~* Author's Notes *~
I don't feel like tracking down my notes and/or looking back to see how many and of what kind of Scourge troops the Scout had reported to Salira several chapters back. From here out we assume those numbers/classes were current at the time but has since changed.
~*~ Chapter 56 ~*~
Nekov and the Commander were quite while the druid rolled her enchanted bandages. They took up the task of stripping the cloth, laid them in piles of small, medium and large. The Fostfire put down and then looted their attackers. The shadowy priestess lit each on fire with the magic of her own calling and cackled to see them flopping around trying to get away from her dark judgment. She also enjoyed beating them with her staff. It became apparent to the Druid that most of the Forsaken who belonged to the Dark Lady lead entirely different lives from what circumstances handed them as minions in undeath. This one had obviously wielded an axe, judging by the way she swung that staff.
The different lengths of bandages were sorted and three Angels volunteered to take them where they needed to go. Being small they would be able to run in and out of situations and deliver bandages quickly. Short bandages were sent to those who needed small healing work. Medium length bandages found their way to those who had moderate damage. The largest were reserved for those whose lives depended on the life-saving bits of cloth.
As the weapon and armor collection continued random objects found their way to the druid, who was unspokenly tasked with figuring out what to do with them. Though Kayas dearly loved exploring and looting she understood her place was balancing out the destruction being dealt around her. She sat on the wagon channeling the healing energies of the earth through the pad of one foot on the ground and into the bandages. She also directed small groups of looters.
A scroll appeared in her lap, tossed up by a Frostfire girl who quickly headed back to her tasks. After that a small bag appeared, empty except for some dried meat and water. How old the contents were didn't matter when Nekov took the items and threw them over the wall into the fire. Food found on undead would never be eaten by the living. The bag itself was decent sized, with ten compartments. It was also enchanted to shrink the contents to a minute and tiny size. The straps which would fasten it onto a belt were well rotted and to longer good. The druid put a handful of each bandage size into the bag and shrunk it down. Using a bit of binding cast off from ripping up the clothing she fastened it to her dark red and forest green belt. Glancing down reminded her that she wore a Scarlet Campaign tabard and of what the Dark Lady had said about fixing that soon enough.
The fighting continued. Twice more the guard was switched out, with the Frostfire going to fight and the RazorWing coming to guard as a way of resting. All of the crawling and flying Scourge were brought down and destroyed. A third of the Scourge soldiers were destroyed completely. This was only good news to some as almost half the defenders were wounded in some form or another. It had been going on half the night and they were all tiring. Only the Druids bandages were keeping their forces upright and going. Her healing magic was not strong, but it was as much a visual bandaged as it was a practical one. Seeing it put awe in the eyes of those who received the small curls of fabric and rewed their fighting vigor.
At some point during the battle an explosion rocked the entire compound, throwing everything and everyone into the mud, blood and guts on the ground. They lifted themselves to the sound of angry howling and enraged cries. Many dozens of voices filled the night with cries for revenge. The acid magic smell which had just started to dissipate came again with renewed strength. Something filled with arcane power had just exploded into a power-filed fire and all fel was breaking loose. The druid whined quietly trying to shake the feeling of so many kinds of magic clashing in the night and all in such a small space. If they made it out of here each and every one of them would need anti-magic treatments, similar to how engineers often required anti-radiation treatments.
"They come soon!" The white haired priestess was on her feet now, fully rested and able-bodied once more. She shouted down to the defenders and to the little druid's dismay was pointing not only at the shielded gate leading outside the compound but also to the adjacent section, where fighting could still be heard clashing with the sound of the fire and the sound of their own struggles.
The Dark Lady nodded, gathered up both the Frostfire and the Razorwing into one place, putting an end to the looting. What arms and weapons they had would have to do from now on; no fighters could be spared anymore. The tall elf strode quickly issuing orders to get disjointed fighting groups back in line and back in order. She dictated places to be and ran down quick strategy for dealing with enemies on both sides.
Before the Banshee Queen was done issuing orders however, a loud pop sounded and the entire shield shimmered harshly. The white priestess positioned herself at her post once more, ready to reactivate the shield as soon as it went down. There was not another to give their life to instantly constructing another shield so she would just have to concentrate on keeping this section safe.
"On the ready!" The Dark Lady faced the gate opening into the darkness as the shield came down. Instantly a mob of crazed Scourge rushed through, shrieking angry threats and flinging magic and weapons at anything that moved. Several defenders went down instantly. The golden field shimmered back into place just as the second group ran through. The necromancer, death knight, and the last wave of rancid troops stopped short of running into the shield, locked outside. The necromancer fumed.
