Malles jerked awake. He immediately stood up and gazed out the window, cursing himself for sleeping. The axe lay next to him as he checked the deserted streets for any signs of danger. Earlier he had heard moans and seen flashes of orange light, but now it was all quiet. He went into the bedroom to check on his mother and sister. They were both asleep, lying next to assorted dinner plates and wooden utensils.

A knock on the door made him jump a mile. He grabbed the axe and ran to the door, pressing himself against the wall. "Who is it?"

"Malles, it's me."

Bobby's voice was music to his ears. Malles flung the door open and embraced his father. Relief flooded through him. It wasn't until then that he realized how scared he had been. Scared the house would be attacked, scared he would have to fight, and scared his father wouldn't make it back. But now that Bobby was here everything would be okay.

Bobby returned the hug. "How are they doing?"

Malles stepped back. "They're asleep."

Bobby stepped through the door and closed it. He locked it behind him. "Go wake them up. Bring them out to the kitchen."

Malles went back into the bedroom and lightly shook Jen. She slowly opened her eyes and looked at him. Her piercing green eyes regarded him wearily. "Five more minutes."

"Jenny Jen." Malles smiled at her. "Dad's home."

Jensine rubbed her eyes and sat up. "Where is he?"

"The kitchen," Malles told her. He took her hand and guided her off the bed. "He wants to see you."

"Okay." Jensine yawned and walked out of the room. Malles roused his mother and followed her. They found Bobby sitting at the head of the table, hugging Jensine. Despite Jensine's rather annoying habits and personality, Malles cared for her deeply. She was still a teenager, young and innocent. Light willing she'd get through the night without anything damaging that. Marley kissed her husband's cheek and took the seat next to him, while Malles stood.

Bobby got straight to the point. "Hearthglen is under attack."

Jensine looked up. "What?"

Malles winced. So much for childhood innocence. "The Horde –"

Bobby cut him off. "No. Not the Horde."

Malles was confused. "Who, then? Bandits?"

Bobby shook his head. "I won't say who or what. All you need to know is that there is an enemy laying siege to the town."

Marley looked shock. "But why Hearthglen? We have nothing of value. We're just simple peasants, why not Andorhal or Stratholme?"

"I don't know," said Bobby. "But I do know the attack isn't over."

Malles did not like this one bit. Neither did Jensine. She didn't say anything, though, just snuggled closer to her father. That was unheard of for her; once Jensine had something to say, she said it. "So what are we going to do?" Malles asked.

"You all will stay here. I'm going to help the militia." Bobby's face was emotionless. "Malles, you have your bow, correct?"

Malles nodded. "I'm going to need my axe," Bobby told him. "Get your bow and stay here with your mother and sister. I'm heading out."

"No!" Jensine gripped her father's shirt. "Papa, stay. Please?"

Bobby kissed the top of her head. He picked her up, hugged her, and put her on the ground. "I'll be right back, Jen. I promise."

There was a loud knocking on the door. Malles glanced at it frantically, but Bobby remained calm. The undead wouldn't knock. He went to the door and opened it. "Yes?"

There was a short man holding a bulging bag over his shoulder. "Archmage Rak has spoken with Governor Fordring. On the governor's orders, all bread from the granary has been requisitioned to be distributed amongst the villagers for the duration of the siege." The man reached into his bag and withdrew three loaves of bread. "For your family, sir."

Bobby took the loaves and nodded. Apparently Rak shared Bobby's thoughts. It was a good idea, since no one knew how long this siege would last. "Thank you." Bobby closed the door and went back to his family. He placed the bread on the table. "Marley, have you eaten?"

Marley nodded. "But we saved you some meat. You can take it with you." She took the bread. "I'll store these somewhere safe."

Bobby hugged Jensine once more, then kissed Marley. And with a nod at Malles, Bobby retrieved his hatchet and left.

About twenty minutes later, Bobby was positioned outside the town gates, axe in hand and rifle over his shoulder. A pouch of ammo was tied to his belt. Across the road from him stood another guard, recruited from the local population. The militiamen who had fled during the initial attack were tracked down and ordered back to the town wall.

Wall, they called it. It was little more than a pile of wood marking the town boundaries. This wall wouldn't stop a small child, let alone an army of undead. Bobby knew a losing battle when he saw one, and this one was a doozy.

We are so fucked.

There was a small pop as Rak blinked into existence between them. "All quiet, then?"

