Triple digits! something of a milestone I suppose, although I am pleased at the progress made in that time. please, R&R, and enjoy the chapter! ~F

Chapter 100

Justice and Vengeance

Varian cut down another skeleton, still irritated at the heavy coating of spores and fumes from the previous hulking creature that they had slain. They had discovered the source of the plague within the Black Citadel, and in slaying the massive fungus creature had ceased the flow of the toxins that created the deadly blight throughout the floating fortress.

They had one final section left, accessibly from the center area of the necropolis, and it seemed that the corps of Death Knights was gathered in the first few chambers. Luckily for them that they were united by the threat that the Scourge presented, as the expertise of the Death Knight among the Dark Horde was an added boon against the magic of these warriors of undeath they faced against.

The undead human took to the front lines, alongside Varian himself and the orcish High Overlord, Saurfang, his deadly blade countering both weapon and dark magic alike as it was sent at the frontline fighters of their united force.

The first chamber of the quarter held several forges, all manned by skeleton and overseen by Death Knights, likely where their deadly weapons were forged and prepared for use against the living. They had quickly shattered these forges, so that no other cursed weapon could possibly be created ever again.

The next, which opened to a high balcony, was filled with more Death Knights of all races, training with their weapons by sparring. They eagerly left this and turned on the encroaching living instead, and poised the greatest challenge thus far that they had found.

Shalamayne was starting to grow heavy in his hands after so many hours of nonstop fighting, but the King of Stormwind knew that the very survival of his people, and those of both the Horde and the Dark Horde, were at stake. If the undead won here, they would never be capable of removing them from the Plaguelands ever again.

A Horde shaman must have seen that Varian was growing weary, as the elemental caster chanting swiftly, before a rush of enchanted water rushed over Varian, refreshing his strength and mending several of the small wounds that might risk infection through the disease magic that the Death Knights wielded.

Varian nodded in thanks of the orc shaman, and returned his attention to fighting the Scourge force that prevented them from reaching the ramp that would take them further into the Citadel. These Death Knights were significantly more skilled than those in the previous chambers, and Varian had to employ all of his skill to overcome the difference between the magic of the Death Knights and his lack thereof.

Still, the numbers were on their side, and with the wide array of warriors and casters in their group, the Death Knights eventually fell before them, swept away by magic or else cut down by the melee weapons of their frontline fighters.

Once the last of the unholy warriors fell on the upper floor, Varian spared a glance at the young heir of House Malfoy. Draco's face was grim, and he moved and fought in a vicious, efficient manner, utilizing the strange magic of his people alongside the dark power of the warlock. There was a sort of madness in the young man's eyes that Varian knew all too well. When Tiffin had died to a thrown stone of an angry mob, Varian had been inconsolable. It had taken dozens of royal guards to prevent the king from going out and seeking revenge on the Stonemasons that had instigated the riot.

Varian would do nothing to stop the young man enact his vengeance on the Scourge, but he was planning on keeping a close eye to protect Draco from doing something too foolhardy.

Below the balcony that they had emerged onto was a large stable, containing the risen mounts of the Death Knights. Groups on mounted warriors were bonding with their mounts, practicing controlling the reins and moving in small groups around the open areas.

Draco was the first to react, growing supremely impatient at their progress. Varian did not understand the words of the spells he was incanting, but the jets of light and flashes of fire that flew from his small wooden wand were such that the mounted Death Knights were thrown into disarray by surprise, before they rounded on the assault force and charged.

The massive ogre mage, Teg'Ramm Varain had heard him be called, bolted to the front, his scepter-like weapon swinging at the lead rider, and knocking the Death Knight from the saddle altogether.

The Dark Horde surged to the front, rallying around Draco and the ogre and viciously dispatching the first group of Dark Riders. "It would seem that the connection between the Malfoys and the Dark Horde are not confirmed," Mathias Shaw said, appearing at Varian's side.

"Yes," Varian agreed, but he was still conflicted, "I do not know if that is altogether a bad thing however…"

"Of course it is, my King," Shaw pressed, "they are allied with outright enemies of the Alliance, and have infiltrated every aspect of Stormwind's upper classes. They have every opportunity to destabilize our political climate, and severely damage the integral nature of our allies."

