Well, it got cut very fine indeed to the line, but I have finally pushed through my writer's block and gotten a chapter done to start balancing out the backlog, but there is still a lot of work to go before I have a reasonable amount built up to consider posting more frequently. Still, we are pushing along toward the end of the Lich King Arc, and then things will become significantly more complicated, and more delightful to write. Many thanks to all those who continue to read and review, your words of encouragement, or otherwise, is appreciated to keep me motivated toward continuing the story in spite of all obstacles. Enjoy! ~F

Chapter 173

The Desolation Gate

Fire exploded high above them, even as Teg'Ramm shouted for the first battalion of the Dark Horde to advance. The undead on this side of the gate were fodder at best, clearly some means of luring the hapless into pushing beyond the gate without any care or caution.

Nobu'tan had foreseen this, just as Teg'Ramm had guessed, and they were to take the gate altogether, before even thinking of pushing forward into the next valley. Secretly, the Ogre Mage suspected that the Grand Warlock hoped the other factions would realize their folly and join them before they made it past this wall, but at the same time it was a small hope.

They had to fight as though everything relied on them alone. Bannock and his Dawn's Hammer Clan took the lead, their powers over the Light at last put to the test against the undead and their vile magic. Scores of demons swarmed down from above, courtesy of the Shadowmoon and Stormreaver Clan warlocks, filling the skies and preventing their enemies from effectively launching a ranged barrage.

At the same time, the artillery fire continued, slamming fire and boulders into the top of the walls, more to keep the undead from having the high ground than to actually break a hold in the barrier.

"Here come their fliers!" a nearby Blockrock orc shouted, and Teg looked upward, seeing swarms of Gargoyles pouring over the walls to meet the flying demons.

Or they would have, if not for a barrage of long ranged projectiles and spells flying from their outpost on the cliff-top.

The battle continued, scores of undead pouring through the wide maw of the gate, right into the waiting arms of the Dark Horde's weapons.

The Scourge commanders were not even concerned about their losses, just kept sending more fodder through in the hopes that they would wear down the living and overwhelm them.

Teg'Ramm saw this for what it was; an extremely wasteful strategy. He had easily adjusted their formation for maximum effectiveness against it. The Blightbringers, Shadowmoon Death Knights, and Dawn's Hammer were the ones to swarm the gate itself, while the others took up supportive positions, healing and ranged abilities funneling the undead into a narrow kill window that narrowed with every wave they slaughtered.

"They want us to push through, don't let them bait you in," Teg'Ramm admonished them all; "More powerful warriors wait on the other side. We must be just as patient and force them to come to us."

Amani and Drakari trolls fell back from the gate at a signal, long grappling hooks and ropes in their hands. Their orders were to scale the walls once the trebuchets and casters had cleared the parapets of their foes, and start assaulting the far side, prior to a single melee soldier stepping through the gate.

If there were even a whisper of a chance that the leaders of the Scourge had defenses here other than scores of their mindless minions, the Dark Horde would not be falling for them. Far behind them, the whirling of gears and snap of ropes signaled another wave of trebuchet fire, this time arching over the wall altogether. The blast of shattering glass and roar of fire from the far side was answered with the screech of the rotten corpses.

"Ladders!" Teg'Ramm ordered, and the reserves surged forward, now covered from any attack from the defenders of the wall with their forces atop it. The burly Fel orcs of the Bleeding Hollow and Bonechewer clans hefted the enormous ladders into place, allowing their less nimble of their ranged forces to scale the wall and gain the advantage of the highest ground.

"Blightbringers, up on those walls, we need your spells manipulating their forces!" Teg'Ramm ordered, spotting the Death Knight Voldemort and his possessed creature leading his force of necrolytes and undead.

The undead human glowered at the order, but obeyed without complaint, his servant taking wing to ascend to the upper ramparts and begin interfering with the forces that waited for them.

Waiting as long as he felt needed for the top of the wall to be secure, he bellowed a command to charge, and took the lead in pushing through the next pathetic wave of ghouls and skeletons, hammering the defenders with his Fel empowered body as he forced his way forward.

The ogre mage lord was not in the least surprised to find a host waiting for them on the other side, well away from the area that the long range weapons had been pounding. The elites of the Lich King were not as foolish as they had tried to deceive them into believing.

But the Dark Horde had prepared well for this outcome, and even with the arrayed companies of dead heroes of all races on the planet, they would endure this siege and push forward.

