Hello all! Welcome to chapter 4 of this adventure! I'm glad you could join me thus far and I hope you'll stay for many more chapters to come! Just a heads up, it may take some time to push out the following few chapters due to School and work taking up a majority of my life. but I'll try my best and keep'er going!
"Fall back to the docks everyone! They're pushing through the main gate!" A Silvermoon guard urged the crowd of frightened people through the many alleys and strips throughout the city as the scourge pushed through, desecrating everything in its way. Willhelm stood mixed within the makeshift platoon of High Elven soldiers, blade at the ready.
The Elves marched onward down the street before standing in a line with their shields held forward and swords also drawn, creating a blockade against the forces that invaded their homeland. With a look to the left, then to the right, each man and woman in the line of defense wore a fierce mask of courageousness, ready to look death in the eyes and spit in its face in defense of their city and people.
No-one spoke, nothing more than the screams of defenseless citizens getting cut down as well as the not-so distant howls of disgusting abominations and ghouls. Rangers were lined up in unison with the warriors, each one with their bows, ready to draw their arrows and fire at first sight of the impending doom. Mages as well as other spell casters also occupied the space, their eyes glowing with arcane and holy fire, hands barely containing their uncast spells.
The stench of death weighed heavy in the air, mixing with the sweat of the living and the smoke of a burning city. Willhelm looked to the closest group of rangers, instantly spotting Sylvanas, standing out from their forrest green, clad in her blue and silver leather. As he stared, it was as if she felt his eyes land on her, as she turned and faced him equally, her eyes full of worry, yet a face of stone, of fury. She gave a reassuring nod, her eyes closing as she did so, and turned back to her rangers, pointing and giving directions to good vantage points.
Rangers dispursed to various locations, however, the vast majority stayed. A turn of the head caused his eyes to catch on Ellithara. She looked frightened, concerned of what might happen to her and everyone else that stood next to her. She too seemingly sensed his eyes, as she turned and met them. The normally bright blue glow of her eyes were dim and had grayed, full of sorrow. She was now the last remaining member of her immediate family, having watched the entirety of her house all fall to the evil bastards that now threatened to take her life as well. She thought how they might now be part of the force she had to defend her people against, the possibility of having to kill her friends and loved ones, the people she grew up with, had finally hit her, Willhelm could see it in her eyes. They darted to and from, seemingly searching for something in him, strength maybe?, he thought to himself.
An amplified call from a bird broke the silence of the people, all looking in directing of the sound, in which their eyes met Sylvanas', whom now stood on a group of crates stacked on top of each other. She glanced around at the surrounding masses of her army, looking each and every soldier in the eyes, showing compassion and empathy for their struggles up to this point, and mentally thanked each individual. She straightened her posture and squared get shoulders, still making eye contact with them all and parting her lips to speak in their native tongue.
"I know..."', she paused a moment and looked upon the soldiers that laid before her and sighed, "I know today has been... rough, to put it simply." She spoke loud and clearly, "We've all suffered a great deal! However, this day is not yet over, so we must continue to stand so that those who cannot fight, can live on! Push back the feelings of sorrow and fear, and bring forth those of anger and vengeance! Show these scourge who they dare invade! Show Arthas that we will not fall so easily! We fight for Quel'thalas, for the Quel'dorei, for Silvermoon! We will rain victorious, or die trying! Anar'alah belore!" The Elves around her roared and cheered at her speech, their valor renewed. The hurrah's of the multitude of High Elves could be heard for miles, so she thought. Sylvanas smiled at the rally as her people cheered for the first time in what felt like an eternity. Willhelm, Ellithara, and Sylvanas looked one another with wide smiles, the three ready to fight at each others' sides. To fall if necessary.
The figure of and call from an approaching guard caught the attention of the rowdy crowd, in which they quieted as they all looked in his direction. He continued to yell and wave as he rushed forward, his words unclear for the moment. As he got closer, what he spoke became cleared, "They're coming! The scourge is here! Fall back! Run!!!" The Elf ran as fast as his feet carried him, but as he came no less than 20 meters from the blockade, his feet faltered and he fell. A few soldiers broke formation to go help the Elf get back on his feet, but Sylvanas halted them. "Don't!" She called out, "Look! Back in formation! Prepare yourselves!" The few Elves that had already left their ranks stopped in their place to look at the Elf, only to see an arrow sticking prominently from his back. They then turned to run back into the blockade as whistling pierced their ears. One Elf fell, meeting the same fate as the guard, another, and another.
