Chapter 6:
Angrathar
The name that is to strike fear into the hearts of the living – in common tongue better known as Wrathgate. It is one entrance to the fortress of the Scourge, shielding what little about the enemy from unwanted eyes and keeping the head and heart of their strength.
The events that only recently took place at the Wrathgate were the first step on a long path of smaller and greater defeats of the Lich King. Many souls were lost the day as both armies of the Horde and Alliance met under a clear sky, trying once more to open the black gate in the north of Dragonblight. My absence is underlined by unappreciated shame, but I highly doubt, it would have made a difference.
Two proud and likewise daft heroes of our time were killed on said day.
Yet more importantly this event should herald an upcoming time of change as all this was set into motion by the Royal Apothecary Society of the Forsaken under their grand apothecary Putress.
The Forsaken were long time eager to create a new plague that would devour the living as well as the mindless ones under the control of Arthas - the ultimate weapon the rid this world of life in the hands of the Banshee Queen. With her own plans of how to end this war, still even she, who is most cunning and careful, was not prepared for what was about to happen. Trusting someone even only shortly can become your greatest weakness in times like these.
Nevertheless this was to become the beginning of the downfall of the Arthas as the Lich King, weakening him severely. From this point onwards he would only be pushed back further and further to the frozen heart of Icecrown. A mission I devoted myself to.
In the early afternoon the battle commenced as the troops of the Alliance first charged at the gate. The Lich Kings answer for their knocking on his doorstep came immediately in form of a little horde of skeletons and ghouls rising out of the mellow earth in front of the gate.
Angrathar itself is shaped after the Helm of Domination, the helmet that was once crafted by demons to hold the spirit of Ner'zhul and to give him the powers he holds now as the Lich King.
The forces of the Alliance led into battle by Bolvar Fordragon already in the fray, struck down as many undead as they could. Their losses were only few, but the minions of the Scourge were count and relentless, a ghouls cares not for how many limbs they lose in a fight.
"Rise up sons of the Horde! Blood and Glory awaits us!" The voice of the young Dranosh Saurfang echoed down into the valley before of the gate. And as the sound of a horn was heard from the east with a raging battle cry the soldiers of the Kor'kron came charging down the hill on their wolves.
"Finally..." Bolvar muttered to himself, striking down another undead.
"LOK'THAR OGAR! For the HORDE!" The orcs yelled upon arriving on the bloodied battlefield.
Only the threat of the Lich King taking this world as a whole seemed enough to unite forces of the Alliance and Horde under the same banner, fighting for the same cause. The fights when the gap between both factions narrowed down into nonexistence were rare, but this most certainly was one of them - the sons and daughters of Alliance and Horde standing side by side, facing a mutual foe.
After the orcs had joined the slaughter no matter how many undead rose from their shallow grave they were slain within only few seconds und the ferocity of the newly arrived war machine. They swung their axes like savages until they grew dull from only hitting bones.
The numbers of the undead soldiers finally began to cease and as their corpses remained shattered on the ground victory was drawing closer. Only few ghouls were still standing when the Wrathgate suddenly opened.
Behind the gateway of spikes sliding apart only endless darkness was found, a chasm leading into the very heart of obscurity only surpassed by the silence inhabiting it. The leaders of Alliance and Horde hesitated and just as you might have thought to have gone deaf, the sound of footsteps rushing along the cold floor crafted from metal and bones emerged into the open, quickly approaching.
Within the blink of an eye, a group of roughly 30 or 40 ymirjar had spawn from Angrathar. Wildly shouting and eager to bring death they were armed with heavy axes and maces, bringing an end to many warriors. But it was only a matter of time before they were overwhelmed too. In a one on one situation they are supreme fighters, surpassed by only the most skillful. But in a battle like this they lack the co-ordination. Yet even in death the ymirjar prove to be dangerous. Often they are accompanied by a maiden of the val'kyr, which will not enter combat, but stay in a safe distance and resurrect the fallen ones as vargul, a wretched, honorless type of undead vrykul.
The blood of those fallen gave the ground a slight red tone as the fighting finally came to a pause.
Bolvar and the young Saurfang took a few steps towards the black Saronite walls.
