Silvermoon

Darkness loomed over the High Elf capital of Silvermoon. It seemed almost yesterday that the Undead Scourge had arrived at the gates of Quel'thalas, breaking through the runestones that had held off the Amani Trolls for thousands of years. All of their defenses had failed. Even the High Elves' Ranger General, Sylvanas Windrunner, had fallen…and now she marched against her homeland, a twisted banshee, her spirit stolen by undeath.

The horde of Undead was closing in on the walls of Silvermoon now, intent on its destruction. But they had one more obstacle left: the army of Quel'thalas, the legion of High Elves that had protected their nation for centuries. They would not give up without a fight.

One of the High Elves in the front lines tightened his grip on his broadsword as the enemy approached. He was tall and rugged, his bright yellow hair cut into short spikes that fit neatly underneath his helm. His armor covered him almost entirely, a heavily polish steel skin adorned with golden ruins. He took a deep breath, and, as he breathed out, the golden runes on his armor glowed with holy Light, the magic of a paladin. He turned to the Elf behind him and said, "Ready, Kaesinis?"

"Don't worry, Raiv'zel, I'm ready," Kaesinis said with a grim chuckle. Kaesinis was a stark contrast to Raiv'zel; his hair was long and flowed onto his back, his two long, tentacle-like bangs framing his face. Instead of heavy steel armor, he wore a rich silk robe intertwined with mana-laced spell thread that gave him a faint blue aura. A short dagger hung in his belt, pitifully small compared to Raiv'zel's broadsword, but the undersized blade glowed with a cold, blue glow. Kaesinis's hands crackled with mana, the mage barely able to contain his anxiousness.

They were a mage-paladin team, one of the many two man teams of High Elves that spread throughout the defenders. They had fought together against Trolls, Orcs, Ogres and worse over the centuries they had known each other. But now they faced a much dire threat: less than a mile ahead of them, the Undead were advancing.

The Undead charged with a sickening cry. Ghouls, walking corpses, many of whom were fallen warriors who had already fallen to the Undead Scourge, formed the first wave of the undead swarm. They surged forward on all fours, rotting flesh falling off their bones as they mindlessly charged.

Raiv'zel positioned himself in front of Kaesinis, his broadsword the only thing standing in the way of his mage charge and the hordes of walking corpses. Behind him, Kaesinis drew magic into his hands, altering it from an intangible force into a dense, frozen ball. Around them, the rest of the High Elf defenders prepared similarly as they awaited the first wave of the enemy.

A ghoul in the front row of Undead quickened its pace and sprinted ahead of the rest of the host, its lifeless eyes fixed squarely on Raiv'zel. The ghoul covered its last few yards in a giant bound, its jagged teeth slavering as it smelled living flesh. Raiv'zel's sword glowed bright with the Light and flashed in an arc, the blessed metal searing through tainted flesh. The ghoul's remaining tissue ignited as the holy magic burned through it; it was ashes before it hit the ground.

The next ghouls barreled down on the Elvin defenders en mass, a hapless few corpses trampled into the ground by the more zealous zombies as they all dashed forward.

When the bulk of the Undead were within ten yards, an officer screamed "FIRE!" As the order came down the line, Kaesinis and the rest of the High Elf mages in the second row released their spells at the enemy. Kaesinis's ball of ice shot forward leaving a streak of frozen water vapor behind it. The ball hit a ghoul square in the chest and punched through its rotted ribcage into the zombie behind it. As it hit the second ghoul, Kaesinis said the second part of the spell. The frozen mana in the ball detonated, sending shards of jagged ice in all directions. The ghoul it hit initially was torn to pieces and those closed to it were shredded by the icy shrapnel.

The rest of the fire wave of Undead shared a similar fate, either cut to ribbons by ice mages or burnt to ashes by those spell casters who preferred fire. The remaining ghouls continued on mindlessly and were cut down by the front row of warriors.

The High Elves did not stop to celebrate their small victory; behind the field of felled Undead, another wave was coming. This time though, there were other horrors besides ghouls; amidst the swarming corpses, crude mechanical contraptions rolled forward billowing clouds of green rot behind them. Walking astride the machines were humans dressed in dark robes carrying staffs topped with animal skulls and dark talismans. Every now and then, one of the humans would stop and point his staff at a fallen ghoul that had been crushed beneath his mindless brethren. The human would chant a few dark words and green magic would seethe from his staff into the corpse, awakening the skeleton within to stand and marched forward.

