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.
So sorry for the long delay dear readers, I'll update more! Promise!
Yes, I did copy and paste that from the last long update. But I am happy to say I've been writing a lot lately though. For those who are fond of Fairy Tail and Game of Thrones, I've got a new story out. Particularly M rated, had a lot of fun writing it. This story will be finished soon as well. There will perhaps five more updates, the chapters being a bit longer than usual. Then sometime in the future (near or far) I will break down the chapter count and organize this whole narrative a bit better before I call it complete.
Chapter 34
"A few," Wayne said into the wind after a few long moments.
"Well it's been bloodly long enough," the ghostly captain muttered.
Wayne carefully peered forward over the bow of the ship. The heavy rain and gales of wind threatened to sweep the unsteady mage overboard. He could now see how the ship is stuck. Sending a bolt of arcane magic to destory the pillar that kept them pinned is too dangerous, Wayne reasoned. The vessel falling from this height may just be enough to finally sink the ship to the bottom of the sea.
The undead mage held onto the railing as he continued to stare down. Visibly is low with the heavy rain, but he swore he could see something move. It looked like a fin but his poor eyesight only hindered him.
Lightning flashed above, giving a brief illumination. Wayne could see a mass of merpeople crawling up the white stone. Before Wayne could shout out a trident flew up towards him. The weapon sunk deeply into the rotten wooden railing under his hands. One of the deathstalkers moved beside Wayne, jerking him back. After a brief look below the assassin returned a throwing knife at the first one he saw missing a weapon. A loud screech rang out as the creature fell into the waters below.
"Incoming attack!" Wayne shouted out.
Undead saliors pulled their weapons, peering out into the heavy storm.
"Against what?" the captain shouted back.
Wayne did not answer, to be honest he did not know. Moments later the sounds of hissing below began to build. Nollis rushed onto deck then, just as the first merpeople climbed aboard the ship. They screeched like monsterous snakes, standing at full height they tower above the dead. The creatures attacked at will with their long pikes. Saliors fought as best they could in the storm, but many are forced overboard.
Nollis continued to fire his bow as he crossed the deck. Dozens of them are slithering over the railing at a time. Wayne sent sweeping waves of death magic into their ranks. Yet they seemingly held a magical resistance to it, their scales also prevented blades from pushing very deep. He found himself very hindered casting spells in the heavy storm.
"Too many!" the captain yelled as they closed in from all sides.
Wayne nearly slipped when the wind changed direction. Nollis reached him in time to catch his fall and steady the mage. A bolt of lightning came down then, striking the mast of the ship. The half rotten timber fell over, crashing upon the stern. The entire ship tilted but did not fall free from the stone. The two archers who were in the crow's nest were flung screaming into the sea.
"That's it!" Wayne said to Nollis, grasping his shoulder tighter. "I cannot stop the storm, but I can make it worse."
Nollis nodded, pulling three arrows onto his bowstring. The undead elf pulled back and held his grip. He aimed over the railing into the sea.
"There!" Wayne pointed to a reflective point of light at the center of the bay.
He lifted his bone staff high, carefully balancing himself against the wind. Nollis released his three sharp metal tipped arrows. Three thick bolts of lightning descended from the sky, striking the arrow heads upon hitting the water. The bay lit up with brilliant white light, electricity surging through the waves.
A mass of shrieks erupted from the bay. Untold numbers of merpeople electrocuted in the waters below. The devasting attack ended quickly, great numbers of them began rising to the surface. Their bodies mostly charred and smoking under the rainfall. The creatures on board fiercly squawked, but retreated away in fear.
"Good thinking," the captain croaked as he walked over to the mage. "They may come back."
"They've had enough for now," Wayne said confidently.
"Then get below deck, our job to keep you safe and sound," ordered the captain.
A heavy gale of wind swept the deck, sliding them all several inches to the stern. The whole ship leaned at a dangerous angle now that part of the mast remains where it fell. The wind rocked the ship with new leverage. But a plunge downwards into bay is never came. The ship stayed steady and rode out the rest of the storm in place.
XxXxX
Morning light came with the end of the storm. Wayne emerged from below deck and looked out over the floating charred bodies in the bay. His eyes pained him too much in the bright sunlight to get a count. He promised the excited apothecaries they would get their samples. A small boat is carefully lowered down off the portside. Wayne, Nollis and one of the deathstalkers filled the small vessel.
Wayne sat as the other two rowed to the nearby shore. Their oars steadily pushing bodies out of the way. The merpeople are now too damaged for decent resurrection, he reasoned. Time is still not on their side, on top of finding themselves lost in a new land.
"Company," muttered the Deathstalker, pointing to the sunlit ridge. Wayne's eyes made it impossible to see anything in the harsh light.
"I see eight," Nollis said in a low whisper.
Wayne readied his bone staff, but no attack came. Great crashing sounds came rang through the air. The company of orcs mounted upon dire wolves descended to meet them upon the shore. They kept their distance, forming a straight line as the small boat stopped on the beach.
"Death has reached our lands," an orc said.
"The shamans were right!" another shouted. Nearly all of them held their weapons close, but none of them dismounted.
"Aye it has," Wayne said, rising up to stand with the aid of his staff. "We are The Forsaken, emissaries of The Dark Lady."
"You do all this?" the largest orc in the center said gruffly. "Heard them frying and saw the light from Orgimmar."
"It was I," said Wayne, Nollis help steady him onto the shore. "And we seek to be your ally."
The deathstalker lifted their banner out of the boat, casting it high into the air.