"Secure the perimeter, and prepare for the counter assault!" Teg ordered, even as his ogres took the lead charge. Their honor was the glory of combat, and they would fight and die for the Dark Horde. The mounted commanders of the undead force before them raised a gloved hand, and the ghostly army roared their agony before leaping forward to meet them in the shadow of the wall.

Blood surged in his ears, even as Teg'Ramm felt the magic of their shaman call out to the elements to send all their force into the maddening rage of their kind. "To battle!" he bellowed, swinging at the first undead to cross his path, severing it in two and sending the pieces flying backward from the force of the blow from his clawed fist.

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Sylvanas knew she had bitten off more than she could chew. Arthas had grown significantly more powerful since Lordaeron, and even then, she had had to use an ambush and specially prepared arrows to try to take him down.

Now, he held the upper hand, and had already killed several of her Dark Rangers in their vicious attempt to hold him off.

Sylvanas was already straining just to figure out how they were going to escape, hoping that Proudmoore and the rest of her Rangers escaped the previous chamber and its trap to give her the time to get them all out.

Just as she thought this, the doors that had slammed behind them smashed inward, powerful gusts of icy wind nearly taking them off their hinges. "Arthas!" Jaina Proudmoore bellowed, ice forming in her hands, "This ends now!"

The Lich King however, had eyes only for Sylvanas, "I will not make the same mistake again, Windrunner. This time there will be no escape. You will all serve me in death!"

"He's too powerful!" Sylvanas called to Proudmoore and her warriors, "We must leave this place at once! I will do what I can to hold him off!" channeling what magic she dared, she fired a blackened arrow at her hated foe. The arrow struck the Helm of Domination, stunning the mad King and giving those entering the room the time they needed to cross to where Sylvanas waited for them.

Turning quickly, the Banshee Queen used a pair of powerful shots to blast open another set of doors, which led out to a frozen shelf of ice that ringed this section of the Citadel. They fled, there was no doubt of it, or dishonor in the act. They were outmatched, and ambushed. Retreat was the only option to survive. Too soon for Sylvanas' liking, Arthas recovered and began his pursuit, strolling nearly casually along the ice after them, even as a howling gale tore around him at his command. "Death's cold embrace awaits!"

The path appeared to lead to some other balcony outside the citadel itself, but soon a wall of pillared ice erupted from the shelf to block their pathway. "There is no escape," the Lich King tautned, even as his minions rose up to throw themselves at Sylvanas' Dark Rangers.

"I will destroy this barrier. Hold the undead back." Proudmoore said, taking the lead and using her own power over frost to combat the Lich King's mastery of it.

Whirling, Sylvanas quickly counted her arrows as she drew one. She was low, and she could tell at a glance that her Dark Rangers were also running dry. Soon they would need to use their blades, and then things would become a problem for them. Engaging the Scourge in melee was folly in their situation, but options were something they were running slimmer on than arrows.

Slinging the bow quickly over her shoulder, the Banshee Queen drew her melee weapons, prompting her followers to do the same. If they were to run out of arrows, it was best to save them for when they really needed them, and not waste them on the fodder that Arthas would throw at them to begin with.

Fortunately, they did not need to keep up the defense for long, as within moments the shattering crash signaled the destruction of the barrier of ice. Quickly they fell back, trying to make as much distance from the approaching Lich King and his minions as possible, until a second wall of ice erupted to block them.

"Another barrier…" Sylvanas growled, tapping into her own inherent magic, "I will bring this one down, focus on hindering the advancing undead," she said. Proudmoore was better to be keeping the enemy back, with her larger reserves of magic than their supply of arrows.

"Succumb to the chill of the grave," taunted the Lich King, bringing up the rear of another wave of ghouls and skeletons. Mere fodder for them, but Proudmoore was better suited for keeping them back than Sylvanas at the moment.

Additionally, the Banshee Queen knew the Lich King's magic well, and how to unravel it quickly. The bindings of this magic were not complicated, nor held by his oppressive will, merely throw up to slow them down while stronger minions of the Scourge started for them. Sylvanas shattered it in a flash, and together they were off again.

More hulking abominations lurched after them, and they were forced to deal with them as a third ice wall was placed between them and what seemed like escape. "Another dead end…" the Lich King chided.

"We're almost there… Don't give up!" Proudmoore said, as soon as the pursuing flesh golems were destroyed, whirling to shatter the ice itself from impeding their path.