"Necromancers," spat Raiv'zel, his armor glowing as his rage built.

"See what happens when you teach mortals magic?" sneered Kaesinis. He brought his hands together and began crafting a new spell. "They don't learn it properly."

The new Ghouls came just as the first, mindlessly throwing themselves at the enemy. But the necromancers and the machines held back from the rest of the wave. The High Elves dealt with the second wave of Ghouls the same as they had with the first, but this time, as the mages release their spells into the ranks of zombies, the necromancers acted. A corpse was loaded onto a long arm of the machines, and after a creaking of ill machine gears, the arm shot forward and flung the rotting projectile forward, but not before the necromancers cast their spells. As the bodies flew forward, the necromancer's spell seeped into the lifeless forms, and infesting the already rotting flesh with dark mana.

The diseased projectiles flew through the air, leaving clouds of plague trailing in their wake. The archers positioned in the High Elf host trained their arrows and let them fly, their arrowheads coated in magic. When two missiles collided, the spells in the arrow released, obliterating the corpses with arcane energy. But even with the excellent aim of the archers, some bodies still landed in the High Elf ranks. They exploded where they landed, showering the Elves with plagued bits of flesh and blood. The gore began to spread decay on anything it touched. Those covered with the fetid matter died instantly.

With their first distraction of Ghouls gone, the necromancers turned to the machines. They opened holds in the contraptions, and fresh corpses spilled out. The human spellcasters poured their magic into the bodies to animate them, and within a few seconds a new third wave of Undead began to take to their feet and form around the necromancers and their meat wagons.

Kaesinis watched the whole thing, the spell he had been preparing unfired and surging with mana. Now that he knew why the necromancers had held back, he knew the way to inflict maximum damage. He released the spell, but instead of directing it as a ball of ice as he had the first one, he gave this new one a different purpose. Above the nearest cluster of Undead and their machine, he opened a portal between his magic and the sky above his targets. He discharged the rest of his spell into the portal, and from above the Undead large shards of ice began to fall. The magic blizzard tore into them, rending flesh, sheering bone and tearing the machines to scrap metal. Other mages followed Kaesinis's lead, and the third wave of Undead was engulfed in blizzards and pillars of fire before it could begin its march.

But the triumph was short lived. As soon as the dust had cleared, a new swarm appeared, trampling over the remains of their predecessors. The ghouls, necromancers and meat wagons were joined by hulking abominations, oversize monstrosities that seeped fetid blood and billowed clouds of disease and plague from their open wounds. The new horde was larger than all the others combined, the Scourge's main force, intent on breaking the High Elf's lines.

"Damn," cursed someone in the line. "This isn't good. We're outnumbered at least two to one." The nervous elf was quickly shushed; such thoughts would not help them now.

Kaesinis surveyed the scene calmly as he drew the magic to him to prepare his next spell. "Are you ready, Raiv'zel?" asked the mage once again.

The Paladin's armor glowed brightly as he let the holy light sure up his defenses and spread across to the other Elves around them, bathing them all in a warm glow. "Ready, Kaesinis."

Once again, the ghouls reached the Elves first, with plague infested corpses flying high over their heads. The rotting projectiles were mostly shot down, but those that got through wrecked havoc where they landed. To add to the troubles, more ghouls got through to the front rank of warriors as the mages conserved their mana for the rest of the Undead coming up behind them. One or two unlucky elves fell as the zombies got in a lucky bite or claw, but the line held against the first assault. And then the abominations hit.

The first few were assailed by magic, but spells that would have annihilated a ghoul only tore a chunk out of the mass of flesh, barely hindering its advance. A few of the monster fell, their heads sheared off with ice or incinerated by fire. Kaesinis scored a direct hit, succeeding in crushing his target's skull with a compact ball of ice that kept going, finally landing in the bowls of a meat wagon before the mage detonated it, wiping out the machine and its necromancers.

