Apocalypse

Chapter Four: Storm's Coming

Around the gargantuan roots of the World Tree, a heated discussion was taking place. The leaders of the races of Azeroth were engaged in a furious argument, while the newcomer that was the subject of their spat stood off to one side, in obvious earshot but ignoring every word said about her. Instead, Sylvanas focused her gaze on the World Tree, looking at it expectantly.

"This is madness! Not just my people, but the night elves and the orcs have suffered much as well under the hands of the vile undead! And now you propose to bring this… abomination into our fold? I will never agree to it!" Arlen said heatedly. He made no effort to lower his voice, knowing full well that the undead woman would hear every word he uttered.

"Perhaps, but she has made no attack on us yet." Tyrande attempted to defend her once-elven sister.

"Made no attack on us? Need I remind you she has incapacitated not only one of my soldiers, but one of yours as well?"

Malfurion cut in. "Exactly. She has incapacitated them, not killed them outright. Her marksmanship is obviously outstanding, Arlen. She could have killed both of them easily. That she has not shows that she harbors no ill intent towards us and ours. Besides, if she did wish to attack us, coming alone would be suicide!"

"Precisely! Why would an undead risk their unnatural lives, foul they may be, and wander into the midst of our armed soldiers? I say that this is a prelude to an attack! While she keeps us busy and distracted with her lies, her undead cohorts will storm our base! We should take mercy on her, and end her miserable existence right now, then prepare ourselves for a battle!" Arlen's words grew ever louder as his speech grew more impassioned and righteous. He was even reaching for his warhammer as he spoke, readying himself for a fight.

"You underestimate me, human."

The chilling, unexpected voice behind the paladin made all of them jump. With a startled oath, Arlen whirled around, his weapon at the ready, to face Sylvanas.

"Are all humans like that? I suppose it must be a racial trait of sorts. I wonder how you ever live with them… sister." The use of the title was done on purpose. Tyrande flinched to hear it; even though she had been defending her till now, to claim kinship with this… thing was too much to imagine. The little motion was not missed by the undead. Smirking, Sylvanas carried on.

"I have told you, little paladin. I have my own reasons for joining your little band. I do not believe your cause will triumph, but it matters not to me. As long as I accomplish my goals, I will lend you my aid. Be grateful for this… human." Arlen's eyes narrowed at the implied insult.

"We do not need your aid, dark one. I should end your suffering right here and now."

At this, Sylvanas laughed, an otherworldly sound that was unlike anything the Sentinel leaders had heard before. "Oh, if only you could, human. But as I said, I have my goals to accomplish. I will not rest in peace before I do so. You are, of course, welcome to try. But you are sorely underestimating me if you think you are more than a match for me." Removing the bow from where it hung on her back, Sylvanas gripped it at the ready, inviting the paladin to make the first move. And he would have, if the World Tree had not intervened.

Enough of this!

At the imperial tone in that command, Arlen stopped himself in mid-swing. Every one of them, even the undead Sylvanas, turned their heads towards the gigantic tree.

There will be no violence here, not in the base camp of the Sentinels! Sylvanas, Arlen, cease this at once!

Grudgingly, Arlen lowered his warhammer. Sylvanas held her bow out a while longer, then lowered it as well.

"Why, Yggdrassil? Why would you ask this traitor of all that is living to join us?" Arlen protested. At this, Sylvanas unexpectedly flared up.

"Traitor? You dare brand me a traitor? I was the one who was betrayed! Speak not to me of betrayal, human, or I'll bring you down where you stand!" Emotions running high, the fight looked like it was about to break out once again, when the World Tree said her piece once more.

I said, enough!

This time, the mental command bordered on a shout. The impact of the telepathic message was so large that the would-be combatants dropped their weapons to their sides immediately.

Whether any of you like it or not, we need her power in order to succeed. She is right; our chances of triumph are slim, and we require all the help we can acquire. She is from the enemy's camp herself; she alone will provide valuable insight on the enemies' strengths and weaknesses.

Predictably, Arlen was the one who brought up yet another protest. "How are you sure we can trust her? For all we know, she's here gathering intelligence on us and our troops, to report back to her undead lord and master!"