"And yet," Varian said," they have had over a year to accomplish this, and have done nothing… even their leader has been in my presence, and did nothing to harm or even threaten our people. Both Draco and his mother risked their lives against Onyxia to protect Anduin…"

"That may be," Shaw said, still wary, "but it is still a great risk to keep them so close…"

Soon enough the stable was clear, and the entire force was arranged to press onward. At the far side of the stable there was a ramp leading down to a training room, fitted with dummies and elite Death Knights swinging at them. An undead human strode between them, instructing them in their practice. The man was clad in bluish armor that was clearly magical in nature.

The man's face split into a wide grin as he spotted the arranged force rapidly approaching, "The time for practice is over!" he declared, and the four trainees around him turned to look as well, "Show me what you've learned!"

The four warriors charged, and met the strongest warriors of the four factions head on. The Dark Horde's Warchief, as well as their Death Knight and Ogre Mage, High Overlord Saurfang and Varian himself supported at range by the Banshee Queen and the Lord of Silvermoon, as well as two Amani Trolls.

If Varian had ever thought that such a grouping would be fighting together, the notion would have been laughable. And yet here they were, facing off against the madness of the Scourge. Varian lashed out with Shalamayne, knocking back the undead warrior that accosted him, which opened the foe up for a well placed, black-feathered arrow from the Forsaken Queen.

"You disappoint me, students!" the leader shouted from the back, drawing his own sword and advancing to join the fray.

Shunting the collapsing student aside, Varian leapt forward, blocking the first vicious swing of the instructor with the fused elven blade.

Metal rang upon metal, and the King of Stormwind felt the shock of it run up the length of his arm. Saurfang appeared right behind the instructor, the massive two-handed axe swinging to collide off the back of the undead's breastplate.

Arrows and throwing axes pelted at the instructor, but the powerful Death Knight Trainer deflected many of them with his runeblade, although it seemed that even those that struck did nothing to slow down the relentless Death Knight.

Spells flew from the massive ranks of casters, but the Death Knight raised his gauntleted hand, conjuring a glowing green ward around him that absorbed and negated all the magic hurled at him from the combined warlocks, mages, and shaman in their force.

"Hah hah! I'm just getting warmed up!" the Death Knight taunted, lashing out at Varian once again. The King blocked the strike, but it shoved the mighty human warrior back several feet. Blood magic welled from the base of the Death Knight's weapon, oozing along the blade against the will of gravity, and flecking off as the weapon swung through the air, burning as it struck the ground.

Shaw appeared behind the Death Knight, even as High Overlord Saurfang took the front, stabbing the undead in the open slots between pieces of armor, scoring critical wounds that would have been debilitating for a living opponent, but did little against their undead foe.

The instructor swiftly drew a jagged dagger, and turned his gaze upon the rear line of castors. Varain watched, even as time seemed to slow as the undead focused on Jaina Proudmoore, and hurled the dagger at high speed.

The young sorceress was focused on her next spell, and couldn't dodge the oncoming projectile. Varain started to move to try and do something, but he was too far and too slow to reach her in time. The dagger spun a handful of times, aimed directly at her heart.

"NO!" someone cried, and a body forcefully knocked Lady Proudmoore out of the way of the dagger, which sailed past where she had stood, before being deflected by a wing tainted with the green Fel energy of the warlocks.

Varian released the breath that he hadn't been aware of holding. Draco Malfoy had saved Jaina from the vicious weapon. The wing that had deflected the vile weapon pulled aside, and the blazing eyes of Lord Nobu'tan were revealed, the young man rapidly devolving into his demonic form.

"For Vengeance!" the massive ogre mage bellowed, casting a powerful spell that increased Varain's rage at the vile Scourge. Saurfang had been thrown back by the Death Knight, and Varien sharply turned, leaping at the undead foe and hammering on his defenses with Shalamayne, even as a figure soared through the air, shadows and crackling Fel energy following the Grand Warlock of the Stormreaver Clan like a cloud.

Shouting with the unleashed rage of Lo'Gosh and the bloodlust of the ogre's spell, Varian brought the elven blade down in a powerful two-handed blow on the raised runeblade of his enemy. The enchanted sword of death cracked under the strength of Varian's strike, and soon the weapon snapped completely, even as Nobu'tan's clawed hands seized the undead from behind, and physically threw him across the room.

The wall buckled under the strength that the death knight struck it with, and their foe was entrapped inside the crated of his own body, even as the demonic-shaped warlock stalked forward.