"Arthas! The blood of your father, of your people demands justice! Come forth coward, and answer for your crimes!" Bolvar yelled at the entrance to the citadel.
Without further announcement the black gate looking like horrible, spiked teeth opened again, but this time only for a single person stepping out of it. A breeze blew through his long white hair, bringing an unnatural chill to the bones of the living.
Slowly the Lich King steps forth with Frostmourne in his right hand, ready to strike at whatever moment he pleases.
"You speak of justice...?" He asked as he drew closer, his armor making him look even more fearsome as you would ever imagine. ".. of cowardice?" Soldiers of both the Alliance and Horde were trembling with fear ready to protect themselves if they had to, but never would they strike first... They were petrified by fright. "I will show you the justice of the grave..." As he spoke these words innumerably many hands burst out of the earth to his sides. ".. and the true meaning of fear!"
Hundreds of freshly raised ghouls gathered around him, only waiting for his command to strike.
"ENOUGH TALK!" The young hot-headed Saurfang burst out. "LET IT BE FINISHED!" He shouted before charging directly at the Lich King, his axe high over his head, planning to indeed end it in this very moment.
Arthas on the other hand, did not plan to dodge the attack. With a single strike he destroyed the axe of Dranosh and cut through the body of the orc at the same time.
He killed him within seconds.
The orcs of the Kor'kron stood there terrified of the sight, seeing how their honored leader had been annihilated with just a single blow.
The dead eyes of Saurfang still open and staring at his soldiers, Frostmourne sucked his soul directly out of the body. Another victim falls to the blade, another feast for the voracious monster.
"You will pay for all the lives you've stolen! TRAITOR!" Bolvar spoke filled with rage, filled with the hatred of generations focusing against his enemy.
"All this stated... but there is nothing you can..." A giant, green explosion behind the legions of Alliance and Horde interrupted the scene, cutting Arthas words clean off. A cloud of gas taking up the area, it blocked the way to safety, the path for retreat. The few people that had been already caught by it fell to the ground screaming in sudden agony.
"What?" The Lich King demanded to know, showing openly that this was none of his work as laughter arose from high up on a cliff directly next to the black gate, overlooking the area.
"Did you think we had forgotten?" The frail body of a Forsaken became visible.
"Did you think we had forgiven?" He asked while the soldiers in the valley below already heard the sounds of the catapults rolling towards the edge.
"BEHOLD now the terrible vengeance of the Forsaken!" His mangled face was not visible under his mask, his robes though giving him away as a grand apothecary.
"Sylvanas...!" Arthas said to himself.
"Death to the Scourge! AND DEATH TO THE LIVING!" The apothecary Putress shouted out as the catapults launched their deadly ammunition into the masses below, no matter who they might hit. Explosions erupted from all over the battlefield, burying soldiers under showers of dirt and bones, followed by the toxic cloud to ensure their demise.
The gas proved highly corrosive and cauterized the skin and flesh right off the bones before it proceeded with dissolving even those. No one would be able to pass through it without getting harmed. Within seconds the ghouls of the Lich King fell to pieces inside the green clouds of acid. Even Arthas himself was forced down onto one knee, but he managed to flee into his citadel barely in time. No one remained to tell how much this poison would affect him in due time.
"This isn't over!" Were his last words as he retreated, already echoing through the dark halls beneath Icecrown.
Bolvar found himself next to the dead body of the young Saurfang, now completely surrounded by the gas. No way out and nowhere left to go, nothing left to do except for embracing death and hoping it would come quickly.
The maniacal laughter of Putress swept across the battlefield by then covered with green fog.
"Now, all can see..." He spoke before turning around to leave the area. "This is the hour of the Forsaken!"
No escape...
Soon afterwards the area was cleared from the corrosive green gas by flames of the red dragonflight, bringing not only purity but even faint traces of new life. But it was too late already. The armor of the young Saurfang was the only thing that could be returned to his father who wept upon the death of his proud son. Both the bodies of Dranosh Saurfang and Bolvar Fordragon had been collected by agents of the Scourge before either Alliance or Horde could seize them.