Sylvanas worried that this might continue on until the Lich King finally caught up to them, but they were drastically nearer to their escape when this ice barrier went down.

They were nearly at the tunnel entrance to the outer parapets when yet another ice wall was throw up in their path. "How long can you fight it?" Arthas said, the mirth in his voice visible even through the echoing death of his speech.

"You won't impede our escape, fiend!" Sylvanas shouted back, drawing her final arrows. The ice could not withstand her shots, and exploded inward with a hailstorm of ice.

"There's an opening at the other side, GO NOW!" she shouted, urging the others to make their mad dash. Getting trapped inside the tunnel was not a good option, as the limited space would crowd them together and give their enemy the chance to catch up easily.

Fortunately, they made it through without hinderance, and scrambled onto the high overlook… just to reveal a high plummet as the other possible escape. "BLASTED DEAD END!" Sylvanas shouted, her anger overflowing. "So this is how it ends… Prepare yourself, Lady Proudmoore, we make our final stand here!"

Out of arrows, Sylvanas slashed and stabbed with all her strength, hewing down every mindless Scourge undead that approached, but Arthas was inside the tunnel behind them now, and the chill of his power was already creeping toward them.

"Nowhere to run!" he taunted, "You're mine now…"

But Sylvanas just smirked as the armored figure drew nearer. The whirl of machinery was the only cue that they had before the bright red blimps that supported the newest airship of the Horde rose into view.

Ogrim's Hammer turned quickly, ready to broadside the entire mountainside, "FIRE! FIRE!" the Sky-Reaver shouted, even as the cannons started to blaze, shattering the stone and ice and collapsing the tunnel right in the Lich King's face.

The ramp slammed down on the stones, and the captain beckoned them on board, "This whole mountainside could collapse at any moment, get onboard, now!" he called.

Ushering Proudmoore onto the deck, Sylvanas was the last to depart. Watching the tunnel as Orgrim's Hammer pulled away, knowing that they had failed at the one goal that she had sought for years.

"We are safe… for now," Proudmoore said, but Sylvanas was shaking her head. "His strength has increased ten-fold since our last battle." She said, "It will take a mighty army to destroy the Lich King, an army greater than the Horde or Alliance alone can rouse…"

"But we know now what must be done…" Jaina said, "I will deliver this news to King Varian and Highlord Fordring, while you go to Thrall."

The Sorceress teleported before any could say another word, but Sylvanas was uncertain of her own objective. Destroying Arthas had just become significantly more complicated than she had ever dreamed of.

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Blaise held his peace, even as he attended to Lord Nobu'tan as the latter oversaw the battle before them.

Banner carriers and musicians signaled for the clans on the ground to push forward, even as more of the troll tribes scale the massive wall of the Desolation Gate, although with their vantage, the Lord of the Stormreavers was already planning for the host arrayed against them on the far side.

"The Lich King planned his defenses well," Nobu'tan said, blinking rapidly as his vision returned from scouting the far side of the wall, "But I am confident that we can push through them, even without the other factions."

Signaling for the goblin engineers, Nobu'tan relayed specific orders for the next volleys of artillery fire, and then turned his attention to the wall itself. "We need to arrange our caster atop that wall, in order to best support the ground assault. Come,"

Kil'jaeden's scepter flared to life in the warlock's hand, and he tore open a portal for them all to travel through, emerging atop of the wall, in full view of the lines of powerful undead awaiting their armies.

Blaise suddenly understood why their progress had been so easy up to this point, with all the most powerful servants of the Lich King stationed here, to stop any final advance on his fortress, no wonder they relied on such desiccated and frail warriors outside Icecrown itself.

The spell casters of the three chief clans: Stormreaver, Blackrock, and Dragonmaw, arrayed themselves along the inward battlements, readying larger spells to use in support of their ground troops below.

Blaise kept himself alert, unwilling to risk lowering his guard despite their perceived distance from the actual fighting. Because of his training with the master assassin, he noticed immediately when several of the piles of bodies started to stir.

In a flash, he interposed himself between the Grand Warlock and the leaping ghoulish ambusher. His daggers roared with Felflame as he cut the creature down. Nobu'tan glanced back, nodding his appreciation, before returning his attention to the battle below.

Goblin sighters started to relay information back to their trebuchet nests, even as along the line the casters started to bombard the line of the Scourge forces, even as ogres and wolf riders charged the line in a feign attack.