The abominations that reached the High Elf ranks set upon the defenders with bloody cleavers and meat hooks as they choked those around them with their clouds of disease. Behind them, more ghouls surged forth and leapt into the disarrayed Elves, snarling and salivating as their twisted jaws tasted warm blood.

Raiv'zel stared down an approaching abomination, dodging its sickle shaped hook and parrying the beast's cleaver. With a burst of Light enhanced strength, Raiv'zel rammed his blessed blade into the abomination. The rotting flesh burned on contact with the paladin's sword, and the creature let out a last gargling cry before the unholy spell animating it was unraveled by the holy magic Raiv'zel drove into it.

As Raiv'zel tried to pull his sword from the felled beast, a ghoul bounded towards the paladin and grabbed his armor. But before the undead could sink his teeth into the Elf, the holy magic wrapped around Raiv'zel's armor burned the ghoul's flesh on contact. The zombie jumped back in pain, only to be caught in the gut by a ball of ice thrown by Kaesinis. The spell carried the ghoul back into its brood where it detonated, blowing a small dent in the undead ranks. But the mass continued to plow forward heedlessly.

Raiv'zel readied his sword in time for the next ghouls, one of which he sliced in half as a flash of holy Light cremated another. Behind him, Kaesinis rapid fired balls of ice into the undead, blowing chunks of rotting flesh into the salivating mouths of the other zombies. But even as the two of them held out against the onslaught, other defenders were not so lucky. Even as the latest force of Undead dwindled, dashed against the rocks of the High Elves' resolve, more came to take their place. One by one, the defenders started to fall, caught underneath the rushing tide of walking corpses.

Then, a shriek rang out across the battlefield. From above, winged creatures flew towards the defenders. The Elvin archer's trained their bows and let fly, scoring hits on some of the creatures and knocking them from the sky. One of them landed close to Kaesinis, and from the corner of his eye he saw was it was: a gargoyle, a bat-like monster with sharp talons and vicious fangs. The monster's wing was blown off by the arrow's magic, and even though it had fallen from the sky, the beast was still alive. It shrieked and twitched a few times, then its hide turned to grey stone and its body froze. Its stump of a wing began to grow back before the mage's eyes. Kaesinis quickly formed a lance of ice and rammed it into the beast's chest, trying to kill it before it could recuperate. The magic ice shattered against the tough stone skin.

"Raiv'zel!" The paladin turned and saw the fallen beast. "Finish it!" Raiv'zel cut through the ghoul he had been dealing with, then ran over to the gargoyle and impaled it with his sword. The stone gave way to the blessed metal, and the beast shrieked before crumbling to dust.

The gargoyles continued to circle despite the archers, swooping down on the defending army, grasping an elf in its talons and carrying it up towards the sky, where they would either rip the hapless soldier to pieces or send him plummeting to his doom on the ground below.

Another cry vibrated through the sky, but this one came from behind the walls of Silvermoon. Dragonhawk riders, High Elf defenders riding the giant, brightly colored birds that the High Elves had bred since the founding of Quel'thalas, came out from the walls of Silvermoon to engage the gargoyles with spells and sharp lances. Freed from having to keep their bows trained on the sky, the archers sent their bolts into the abominations to toward above the other undead, attempting to fell them before they could inflict damage.

Kaesinis held back a few ghouls with sprays of ice shards as Raiv'zel got back into his position in the line, though it could barely be called that. Most of the front ranks were dead now, leaving the mages to deal with not only the charging Undead, but the bodies of their fallen comrades that were now taking to their feet, the foul plague of undeath spread by the abominations twisting the fallen High Elves into the mindless ghouls they had fought against.

Despite their dwindling numbers, the High Elves continued to fight with all they had. Their lines shattered and the chain of command broken, the defenders broke off into groups, archers and mages standing in the center of a circle of the remaining warriors and paladins. The mages coordinated their fire, bringing down abominations with bursts of magic that felled the large undead and slew the smaller zombies close to them.

But every now and then an abomination would shatter a ring of defense, letting the ghouls in to swarm over the spellcasters, or a gargoyle would swoop in to tear the archers apart with their claws and fangs. The Dragonhawk riders attempted to keep the gargoyles at bay, but they were outnumbered and quickly pushed back, forced to defend the inner walls of Silvermoon from the marauding monsters. And every time the Undead won a skirmish, the defeated Elves would be raised by the necromancers to replace the ghouls that they had slain in life.

