I own nothing.
Chasing Through Hell
Storm's End
The sky churned and the ground rumbled. Maurus and about half of the Torn Wing hurtled down the slope after Ven'Zarul and his demons. The dreadlord had a significant lead after the delay Maurus had allowed, but Maurus paid it no heed except for keeping his strides as long as possible.
"Slow down, Cow. We can't keep up!" Arianna called.
Maurus looked back and saw that he and most of his tauren were indeed outpacing the others and made a decision.
"Tauren, with me. We'll hold them till you catch up," he called and immediately, he saw the rest of the tauren push their way toward him. Looking back down at the demons and noting the narrow formation they had adopted, he added: "Stick to the path they've set. Might be more mines."
"Cow!" Arianna called, anger in her voice.
"We've got this," Maurus answered, ignoring his own doubts and keeping his pace as all the tauren formed up around him. Behind them, Arianna cursed in Thalassian before shouting angrily at the others to up the pace and he found himself smirking.
As they rushed down the uneven, winding path, Maurus divided his attention between Ven'Zarul and the battlefield. The closest fel reaver was pumping out greasy, green smoke as it approached canyon. Above it, a swarm of flyers circled, demon and Horde. The windriders weaved and dodged through the demons with astonishing skill, though they got few kills.
He only realized what was going on when he noticed single windriders occasionally diving through the demons toward the fel reaver, pulling up at the same time that a small explosion rocked the demon machine. The demons were protecting the fel reaver from bombing runs with what was probably Widget's bombs and the windriders were focusing on breaking through rather than killing their enemies. The bombs once again showed themselves to be surprisingly destructive, making the fel reaver visibly twitch whenever one detonated against its metal hide.
Behind the fel reaver, the battle was raging with even more ferocity than before. At the northern side of the valley, blood elves and naga seemed to be making a push hard against the Aliance forces while the greater part of the enemy force, fel orcs and demons, were holding their position in the center of the valley. The wind was picking up again, pushing ruddy red storm clouds out over the valley and drowning out most sound, but Maurus could easily imagine the clamor of death and steel and fire. Even from this distance, he could see the flashes of spells and the flash of explosions and the fact that not all the flashes seemed to be combined barrages told him that there were some incredibly powerful casters down there among the massive, flowing formations. Once again, the sheer scale astonished him and his youthful lust for glory made him want to be in the thick of it, while his hard-won experience told him that he should be thankful to be on the edge of it.
Turning his gaze back to his quarry, he felt grim satisfaction at seeing they were indeed narrowing the gap. Despite many of the retreating demons being either his size of flying, his tauren were eating up the distance and he felt a vindictive pride in having taken Ven'Zarul's ability to fly from him.
This time, they would get him.
A sudden movement to his left made him glance east again. The fel reaver was staggering, a handful of boulders falling from where they had impacted its chest and the swarm of demons above it suddenly quivered like they felt the pain. Maurus' heart sank as a full third of the demons soared away from the fel reaver, setting a course almost due south, toward the artillery the Torn Wing had just captured. He felt a particular regret that he had let Widget convince him that she would be both safer and more use by the artillery.
'What's done is done,' he reminded himself harshly. 'And we can't make it back in time anyway.' The words were true, but it did nothing for the nausea in his stomach or the clenching in his chest and he ground his teeth as he watched the demons move.
The windriders didn't hesitate to take advantage of the diminished opposition. As one, they fell into steep dives and Maurus held his breath, only able to look away because he knew he would stumble and fall if he didn't also keep an eye on his footing.
More rocks impacted the fel reaver as the windriders dove and Maurus was now so close that he could faintly hear the clang of impact.
There was nothing faint about the flurry of explosions that followed though. The demons had miscalculated. Once again showing their insane bravery and incredible skill, the windriders streaked down the fel reaver's body, ignoring the demons and the fel reaver's fists. Some were batted out of the air by the fel reaver or intercepted by the demons, but most made it, pulling out of their dive just before crashing into the ground at its feet. As they zoomed off along the ground behind the fel reaver, the bombs they had carried detonated along the machine's knee and hip joints in a multitude of sharp cracks. Metal tore and green smoke poured out like lifeblood and the fel reaver's left leg collapsed beneath it.
Slowly, like a great tree falling, the fel reaver fell, looking decidedly odd as it made no effort to catch itself, collapsing out of sight with a mighty crash that sent up a cloud of green smoke and purple dust.
A triumphant roar rose from further back in the canyon and Maurus realized that the Horde flankers were even closer than he had thought, having probably only hung back to wait for the path to clear.
The sight of the metal behemoth falling also filled Maurus' chest with primal triumph, but it was tempered by the fear he felt for Widget and the others he had left behind up the slope. That fear lessened slightly as he saw the windriders turn back and follow the ascending demons, but cold reason told him they wouldn't be enough. The demons outnumbered the windriders and having to catch up wouldn't put the Horde flyers in a good position.
With effort, he pushed the worries aside, focusing on his rage, letting his fear feed it. Turning his attention back to Ven'Zarul, he saw that the tauren had at the very least gotten another stretch closer. He realized with dark glee that they were going to lessen the gap even further now, because the demons had changed direction, climbing northeast rather than northwest now.
It took a moment before Maurus figured out why: Ven'Zarul had been going toward the canyon, but the advancing Horde had made that route unusable, forcing him to use the slower route along the ridge.
With no warning, a blinding flash filled Maurus' vision, brighter than any lightning he had ever seen and no thunder followed it. Blinking the spots from his vision, he found that the clouds over the central battlefield had shrunk and lost their bloody hue. Directly below the now purple sky, a red giant as tall as the fel reavers had appeared in the midst of the demonic formation. Tongues of flame and something like a heat haze wreathed it, making its form somewhat indistinct, but he could still make out its general appearance. It looked like a male draenei, but its skin was a deep, bloody red and great bat-like wings sprouted from its back, hanging loose like a royal cloak. Wicked talons, two curling horns and ornate, wickedly spiked armor the color of ink further emphasized the creature's demonic appearance and showed that it had far more kinship with the demons around it than with the newest members of the Alliance. An eredar, one of the corrupted draenei, the leaders of the Legion. A few of them had appeared in the largest battles, but they were never so large nor had he ever heard of any of them with wings.