Yet this day was not only stage for the first larger fight against the Lich King and the betrayal of the Royal Apothecary Society. No, there was more to come. Only a few hours after the flames had cleared the battlefield Varimathras struck out, showing his true face in his own little scheme as he betrayed the Banshee Queen. Together with Putress and several members of the Apothecary Society they orchestrated a coup d'état and forcefully took over the control of Undercity.
Taken by surprise Sylvanas was badly injured and had to flee together with many of her people to Orgrimmar. Supported by Thrall and a group of soldiers of the Kor'kron the weakened Banshee Queen then attacked Undercity, which by the time had already been festering with lower demons the dreadlord must have called forth. The main intend of Sylvanas was undoubtedly to retake the city and return the Nathrezim's favor, although she was sure she wouldn't do it as slack as he did and kill him off properly.
He would get what he deserved for betraying Sylvanas Windrunner. Dealing with Putress would have to wait until the city was back in the hands of the Forsaken, but little did they know that the Alliance would already take care of that.
As they entered the ruins of Lordaeron, they were attacked by seemingly countless demons as well as abominations created in secret by the Apothecary Society. Varimathras had opened several portals to the twisted nether, calling for more and more reinforcements to the endless stream of minions.
As they drew nearer to the Royal Quarters' they engaged doomguards as well as smaller pit lords, the species also known as Annihilan. They are hulking creatures with a massive humanoid torso joined to a tremendous equine body with a flexible carapace. Monstrous tusks jut out from their fanged mouths and a long thick tail thunders behind their huge frames. A mane of fire runs down their backs between sinewy, leathery wings. Most of them carry a massive warblade as a weapon, not that they would need any.
But none of the obstacles Varimathras had to offer for the Banshee Queen and Thrall proved enough to stop them. They reached the throne room eventually.
The dreadlord managed to hold up a good fight for the warchief and his servants as he still tried to call for his allies from the nether, but as the fight took its time the powers and concentration of the demon faded. As he finally dropped to his knees whimpering for forgiveness yet again, he was killed by Sylvanas. Trusting a Nathrezim, even if it was only for a single second was a mistake she had made once now and would never make again.
In the meantime a group of soldiers of Stormwind, together with Varian Wrynn infiltrated the city through the sewers and started an attack on their own aiming for the Apothecarium. They wanted their revenge for the soldiers that died at the Wrathgate and perhaps they could even take out at least one the leaders of the Horde afterwards.
Putress by himself proved to be not much of an opponent for them. He might have been a mad scientist as such, but not a great combatant. He was beheaded before he was able to do any greater damage. Far worse and more damaging to the moral of the troupes was however what they found hidden inside the Apothecarium. In the furthest halls, tucked away deepest into the framework of the city the living discovered dozens of mutilated defiled human corpses which the Forsaken used to experiment on. Realizing that even though the Horde and the Alliance had upheld a truce over the years, the Forsaken were already planning on killing them all eventually, they decided to push for the Royal Quarters.
The chance to confront any of those responsible would have been greatest there. And as luck guided them, they confronted Thrall and Sylvanas next to the armor the slain dreadlord, the only thing he had left behind after his death.
Furious from the discovery they had made, Varian lunged blindly into combat with Thrall declaring that lasting peace would never be possible between Horde and Alliance.
Jaina Proudmoore was barely able to stop Varian and Thrall from killing each other by teleporting the leader of the Alliance and his soldiers back to the city of Stormwind at the last moment.
Old scars had been ripped open again as the Alliance anew declared open war against the Horde.
But before old hostilities would be determining the fate of Azeroth yet again, the Argent Crusade and the Ebon Blade gather the strongest and bravest heroes of both the Horde and the Alliance under their united banner as the Ashen Verdict, to attack the Lich King in his own dwelling, the Icecrown Citadel.
With success the united forces pushed onwards into many victories; Naxxramas, Zul'Drak, Dragonblight ...
But still the Lich King as an entity remains as powerful up until this day. With his strongest servants close by his side, eagerly he awaits the countless souls of overzealous warriors that want to challenge him. Eagerly he awaits the moment to harvest them.
Frostmourne hungers.