Blaise saw the strategy, trying to provoke the undead into starting the fight on the Dark Horde's terms, rather than allowing them to dictate where and how the battle progressed, but it seemed as those these undead were more controlled then those beyond the immediate range of the Lich King's citadel.

"What are they waiting for?" Nobu'tan asked, speaking more to himself than Blaise but the assassin was the only close enough to hear him.

Then they heard the beating of many wings from the far side of the battlefield. Glancing upward, Blaise was unsurprised to see the standard compliment of gargoyles and frost wyrms, but the large number of valkyr were more concerning.

"Ah, yes, that would be a good reason to wait," Nobu'tan muttered, even as the lines of the Scourge started their advance. It seemed as those they wanted to simply push their forces back through the gate, which was in and of itself a strange tactic for the undead, but the Dark Horde's response was unchanged by this fact.

They would withstand as long as they could, forcing the Scourge to funnel themselves as much as possible. So long as they held the wall they could command the skies, and with those under their control, the hordes on the ground would do little to stop their inevitable victory.

"For the Lich King! You will all die!" the flying abominations shrieked, diving toward their forces atop the wall, and Nobu'tan reacted to protect his people. Rocketing off the battlements, the Grand Warlock allowed the Fel to take command of his form, and rushed upward to meet the winged undead head on.

Blaise swore loudly, but he had enough on his own plate, even as gargoyles started to swoop down and assault their ranged warriors. They had to get their portals opened now, and unleash the might of their aerial forces led by the Dragonmaw Clan to enforce their command of the air of Northrend, but with these beasts already bearing down on them, it was looking to be a struggle just to open one more demon portal.

Just as he thought this, the whirring of engine-blades tore his attention back toward their rear, as a massive airship barreled toward them, guns and other weapons already firing at the torrent of Scourge creatures clustering the air.

Information had been delivered to them of these airships that the other factions had been building, and this had to be the one commanded by the Alliance: The Skybreaker.

The horns from the ground also indicated that the other factions had come to their senses and were ready to join the battle, but Blaise did not care to see as they approached. "Push them back and get those portals opened!" he shouted, releasing a burst of Fel magic to push back those nearest, trying to grab at him with their boney stone-like claws.

Together, the warlocks and other range fighters of the Dark Horde rallied their efforts, driving back the nearest winged horrors, and allowed their summoners to double back behind a phalanx of their magic and weapons, where they could start eh group rituals to open the nether portals.

Even as the first started to manifest, another massive airship, sporting the banner of the Kalimdor Horde, appeared from the direction of Icecrown Citadel itself, plunging through the host arrayed against them, its weapons firing as it cut a swath through the enemy ranks.

Still, as the first Fel Drake roared to signal its arrival, Blaise couldn't help but smile. The other factions had been denied witnessing the full might of their air forces in Outland, and those who had seen them so far in Northrend had not lived to tell the tale.

"Let the might of the Dark Horde show the world why we are its true defenders," Blaise whispered to himself, even as the demonically empowered drakes leapt into the air four at a time, Felflame blasting countless flying undead from the air as they swarmed over the wall that they now fully claimed.

Turning his attention once more to their impetuous leader, dueling in the air with the fallen angel creatures, Blaise sought for a way to assist Nobu'tan to make sure that he survived the encounter. He was severely outnumbered, with the Feldrakes only just starting to push through the swarm of gargoyles, but he was holding his own against the undead angels.

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Jaina hadn't even the time to process the shock and horror of what they had witnessed in Icecriwn Citadel, as when the Horde gunship pulled away from the vile tower, they started toward what appeared to be the already-begun pitched battle to push the armies of Azeroth toward the Lich King's fortress.

"Hold on, we're coming in to a hot one!" Sky-Reaver Blackscar shouted from the helm, even as the entire ship veered to the left, dipping to plow straight into the thick of the fighting.

"Dark Horde forces on the ground…" Sylvanas said, eyeing the approaching battlefield, "No sight of Alliance or Kalimdor warriors on thr ground…"

"Nobu'tan must have gotten fed up with the tournament and left early," Jaina said, joining the Banshee at the railing as they hurtled closer, "We need to lend what aid we can…"

"If not for the fight against the Lich King, I would question why aid that fool whatsoever," Sylvanas commented, the venom dripping from her words. Jaina was very aware of the bad blood that existed between the forsaken and the Dark Horde, but whatever her issues with Nobu'tan and their faction infighting, Jaina refused to be part of it.