A frozen moment passed, before something clicked in Maurus' mind, almost hesitantly, like he had been reluctant to even consider it. He had heard of one winged eredar, when Arianna had reluctantly educated him on the Legion. In a hushed voice, she had told him of the Legion's acting leader, Kil'jaeden, Archimonde's equal and previous co-leader, the most powerful and insidious demon alive and the Dark Titan's favored servant.
His step faltered and his breath stuck in his throat. A deep chill crept into his bones and his heart beat rabbit-quick in his chest, even as his mind refused to accept the idea. One thing Arianna had been adamant about had been that The Deceiver lived up to his name, never taking direct action and always acting through pawns.
No matter Maurus' incredulity, the appearance of the red giant made an instant impression down in the valley. A roar he could hear even from this distance rose from thousands of demonic throats and the assembled forces of the Horde and the Alliance rippled like a field of grass in a breeze, visibly quailing. It was the worst possible time for that to happen, because in the far distance, Maurus could just make out a tide of red and black crawl over the north-western horizon, heading directly toward the Alliance to the north.
Kil'jaeden was not facing the Horde and Alliance formations though. For a single terrified moment, Maurus got the ridiculous impression that the demon was looking at him before he realized that his burning gaze must be on Tempest Keep and the manaforge, which were directly between Maurus and the demon lord.
Kil'jaeden's focus did not make the Horde or Alliance safe however. As he began walking toward the manaforge, his step casual and relaxed, he almost absently made a complicated gesture and a sea of green flame enveloped several hundred Horde.
Maurus was almost surprised to realize he was still moving instead of simply staring in horror. Desperate for something to battle the despair that threatened him like a dark cloud, he forced his gaze forward, fixing it on Ven'Zarul, who had also slowed since the appearance of Kil'jaeden.
He felt another shock however, when Kil'jaeden spoke. He had a smooth, rumbling baritone, a voice that promised knowledge and truth and understanding like the succubi's promised pleasure and it swept out over the battlefield like a tidal wave, so clear over the howling wind that it could only be caused by magic. "Ah, Betrayer. True to your nature to the very end, spiting my mercy. Running to steal power from the Naaru this time. But you will not live long enough for your stolen Keep to exalt you. The power will be the Legion's."
Despite the threatening words, Maurus felt for a moment like he could listen to that voice forever, never gainsaying it. Then he felt sick. The eredar was named the Deceiver for a reason and was among the most dangerous and evil beings in existence, but Maurus felt an instinctive trust when he spoke. That his words could worm their way into his mind with such ease was terrifying.
Luckily, the eredar didn't continue to speak and with a feeling of faint disappointment that sickened him, Maurus turned his attention back on running, gaining speed quickly despite the uneven, shaking ground.
The terror he felt didn't ease however. Ven'Zarul's group was veering slowly to the right, and Maurus realized with a cold shock that they were half-way to the valley floor now and that their route was taking them toward the increasingly incandescent manaforge. They were still very close to their quarry, thankfully, but the race was truly on now.
Ahead, the Legion forces were arrayed, though thankfully facing the canyon and the west, rather than directly toward Maurus, but the fel reavers stood sentinel against the ever closer manaforge, surrounded by a contingent of blood elves and fel orcs. Above, seeming to cast a heavy shadow over Maurus, Tempest Keep loomed, the corona of colorful lightning seeming to have gained strength and making his fur stand on end and brush weirdly against the inside of his armor.
And from the center of the valley, the terrifying form of Kil'jaeden approached with long, lazy strides, showing his awesome power again by throwing out a hand and calling half a dozen infernals down onto the front rank of the Horde.
Something exploded with a sharp crack behind and to the right of Ven'Zarul's group, thankfully dragging Maurus' gaze from Kil'Jaeden. Next, a boulder hit in front of them, making the demons stumble, before another explosion smashed a rock to their left and then an explosion flashed almost in the middle of the group. Blood sprayed and demons and fel orcs fell to the ground, limp and wounded. Maurus bared his teeth as he saw even Ven'Zarul stumble, clutching at his side and glancing over his shoulder.
"Come on, tauren!" Maurus growled, putting on a burst of speed as the demons slowly rallied. Another explosion tore apart half a dozen fel orcs on the far left side of the demons while Ven'Zarul gestured with sudden urgency. The demons and fel orcs still on their feet reacted quickly, turning east, and Maurus felt a stab of disgust as he saw them not only leaving behind their wounded, but actually stooping to rip or cut open throats as they moved.
Keeping low, the demons sprinted forward and quickly disappeared behind a ridge that crossed the slope and blocked them from view from everyone further up the mountainside.
Maurus followed. His blood was pumping and the rage in him was screaming to hurl himself at Ven'Zarul, but a calmer voice told him that going straight to the edge of that ridge would be walking into an ambush, so he resumed his previous route. Beneath the ridge Ven'Zarul sheltered behind, uneven mounds and sharp cliffs spread like broken fingers, a path Ven'Zarul had previously avoided in favor of the faster open ground. But now that the demons were imperiled by artillery, they would probably follow the difficult but more shielding terrain.
Further down the slope, the cliffs shrank and vanished, leaving only open ground again. Maurus considered the cliffs, then looked up the slope, finding the rest of his group a fair ways behind his tauren. Thinking back to own speed when he had climbed the mountains between the Barrens and Ashenvale, he decided that they could reach the open ground before Ven'Zarul's group, even if they waited for the slower elements and waiting for Arianna and Slova so they could give ascertain Ven'Zarul's position would probably be wise.
So he called for a halt by the enemy wounded. Bone crushed wetly as his tauren began stomping the wounded without any prompting, while Maurus looked over toward the ridges. Succubi were circling above, keeping their movements erratic to give no indication of where the ground force was but it was not important. He was just about sure where they would come out and the lack of confirmed location did not keep his impromptu artillery crews from steadily bombarding the craggy area in general.
As he waited, struggling to ignore the jittery tension that screamed at him to release it in combat. he glanced down at the valley again.
A massive wave of Horde cavalry was sweeping out from the canyon, banners streaming like streaks of blood in the wind. Wolves howled, kodos bellowed and the riders screamed as they parted around the remains of the fel reaver and charged the Legion force. The demon line visibly shuddered to be in way of the charge, but it did hold.