Kaesinis and Raiv'zel were not lucky enough to find a group; before their eyes they had watched as their comrades were cut down all around them. But they fought on, their bodies wrapped in Raiv'zel's Light as the paladin carved through the undead and Kaesinis threw spell after spell.

Anywhere else, the vast amount of spells that Kaesinis had cast would have drained him of his stores of mana. But he was in Quel'thalas, at the gates to Silvermoon, defending his nation. A few miles behind them, past the high walls, defended by the most powerful golems that the High Elves could ever create, was the Sunwell, the source of the Elves' magic. Kaesinis could feel it empowering him, feeding him, giving him all the mana he could ever need. As long as he could draw from the Sunwell, he would never run out of mana.

Filled with the Light, Raiv'zel knew that he could fight on as long as his body was whole, and each ghoul he incinerated or abomination he struck down strengthened his resolve. He would not falter now, in his homeland's time of need. He was bound by oath not only to Quel'thalas, but also, as a paladin of the Knight of the Silver Hand, to defeat the dark forces in the name of the Light. He held that ideal in his head as he fought on, holding himself against the stream of Undead.

Kaesinis and Raiv'zel fought back to back now, spinning around so that Raiv'zel could bring his sword to bear against approaching enemies making Kaesinis free to pick off any abominations or gargoyles that got too close.

Suddenly, Kaesinis's strength began to waver. He felt it slightly at first, a small fatigue in the back of his mind. Then it grew stronger, and his spells grew weaker. The steady flow of mana from the Sunwell…it had stopped. The mage turned his head towards Silvermoon, towards the Court of the Sunwell. The sky had darkened. Instead of the warm radiance of the eternal fountain of magic that give the High Elves their magic, through strength, and their immortality, there was a cold dread.

An abomination lumbered forward from the undead ranks, blood cleaver raised and ready to strike. Kaesinis's arm shot out and, with instinct overriding the knowledge of his dwindling strength, he cast a bolt of frost at the abomination's head. The ball of ice shards tore through the abomination's head and sent him falling to the ground, but it came at a high cost.

The spell had exhausted Kaesinis's remaining mana. In a place where there had always been a feeling of power full to burst, there was now emptiness. He could feel his limbs wavering underneath him. Suddenly the world faded to black. The mage lost consciousness.

Raiv'zel watched in horror as Kaesinis fell. Without hesitation, he grabbed the mage and flung him over his shoulder, his friend's need overriding the truth that he would now be fighting inhibited. He drove his sword into the ground, filling the soil with his holy mana. The consecrated earth glowed with the power of the Light, burning through the undead surrounding the paladin. The surrounding area temporarily cleared, Raiv'zel threw up a divine shield around him and Kaesinis, wrapping them in a bubble of Light. Knowing that the shield would not hold, Raiv'zel ran as fast as he could through the throngs of undead, rotting claws scrapping vainly against the barrier as the ghouls tried to break through to the living flesh beneath.

Here and there a High Elf or two held out, but as Raiv'zel rushed to get Kaesinis to safety, he saw each of them fall, either to an Undead's attack or to the same sudden fatigue that had gripped Kaesinis. His eyes watered with tears as he saw soldiers, many of whom he had know and all of which were his brothers in arms, fell one by one. But there was nothing he could do now; the army was broken and routed. All he could do now as get himself and his charge to safety, to live to fight another day.

Raiv'zel didn't stop even after he had quit running into Undead. He had never run from a battle before, never in his whole life, and even though it was the dishonorable thing to do, sanity overrode honor.

The battle was lost; the Sunwell was lost; Silvermoon was lost; Quel'thalas was lost; all was lost.

Author's note:

Thank you for reading! This will be the last of my stories set in the World of Warcraft. I've since stopped playing dude to school and such, so it's been hard to get inspired/do in-game research. If you like my style, however, please check out my other stories, which includes a few original ones on my fictionpress page (the link to which is on my profile page) and a Pokemon fanfic that I'm working on where I'm trying to bring some dark realism to the series.

Thanks again,

Vaesinis