Bobby's partner, named Carroc, nodded. "Nothing to report."

Rak looked from him to Bobby. "You two have rations?"

Bobby pointed to a small knapsack on the ground behind him. Inside were a hunk of dried meat and a loaf of bread. "Rak, is there any way we could get help from anyone? Andorhal is only a day's run down the hill, and Stratholme actually has a trained militia."

Rak shook his head. "The woods will be crawling with undead. And we cannot spare any men for runners."

"But, you're a mage," Carroc said. "Couldn't you just teleport somewhere and bring back an army?"

Rak clapped him on the shoulder. "I have already sent word to Andorhal telling them to send all the fighters they can muster." He smiled. "Everything is taken care of."

Bobby was looking down the road. At first, he wasn't quite sure what he was seeing. But once he figured it out, he look in a deep breath and yelled out a warning. "Make way for the King's men!"

Rak jumped in shock. He followed Bobby's gaze and stared at the banner fluttering in the night breeze. Behind the banner marched about thirty men in columns of three. In front of it marched an armored soldier, a robed woman, and...

"Make way for Prince Arthas Menethil!"

Bobby was smiling. Everything would work out now. Somehow, the capital city knew about their plight. Obviously Andorhal contacted them. And Prince Arthas himself had answered the call. Everyone knew Arthas. He was the only son of King Terenas, and a powerful paladin of the Silver Hand. Arthas and his troops had recently slaughtered a rampaging band of Blackrock orcs. An undead outbreak would mean nothing to his trained and experienced soldiers.

Rak was also grinning. "Take a seat, men. Eat a bite of bread, you must be starving. I will go rally our troops." He muttered as he cast another blinking spell, and in a flash of blue light he was gone.

Bobby and Carroc stood as Arthas and his men marched towards them. When they came to the gate Arthas raised a fist into the air, signaling a halt. Bobby bowed low. "Prince Arthas. We're glad you answered our call."

Arthas did not look like the strong blond-haired man Bobby knew. In fact, Arthas was looking a little haggard. He was decked in plate armor, with a war hammer strapped across his back, but his face was drenched in sweat. The woman next to him had dark circles around her eyes. Both of them were covered in dirt from the road. "Call?" Arthas looked at him in surprise. "I was summoned?"

Carroc began digging into his own knapsack. "Yes, milord," Bobby told him. "We sent out a call for aid to Andorhal barely minutes ago. Did they not summon you?"

"Andorhal?" the woman said.

Something about this wasn't right. "Prince Arthas. During the night, a group of undead attacked our town. We drove them back into the forest, but now we think they might be coming back."

"Damn!" Arthas turned to the woman next to him. "Jaina, go back to Lordaeron and tell Lord Uther what has happened."

Lord Uther? But surely Arthas and his men could handle such a small group of undead. Carroc looked at Bobby in confusion as he bit into his bread. The woman next to Arthas muttered something, and like Rak disappeared in a flash of blue light.

"Soldier." Bobby straightened as Arthas addressed him. "Take me to your watch commander."

"He was slain during the first attack, my Prince." Bobby motioned behind him. "There is a Kirin Tor mage directing our defenses. I can take you to him."

Arthas nodded and turned to the soldier behind him. "Falric, I'll leave you in charge of positioning the men. Make sure they have plenty of water in their skins, and try and get them some food."

The man saluted and began shouting orders. Arthas turned back to Bobby and followed him into the town square. Bobby began looking around for Rak, unsure of how to find him. Arthas gazed around at the men and their shoddy armor and weapons. "You are ill-prepared for a fight."

Bobby nodded. "Most of our militia is untrained. But now that you're here, we should have no problem."

"I'm not so sure of that." Before Bobby could ask what he meant, Arthas stopped. His eyes were wide. "Soldier, what did those crates contain?"

Bobby followed his gaze. Arthas was staring at a pile of empty wooden boxes. "Just bread from our local granary. There's no need to worry, milord. We've already distributed it amongst the townspeople."

Arthas was looking pale. Bobby couldn't understand why the prince would be acting like this. Surely bread wasn't that big of a deal. But apparently it was, because Arthas was still looking at the crates. "Where did you get the grain for the bread?"

Bobby gave him a quizzical look. "Most of our shipments come from Andorhal." He raised an eyebrow. "Is there a problem, Prince Arthas?"

"Defend yourselves!"