That only got a second of attention, though, because he quickly turned his gaze to the area around the manaforge, astonishment making his eyes widen. None of the four fel reavers had turned to join that battle. Instead, all of them were stomping toward Kil'jaeden, noxious green steam flowing off them like body heat. They were followed by a blue wave of naga and from the northernmost part of Tempest Keep, a group of purple, ghostly drakes with riders in black swept down toward the red giant.
And from The Eye itself, a small cluster of figures leaped into the air to soar toward Kil'jaeden on dark wings. They were dark shadows, clutching half-moon blades in each hand and burning with a acid-green fire which made them look like a small, poisonous meteor shower descending on the demon lord.
Still unable to believe it, Maurus saw the fel reavers stomp through the demons surrounding Kil'jaeden, killing scores with deliberately sweeping steps, carving a path that the naga followed. Any doubt about the fel reavers' intentions were dispelled when they all lifted fists like tree trunks and charged.
Maurus gaped as Kil'jaeden threw himself into the battle. He made a violent, ripping motion at one of the fel reavers, and the fel fire in it was simply extinguished, the green steam flowing into his outstretched hand. As he did, he dodged the others' attacks, his motions almost disdainful and Maurus was suddenly reminded of Ven'Zarul's movements, though the dreadlord seemed sluggish and unskilled in comparison. That it was something so massive that put Ven'Zarul to shame was only more astonishing and the terror Maurus had managed to fight down began to build again.
The nether drakes and the burning demons from the Eye reached Kil'jaeden next and the battle became more even as the flyers began to harry him, making it impossible for him to treat the fel reavers with the same disdain. Green fire and dark, grasping shadows leaped from Kil'jaeden's hands and eyes, but the flyers dodged nimbly, just barely avoiding the lethal bursts of magic, while retaliating with flashes of dark magic and seemingly suicidal melee attacks.
Finally, the naga reached Kil'jaeden, unleashing a storm of icy blue magic, lightning and frost flashing up from the valley.
It was mesmerizing, the swirl of flyers, the bursts of magic and the heavy, enormous movements of the red and black giants. Not so mesmerizing that Maurus didn't notice the arrival of the others though. Over a hundred pairs of running feet weren't exactly quiet after all.
Maurus looked at his newly arrived soldiers as they gathered around him, assuming a loose version of their usual battle formation. The familiar people gathering around him eased a bereft nervousness he hadn't even realized he had felt and he noted with satisfaction that none of them seemed as winded as he had feared.
Arianna reached his side and touched his shoulder. None of her previous frustration was visible in her features and instead, obvious fear and disbelief twisted her face into an expression that stung in Maurus' chest.
The expressions around him were for the most part similar, ranging from stark terror to grim determination and the entire group felt tense, more so than ever before. Wiven was one of the ones who looked outright terrified. Thalmir and the other elves and most of the orcs Maurus could see showed some fear, but their eyes also blazed with hate. Zrahi, Zilja and most of the other trolls didn't look so hateful, but fear and determination still struggled in their expressions.
Mathias' expression was odd. There was that grim determination, but there was a thoughtful tilt to his head as well.
Calen was quite different from everyone else. He looked calm, tranquil even. There was a determined sense to his stance, but his face, what Maurus could see of it, was open and composed, his eyes serene as he looked unflinchingly at Kil'jaeden.
"You know who-" Arianna began.
"Kil'jaeden," Maurus interrupted her, beginning to move again. She and several others flinched at the word while others hissed or growled or spat in disgust.
Mathias nodded once, his thoughtfulness vanishing. "He's the one," he said, voice a deadly, quiet thing. He didn't elaborate, but Maurus didn't need him to in order to understand. Barring the Dark Titan himself, Kil'jaeden was ultimately the source of pain that Mathias had ever shared with Maurus, from orcs through undeath to the loss of Garm.
Following the same kind of logic, Maurus got a hunch about Calen as well. Kil'jaeden was the next best thing to the incarnation of darkness that he as a paladin was sworn to fight.
"Priorities," he rumbled, catching Mathias's and Calen's eyes in turn. "We have our hands full with the dreadlord already. After that, we'll see."
Calen accepted the order with serenity, giving an even nod before making his way to the front of the group. Mathias stared for a moment before he also nodded and pushed his way to the front as well, constantly glancing toward the ridges.
"After?" Arianna asked. Her voice was flat but it hid an edge of disbelief. "Look at him."
"It'll be over long before we get to chip in," Maurus answered quietly, glancing at the battle again. The demons and fel orcs had closed in around the naga, though the serpentine creatures held their ground much more ably than Maurus had expected, having formed a circle from where their casters continued to harry Kil'jaeden. Another fel reaver had fallen, but that only seemed to have made them more effective, as they no longer got in the way of each other when they attacked and the ghostly nether drakes continued to frustrate the massive demon, despite the waves and tendrils of magic that pulsed from him.
But Kil'jaeden was still pushing his attackers back, his progress toward Tempest Keep slowed rather than stopped. The crowd of flyers around him had already shrunk by a third and now the demon flyers were also descending on the drakes and what must be demon hunters and Maurus knew the demons' superior numbers would be deadly for those that relied on speed and grace for survival.
"Find our demon," Maurus said, lifting Arianna from the ground in a motion that had become so natural with practice that neither he nor Arianna missed a moment's motion. Arianna murmured the spell even as he lifted her and held out a hand in the direction of the ridges almost before he had settled her against his chest.
"Can't hide from us," Maurus growled. "So what will you try?"
They kept a comfortable distance to the nearest ridge, eyeing the terrain as they made their way down the slope. The battlefield began to get worryingly close, the manaforge fully visible now and the closest wing of the Keep would soon be above them.
And Kil'jaeden was getting closer and closer.
"We're ahead," Arianna finally said, as they were passing a ridge that vanished into the ground just before a wide field of boulders about Maurus' height. Maurus let Arianna down and held up a hand and gave a shout. His soldiers came to a stop around him, all eyes turning to the thirteen succubi circling over the uneven ground to the east.