Arrows began to rain, pelting the stone beneath their feet. "Raise your shields! Shields!!!" Sylvanas called out the order, and so the soldiers listened, raising their shields to protect them from the onslaught of arrows. The rangers, as well as the spell casters dashed for cover just before the arrows touched ground, watching them scatter and snap as they hit. The sounds of steel plunging into the perfected craftsmanship of the High Elven shields were like a symphony of the gods. A multitude of arrows assaulted in no particular grouping, each one having it's own path and target, some completely missing it's intended mark.
The small force of Elven warriors held true, their shields staying high like a blanket of steel. With each arrow, less and less fell down onto the troops, eventually coming to a stop. Sylvanas appeared from an alley way between two buildings and peered forward at where the projectiles had came from. Her eyes glared down the strait, only moving to each side of the street they held. Willhelm also stepped into view once more, out from underneath the soldiers shields. Ellithara and the other spell casters still held in cover however. Some Elves lowered their shields, uncertain of another attack, however not wanting to tire before the battle. They spread out, moving behind the makeshift defenses they had erected not too long before standing in formation, wooden spikes in the form of X's being such defenses.
From where he now stood, Willhelm could see Sylvanas waving her hand to and from, in which her rangers responded, sprinting to the sides of buildings and readying their bows. "Hold!" He heard her call out in Thalassian as they settled into their positions. His understanding of their language had grown with time, not to the point of fluidity, yet enough to get by.
An Elf clad in gold and green leather and chainmail jumped out from the shadows of a near by alley and stepped into a salute infront of Sylvanas, inwhich she returned with a simple nod. Willhelm noted his armor, recognizing him as Halduron, one of her higher ups. They exchanged words for a moment and the look that transpired upon Sylvanas' face told no lie about the information she had just received. With a dismissal of Halduron, she turned and began to jog towards Willhelm with quickness. As she approached him, he nodded to her and stepped closer to lessen the distance. They stopped infront of each other and shared a moment of silence before speaking. "They'll be around that corner any moment now..." Sylvanas spoke as she pointed down the length of the road they stood on. "We're outnumbered one hundered to one... I truly don't know how long we can hold to allow for more people to evacuate. Other forces around Silvermoon have fallen back completely to the northern docks, if we don't move soon, we'll be flanked... I-" Willhelm stepped forward a foot and placed both hands on her opposite shoulders. "Sylvanas... Steady yourself, your people will prevail. Maybe Silvermoon may fall today, but the High Elves will live on. If we need to fall back, then we will, under your command. We follow you to victory, or die trying, and I'll be more than glad to fall at your side." She simply shook her head with closed eyes in reply. "I will not let you, nor anyone else fall today, I can't, not after all I've failed to protect..." Her face was filled with anguish as well as fury. "Whether you like it or not, you yourself cannot decide who does and does not fall today, my dear Ranger-Genral." Her gaze dropped at his reply for she knew he was right, however it wouldn't stay her attempt nonetheless.
In what seemed like a flash of lightning, several gargoyles darted through the sky over the tops of the houses around them, snatching up rangers in higher up positions and ripping them to pieces. Several more sailed through the orange sky towards the Elven blockade, getting closer with every second. Both Sylvanas' as well as Willhelm's heads snapped in the direction as they spotted the foul creatures and with a curse under each others breath, they broke their meeting and dispersed to their original positions. Sylvanas shouted orders, to which her soldiers followed, her rangers drawing their bows and firing at the winged undead. The warriors fell into a solid shield wall, trapping Willhelm inside with them. As he stood with an equal shield raised, he could hear nothing but disembodied screeching of gargoyls and the screams and shouting of Elves. Ghouls and geists rounded onto the strait and charged with no remorse onward towards the blockade. They sporadically moved down the straight away, making for harder targets, however plenty of arrows found their mark, despite each fallen undead not making so much as a scratch in their numbers.
The Elven warriors began to march forward, moving quickly to meet the oncoming evil. In mere seconds, they clashed, the sound of steel cutting through bodies filled the air. Balls of arcane and holy fire shot forth into the scourge forces, killing many, yet seemingly none. Willhelm watched as Elves infront of him fought and fell, simply waiting for his turn in the mix. It came, as he stepped over the lifeless bodies that layed before him and pushed forward with his shield, all whilst swinging his sword with dexterity.