"Blood and Thunder! Lok'tar Ogar!" the Sky-Reaver shouted, echoed by all aboard the Horde vessel. Within seconds, the sky around them was filled with Scourge fliers and Dark Horde drake-riders, and the guns all along the rim of the gunship opened fire, filling the air around them with shrapnel.

One of the Dark Horde's fliers swooped over them, and Jaina puzzled at the mottled-black scales of the drake. If they were anything, she would have to guess.

"Fel-empowered, black drakes…" Sylvanas said, coming to the same conclusion, "So Onyxia and Nefarian's brood were not all destroyed, but rather conscripted into the Dark Horde…"

"I cannot agree with his methods and beguiling influence," Jaina said, allowing the arcane to build up around her, preparing to level a blizzard over the Scourge ground forces, "but you cannot deny he has a presence that commands equal parts respect and enmity."

The former Ranger-General thought for a moment, lining up a shot for a passing gargoyle, "I suppose I can agree about that, in both parts…" she said, planting her arrow between the beast's eyes.

Jaina could tell there was much left unsaid that Sylvanas felt, and she wasn't going to press the subject, as she did not expect to gain much ground with the revenge-obsessed Queen of the Forsaken. The former High Elf had lost too much, and her desires could not be swayed any more than they could have been while in life.

Still, she fought on with the rest of them, putting aside her hatred for a common foe, even as the plummeted through the thickest of the Scourge swarm, the Dark Horde Drakes forming a swirling guard around them to keep anything from the blimp bags keeping their gunship aloft.

"Watch out!" cried a gunner, and Jaina turned to see a strange, angel-like creature barreling toward them, locked in battle with another flying form, with demonic wings beating to hurl them both toward the deck of the gunship.

There was no dodging their craft out of the way, and with a small explosion of wood the two crashed into the deck, the demonic form of Nobu'tan looming over the fallen undead creature, even as he stomped on the armored head until the creature lay still.

Looking around wildly for a moment, it seemed as though the Grand Warlock had thought this was a Scourge vessel, before he slightly relaxed at the sight of Jaina. "Lady Proudmoore, at least you of all had sense to come to battle before the others…"

That was, of course, before he registered that it was a Horde vessel, and Nobu'tan's eye found their way to Sylvanas'.

"You…" the warlock breathed, his grip on his staff tightening as he considered his options. Jaina was afraid that they might fight here and now, and moved to stand between Nobu'tan and Sylvanas, even as the Banshee Queen drew her bow.

"Down…" she intoned coldly, firing an arrow over their collective heads at a swooping gargoyle.

The moment was broken, even as another host of the flying horrors descended on them, and Nobu'tan spun, teleporting a short range away and unleashing a torrent of Fel fire from the deck of the ship. The sizzling bolts flew in all directions, striking many of the flying stone creatures and sending them falling to the ground far below. Jaina added her torrential frost to the mix, and together the three leaders worked to protect Ogrim's Hammer as they slipped through the battle lines to the rear of the Dark Horde's controlled portion of the battlefield.

"I don't know what madness possessed you to throw your lot with the Forsaken and their tyrant, but you have my thanks Jaina," Nobu'tan said as soon as the skies around them cleared, "but we have a battle to win, and I refuse to put my trust in the other factions to carry their weight anymore. The Dark Horde will rise as defenders of Azeroth, with or without you all."

"You'd be surprised, Warlock," Sylvanas said, pointed downward from the railing. On the ground below, the armies of the Horde, Alliance, and Argent Crusade were already marshalling, marching with all speed toward the gate to reinforce the Dark Horde. "You seem to have inspired them all to do away with their petty games and come to battle."

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Nobu'tan held little in the was of respect for the Banshee Queen, but she was right. The armies of Azeroth had responded, and their own instruments were being lifted up to sound their arrival to battle. "I will go meet them, and lead the charge into our lines. The Lich King will meet his end, I swear it."

"Now if I get there first," Sylvanas said, her voice curiously lacking the venom that Nobu'tan would have expected from her.

Merely nodding his acceptance of her challenge, Nobu'tan leaned over the side, allowing his body to freefall toward the approaching armies, and opening his wings to catch the air in time to land softly in their path.