"Slova?" he called as Arianna walked toward the back of the formation. Slova passed her, his scarred lips moving as he murmured, a piece of inscribed bone in his hand.
"Close," Slova grumbled as he reached Maurus.
"Quite close," Arianna called from the other end of the formation and Maurus called for the formation to turn.
Even as they did, the succubi suddenly dove toward them and from between the ridges a short distance away, more demons appeared. Most of them were the lithe forms of succubi but more worryingly, ten blue-skinned fiends rose from the ground with more speed than should be possible, leaping more than flying toward the Torn Wing.
"Cripple them," Maurus roared, pointing his axe at the fiends. When he saw fel hounds come bounding out from behind the boulders and rocks he added: "Forward! Close those maws!"
The barrage of magic that soared toward the flying demons suddenly dropped, as if gravity had begun affecting them more heavily and the fire and lightning came apart into motes of magic that the charging fel hounds sucked into gaping maws. Unharmed by the casters, the fiends came down just behind the front rank, throwing the ranks into disarray in a flurry of steel and flame. Maurus growled in frustration though he felt a hint of pride that his warriors managed to reform much of the line before the fel hounds reached them.
The casters didn't hesitate either. Beside Maurus, Arianna and Wiven sent streams of shadow and flame toward the demons, their combined assault bringing a fiend down in seconds, its skin blackened and its blood steaming out from gaping sores. Drunnya and many of the shamans threw themselves against the other demons, while others sent lances of lightning at the succubi harrying them from the air.
Still, despite their quick recovery, the hounds and the flyers had their attention and that was when fel guards and fel orcs appeared from the ridges. Maurus had the sudden thought that there seemed to be more than before and the absence of Ven'Zarul made him fear that another wave was hiding behind the rocks.
He had no time to consider it more deeply though, because there was a shout of Eredun and then he had to defend himself and Arianna against a several diving succubi. He felt claws clang off his shoulderplate and caught a whip around his axe, pulling the succubi down to smash his knee into its belly, but the moment of inattention cost him.
A fel guard on the left flank suddenly gestured and Maurus glanced at in in horror as a familiar wail sounded and Dogar, Sika and several others fell to the ground in unconscious, defenseless heaps, leaving a hole where the tauren and orcs had held the line. Even as the warriors collapsed, he saw the fel guard's form shift and grow. It gained muscle and height, its armor shifted, flowing into more full armor but leaving a one-horned head bare and a single wing sprouted suddenly from its back. The entire change happened as Ven'Zarul reached the downed line of warriors and with legs twice as thick as a moment before, he launched himself into a great leap. He made a complicated gesture as he flew, unleashing magic with harsh words of power and sending a swarm of buzzing, stinging insects down into the warriors below him.
A shower of lightning and fire lashed up toward Ven'Zarul, but the casters had not been prepared for the sudden attack, so what seemed an almost suicidal move became one that was merely very risky. Red and black burns bloomed on Ven'Zarul's exposed skin and his remaining wing was torn in several places, but the damage was not apparent in his movements as he landed in the midst of the casters, to Maurus' left.
The regular formation, having a ring around the casters, suddenly worked against them. Those closest to Ven'Zarul tried to back away, but there was little room and the dreadlord was too quick. Taking full advantage of his speed and reach, he punched his claws through the chests of Teran and his priest sister while his ragged wing darted out, caving in the helmet and skull of a troll shaman.
"Hold the line," Maurus roared toward Mathias and Calen, heart sinking as several of the sleeping warriors were cut down by the charging fel guards.
His dismay and rage only grew as Ven'Zarul's left claw sent Ditha staggering back, clutching her belly and a kick of his hooves made an undead priest crumble.
There was one advantage though. Warriors were dotted through the casters, but more importantly, a large number of the casters were heavier casters, shamans and druids. Shayla, several other shamans and two massive, horned bears were already forming a ring around the dreadlord and the rest of the shamans were falling into defensive stances as well.
Maurus felt a small spark of pride in his soldiers, but it was a minor thing compared to his rage and pain. "Crippled piece of wolf scat," he roared. "Come and face me!"
Ven'Zarul's expression darkened, but his movements remained controlled, though starkly different from the last battle. He lunged forward once again moving through a hail of attacks, many of which hit, but he didn't even flinch. His focus was entirely on the bear in front of him as he let his wing catch the bear's blow. The bone audibly snapped, but Ven'Zarul barely flinched, whirling around the bear's thick limb and slamming his claws into the bear's eyes.
"Hamstring him," Maurus shouted, as the bear collapsed and the bone in Ven'Zarul's wing righted itself again. "Blood!" he added to the shamans as he finally reached the ring and pushed himself into the combat.
The orders got a reaction so immediate that Maurus was uncertain if he had had any influence on it, but he cared not one bit. The next barrage of magic that swept toward Ven'Zarul had a decidedly different quality than the earlier wave of flame and lightning, though it was no less radiant in color. Sensing the change, Ven'Zarul paused his assault to dodge and move his hands in quick warding gestures, though he couldn't stop it all. Several subtle orbs of magic swept past his guard while a tendril of withered vine climbed up his leg.
He snarled, ripping his leg from the weak root, sweeping his gaze around. It locked on Maurus and as Maurus lashed out with his axe, his attack falling in unison with several others, Ven'Zarul leaped again.
Maurus' throat constricted as Ven'Zarul passed over him, ignoring the axe that cut into his leg. He whirled just in time to see Ven'Zarul lash out around him again, tearing through several of the vulnerable casters. Faye and two trolls, priest and mage, fell, skull caved in or guts torn open and Ven'Zarul simply stomped over their corpses, tearing into more of the casters between himself and the front line.
Rage flared up in Maurus and not just his own. He felt boiling strength rise in his body, his muscles swelling with strength. The blood on Ven'Zarul's claws and body seemed to grow darker and despite the stink of the battlefield, he could faintly smell it. Letting the bloodlust fill him, he stepped forward, his axe light in his hand as he roared at Ven'Zarul.
The shamans around him roared in answer, the battle cry an ululating challenge and in unison, they attacked Ven'Zarul, who whirled to defend himself.