Bobby's axe was up and ready at the yell for battle. He looked around for danger, and found it almost immediately. A group of undead were charging the gates…from the inside. They swarmed over the surprised defenders and tore into them.

How?

Arthas was moving already. His hammer swung around and knocked aside three undead at once. It glowed with Light as Arthas attacked, a frantic look upon his face. Bobby and several other men ran to join him. Fortunately, there were only six of the monsters, and together they quickly eliminated the undead.

Bobby was bewildered. How did the undead get through? There were only two gates into town, both of which were guarded. And they couldn't have gotten through the wall without punching a hole in it.

"Don't eat the bread!"

Arthas and his men were running around, snatching food away from the militia. "The bread is contaminated!" Arthas yelled. "Do not eat the bread!"

Bobby looked at Arthas like he had just sprouted a second head. His gaze went from the prince to the piled of undead bodies, confused. Then Bobby spotted a familiar face staring blankly in his direction. It was Carroc. Only then did it click.

It all made sense. How the undead literally appeared overnight, right in the middle of town. And how they did it again, just now. The bread did this. It was the bread that made the townspeople die and raised them again into cannibalistic monsters.

Bobby's eyes widened in horror. Did he not just put that same bread in his family's house?

Bobby had never run so fast in his life. But he only got three feet before there was a flash of blue light and he hit something soft. Rak was knocked to the ground, where he lay groaning. "Rak!" Bobby yelled. "You have to get the bread recalled. That plague you were talking about, it's in the bread!"

Rak climbed to his feet. "I know! I'm handling it!"

Bobby was about to move past him when there was a great flash of light. It blinded him momentarily, but he could hear Rak scream and a loud crunching sound. When his vision cleared he saw Rak bleeding on the ground a good ten feet away. Arthas was standing over him, hammer drawn and glowing.

"Necromancer," Arthas spat. "You had a hand in this, didn't you?"

"Prince Arthas!" Bobby ran up to him and tried to pull the man away. But Arthas' men got to Bobby and pushed him away from Arthas. "You just killed our leader! That was the mage I told you about!"

"No…" Rak's chest was caved in. He laughed, coughing up blood as he did so. "The prince is…right."

Bobby was witnessing more kinds of crazy this night than he had during the entire Second War. "What?"

Rak laughed again. "I…brought the plague here myself….from Andorhal."

"Andorhal is nothing but a burned-out shell," Arthas growled, "festering with decay and disease. A group of necromancers calling themselves the Cult of the Damned has caused this plague. They've raised an army of undead and are using it to terrorize the countryside." He glared down at Rak. "But I killed your leader, cultist. And my men have routed his army from Andorhal."

Rak laughed again, dribbling blood down his chin. "Kel'thuzad was…a pawn. The real master calls to me…"

His body suddenly glowed black. Arthas reacted quickly, stepping back away from Rak. But Rak was suddenly up and moving, actually sprinting like mad towards the food Arthas had confiscated. Before anyone could stop him Rak pulled a hunk of bread from the pile and swallowed a large bite of it.

The result was instantaneous. The black glow suddenly expanded outward, followed by flashing blue sparks of magic. Every man in the vicinity retreated, weapons drawn. Bobby's axe was in his hands, but he felt no compulsion to use it. Fear gripped him like a vice as a wave of cold washed over him. When the light faded, Rak was no more. In his place, wearing identical robes, stood a skeleton. The skeleton glowed blue, it's light mixing in with the light coming from the purple runes on its robe.

"Rak is no more!" the monster yelled. "I am…COLDSKULL!"

Arthas' hammer flew through the air, glowing bright with the Light. But Coldskull raised his hand, and a wall of ice sprung from the ground and deflected it. "Yes! I am a god!" Coldskull roared.

Bobby had heard of these undead spellcasters only in legends and stories. He had written them off as fantasy, but this night had unleashed all kinds of things that shouldn't be real.

Lich…

The lich cackled. "You are mistaken, Prince Arthas. The troops you killed in Andorhal were but a fraction of our real fighting force. There are hundreds of undead at our beck and call, and we gain more every night!" Coldskull grinned at them. "The Master commands me to destroy this town. My army awaits me. Abandon hope, feeble humans, for the fall of Lordaeron begins today!"

In another flash of blue light, Coldskull disappeared. Almost immediately, the moans of the dead echoed around them. Screams from behind Bobby told him other townspeople had been converted. Arthas began barking out orders, directing the remaining troops for the coming assault.