"An honorable… death" the instructor muttered, even as his voice grew fainter, and Nobu'tan reared back, conjuring a lance of pure Fel energy, before driving it into the shattered chestplate that the Death Knight wore, fracturing it utterly and driving the weapon through the undead's stilled organs.

Without the runeblade anchoring the undead's soul to this place, he finally died with a shuddering gasp, and the warlock stepped back, relaxing the power and energy of his hatred and darkness. Varian turned back to see both Malfoy and Proudmoore back on their feet, unharmed and even slightly blushing at the circumstances.

He smirked. Perhaps there was a bit of hope to be found in these dreary halls after all.

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Draco tried to suppress the flushing of his face as he helped Jaina to her feet. He had seen the Death Knight's gaze land on the sorceress as he started to hurl the vicious knife, and had reacted without thought, throwing himself at her to prevent the deadly blade from piercing her chest. The only thought he recalled driving him was that he would not lose someone else to the Scourge, not if there was strength left in him to prevent it.

They hadn't landed particularly hard on the chilled stones of the dread citadel, but Draco had figured that Jaina would not be pleased in her spell being interrupted. But she had simply smiled, and took his offered hand, permitting Draco to pull her to her feet. "Thank you," she said quietly, before turning to see the ending of the battle, where King Varian and Lord Nobu'tan delivered the finishing blows to the Death Knight.

"He really is quite frighteningly powerful…" Jaina said absently, and Draco nodded. There was something inspiring, and yet terrifying when Nobu'tan was enraged and used the full capabilities of the Fel to defeat a foe.

The massive changes upon his body were testament of the fact that he had delved into secrets more great and terrible than any of the other warlocks in the Black Harvest, and Draco was not sure if he was willing to go along the same route into the blackest of arts.

The entire force, once healed and prepared for the next leg of their journey, advanced as one toward the next chamber beyond. As space opened for the rear line to advance, Draco allowed Jaina to go ahead of him, and followed as they marched on down the corridor that was behind the training Death Knights.

Draco seethed at the evil of the undead as they walked, only pausing as a final group of Death Knights blocked their way into the next chamber, which were defeated swiftly by some ranged bombardment from their heavy hitting casters.

The room following was filled with floating rune weapons of many different shapes and sizes. These flew toward them automatically, as thought the souls of undead that inhabited them were still active and hateful.

The two Stormwind royal guards ran forward, their large tower shields forming a small barrier for the initial onslaught of the enchanted weapons, even as the mages and warlocks started to herd the rest away from their flanks with fire and frost magic.

Crackling lightning surged from the Horde Shaman, bouncing from target to target and stunning the weapons as they were struck, knocking them to the ground in rapid succession.

Within moments the entire room was clear, and there was a large pile of the defeated and broken weapons. None in the company thought they were worth the effort to recover, and so they moved on, rounding the edge of the room to another corridor filled with the martial warriors of the Scourge.

Draco wasn't concerned, as the Death Knights had proven to be unmatched compared to their united assault team, and within minutes they were pushing on once more. They turned another corner, and entered a wide chamber, divided into two chief sections by a massive wall and gate. On a high balcony overlooking their side of the gate, loomed the ghastly face of the necromancer, Gothik the Harvester.

"You!" Draco shouted, stalking forward into the chamber.

"Hello again, little wizard…" the necromancer said, leaning forward and placing a single decrepit hand onto the railing of the high balcony. "I had been hoping that you would make it to my domain. You seek your long lost love, yes? Behold…"

He gestured toward the other side of the chamber, where a female figure lay. Draco's eyes widened as he recognized the face, even through the filth and dirty clothing, "Pansy…" he breathed.

"Draco!" someone called from the company, but he was oblivious to all else except the body of his fiancé. He dashed toward her, unheeding of those that tore away from the group to chase and halt him. Someone's strong arms grabbed Draco from behind, just past the gate, and held him fast, "she is gone Draco," King Varian Wrynn said, holding him fast, "it is a trap, and I will not allow you to fall into it!"

Draco struggled weakly, but froze as soon as Pansy started to stir. She rose shakily to her feet, drawing a wand and looking up at them through the wild and matted hair. Her eyes were blackened, with a chilling blue burning at their center. "Dra…co!" she said haltingly, starting to shuffle toward Draco and Varian, even as the gate slammed shut behind them and those that had followed the King of Stormwind.