At the head of the united armies were Hellscream, haughty as ever, Tirion Fordring, who seemed to be the buffer to keep the orc in check, and Bolvar Fordragon, leader of the Alliance expedition.

"So you decided at last to face your true enemy, and stop playing at who will fight where…" Nobu'tan said, watching them all as the leaders halted.

"It was required, now that you've tipped our hand to the Lich King," Tirion said, although there was no hatred in his voice. If anything, Nobu'tan sensed that the Paladin was glad for the end of the infighting.

"The Horde would lose all honor if we allowed you rebels to do all our fighting for us," Hellscream sneered, but his anger paled in comparison to what Nobu'tan expected.

"Don't tell me the Son of Grom has started to feel an ounce of respect that we went to battle before you?" he jabbed innocently, which certain raised the hackles of the young orc.

"We don't have time for this," Bolvar said, "let us pass, and let us all be done with this threat."

"Onward then," Nobu'tan requested, summoning his own Dreadsteed and leading the way, accelerating the pace of their army so that they would arrive before the Scourge had a chance to push his army back through the Desolation Gate.

Spurring ahead of them all, and magnifying his voice to be heard by all his family, Nobu'tan bellowed his commands, "Arise sons and daughters of the Dark Horde! The hour of our enemy's destruction is upon us! For death and glory! For blood and honor! Lok'tar Ogar! Victory or Death! For Azeroth!"

The roar of sound that greeted him, rushing through their midst, was thunderous. Ogres leapt ahead of his steed, bodily hammering into the first wave of Scourge that was trying to press through the gate, even as some orc threw a banner to Nobu'tan. He seized the pole and allowed the shattered skull banner of the Lichbane Assault fly in the wind.

The assembled army surged after him, pressing through the gate and opening it wide for them all to charge into the waiting arms of the Scourge war machine. However, none of them feared death, buoyed up on their primal rage and the love of their world.

Drake riders swooped low, scattering the front ranks of their enemies, allowing the Dark Horde to take command of the field around the gate swiftly, soon to be supported by the Horde, Alliance, and Argent Crusade.

"Press forward, and smash their broken bodies upon the next gate!" Nobu'tan bellowed, even as his army ran ahead, eager to finally unleash themselves against their foes.

"Lord Nobu'tan!" Blaise shouted, appearing in a flash of Fel alongside an assembly of Felblood Elves. "More fighters are spilling down from the northeast; they fly the banner of the Scarlet Crusade."

"Swing our armies wide, and absorb them into our ranks," he ordered, "If they would fight us here and now, then destroy them, otherwise we welcome all who fight against death itself!"

Kicking his Dreadsteed to gallop again, Nobu'tan went toward the front lines, eager to provide what moral support and Fel power he could. His family was all assembled, and he would not tolerate even one of them to fall without giving his all to protect them!

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Sirius ran with the Clan of Light-infused orcs, call the Dawn's Hammer, as they chased after his godson on his demonic horse.

The efficiency in how the young man spurred his entire army into a fighting rage, and turned them loose on the undead Scourge, was nothing short of inspiring. That so many, of different persuasions and backgrounds would rally to his banner, it spoke of how alike the boy was to James in Sirius' mind.

Behind their spearhead, Horde and Alliance forces followed quickly in their wake, adding their own battle cries to the resounding roar of 'Lok'tar Ogar' that the Dark Horde was chanting in their fury.

"For the Light!" shouted Bannok, on Sirius' left, slamming his holy-empowered axe into the body of a leaping ghoul.

For every undead they slew, two more appeared to take their place, but steadily the Dawn's Hammer were gaining ground, catching up to the tip of the spear-thrust, and Nobu'tan.

Flares of Light-based magic were coming down from the nearby mountains, where Sirius sensed other paladins and priests joining the fray, but something was wrong with the taste of the magic. The Light was angry from their lines, demanding vengeance and burning for wrongs committed, and as they neared Sirius could tell that their army demanded blood from anyone they crossed.

"The Scarlet Crusade," one of the Dawn's Hammer shouted, and they recoiled as the other Light-wielders slammed into their own lines, mostly getting impaled on the row of spears and pikes that the soldiers of the Stormreavers. But the fact that this new army was fighting anyone, like a wild beast, was not something that would sit well, and Sirius felt something hidden, a covered animosity for Nobu'tan specifically.

