they did so, Alyna moved silently up to her queen. "My Lady, I believe he is taking energy from beyond the portals to power his shield. Once they're all closed, he should be vulnerable."
Sylvanas gave her a nod of acknowledgement before firing an arrow at a charging demon, piercing its skull through an eye. A few minutes later, the second portal was closed similarly to the first.
Varimathras sounded frustrated as he said, "Need more time ... the Master is near ..."
Just when the stream of demons had started to thin out, the final two portals became larger to allow for more demons to step through. The Horde line did not waiver and pressed through the attackers. Near half of the throne room was littered with the corpses of demons and orcs, though the demons had suffered far worse. They reached the third portal and Alyna once more began to channel a spell into its structure to destabilise it.
"Such power!" Varimathras cried. "Can you not feel it, mortals? Cease this foolishness and join me!" No one bothered to answer him, and the third portal vanished. The dreadlord started to sound worried. "NO! I will not fail! Not again!"
With just the one portal depositing demons into the room they managed to surround it with few issues. The queen noted that Alyna was starting to look more than a little fatigued as she began to disrupt the last portal.
The dreadlord roared, "I cannot hold ... destabilising ..."
A deep voice yelled through the final portal, somehow managing to be loud enough to be heard but still sounding distant, "YOU HAVE FAILED ME, VARIMATHRAS!"
A note of fear now tinged the dreadlord's reply, "A thousand-thousand pardons, Master! I will deal with these intruders myself!"
Intruders? Sylvanas was not the intruder here! The final portal blinked out of existence and the Horde turned to attack the traitor.
Arrows flew at the vulnerable demon as he tried to counter the swords, axes and maces that swung at him repeatedly. Alyna stood at her queen's side, using her bow instead of her magic. Though exhausted, the captain made sure Varimathras could not use most of his own magic by disrupting the spells he tried to cast. The dreadlord still managed to blast the warriors before him in fel energy at intervals but found that trying to use magic with angry orcs in his face was not easy. As powerful as he was, Varimathras had used most of his strength to open the portals. He had hoped that would be enough, and he had failed.
The many simultaneous attacks eventually overwhelmed the dreadlord and he collapsed to his knees, his wings showing tears. "Years ... wasted ..." A heavy runic axe swung by an elven death knight cut off anything else the demon might have said as it was buried in his throat, almost decapitating him. His body collapsed lifelessly to the ground.
The warchief raised his legendary hammer into the air. "WE ARE VICTORIOUS! The Undercity belongs to the Horde once more! LOK'TAR!" The throne room echoed with the sounds of victory. When the cheering died down, Thrall gestured for Sylvanas to join him on the dais. "Dark Lady, join me! You have fought hard and spilled much blood for this right. The Royal Quarter belongs to you!"
The queen's eyes flashed angrily at being invited into her own domain, but she did not comment on it. She always knew the warchief would take credit for a victory. She slowly walked up the steps to join him standing over the dreadlord's body.
"Such will be the fate of all enemies of the Horde, Warchief. On behalf of the Forsaken, you have our—" A distinctive war horn echoed down the hall into the throne room, causing all eyes to turn to the door. The queen furrowed her brow slightly. "Alliance war horns? Here?"
Thrall raised his hammer and strode down the steps. "Stay on guard!"
Sylvanas joined him as they were surrounded by what remained of the Horde's healthy soldiers. She did not have to look to know Alyna and her rangers were behind her as Alliance forces ran into view, led by Varian Wrynn. When they saw the Horde soldiers, they stopped and formed a defensive line before their king.
The human raised his sword and pointed it accusingly at Thrall, fury written all over his rugged face. "I was away for too long. My absence cost us the lives of some of our greatest heroes. Trash like you and this evil witch were allowed to roam free … unchecked." His voice began to raise angrily as he continued. "The time has come to make things right. To disband your treacherous kingdom of murderers and thieves."
Sylvanas' ear twitched at his words. She had just fought hard to reclaim her throne. She was not about to let a war-mongering human take it from her.
The king continued, uninterrupted. "I've waited a long time for this, Thrall. For every time I was thrown into one of your damned arenas ... for every time I killed a green-skinned aberration like you ... I could only think of one thing: what our world could be without you and your twisted Horde. It ends now, Warchief."
In anticipation of a fight, both sides raised their weapons as Varian cried, "Attack! For Stormwind! For Bolvar! For the Alliance!"
The human footmen ran forward to clash with the orc grunts. The king looked to engage Thrall in battle and found a willing opponent in the warchief. As sword and hammer crossed, a female voice rose above the clamour.
"Varian, NO! STOP!"
Sylvanas looked up in surprise as Jaina Proudmoore ran straight into the fray. As the queen raised her bow to target her, she suddenly found she could not move.
She realised that no one could; Proudmoore had cast a powerful spell that had frozen everyone to a standstill. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the archmage move into the king's field of vision. With the room suddenly quiet, they all heard her words to him. "It did not have to be like this ..."
Then they were gone; the entire Alliance force teleported to who knew where.
A moment later, the freezing spell relaxed, and the queen found she could move again. She looked at Thrall as he stared at where the king had stood. "It ends like it began ..." he muttered. An older orc moved to talk to the warchief, and the queen decided to leave them to it, climbing the steps up to her dais. Her rangers followed.
She turned and made eye contact with each of them before finally allowing a small smile to grace her features.
"We are home."