She has no lord or master, Arlen. She has her own motives for coming here. Just as we need her, she needs us as well, for alone she has no hope of carrying out her plans. Isn't that right, Sylvanas? Glaring, Sylvanas kept silent, refusing to answer the question. Arlen looked like he was about to flare up again at her silence, thus Thrall hurriedly interrupted.

"I do not know you, stranger. But if Yggdrassil is willing to cast her vote with you, I will accept you, for it is true that victory is far and out of reach now. If you are willing to aid us against the Scourge on the battlefield, then I shall place my faith in you as well."

"Regardless of what you are now, noble elven blood still ran once in your veins. You cannot have forgotten all the integrity and honor of the Elven race. I choose to trust you as well." This from Tyrande, and beside her Malfurion nodded his agreement. Bereft of any allies to support him in the argument, Arlen cast an angry gaze about helplessly, then let the head of his warhammer sink to the ground.

"Fine! I will accept this foul being into our camp for now. But be warned, dark one! If I detect any signs of betrayal from you, my hammer's justice shall be swift!" Sylvanas smiled.

"I wouldn't have it any other way."

--

Felwood was once a land of primal power, a pure and simple place where the strong lived and the weak perished. As such, the land developed into one with creatures who adapted swiftly to environmental changes, with strength and power to match. The tauren, harpies and centaurs were fierce warriors in their own right, and while the occasional tribal war broke out amongst the races, they had nothing but respect for each other's combat prowess. Game was plentiful, and amidst the barren, brown soil of the Felwood was the occasional oasis that gave the life-sustaining water to the land.

Now, all of that was gone. Since the advance party of the Scourge first reached the land of Felwood, nothing could halt their advance. The centaurs had fallen first, and subsequent conquests had grown ever easier as the undead ranks grew with every living being slain. Everywhere the undead army touched, the land began to decay, until not a single living organism existed in the land. Even the earth was twisted beyond recognition, as an unholy blight settled across the land and transformed it from its rich, dark brown to the deep black of despair.

On the fifth day of the Scourge's arrival, Arthas and his army had established a base camp at the foot of Mount Hyjal, where the World Tree stood. Thus far, encounters with troops from this so-called Sentinel had been few and in between, and in each case they had not been able to capture any of them. The one patrol they had cornered had set fire to their own bodies, and not even the arcane might of the Death Knight could raise the bodies of charred, incomplete skeletons and still have them function.

As such, Arthas knew nothing about what to expect.

This infuriated him. The tribes of Felwood had been easy to defeat, not only because of the swelling bulk of his army, but also because of the information he had gathered from the raised bodies from the battlefield. This time, information about the Sentinel base and their troops was precious little. What scouting parties the knight sent out never returned, while Shade reports were cut off in the middle of the telepathic transmission. Arthas could only assume that one – or more – of their opponents had True Seeing, but that was all he could surmise from the Shades' reports.

It was with this piece of news that Arthas greeted his generals with at a meeting on the night of the fifth day since their arrival. Gathered around a map of Kalimdor, Arthas called the meeting to a start.

"Good evening, gentlemen. Firstly, I must congratulate all of you on your recent victories over the tribes of Felwood. The slaughter has provided our troops with vast reinforcements, and we will need them to overrun the Sentinel base. However, many of the bodies were… maimed beyond repair, and could not be raised. I hope all of you will take note of this in the future…" Arthas' gaze came to rest on a winged demon opposite him. Balnazzar only laughed and spread his hands in a gesture of denial.

"Surely you do not accuse me, Arthas?"

Arthas snorted. "No matter. I have not called on you all today to discuss battlefield etiquette. As all of you are aware, we begin the final march onto Mount Hyjal tomorrow. In order to triumph over these Sentinels, I require all of you to listen to me now.

"We are currently here, at the base of Mount Hyjal itself." Removing a gauntlet, Arthas thrust his finger onto the map indicating their position. "Now, there are three routes where we might take to reach the Sentinel base. One heading towards the east, then north; another towards the north, then the east; finally, one towards the north-east, a direct and straightforward approach." Arthas quickly traced the paths towards the Sentinel base in order.