The Commander and Nekov hauled the wagon over onto it's side to provide a bit of cover. They almost sat on her, providing a living shield between her and danger. She didn't bother telling them she knew better than to chase down those on horseback. Another lifetime ago it had been a mistake which cost her dearly, and her own father's body which shielded her from the oncoming danger. In that scenario, however, there were not walls keeping them in. This time it would not be so simple to escape.
The Dark Lady cursed, yelled a battle cry and rushed at the enemy. Behind her a crumbling stone indicated the gate between the compounds being lifted. The mechanism was on that side, as was the lock, so there was little they could do to prevent it. The Frostfire and RazorWing were in position already, ready to do the same dance with this set of Scourge as with the last.
All the children stepped back in surprise when flaming figures walked out of the flaming section of the compound and into the muddy battlefield. Surnamehere issued quick orders for his civilian-and-children troops to stay back. Slowly the thirteen flaming figures looked around, surveying their surroundings. Behind them more figures came. The children continued backing up. There were a lot more than they though possible.
An undead man in white and red robes came forward. He was empty handed and devoid of weapons. Behind him came a mixed group of purple robed spell-casters, red and white wearing warriors, what looked like more priests, and a mixture of people wearing various other identifying apparel. One of them was carrying a body of a young woman who looked half-frozen and dripping wet.
For a minute the druid though these priests were the remains of the Scarlet priesthood who had ingested the plague and were now risen as undead. Then she noticed that all of them had the same white glow in their eyes indicated they had been dead for a long time. It took months for fresh undead to get that glow, indicating their soul was now twisted to match their physical form.
Behind her Commander Hillburn stood up slowly, putting himself in the open. The purple-clad leader signaled his group to stop. The flaming apparitions also stopped, eyes on Hillburn. None of them moved as the Commander and the undead man drew close. A tension had filled the air at the back end of the battlefield and a full-out war was going on up front. Still, in the silence the group of undead all glared at the Commander who met their gaze head on.
"Lovely night out, Karloff." The thickness of the air whooshed past, carrying the smoke and scent of decay.
The undead man, Karloff, didn't answer for a long moment. Finally he said, "It's been a long time, Commander." Glancing around he said, "Love what you've done with the place." The roaring flames licked over the edge of the wall, pushing at rest of the undead group from behind. A few more stepped into the opening. "We're on her side now?" A stick thing finger pointed to the Dark Lady who was immersed in combat she and her fighters were quickly losing. More Scarlet and Forsaken bodies littered the ground, along with two of the shadow priests. None of the mounted Scourge had fallen. Arthas and/or the necromancer and/or the Death Knight had saved the best of their troops for last.
The Commander shook his head, face showing annoyance at his dismal situation, "Temporary. After the battle they're going to either leave or..." His words trailed off when he realized that there were just some civilians, children and three or four of his own fighters still left. After the battle the undead would far outnumber the living and the Scarlet fortress was gutted by fire besides. What recourse did any of them have?
Something else was going on, the druid decided. An unspoken series of signals being sent, received, interpreted, and sent again. The Commander and Karloff 's conversation was very bland on the surface but the druid understood by the way they hardly blinked while looking at each other that the real conversation was going on through an unspoken medium. "You never worked with them before. Why now?"
"The Archbishop turned against us, trained our priesthood to be necromancers and set them loose on everyone. Someone started this fire." His glare could peel skin from bones and the druid slunk lower behind the wagon, not wanting to see the look on anyone's face. "The banshee witch came striding in just in time to catch us an an awkward position and seeing how Arthas is outside and her troops are inside and my troops are decimated, what choice did I have when she called for neutrality in order to fight by our sides? Yes, they're fighting for us right now."
No, Kayas though, you're fighting for them.
Karloff nodded. "The Scourge are our enemy as well. Let us join our forces?"
The Commander took this information in, looked at the figures behind Karloff. "The fire doesn't burn you?" The line of undead went into the fire and disappeared in the smoke and waves of heat. The mud on the ground started drying in response to the sudden lack of moisture.
Karloff reached behind him, took a hand full of the fire in his palm and grabbed the Commander's forearm. Immediately the man yelped and jumped backward, swearing and fanning at the plate. "No," Karloff said, "the fire is magic. It only burns the guilty."
"Aye, as well it should." A heavy silence fell over the Commander as his shoulders wilted a small inch. "I can't say I wouldn't do it again-" A Scourge soldier made it past the Frostfire and was quickly chopped down by two of Karloff's undead followers. The children and followers each rushed back to their respective groups.