"Foolishly you have sought your own demise." Gothik the Harvester taunted, addressing them all. " Brazenly you have disregarded powers beyond your understanding. You have fought hard to invade the realm of the harvester. Now there is only one way to walk the lonely path of the damned."

From behind them, the clatter of armor and bone announced the appearance of many undead; ambushing the rest of their company, but Draco had eyes only for Pansy, who started to cast with her wand, unable to resist the power of the necromancer that had turned her into this monster.

Throwing himself and the King to the side, Draco dodged a powerful curse, which rang off the enchanted metal gates with a splash of sparks and noise.

"As you see, I have made some… improvements since you last meeting," the necromancer called over, clearly amused and enjoying the chaos beneath him. Draco shot a spell up at Gothik in order to silence him, but there was some sort of barrier preventing it from connecting with the vile necromancer, who laughed at the futile attempt.

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Thrall observed the advance of the Dark Horde forces with sadness in his heart.

These were orcs and Tauren that could have at one time been in harmony with his people, accepting their place in the world and being content that they were permitted to enjoy it, no matter how harsh and difficult the lot was.

But these had chosen war and blood over even those that were their kin. They had embraced the dark deeds of their past and took up the blood of demons as their weapon once more. Those Grimtotem tauren, and even the clans of centaur that had been pushed to Desolace from the Barrens had consumed such evil power, and their monstrosities now poured into the lush valley of Mulgore. For so long this peaceful place had been safe from the raids of the centaur, but it seemed that time was long over.

The Horde had been assembled, every adventurer having come to answer the call of their Warchief, and more pouring into the valley from the Barrens by the hour. "We are out of time, the battle starts soon," Thrall said, turning to the nearest Bluffwatcher. The stoic tauren nodded, before departing to relay the message to Carine, who was in charge of this battle and their tactics.

Thrall knew that the old bull would want him to take charge of such matters, but the young orc shaman would not usurp the leadership of the High Chieftain in his city, but rather would follow where Carine told them to go, and rally the warriors of the Horde under the united banner of the Bloodhoof and the Horde.

The forces arrayed against them would require a great effort on their part, Thrall noted, even as he spied the massive ranks of demons. The warlocks of the Dark Horde must have worked long and tirelessly to summon and bind such an army. Even as the sky darkened above the bluffs, Thrall knew that they would be seeing many more demons than those on the plains.

There was a rustle of wind, and Thrall looked up to see the windriders of the Horde taking to the air. The wyverns and bats wheeled down from the upper bluffs, carrying explosives and other ranged weapons to bombard the lines of the Dark Horde.

The ordinance that the Dark Horde threw into the air in retaliation was not as impressive as their defense of Thoradin's Wall, but many of the Horde flyers still were struck and knocked to the ground. Projectiles and spells were hurled down in an attempt to support the bomb carrying windriders, but it was too little avail.

Green bolts of lightning crackled above their heads, as the clouds turned jet black and started to hurl Fel meteorites down upon Thunder Bluff. "Arise, warriors of the Horde, do not allow these demons to gain ground!" Thrall said, spinning the Doomhammer swiftly and charging the nearest crater, where an infernal was starting to rise.

"Spirit of Fire, heed my call!" Thrall chanted, allowing the magma to gather around the head of the powerful weapon of the Horde, and crushed the head of the Fel Golem, shattering it utterly and sending the destructive creature to the ground once more.

All across the bluffs, Horde soldiers and Tauren guards rallied against the Legion's reinforcements, momentarily turning their attention away from those down in the valley. By the time Thrall looked again, he realized the purpose behind the distraction raining down from the sky.

Large ballistae were being wheeled up through the ranks of the forces below them, with great chains attached to their projectiles. Rapidly, they started to fire, the massive bolts flying upward over the buildings on top of the mesas. They blasted through houses, and locked in place, trailing their long chains back down to a series of massive ladders on the plains far below.

Large demons started turning cranks inserted into machines, which started to pull the chains taut, dragging the ladders into the air and slowly working them into place for the Dark Horde to scale Thunder Bluff without the use of the Tauren's elevators.

The ladders were already cramped with warriors, demons and Fel-infused members of the Grimtotem tribe, and they flooded onto the main bluff as soon as the ladders fell into place, iron bars falling to dig into the ground and hold them in place.