Despite their number, they struggled. Maurus had to stop his third sweeping blow to block Ven'Zarul's claws, which made visible scratches on the steel of his axe and he felt flash of fire when a half-dodged blow cut through mail and flesh beneath his arm. Only a quick elbow to the shaman beside him saved the orc from decapitation and earned him a jarring strike to the shoulder and despite their coordinated attack, Ven'Zarul drew blood again, snapping Drunnya's arm with his wing and kicking a troll shaman with bone-crushing force, getting even closer to where Calen, Mathias and the rest were beginning to firm the front-line. And the superficial wounds he incurred shrunk again, making Maurus' stomach clench with fear and his heart burn with rage.
Tendrils of shadow flowed up over Ven'Zarul's head, the visible impact of a warlock spell and Ven'Zarul sneered. He lashed out, but Maurus dodged, finding that the claws were coming a fraction slower than before. That was confirmed when two bolts of ice impacted Ven'Zarul's breastplate, covering the black metal with a sheen of almost black ice.
Maurus pressed in, sensing his chance and the shamans around him followed. Ven'Zarul backed away, grimacing as the light of spells lit him from behind, but his hands moved quickly again, lips parting to speak words of power.
Maurus flinched, his eyes squeezing almost shut as a solid wall of biting, buzzing insects flowed out toward him. There were sounds of revulsion and pain around him as he felt the disgusting creatures worm their way between the chinks in his armor, but he pressed forward after only a moment's hesitation, ignoring the stings and bites.
The moment was an eternity in that battle. Ven'Zarul had moved, making more progress than seemed possible in the tight press of bodies, leaving groaning and screaming Horde in his bloody wake, the buzzing all around them showing that the locust swarm had not just been aimed at Maurus. The casters had been pressed up against the three-thick line of melee fighters at the front line and Maurus felt his heart leap into his throat as Ven'Zarul threw away the disintegrating corpse of Ash. Even from behind, he could see the threads of magical corrosion in Ven'Zarul's visible flesh and the burns from devouring, green-tinged flame, but it didn't stop the dreadlord and Maurus screamed wordlessly as claws swept out in twin deadly arcs.
Ash had protected Wiven and Arianna from the locusts, consuming the magical creatures, but also marking them as a target. Wiven leaped at the last minute, but he was still thrown to the ground, face contorted in agony, blood splattering over the warriors. Arianna managed to almost dodge the blow, throwing herself back so the razor-sharp claws only grazed her forehead, shearing hair and just barely opening the skin. Yet, even as Maurus threw himself forward, he could see her overbalancing, and Ven'Zarul's other hand came back around, catching her in the side, cutting deep into hip and belly and sending her whirling to land on the ground in a sickening heap.
Ven'Zarul continued forward, raising his hoof for a stomp, but he suddenly hesitated as Arianna's arm rose, throwing a handful of darkness into his face and his form visible tensed with pain, his hoof coming down half a foot from where Arianna slumped again.
Chest feeling suddenly hollow, Maurus roared again, but he felt like he was moving through molasses. Ven'Zarul's pained fit lasted only for a moment, not long enough that Maurus' seemingly ponderous charge could reach him and his claws spread from the pained fist they had been squeezed into. He rose from his crouch before he could touch Arianna and Wiven again though, forced to Maurus' left by a flurry of lightning and the sudden attacks of Mathias, Crava and several others.
Maurus finally reached Ven'Zarul, roaring as he swung his axe at his remaining wing. Lashing out like an arm, the wing deflected the blow, whipping back to smack against Maurus' helm and send him stumbling back.
Snorting blood from his nose, he leaped back into the fight, ducking sweeping claws and swinging low, but the blow bounced off Ven'Zarul's greave and he had to duck to avoid the return blow.
A moment later, Maurus was suddenly on the defensive as Ven'Zarul's eyes locked on his and a flurry of blows rained down over him. He managed to parry and block the blows with his axe and his armor, but pain still bloomed in his' shoulders and arms. Behind Ven'Zarul, Mathias saw his chance and rushed forward.
A flicker of cruel amusement appeared in Ven'Zarul's eyes and the corners of his mouth quirked up, an expression Maurus had seen a few times already during the battle. His heart leaped into his throat, his eyes widening and he opened his mouth, knowing he was too late. Ven'Zarul whirled and sunk his claws into Mathias' side, beneath his up-raised sword arm. He continued the movement, lifting Mathias from the ground and flinging him into a troll nearby and the two landed in a heap beside Arianna and Wiven, dark blood and torn metal pattering to the ground around them.
Maurus felt like it was his that guts had been torn out. His mouth snapped shut and his teeth ground against each other as he said a prayer in his mind, reaching for that elusive power that he could faintly sense in the storm.
Ven'Zarul's arm snapped back around, smashing the back of his hand into Maurus' helmet and he felt the metal deform and his teeth rattle. There was an instant, painful jolt in his neck and the power of the blow sent him stumbling to the ground, the spirits of the storm seeming to withdraw from him.
He was on the ground, his head swimming, his vision out of focus. There was a dark figure standing over him, half-blocked by a golden-haloed warrior, but for some reason, his eyes focused on what he saw behind them, a glowing, floating, four-part fortress and below it, a red giant, tossing aside a broken, metal goliath.
"Ah, now I see you, Betrayer," a voice boomed mockingly. "Perhaps you think this stalling will grant you the power you need, but you are wrong. The elven allies you rely on have betrayed you months hence and what other servants you have are not long for this world." The voice turned darker in its mocking and added: "Yes. You were betrayed."
Another figure leaped from what Maurus remembered was the Eye. Like the previous half dozen, it was darkness wreathed in flame, with massive bat wings that cut through the air and twin blades clutched in its hands. But it was far larger, allowing Maurus to make out the hooves it had instead of feet and the thick ram's horns curling up from its forehead.
Illidan, Lord of Outland, was hurtling toward his former master, Kil'jaeden, like a fiery arrow of vengeance.
The golden halo winked out and the gold-armored form was suddenly flung aside by a quick swing of Ven'Zarul's claws.
"You have finally lost your wits. But it is just as well you face the inevitable," Kil'jaeden boomed, voice amused. He raised a hand. "You cannot resist the Legion."