Balnazzar spoke up. "Why waste time on the other two, then? It seems clear to me that the shortest way to victory is via the middle route. Let us go that way, and storm the base down with our overwhelming power!"

Beside him, the lich Kel' Thuzad added his opinion to the table. "Rash though it may be, that may be the key to our victory, my liege. The World Tree grows ever stronger by the day; surely the power it has expended to return our master to His prison has been all but restored to it. If we delay, we might lose our chance of triumph."

Arthas shook his head. "No, lich. It would require a lot of time for that blasted plant to regain its powers. Time is on our side, now. If we were to take such a direct approach, we would fall easily into any number of tactics and traps they might have prepared beforehand. Being the quickest route to the base, they will be sure to defend that road strongest."

This time, it was a large, overgrown insect that spoke. "Then which one should we take, Death Knight? The northern and eastern paths are about the same. It makes no difference which road we lead our army through," said Anub'arak.

"We will not take just one road, Anub'arak.

"We will take all three."

--

They come!

At the base of World Tree, the five leaders of the Sentinel glanced at it in response to the mental transmission it had sent to them. For a moment, they stood stock still.

"Finally…" Thrall tightened his grip on his hammer.

"Does everyone remember their battle plans?" Arlen asked tersely. He was systematically tightening and loosening his grip on his own warhammer, a habit of his when he was facing an imminent battle. Around him, heads nodded their agreement. Anxiety could be sensed throughout the camp, and every soldier knew that perhaps they would not be returning alive that day. Only Sylvanas remained impassive and silent.

"Well then. Good luck, all of you." Malfurion said to the group, as the three wooden gates shuddered open with the creaks of rope against worn wood. "May we all see through this alive." Arlen hesitated for a moment, then walked to the centre of the camp, where all could see him with little difficulty.

"Humans, orcs and elves! I am Arlen, leader of the human survivors of Azeroth. Listen to my words!" As Arlen began his speech, the other four in the group retreated to the shadows of the World Tree.

Will you not spur your people on? The World Tree's tone was amused, as it asked its question.

Malfurion smiled. "We figured that he needed to let off a little aggression before the battle. Besides, none of us have ever felt the need for such… theatrics. Arlen seemed like the best man for this job."

"Brothers and sisters, this war is finally coming to an end. Here and now, we will crush the Scourge! For the loved ones we have lost in this long, bloody war, and for the loved ones that we have now around us, I swear to you, we will triumph!" As his speech came to a close, Arlen lifted his warhammer aloft. Calling upon the Light to bless him, a shower of golden light poured down from the heavens, surrounding the paladin.

The army burst into cheers. Orcs, elves and humans alike waved their weapons in the air and roared their determination as one. When the disarray had settled, Arlen made his way back towards the group.

"Nice speech," Sylvanas smirked. Arlen flushed, but wisely kept his mouth shut to prevent yet another fight from breaking out. It was enough trouble keeping the men from assaulting the undead woman; it would not do for them to see their commanding officer attacking her. Ignoring her veiled insult, he turned to his other allies.

"Well. Here we part, then. May the Light be with you, all of you."

Thrall lifted his hammer in the customary manner. "And may the spirits guide you all, as well."

The group stood looking at each other for a while more, then separated and made their way towards their own designated gates.

--

A/N: Okay finally another chapter done and ready. This has felt like it's been DRAGGED out of me, literally. I tried very hard to bring about this chapter, and I think it'll only be yet more uphill battles before I reach the hero-on-hero duels I had in mind that I started this fanfiction with!

That said, you'll notice some changes in the story, namely the positioning of the two base camps. I switched the places of the Sentinel and Scourge camps around, mainly because of the geographic positioning of the two places. If you actually went to look it up, Mount Hyjal opens only to Winterspring on the southeast and Felwood on the west, so I chose Felwood over Winterspring due to the reference in the Warcraft III campaign.

Also, in case you're wondering, no, they did not move the Frozen Throne into Felwood. I don't think that's even possible. If they could, the Lich King wouldn't need to escape from his prison, would he? The Frozen Throne will still be in the picture, but you'll have to wait for me to get there in the story to find out, won't you?

Well, that's another chapter put away. Enjoy the read, and once again I hope you can give me any kind of constructive feedback at all. See you next chapter!