A roar came from the central area of the city, and Thrall caught a glance of the massive totem that Carine wore as the aged bull charged into the fray with his honor guard. "For the Warchief and the Tribes!" Cairne shouted, the runespear finding place in a demon's unprotected midsection, throwing the creature backward into a knot of warlocks trying to open a portal on top of the bluff directly.

"Lok narash!" Thrall shouted, rallying those near him to charge the tops of the ladders, and prevent the enemy from ascending to the top of the bluffs completely. Lightning flew from his open hand, spearing through several enemy soldiers, and Thrall advanced, the Kor'kron who had arrived to support him fanning out and trying to flank those advancing from the position of the ladders.

Calling on the spirit of the winds, Thrall stuck heavily at the nearest Felguard, slamming the Doomhammer into the chestplate of the towering demon. The metal splintered under the heavy blow of the enchanted hammer, and winds blasted around them, cutting deeply into the hide of the vile Legion warrior.

"Ishne'alo'porah!" Cairne shouted, appearing at Thrall side, the massive totem in his hands, already swinging to knock another foe heavily backward.

"call all the shaman you can," Thrall said, parrying another deadly Fel weapon, "We will use the elements to keep this foes from ascending their precious ladders!"

Cairne bellowed out the order, clearly enjoying the thrill of battle despite the direness of the situation.

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Jaina raised a shield rapidly, defending against the bombardment fo spell from the risen corpse that was once Draco Malfoy's fiancé. She had followed swiftly when Varian bolted after Draco, along with the two Stormwind royal guards, Mathias Shaw, and a handful of figures from the Dark Horde. They were now separated from their fellows by the massive enchanted gate, and the sound of battle behind them told her that they had walked blindly into an ambush.

The necromancer laughed, a ghastly sound, which reminded Jaina of Kel'Thuzad when she faced the madman alongside Arthas. The undead mage jerked as she walked, casting more spells at them with such power that Jaina was startled and nearly lost control of her shield. If this was the might of Draco's people, she shuddered to think what they were capable of if they were truly the enemies of the Alliance, rather than their allies.

"Pansy…" Draco murmured, still fighting in Varian's arms, preventing either rof them from taking action to prevent the assault from the slave of the Scourge before them.

"She's gone son," Varian said, valiantly trying to snap the younger man out of his state, "the thing before us is not her! You must control yourself!"

Jaina chanced a glance through the gate to see what their fellows were facing, and spotted more Death Knights, and other undead warriors pouring out of small portals, clearing coming from locations unknown. The others were holding them off strongly, and cutting down many of them.

But then the necromancer raised a hand, cackling once more as he cast a spell. The spirits of the slain Scourge warriors flew upward, shifting through the air and crossing the threshold of the gate, to the side with Jaina and the others facing off the dead Pansy Parkinson. There they reformed, ghosts of their former selves, and screamed the cries of the damned, before rushing between the magical blasts of the terribly weapon that Gothik the Harvester had created.

Shaw danced about, putting down as many spirits as dared advance on their King, and pleased loudly with Varian to get control over the young man. The waves of dead spirits did not end, and Jaina knew they would be overrun unless she did something.

The spirits swarmed over one of the honor guards, dragging the man screaming to the ground. "Death is the only escape…" the Harvester taunted, smirking with yellowed teeth.

"Enough!" Jaina said, blasting her shield outward, deflecting spells from all sides and opening the opportunity for her to counter attack. Blasts of arcane and frost magic flew from her staff, striking the spirits as they appeared and started toward them, while she turned the tables against the undead sorceress.

It seemed that defensive magic was just as strong as offensive with this opponent, if the powerful shield and counter charms she used to defend against the pure arcane bolts and shards of deadly ice were any indication.

Still, there was an advantage in taking to the attack here. The reprieve on the others was enough that Varian was able to take Draco forcefully by the collar of his robes and slam him into the enchanted gate, "As your King I order you to snap out of it," Varian bellowed, shocking the younger man out of his shock and horror.

"We need to fight back!" Varian declared, and from the lack of struggle behind her, Jaina assumed that Draco was finally aware of the world around him. Summoning a pair of elementals to continue the pressure of harassing their foe, Jaina turned and gauged the state of those on the other side of the gate once more.