A tendril of black lighting lanced out, striking Illidan and sending him flying back. The fire instantly winked out and the glowing blades fell like dying stars, while Illidan soared through the air, the black lighting following his convulsing form. He vanished from sight as Maurus finally gained his hooves again, though he couldn't have landed that far from them, down the slope and Kil'jaeden followed, his massive form seeming to bear down on them.
"My mercy is at an end," Kil'jaeden said slowly. "As is your miserable life and that of every mortal in this valley."
Maurus felt a surge of despair, facing Ven'Zarul, who seemed a small twin of Kil'jaeden's confident form, soaked in blood and seemingly impervious to the enemies around him. Still, filled with rage, Maurus threw himself forward, growling in defiance and catching Ven'Zarul's gaze.
Another voice suddenly boomed out over the battlefield. It was deep and old and tired, a voice turned raw by time and pain and hate. "Before the Legion, I had a different name. The name my brother still bears. I now reclaim that name. You are at the heart of the storm, Deceiver. Feel my rage."
The ground shuddered, feeling like a wave passed beneath Maurus' hooves. The air felt the same way, the erratic winds suddenly flowing down the slope, as if something gargantuan was taking a deep breath. The beam from manaforge to Tempest Keep grew blinding and the corona around the Keep suddenly flared. Uncountable arcs of lightning leaped between the different parts of Tempest Keep, flashing and writhing, turning the entire Keep into a tiny sun. The ground heaved and tilted, and Maurus had to struggle just to avoid crushing the two trolls beside him as he was flung by the sudden tremor. And then, the world went white and a sound like the world cracking open boomed out over the valley.
Maurus cringed, his eyes burning and blind for a moment, his ears ringing painfully, the left one in particular feeling oddly hollow and wet. Despite the ringing, Maurus still heard the unearthly roar of disbelief and pain and enough of his vision returned just in time for him to gape as he watched the world change. Everyone, on the mountains, in the valley and in the sky, froze as the Kil'jaeden stood transfixed, pierced through the heart by a lance of lightning thicker than the trees in Ashenvale. His hands twitched uselessly and his roar deepened with agony as glowing cracks spread from the wound in his chest, and then his body came apart in an explosion that sent an enormous wall of flame rolling out into the valley.
"No!" For the first time Maurus had ever heard, there was neither hate nor malice in Ven'Zarul's voice. Instead there was just utter shock and a clear note of horror.
Maurus felt much the same, because the fire from Kil'jaeden's death spread with the speed of a storm, consuming everything in its path. He managed, however, to keep his wits and Ven'Zarul's exclamation made his focus snap back to his own battle. He hurled himself toward Ven'Zarul, who was still half-turned toward where his master had been standing.
Ven'Zarul whirled, but he still took a deep cut to in his inner thigh. His face was more feral than anything Maurus had ever seen and with acidic vehemence he spat a word, making fire roll out toward Maurus.
He felt and smelled the burning fur beneath his armor, but Arianna's enchantments took the edge off and he hurried through the flame, the pained screams around him stoking his rage.
Ven'Zarul took an unsteady step back, his badly bleeding thigh clearly struggling to hold his weight.
"Burn him!" Maurus roared. Spotting Slova, he added: "Frenzy."
Maurus charged without waiting for confirmation, but he felt the black hate flow into him, though it welled up just as much from inside him. He could taste blood in his mouth, feel his muscles straining painfully, but he didn't care, only bothering to keep his wits in order to inflict as much pain on Ven'Zarul as possible.
If the others around him hadn't attacked in unison as well, Ven'Zarul would probably have ripped him apart. He attacked recklessly, swinging his axe in sweeping strikes that would have overbalanced him had he not been bursting with strength. Distantly, he noted that the frontline had taken advantage of the distraction of Kil'jaeden's death and that they were pushing the demons back, truly isolating Ven'Zarul, but he didn't care much. His eyes were on Ven'Zarul and three weakly moving bodies behind him. He didn't quite know why he was trying to push Ven'Zarul toward them, but he did and with Crava and Rilli at his sides, he had Ven'Zarul on the back-hoof.
At least he thought he did. Suddenly, a low sweeping blow came up toward Maurus' throat. He could see it coming and he desperately tried to twist in the eternal moment, but knew it was futile.
Then, Arianna's voice rang out and blazing bonds wrapped around Ven'Zarul's arm and the claws halted inches from Maurus' throat. Somewhere at the back of his mind, he recognized the greenish-white chains, but his only overt response was to finish his evasion before bringing his axe down on Ven'Zarul's leg again.
Ven'Zarul fell to one knee as the bonds evaporated and Maurus leaped back to avoid his claws, cursing his inability to finish the dreadlord. He felt the cold fingers of despair, as the pain in his limbs rapidly grew, telling him that the frenzy was ebbing and that he would be left almost crippled.
A burst of glee hit him like sun bursting out from a cloud when he suddenly noticed movement at Ven'Zarul's hooves. Mathias rolled over onto his belly and leaped at Ven'Zarul, uncaring of the gaping wound in his side. He landed on Ven'Zarul's back and hauled himself up tohis shoulders in spite of the dreadlord's furious attempt to shake him off. He plunged the bony fingers of his right hand down into Ven'Zarul's shoulder and his face appeared over Ven'Zarul's other shoulder, eyes blazing with hate and lips parted in a feral snarl before he bit down. Holding on with teeth and claw, his bone-hilted dagger rose and fell with manic fury, frantically stabbing and searching for flesh as Ven'Zarul shook himself in fury.
"Casters!" Maurus roared, "Burn him!"
Despite his order, Maurus resumed his attack, feeling the air grow heavy and electric as the casters obeyed and unleashed an onslaught of magic on Ven'Zarul. Distracted and robbed of his mobility by Mathias and the leg-wound, Ven'Zarul almost vanished behind the fingers of lightning, the bursts of flame and shadow and the mist and steam from the ice bolts.
Breaking through the cloud, Maurus saw Ven'Zarul shake Mathias off, his face a mask of rage and pain. Blood covered much of his throat and shoulders and was still flowing from the wounds Mathias had inflicted. Moreover, every visible bit of skin was blackened by burns, frost-bite or rotting corruption and his armor was beginning to crack and warp.