The formation broke as more undead swarmed, soon fighting turned into a game of luck where skill seemed to matter none. Willhelm drowned out all noise around him, eyes practically blinded by constant movement. So many targets in one place, a ghoul infront, to the side, and behind. A gargoyle above and an abomination approaching quickly. The street was littered with bodies, the fight seemingly close to an end as fast as it had started. A turn of the head, Willhelm lifted with his shield arm and put the heavy metal infront to block an attack from a ghoul. The swipe of the creatures sickening claws scraped the shield and slightly staggered Willhelm. He retaliated and thrusted his shield into the ghoul, hitting it in it's center mass and throwing it to the ground. Willhelm cocked his blade back and shot it downward into the undead body, finishing it off. Before he could turn around, a sharp pain echoed from his side. He ripped the sword from the ghoul and twisted to face his next opponent. A geist pulled back and crouched downward, in position to leap. It attempted to pull off what Willhelm could only assume to be a smirk and launched itself forward. Willhelm moved to brace the impact with his shield, however didn't find his footing in time. The geist knocked him to the ground and rounded to go in for the attack once more. Willhelm struggled to get to his feet, his shield and armor weighting him down. The geist jumped into the air to bring itself down into Willhelm and end his life, but just when it thought it had victory and Willhelm thought he had failed to avenge his family and help save the Elves, an arrow pierced its skull. The geist went limp and slammed into the stone beneath them.
A hand reached out to Willhelm, in which he kindly accepted. He was pulled onto his feet to meet welcoming eyes. Sylvanas' faced has been cut, it began just on her cheekbone and stopped at the base of her ear. Her eyes still shined despite everything around them, he had noticed. "Not today my dear friend!" She put a hand on his shoulder plate and nodded to him. He returned the gesture before bending over and picking up his sword. "Thank you Sylvanas, I owe you one!" She smirked and gave him a wink before turning and drawing her bow once more. She delve back into the fight not a moment later, disappearing into the crowd. Willhelm shook off whatever pain he felt and focused back on the fight. He chose his next target and charged forward back into the fight.
"Fall back! To the docks, theres too many! Pull back but keep your shields up!" Sylvanas shouted orders as she continuously shot arrows at each new target. The Elven fighters were now too few. They stood no chance. Ellithara stood behind the few shields that stood in a wall and casted spells to smite the undead. She wiped out what seemed like entire crowds of the scourge with her holy fire but with each one to fall, another simply filled it's place. It was an endless slaughter.
Panting with no breath left in his lungs, Willhelm continued to swing his sword mercilessly with no true enemy beneath his blade as it came down, cutting through the air. A few Elves stood along side him, grunting ferociously as they fought as well. They swung their weapons with fury and held their ground, however they all were cut off from the remaining bit of the larger force, destined to die here and now.
Sylvanas moved with Halduron as well as some other rangers on the side lines to flank the initial force of undead. She and Halduron split from the group and continued moving to find vantage points. As she dashed past an alley, everything went black for a moment as she felt a freezing wave wash over her. She woke with her cheem pressed against the cold stone road and her vision flashing on and off. She blinked to attempt to refocus her sight as a large, round, gray figure approached her. It was massive, hulking, and the meer glance of the creature disgusted even it's creator. The Abomination stepped forward until it stood just before Sylvanas. She tried with all her might to get back to her feet but to no avail, her arms faltered as they held no strength for the moment. Golden locks dangled infront of her eyes, as her hood was no longer attached by woven threads, allowing her hair to flow freely. Blood clung to her face as it drained from her forhead from where she was just hit and dazed. She was already dead, she thought to herself. The feeling of rough, cold stone left her as she began to feel lighter. The sky grew closer and without having to see it, she knew she was now in the air.
Sylvanas attempted to focus on the gored face infront of her and as her sight focused, she could see a smirk play onto the Abomination's face as it looked at her. It suspended her off of the ground, holding her at its full capability. "Master is going to like this..." Its foul, disembodied voice filled her ears as it spoke, and the stentch of its breath made her scowl. She simply wished for death at this point. Her vision faded out once more, passing out from the multitude of different reasons that plagued her.
From a distance, Willhelm watched as Sylvanas was lifted from the ground by an abomination. Her rangers charged in to assist her, yet all they threw at the undead monstrosity were useless. Hakduron lead them, attacking from all sides. The abomination swung a wicked bladed hook it held in its opposite hand, holding Sylvanas on its shoulder while under attack. Willhelm could hardly hold his sword, exaughsted of all his will power. Seeing Sylvanas in such a posisition was the only thing keeping him on his feet. Another Elf fell beside him, the scream of agony as he was cut down rung in head head, and the Elf's blood splattered on his armor. A ghoul knocked another Elf over and began to rip the she-elf apart without the slightest bit of mercy. Willhelm, however, trudged along, moving towards Sylvanas as auickly as he could, doing whay he could to defend himself as well. A geist charged him, but was smited by light. Ellithara and two apprentice mages cut a line through undead forces to attempt to save their Ranger-Genral, however soon began to also be over power.