"I need to reach Nobu'tan, Assassins are coming for him," he declared, and the Dawn's Hammer reacted, Light flaring around them like wings as they charged forward, clearing a path to the front and burning the undead on all sides with their wrath.

What the threat was, Sirius couldn't be sure, but he felt strongly that hidden in that Scarlet Crusade army was someone, or something, with pure hatred for the warlock solely, and whatever or whomever they were, they were using the attacking army as cover to reach his godson.

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Nobu'tan wasn't surprised to find that the Scarlet Crusade were fighting any and all in their path, and watched momentarily as they threw themselves upon their weapons, before focusing his attention on the Scourge threat. The great thrust of their joined armies were pushing the Scourge back, shattering any attempt for the undead to take back the Desolation Gate, and indeed pushing them back toward the final barrier to the Citadel itself.

Holding the Banner of the Lichbane Assault high for all to see, he rallied his army to push forward once more, when he sensed the flare of magic directed toward him personally. Reacting instinctively, a shield of Fel power erupted around him, even as the Light magic splashed off of it.

Turning to look back at the Scarlet Crusade army, Nobu'tan glowered as he spotted their forces parting, and a familiar figure striding through them. The face was not recognizable, but the magic was very familiar.

"So the traitor returns," he said coldly, knowing Theodore Nott when he sensed their former prisoner. "I had wondered where you and Banehollow had run off to when you made your cowardly escape from our hospitality."

The barb found its mark, Nott still very easy to provoke, but the man cooled himself quickly, even as he brandished the weapon in his hand at Nobu'tan. The staff was curious indeed, radiating Light and Shadow magic in droves, as though feeding off the death around them to empower itself.

"You will not stop me this time," Nott threatened, glaring daggers into Nobu'tan, "When I destroy you, I will lead the Dark Horde, and make it greater and more terrible than you have the gall to even dream of."

Passing the banner to a nearby squire, and dismounting in one smooth motion, Nobu'tan drew forth the Scepter he had claimed from Kil'jaeden, squaring off against the former member of the Black Harvest. "And I say to you, traitor, that you will fail, and I will mourn your loss as one of my own." Nobu'tan replied.

There was a pregnant pause between them, even as the battle raged between their forces, and then Nott struck, a torrent of Light spraying liberally from the staff at Nobu'tan. Fel shields sprang into place to absorb and negate the magic, but the curiosity itself was how Nott, as a former warlock, was so readily able to wield the Light in such a manner.

Nobu'tan had studied how the Light functioned, and while those among the Dawn's Hammer had proven the exception, largely those who had fed upon the Fel for a long as the warlocks of the Dark Horde had, the Light would ignore all calls upon it by them. For Nott to effortlessly command its devotion spoke of some secret knowledge, or hidden technique that even Nobu'tan had not discovered in his long studies, and that made it significantly less desirable for the Grand Warlock to simple kill the traitor.

But it was clear that Nott had no such intentions to come quietly again. Some madness drove him, likely spurred by the Nathrezim and their cruel whispers, that coaxed the former warlock to such a devotion to their cause. He was willing to die in order to claim some lie of power from Nobu'tan, and he had to accept that one of his own, his family brought from a distant world, would have to die by his own hand.

Even as he traded spells with his former friend, Nobu'tan swore a vendetta against all Dreadlords. Their kind, much like the Old Gods, had placed themselves in direct opposition with him and his people, and they would know the wrath of Nobu'tan, Vengeance Incarnate.

Rifts of Fel magic tore open at Nobu'tan's command, spilling forth wild demons, Fel magic, and pure chaos in abundant fury, blasting not only Nott and his hastily raised defenses, but the force of crusaders that fought at his side, their single-minded devotion being their undoing as they faced against the power of the Legion that Nobu'tan commanded.

"Lord Nobu'tan, we stand with you!" voices called, and sparring a moment to glance, Nobu'tan saw both the Felblood Elves preparing their own attack against Nott, as well as the Dawn's Hammer pushing their way to reach him.

"Lead my armies onward," he ordered, "We need to destroy the Lich King. I will deal with this traitor and his entourage."

They did not seem willing to obey, but the tide of his forces slowly pushed them along, leaving Nobu'tan alone to prevent the Crusaders and Nott from interfering any further with their battle.

"If you set yourself against me and mine, you will live only long enough to regret it," Nobu'tan declared, allowing how own mastery of the Fel to flood through the scepter in his hand, preparing to strike them all down in one sizable blast of power.