He was still moving though and Maurus, Rilli and Crava hurried forward, only their attacks stopping the dreadlord from stomping his hoof down through Mathias' breastplate. And even so wounded, taking another, smaller flurry of lightning to his chest, his attacks were fast and deadly, breaking Rilli's leg and only missing Crava's head because of Maurus putting his axe through his arm. A whip-crack motion of his wing downed Crava anyway and a word and a gesture sent an unearthly wailing mist of sleep rolling over Maurus.
Maurus was in too much pain to feel more than the slightest shade of sluggishness, but the chanting behind him stopped and Ven'Zarul attacked Maurus in earnest.
He ducked and blocked, feeling Ven'Zarul's blows carve shreds of metal off his armor, send rings flying from his mail and bruise and rend his flesh, but bleeding and hobbled, the dreadlord was finally slow enough that Maurus could keep up. Despite the exhaustion in his body, he was finally on something like equal footing with the dreadlord.
That was fortunate. Maurus had little attention to spare, but he did notice that everywhere around him, his soldiers were holding the line against Ven'Zarul's demons, fighting with defiant fury while the best of his healers were sitting clustered around the wounded, lit as if by green and golden campfires. Every survivor not in immediate need of healing was adding what they could to the battle, throwing what magic or random projectiles they could at the enemy, despite broken bones and weeping wounds.
Maurus caught a claw on the haft of his axe, pushing back and shifting the weight off him. He barely dodged the follow-up blow, but then Ven'Zarul flinched. Mathias slumped down on the left of Ven'Zarul, leaving his sword stuck to the hilt in his knee and Maurus was able to dodge the next attack so thoroughly that he reversed his swing in time to lop off three of Ven'Zarul's fingers.
In return, Ven'Zarul threw his other hand up toward Maurus, but instead of the claws, Maurus was faced with fel fire.
He closed his eyes and jerked back, swinging his axe wildly as he felt his fur burning and his skin char. He was lucky he did, because he also felt Ven'Zarul's claws raking at his breastplate, but the wounds were finally taking their toll and when Maurus opened his eyes, Ven'Zarul almost overbalanced.
Maurus was not able to reverse his swing quickly enough. His strength was failing too, the only thing keeping him standing being rage and sheer, stubborn will and the knowledge that the casters were all too close to Ven'Zarul still. But Ven'Zarul didn't recover. His leg buckled and as he fell to one knee, Arianna's voice rang to Maurus' right, like music despite the Eredun being spoken with raw pain.
A noose of green-white fire formed around Ven'Zarul's throat, forcing him down so he had to catch himself on his bloody hands to avoid falling.
Feeling triumph war with exhaustion and pain, Maurus stepped up beside the visibly struggling Ven'Zarul, not daring to look at the source of the demonic binding despite his aching need, and raised his axe.
Despite the burning noose, Ven'Zarul managed to turn one eye toward Maurus. His body was a ruin, bleeding and burned by half a dozen kinds of magic, but no pain was visible on his face. There was only a deep, dark, terrible hatred: "This is not the end. Your fate will be a curse. Your world will burn, your bodies broken and your souls will be the playthings of the felhounds."
"Your threats are as empty as your future," Maurus growled, but it was a struggle to ignore Ven'Zarul's eyes, filled with a bottomless, malicious certainty.
The noose vanished suddenly and for a moment, shock froze Maurus. Ven'Zarul's body slumped, his muscles no longer straining, but before either of them could recover, a purple beam struck Ven'Zarul's chest and he let out a pained gasp. Both he and Maurus followed the beam, to where Arianna was. Her face was a mess of blood, her right eye swollen shut. One hand was awkwardly holding her up, pressed against her blood-drenched side, but her other arm was outstretched and firm, her hand wreathed in the purple energy.
"No!" Ven'Zarul gasped, digging his claws into the dirt, his entire body coiling with frantic strength.
This time, Maurus was quicker. His axe fell with all his strength and fury and the head cleaved through burned and withered flesh. Ven'Zarul's desperate leap became a stumble, the corpse slackening as it slid across the purple dirt, blackening it with pulses of dark ichor. The head rolled over the falling corpse, landing behind it, just beside Maurus, its expression of pure desperation slackening almost immediately.
The purple beam winked out and in Arianna's hand, a shard of pure black formed, pulsing with dark energy. Keeping a white-knuckled grip on the crystal, Arianna slumped again, face contorted in agony.
Suddenly without an opponent, Maurus took stock. He was standing in a wide circle of bloody ruin, Ven'Zarul the only enemy dead in a ring of the Torn Wing's dead and wounded. Maurus didn't dare think how many of the broken bones were caused by heavy hooves rather than enemy claws.
They were surrounded by the still fighting Torn Wing, a little under a hundred warriors, casters and shamans, composed almost equally of orcs, elves and trolls. The fight was still bitter and merciless, neither side looking close to caving, but the enemy seemed to lose quite a few in a few moments and Maurus realized with a start that Ven'Zarul's blood magic had made them overconfident.
Glancing back to Arianna, Maurus quickly spotted Wiven and Mathias close by and Calen a little further away, slowly dragging himself toward Wiven, his armor more red than gold now. Seeing the carnage, and his love and friends terribly wounded, his stomach felt like a yawning, churning chasm and he acutely felt his wounds and torn muscles. He wanted to rush to Arianna's side or to collapse beside Ven'Zarul's corpse, but instead, he bent and gripped Ven'Zarul's head by its remaining horn.
"Hunters of the Torn Wing! We have our quarry! The dreadlord is dead," he roared, rising to his full height and holding the head aloft and. There was a moment where just the clamor of battle reigned and then, the eyes of the demons all turned to him, eyes wide with despair, rage and fear.
The Torn Wing let out a roar, a primal and savage thing that rolled down the mountain and tipped the balance. The demons and fel orcs broke, fleeing down the slope in complete disorder.
"Hold," Maurus roared, as he saw the front line start forward. "Hold, or I'll flay you. Healers, get to work! Everyone else, bandages, potions, anything."
Seeming to wake from a daze, his soldiers shook themselves and it took a few moments of repeated shouts from Maurus and the other officers before everyone followed his orders.
Only then, when he saw the formation fall apart into hurried activity, did Maurus allow himself to slump and hurry back to Arianna and the others.