A roar filled the air and at first glance, the abomination fell to the stone. Rangers rushed to retrieve Sylvanas but as if they could catch no break, dark, shadowy tendrils shot forth and grabed each one, throwing them out into the scourge army as if they were a bone to a dog. A figure, clade in darkend silver, steel plate emerged from the shadows of the buoding around them. He stood tall, his armor giving him perhaps a larger appearence then her truly had, ita jagged points and extensions protruding from his center mass. Depictions of skulls lined his shoulder plates and the top of his boots. Frost seemingly clung to his armor and a mist radiated from him as it evaporated and formed simultaneously. In hand, he held a blade that glimmered with death. Its runes that were engraved in the steel glowed blue, as if made of flame. The tip of the blade dragged along the strait as the man walked with ambition, the sea of undead splitting before him. ARTHAS... The named rang volumes in Willhelms head. Arthas reached his fallen commander and peered down at the corpse before immediately turned his gaze to Sylvanas' semi-concious form on the ground. Willhelm watched the man reach down and grab Sylvanas by her hair and lift her into the air. He tried to call out as he limped to them, but his voice did nothing to carry. He moved ad quickly as he could, the sound of Ellithara screeming Sylvanas's name drowned out all other noise. She rushed past him in full sprint, ready to do anything to save her love, however a gargoyle spotted her and swooped down to intercept. It stretched it's claws out and latched onto her shoulders and attempted to lift her into the sky. She squirmed and shook to gain release from its grasp, and in a moment of pure struggle, her emotions ran true, causing her eyes to flash bright with holy light. Holy magic coarsed around her and blew out into a ball, encasing the gargoyle and her, before imploding and disintegrating the gargoyle and letting her fall the sum meters it had carried her. Ellithara hit the stone with a tuck of the body and rolled back into a sprint. Arthas took notice of her approach, turning and holding Frostmourne, his wicked blade, out towards Ellithara. A bright blue flare of light shone from the blade as a beam of frost shot forth from the tip, striking her in the chest and sending her flying back towards Willhelm. In a last second attempt, he held his arms out and caught her, embracing the impact and falling to ground with her in his arms. He noticed now that everything had gone still, the undead masses frozen in their place. At that point all he could do was watch.
Arthas turned back to Sylvanas, who now was conscious enough to speak. " I salute your bravery Elf, but the chase is over..." Arthas declared. "Then I'll make my stand here, butcher... Anar'alah belore..." Sylvanas spoke with all she could muster, her voice still strong dispite her injuries and exhaustion. Willhelm watched as she moved and arm to the backside of her waist and unsheathed a dagger. She ripped it through the air and stuck it into Arthas' neck, cause him to reel back, crying out in agony and dropping Sulvanas to the ground. She dropped to her knee's and hung her head, awaiting her own demise. Arthas tore the dagger from his neck and threw the Elven blade to the stone beneath his boot. He kneeled down and wrapped his free hand around Sylvanas' neck, once more bringing her up. He raised his right arm, bringing the tip of Frostmourne to Sylvanas' abdomen, just barely scrapping the skin. Sylvanas could feel the chill, the frost forming on her stomach. Willhelm could do nothing to save her. Tears ran down his cheeks as he quietly sobbed. He began scooting backwards accross the ground, pulling Ellithara with him, but never taking his sight off of Sylvanas. In a meer moment, Arthas drew back Frostmourne, the sword visably begging for the Elf's soul, its hunger was insatiable, and plunged it into Sylvanas with no mercy. Sylvanas gasped as the sword entered her, drawing her last breath of air into her lungs, and with that last taste of fresh, sweet Quel'dorei air, she spoke softly, "Finish it... I deserve a clean death..." Arthas simply smirked and shook his head. "After all you've put me through woman, the last thing I'll give you is the peace of death..." Sylvanas' eyes opened wide with realization, "No!..." She exclaimed, the last of the air leaving lungs as Arthas tore Frostmourne out of her now lifeless body and tossed her to the ground, laughing maniacally.
Willhelm felt arms wrap around him and lift him up as he held Ellithara. Someone was pulling him to safety, he could tell. As he got closer to the boats, his vision lessened and his view of Sylvanas disapated. The last thing he wittnessed was Arthas pointing Frostmourne at Sylvanas, the sword tearing her soul from her body.
-.-.-.-.-BACK TO THE PRESENT!-.-.-.-.-.-.
Willhelm's eyes shot open, his body lunging forward, almost sending his covers flying off of the bed he now layed in. Sylvanas, whom layed next to him sat up beside him, puting a hand on his back. For a moment, she moved her hand smoothly over his back, feeling the dense muscles and scars that made him up. "A bad dream...?" She asked quietly as she attempted to sooth him. His breathing was heavy and he cried without even noticing it. He simply nodded in response, comfirming her suspicion. "What of, my love?She wondered. He shook his head, trying his best to remove the memories from his head. "You..."