"Hush," Karloff said putting a hand on the Commander's shoulder, "be silent. I hated you for a long time. The mages still hate you. But you and are old friends, even if I am now what you hate and seek to destroy. In all honestly I would have done the same thing. I'm not angry at you anymore."
The Commander looked relieved, put his mail covered hand over Karloffs. Karloff ducked his head down for a second and then looked up smiling. He had died just before middle age, still fairly young for human lifetimes, and still had a hansom smile. His short black hair was spiked deliberately, very uncharacteristic of a Scarlet priest. Even a dead one. Taking his hand away from the Commander he said, "It's very easy to let the anger take you when you wake up dead and realize the thing you wanted to happen to you least of all things in the world is your new reality. But reality is open to interpretations, as we often discussed back in the good old days."
"Yes. You tried being a warrior, all full of logic, before the .. before the Light called you … home. I imagine it cannot be easy... if you can still feel... I mean to say- I'm going to shut up now."
Karloff chuckled, "Being undead changed my perceptions. However, I changed them back." Snapping his fingers the red clad man called forth a spark of the Holy Light.
Commander hillburn backed up clear to the wagon, stuttering, staring. "By the Light! How? The plague-"
"Is not stronger than my will." The spark grew until it was a flame in the man's hand, burning with a white hot intensity which made the already wide-eyed commander fall to one knee. The effect was broken when the undead man sucked in a breath and shook the flame out. "Of course, that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt like a son of an orc. I'll fight the Scourge now just as strongly as I did when alive. I want the Lich King destroyed. We all do."
The Commander nodded, glancing behind him towards the battle. The Dark Lady was up to her breastplate in undead bodies and two thirds of the defenders were dead or dying. The bandages had already run out. The Scourge were down three now, but were still not dropping as fast as the footed civilians and soldiers they fought. Their undead horses bit and kicked in time with their riders throwing curses and black spells. The Commander's eyes widened when he saw that two of his own had now risen as undead and fought alongside the Scourge.
The Scout, Warlock and Mr. Meows were still trying to bring down the second abomination. So far it's sheer size was proving to be it's biggest advantage.
"Looks like we're not winning this fight, unless your people can-"
Karloff was already walking past him into the battle. His people followed, some of them sparing glances for the Commander who betrayed them, but none of them prioritized their revenge on him over their hatred of the Scourge. The group sped up once everyone was inside the last section of compound. Steam which came off fire-hot corpses smelled slightly of the High Priest's contraptions and the little druid wondered once again where he was.
Upon seeing the massive group of undead coming her way the Dark Lady barked, "Michael?" The Frostfire and RazorWing followed the group, counting numbers and trying to get a feel for their new allies. They didn't trust the Scarlets, but the obvious Dalaran mages in the group were probably not going to give them as much trouble once the fighting was over. Assuming the defenders won the night, of course.
"From the underground, Ma'am," the short man answered, running to catch up to his Queen the same time Karloff got near her. "Apparently that fire is some kind of magic: it blew the locks somehow." The thirteen fiery figures stayed where they were by the gate and watched.
Several towers of fire came streaming out of the heaven by the call of a holy word and several of the Scourge around the undead Queen collapsed. Karloff winced to use the power of his craft but it did not deter him. "We're here to fight the Scourge. Thirty seven melee fighters, eight mages, five very pissed off distortion priests and myself, a holy priest still."
The elfin Queen was curious, "There were far more under there than that."
"Ah, yes," Karloff laughed, "you see – long story short – some of us were infected by your strands of plague and some of us by his. The ones who did not wake up free-willed were immediately destroyed."
"And this?" The Dark Lady indicated the man carrying the unconscious purple-clad woman.
"She'll be fine. Turned herself into a block of ice when we got locked in, to save herself becoming infected. The fire thawed it. Been about three years, if my tally is correct."
The Banshee Queen's eyebrows rose in surprise. Shaking her head she indicated the druid and said something about "to keep her bleeding heart occupied". The warrior took her over to where Nekov and Hillburn were standing. Glaring daggers into the Scarlet Commander he laid the groggy woman inside the cart and hurried back to his group.
A wicked gleam in his eyes and both hands lit up with holy light, Karloff sent another skeleton to it's maker. He grinned, pleased to pass out even a small portion of the pain it caused him to channel Holy Light through an undead body.
"Right," he said to his troops. Turning he rushed into battle with a cry of, "Lets light it up!"