Everything hurt and his muscles would barely obey, but he forced himself forward, dropping his axe and fumbling for his health stone as melodious chanting joined the choir of pain in the air.
He fell to his knees beside Arianna, vision blurring, and it took everything he had not to snarl at Calen to turn the golden glow on her instead of on the mangled Wiven. Arianna was on her back, eyes closed and breathing shallow, her skin pale. She was still clutching the dark crystal with her right hand while her other strained to hold the remains of her robe tight around her bloody side, but as he inspected her, he realized that her wound had been closed with the tell-tale ugly scars that the health stones caused.
He pulled close the tattered robe with one hand, while his other padded around her waist, seeking the feeling of glass or stone.
"You're the long-lived one," he croaked, his heart pounding, his body's pain a distant second to the torn feeling in his chest as he found no potions or health stones. "Don't you dare die now we've come this far!"
His throat felt tight. Arianna's face was so, so pale and her robe was black with blood. The health stone was a crude method of healing and even if it had sealed the wound, the blood loss or internal damage could still be too much.
"Calen," he croaked.
"I think she'll make it till we have hands to spare," Calen answered, words clipped and quick before he resumed his healing chant.
Maurus had to grit his teeth to avoid snapping at him, his mind conjuring dark suspicions about the paladin purposefully choosing the mage over the warlock, but Maurus fought them down. It was surprisingly easy, as he simply didn't have the energy.
A pair of boots appeared in the corner of his eyes.
"Boss."
"You have your orders," Maurus said, not looking up, silently begging Arianna to open her eyes.
"But, Boss-"
Maurus felt something in his chest unfurl into a roaring dragon and his head snapped up. His mouth opened in order to roar his denial at Zilja but at the last moment, shock and a shred of self-control strangled the impulse.
The Netherstorm was still. There was no lightning and the eternal, purple cloud cover had ceased roiling and become a calm sea of clouds instead, like just before the rains in the Barrens.
Maurus' gaze dropped to Tempest Keep, which looked like it had been the target of hundreds of siege weapons. The crystals had shattered and the pristine, marble-like walls had cracked and blackened, crumbling to rubble in places. All four wings were tilting like trees about to fall and slowly sinking toward the blackened ground where Kil'jaeden had stood, emitting thick, strange smoke and flickering with wild lightning. The manaforge was a ruin, blown apart from within.
And in the valley, the battle had changed. Kil'jaeden's death had shaken the Legion forces badly, not to mention annihilated a large portion of those to the east and as Maurus watched, he realized that what remained of the naga, as well as the traitor blood elves, were also attacking the demons. The demons and fel orcs trapped between blood elves and Horde cavalry were being massacred, the demons to the north and west were withdrawing. Surviving Alliance and Horde, both previously imperiled on three fronts, had regained their balance and already, formations were beginning to pursue the retreating Legion forces.
Maurus blinked, dizzy from everything, and regained a small bit of his composure.
"Send runners up and down the slope. See what help you can get us. And post sentries."
"Dabu," Zilja answered, quickly retreating over the rumbling ground.
Now that he had looked away, Maurus dreaded turning back to Arianna, so instead, he glanced out over his wounded unit. Everybody was hard at work, dozens of little glows rising around him, but even with his abundance of healers, he doubted they could save all those who weren't too far gone. Glancing back toward Ven'Zarul, he felt a mix of revulsion, faint relief and worry when he spotted Mathias. His friend was hunched over the dreadlord's corpse, black flesh between his teeth, face bloody and eyes distant and Maurus immediately began to wonder whether Mathias could lose his mind and whether he should try to snap him out of it, but he couldn't make himself move.
Yet he couldn't make himself move away from Arianna. "Come on, love," he murmured. "What good are your noxious magics if they can't even take you through this?"
His eyes snapped to Arianna when he felt her move and enormous relief made his chest feel tight when he saw that her eyes had opened slightly. Still clutching the crystal in her right hand, she lifted her left toward him, her mouth twisted with effort and a low murmur spilled from her lips.
He gasped when acid-green tendrils bloomed between them and cold fingers slipped down his throat, spreading cold like he had jumped into an icy sea. His heart hammered as warmth and breath was sucked from his chest and he had to place a hand on the ground to keep from falling over from the sudden increase in his exhaustion. His other hand clenched of its own volition, ready to lash out, but he didn't move, simply staring down into Arianna's eyes.
The light faded after a handful of heartbeats and Maurus heaved in a desperate breath. His arm and legs trembled under his suddenly enormous weight and he dropped onto his rear beside her.
"Sorry."
Arianna's voice was a weak croak, but it was music to Maurus ears. Looking at her, he felt his heart soar, despite the effort he felt it was to breathe, because her breaths came much easier and there was more color in her face.
"Were you just waiting for your cue?" Maurus asked, his wry question belied by his relieved voice and the way he immediately reached out to clasp her hand.
"Are you alright?" she asked. For once, there was no pretense of aloofness, only honest concern.
Maurus had to fight a moment's dizziness before he could answer and the hesitation made Arianna's eyes widen with concern.
"Pretty sure I'll live," he said, squeezing her hand and pulling her into a hug. He couldn't feel her much through the armor and her slight weight actually hurt his abused muscles, but despite that and the carnage and the stink of battle, everything was right for a short moment as she sat, quietly breathing, in his arms.
He couldn't and wouldn't shut out the world for long though and as he looked over his head, he asked: "Are you well enough to make some more stones?"
He felt her shift in his arms and suppressed a wince. She sighed without heat and pushed herself up from the embrace. "Never a moment's rest with you, is there?" she asked.
Maurus groaned as he pushed himself to his feet as well, feeling like his entire body was cramping. "No rest for the wicked," he answered tiredly and as Arianna murmured, green motes appearing in her hand, he turned and staggered toward Mathias.
I am never saying anything about getting something done quickly. But on the other hand, this is almost double length.
I really want to hear your thoughts on this chapter, as it is practically the climax of the story. Did it work? Did I give too much attention to things beside Maurus and the others? Was it a satisfying battle with Ven'Zarul? Did I go too AU? I really want your opinion on this, because it is so big a thing.
There will be some clearing up in the next chapter if you're confused, though not everything will be spelled out. Because Maurus ain't privy to everything.
Cheers.