A/N: Please note that this is of course Fan Fiction, therefore the events described would be slightly deviated from the orginal telling.
And nope, I in fact do not own warcraft or anything else I write about.
Chapter 11
The powerful armies of the Kirin Tor with their combined factions of various fighting groups were bled white in the districts of Dalaran. Their unrelenting assault towards the city center became bogged down in mountains of corpses and rivers of blood. Scourge forces were so thickly amassed within the city that a million soldiers of the highest quaility could not have cut threw them all. Yet for all the Kirin Tor's unrealistic hopes, they continued onwards. Despite the ever increasing body count, they fought on and fought bravely in the attempt to retake their lost city.
Wayne and his companion Elf stood on the ledge of a high tower near the city square that overlooked the entirety of Dalaran. With no empathy that was recognizable, they stood and watched the human's hopeless struggle that choked the city streets. Before long several more Necromancers joined them on the tower ledge to watch. Their relative safety was one of the greatest assets to the Scourge. Besides, in fighting as confined and attritional as this, the Necromancers would have no shelter.
On the other side of the tower's sights, a summoning ritual was taking place. Clearly Wayne could see the Lich commanding the procedure, it stood chanting in a ring of flames, the man Arthas and all of his knights stood around as black magic filled the air. In the far distance from the Lich, something inside Wayne was shaken and stirred by some unknown force. It was in the distance that he first saw a spectral woman, she stared fixedly at the ground, her face was downcast with sorrow. Around her floated many others like her, but they were not nearly the same in Wayne's eyes. He stood on the ledge and stared at her for a long time, his brain contantly giving off waves of blurring static and confusion.
As the sun began to rise, the area around the square where the summoning was taking place began to darken. The power flowed at such a fervent pitch that those Kirin Tor still outside the city could feel it. In the veiled darkness the form of a great demon began to slowly reveal itself. Wayne took his eyes off the banshee to watch the situation unfold. Within minutes its full form suddenly dispersed the darkness as it towered over the square. At this moment the attacking Kirin Tor within the city began to break and run for their lives. They were pursued mercilessly by the Scourge as they hurried to evacuate the city.
The demon identified itself as Archimonde as it spoke to the Lich in a deep dark voice. The rest of the conversation was not listened to by Wayne and the other Necromancers as the voice commanded them to the streets of Dalaran to raise the fallen. They worked quickly as the Scourge began to leave the city, in such haste, that the call for the expulsion of the Necromancers came before the work was complete.
Wayne was among the last of the undead to walk out of the city gates. The Kirin Tor had by now all dissapeared from the area, only their encampments, possessions and ressurected dead remained in their wake. In the long trek through the wilderness that followed, the only sounds that the Scourge heard were of destruction.
End of Chapter 11