Past Varian and Draco, who seemed to be having a moment of strength between them, the others were easily overcoming the waves of undead being thrown at them, but the Harvester was just using the death of his minions ot fuel his power, sending them over to accost Jaina's side of the gate.

"I need some help here!" she called back, and finally the two men leapt into action. Draco, wand aloft, sent a multitude of colored jets of light at his former fiancé, tears still streaming from his face as he attacked. Meanwhile, Varain sprinted at the ghostly specters, along with Shaw and the other soldiers, cleaving them apart and putting them to rest once more.

Soon all of the shades were gone, and only the powerful magical undead remained. Somehow, even against two foes now, she was still holding her own, the power of the Scourge seeming to have strengthened her well beyond what she possessed in life.

Suddenly, the gate behind them sprang open, reuniting the two split groups of attackers, and the Harvest appeared beside his creation in a burst of shadow magic.

"I have waited long enough! Now, you face the harvester of souls!" Gothik said menacingly, already leveraging his power to raise more corpses to fight for him, and launching a powerful bolt of shadow magic at Jaina.

Draco swept between the Sorceress and the spell, a barrier of Fel magic absorbing and negating the blast of dark magic. "You handle Pansy, the Harvester is mine…." He said, the anger in his voice bubbling to the surface once more. Jaina had no time to object, as the battle started again in earnest, and soon she found herself alongside two Blood Elf Magisters, and Nobu'tan the warlock himself, all battling the undead witch as she danced around their spells and retaliated with her own power.

Meanwhile, Draco took the lead against the necromancer directly, along with several Dark Horde warlocks at his side. The tide was starting to turn, the full weight of the force leveraged against even the powerful summoner and his strongest minion.

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Master Mahan watched the chaos that erupted around the plateaus of Thunder Bluff. The ladders were functioning perfectly, and the distraction of the infernals had permitted them to be placed in secure locations.

"Switch to the immolation bolts," Mahan ordered, and the siege engineers he had tasked with controlling the ballistae hurried to obey. They would burn this city to the ground before permitting their enemies to control it any longer, and the fools he sent ahead would keep them occupied while Thunder Bluff burned around them.

Nodding to a group of Feltotem Tauren, who took to the air on windriders they had captured in the Stonetalon Mountains, Mahan launched another phase of their plan.

These Fel-powered Tauren were ordered to circle around the back of the city, infiltrate the place called the Elder's Rise, and "liberate" Magatha Grimtotem into their custody. The High Crone of the Grimtotem in their power would prove more effective than anything in making sure that the rest of the Grimtotem clan submitted to the power of the Dark Horde, and participated in the ritual to join the ranks of the Feltotem.

Everything was going exactly as he had planned, along with Lord Banehollow, who had taught Mahan much in the arts of manipulation and deceit. The options that opened before him when he thought of those around him as mere tools and pawns to further his own goals seemed limitless, and Master Mahan was already setting his sights on the orcish city of Orgrimmar beyond the Barrens.

He was snapped out of his revelry of their impending success by the sharp crack of thunder. Sparks and lightning were flashing about the top of the nearest mesa, before an overlarge bolt zigzagged down one of the massive ladders, shattering it and sending many Dark Horde warriors and demons screaming to the ground of the plains.

"So, the orcish Warchief is here…" Mahan surmised, thinking hard. The powerful shaman seemed to care far too much about his people, and would do anything in his power to protect them. If that was the case, Mahan thought with a sinister smirk, then he would give him a more to rescue than even the powerful Thrall could manage.

"Target the Hunter and Spirit rises!" he ordered, signaling the ballistae to fire on the two smaller mesas flanking the large central one.

The warlock figured the most of the civilians had withdrawn to these places, and would therefore be ripe for the picking while the main battle fought in the center. Flames erupted as the explosive bolts landed heavily on the major buildings of the two rises, and screams followed quickly.

"Send in Felbats to harass them all," Mahan added, leveling his powerful magic with those warlocks still on the plains, opening a portal to a Legion world and allowing massive numbers of the flying creatures into their world.

Snapping and snarling, the hideous bat-like beasts took to the air swiftly, meeting the wind riders of the Horde and harassing their ground forces on top of the mesas.

"Now let a storm of destruction take them all!" Master Mahan shouted, gleefully throwing his arms wide, channeling the raw power of the Fel through him, and conjuring a deadly rain of shadowfire across the largest plateau. Thunder Bluff would burn, and from the ashes and foundations the Dark Horde would create a powerful fortress, and from this secure valley they would spread across the Barrens and through the whole of Kalimdor.

"My power will be absolute!" he shouted, reveling in the mad power and schemes for the future that flashed in his brilliant mind. Theodore Nott, the master of the great secrets of the Legion would become a power to rival even Lord Nobu'tan, and finally gain the recognition he deserved.

"ENOUGH! SPIRITS OF THE WIND, THE EARTH, THE WATER! HEED MY CALL!" a voice boomed over the din, and a titanic flash of lightning made Mahan stagger backward. I single figure loomed over the edge of the mesa, a massive warhammer crackling with lightning in his green hand, even as the other stretched to the sky.

A great torrent of wind surged from the east, sending Theodore's robes billowing madly, and forcing him to cover his eyes to protect them from flying dust out of the Barrens. A deluge of rain started to pour, extinguishing fires all across Thunder Bluff, and flashed of lightning crashed through the air, striking forces on the ground and knocking scores of Felbats out of the sky.

The ground rumbled, cracks and seams splitting all across the plains under the forces of the Dark Horde, and from the east a massive tornado touched down, ripping up grass and trees alike as it barreled toward their ranks.

Mahan snarled, knowing that the moral of his army would be broken, and they would likely retreat even if he did not order for it. Turned, he started away toward the pass that they had used to enter Mulgore, anger seething inside him as he knew that the Orcish Warchief had single-handedly won this round. But this was only the beginning, he swore it.

So long as he held Desolace, he could summon additional demons, and attack them wherever they dwelled, at any time.

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Draco faced off against Gothik the Harvester, trading spells with a fury that inwardly shocked even himself. He was delving into dark curses that he had been aware of, but never cast before, but in his rage they flew from his wand's tip without pause to even consider what he was doing.

The necromancer might have been proficient with raising the dead, and controlling his minions, but in combat magic he was sorely lacking, and the separation in skill with that regard quickly made itself apparent as Draco crushed every defense that Gothik put between himself and the death that Draco threatened him with.

Very quickly Draco picked up on the basic pattern that the necromancer swiftly fell into, his lack of skill showing itself as Draco pushed ahead of the others. A well timed disarming charm sent the skull-topped staff flying away, leaving the man defenseless for effectively channeling his spells.

"And now necromancer, you will die!" Draco roared, jabbing his wand forward, "Avada Kedavera!"

The green jet of pure death launched forward, directly on target for Gothik's chest.

"Not so fast, little child…" the Harvester sneered, thrusting an arm out and ripping Pansy away from her confrontation with Lord Nobu'tan, Jaina and the other mages. Draco watched, unable to stop his spell as his fiancé was forcefully placed in the path of his own hatred. She shrieked as the spell struck, and her spirit was forcefully ejected from the remains of her body.

She crumpled, and Draco lost control of himself. Thrusting both hands forward, he ripped at what life energy remained in the undead necromancer, not even absorbing it himself, but throwing the released life force in all directions without mercy, just wanting to make certain that the necromancer just finally died.

"I… am… undone!" the Harvester groaned, sinking to the ground and withering before their eyes as Draco drained him of every last scrap of life his frail body held. The flame of vegance burned in him as the necromancer breathed his last, and only faded when his spell found nothing more to pull from the dried and mummified corpse.

Shakily, he staggered forward, and dropped to his knees, gathering Pansy's body in his arms, and wept openly, uncaring of proper decorum or who would see his tears. Tears splattered her cold face, and blearily he wiped then from her, righting her hair behind her ears she Pansy had always worn it in life.

A firm hand rested on his shoulder, "We will give her a proper burial in Stormwind, I promise you this," Varian said heavily, the King clearly understanding the pain and anguish that Draco felt. "Let my men carry her body back to the entrance. There it will wait for us, preserved by magic until it is time to depart this wretched place."

Slowly, Draco calmed himself. The murder of his beloved was dead, and he was able to temporarily put all else aside.

"Come," the king said, helping Draco to his feet, "there is still much to do to see the end of this madness."

Draco allowed himself to be pulled away from Pansy, even as the royal Stormwind Guards produced a sheet and started to wrap her body. Draco would see the end of this, and return.