having my schedule break down because of certain lockdown inducing pandemics is wreaking havoc on my ability to remember posting... nevertheless, the chapter is here! R&R, and enjoy!

Chapter 104

The Battle for the Dark Portal

Thrall shuddered as he felt the ripple of Fel energy spread across the world.

After crushing the rest of those holdouts in Thunderaxe Fortress, the Horde forces had separated from the Night Elves, and returned to Thunder Bluff to celebrate their victory. But for the Warchief, all thoughts of celebration ended once he sensed the vile magic on such a scale vibrating through the air.

He stood, and many of the shaman and other casters turned toward the east, where the magic originated. "So it was all a distraction…" Thrall mused, thinking of only a handful of powerful warlocks that could cause such a pulse of magic. And all of them were members or allies of the Dark Horde.

"We need to return to Orgrimmar with all speed, and rendezvous with those forces returning from Tirisfal Glades…" he stated, abandoning the feast before him, and turning to Carine. The High Chieftain looked about at those sensitive to magic, and understood that something important had happened, and rose as well.

"There is no rest for those who seek for peace and safety," the wise Tauren said. "And the Tauren will be marching with you to whatever end this might be. No more will we sit at the sidelines of the Horde's expeditions. For Honor and for the Horde!" Cairne shouted, echoed by the Tauren warriors and heroes of all races.

Even as all the warriors surged to their feet and made preparations to journey back to the capital of the Horde, Thrall lost himself in thought. What could the warlock leader of the Dark Horde be planning?

From the size of the surge of power, it had to be something major, and Thrall could think of a few possibilities. The devastating magic of Archimonde the Defiler or some being of that scale was off the table, as there was a darker taint in the magic Thrall remembered on the slope of Hyjal than this. However, judging from where the power may have originated, there were several powerful structures and objects that may be similar to what he was sensing.

"Warchief!" a voice called, and the warriors parted to permit a Blood Elf Magister, "Warchief Thrall, I have news from the Eastern Kingdoms!"

"Speak," Thrall said, eager to hear what the source of the Fel magic could possibly be.

"It's not good…" the elf said, "The Dark Portal has reopened."

Thrall froze, having hardly suspected such a thing to have happened. It made sense, however, that the demons would want to reopen the old means of entering Azeroth, and try once again to invade their world from the Blasted Lands.

"Damn them," Thrall cursed, thinking of the Stormreavers and their leader, Nobu'tan.

What did they want, opening the portal back to Outland? Thrall chided himself, there would be more than a few reasons for opening the portal back to the orcish home world. If they got to the rest of the orcish clans before they learned the truth, the ranks of the Dark Horde might be swelled to two or three times the size of either the Horde or the Alliance.

That threat alone spurred him to move his feet, starting toward the magister, "I need a portal to Orgrimmar, now!" he commanded, and the Magister did not hesitate to obey, channeling the Arcane to tear open a small hole in space to the Horde capital.

Swiftly leaping through, Thrall found himself in the center of the Cleft of Shadow. The guards took note of his arrival, and gathered around him protectively. "Warchief, what are your orders?" the nearest one asked.

Waving them off, Thrall turned and looked as Cairne and the Magister stepped through after him. "We need to intercept Saurfang and the army returning from the northern part of the Eastern Kingdoms."

"Running your armies ragged will do little for moral and their effectiveness," Cairne said, and Thrall nodded, already having anticipated this, "We only need Saurfang. Then we depart for Stranglethorn Vale. There is an army waiting there for the word to move on the Dark Horde. We will push to the Blasted Lands and confront them at the Portal directly."

Cairne nodded, "A fresh division kept in reserve for the right time… an excellent strategy."

"Which gives the rest of your armies time to rest and regain their strength…" the Blood Elf commented, although Thrall wasn't certain if the awe in his voice wasn't just in regards to the fact that a non-elf came to such a strategic plan.

"Let's move," Thrall said, starting toward the exited of the Cleft, heading for the Drag. He paused however, when orcs appeared from the various tents and huts that ran around the edge of Cleft of Shadows.

"Warchief," one of the older orcs said, approaching. Thrall knew of this orc, Craven Drok, one of the warlocks that had been permitted to live and work his foul magic in Orgrimmar. He also was trusted as loyal according to the spies that Thrall had constantly watching the cleft for any activity of the Legion.

"Speak, warlock." Thrall said, hoping to hurry the conversation so that he could return to the task at hand.

"There are many here, warlocks of the old clans, who wish to fight at your side." Craven said, growing bolder, "The Legion comes, we have sensed it, and the Great Portal to our old home opens once more. Let us come to your aid, and banish these demons back to the Nether."

Thrall was surprised. Looking around slowly, he spotted dozens of warlocks, old and young, all staring at him with the same hopes of a future that he and the Frostwolves had desired when they first rejoined the Horde and fought to liberate their people from the internment camps.

"I admit I cannot deny your desire, warlocks of the Horde," Thrall said, feeling humbled that even these workers of dark magic would be truly loyal in their hearts. "We march on the Blasted Lands, and your magic will be most welcome to fight against the Legion directly."

He would allow them to come, and see the Dark Horde with their own eyes. Thrall knew that many might be tempted by the power of the Stormreaver Clan, but it would galvanize those who were true allies, and those who were less than that.

Amid the cheers of the many warlocks, Thrall, Cairne, and the Magister of the Blood Elves started once more toward the gates of Orgrimmar. By the time they reached it, there was a large gathering of warlocks in their wake, bold and ready for battle to protect the world that they all shared.

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Varimathras could tell that the Dark Portal had been opened once more.

The Fel energy was very enticing to the demon, but he resisted the urge to take flight and escape the forced imprisonment here in the Undercity. There was too much at stake, with both his own life and the plans he had been working toward to up and leave, no matter how much Varimathras wanted to be away from the smell of rotting corpses and the death of Lordaeron.

Still, he labored on, and plotted in the shadows, even as Sylvanas went about her same machinations and preparations. The defeat of Kel'Thuzad and the dread fortress Naxxramus did little to stem the tide of her paranoia against the Lich King. If anything, it had been intensified.

The Forsaken were hard at work creating new and more potent weapons to use against all forms of life and undeath, harnessing the very plague that had turned them into the living dead and modifying it to use against their Scourge enemies.

Varimathras felt no need to hinder or sabotage them. He had other ideas at work for the right moment of their supposed triumph. The appearance of a blazing eye of the Legion however, distracted the Dreadlord from his work, and quietly he absorbed the Fel magic and therefore the message that was being sent to him.

It was… intriguing. Lord Banehollow, another Nathrezim that had disappeared into the wilds of Felwood, among the remnants of the Shadow Council, was making contact with him specifically, from within the heart of the Dark Horde's fortress of Blackrock Mountain.

Apparently he had moved from his position after the Dark Horde had slaughtered the Shadow Council, and put himself close to their only base in Kalimdor, manipulating the leader of the small garrison to a perfect tool of the Legion. The foolish mortal had blundered, naturally, and ended up with both himself and Banehollow captured by the Stormreavers and their human masters.

Varimathras couldn't be more pleased with the outcome. For the Forsaken to have a member of the Legion within them was one thing, but the Dark Horde as well. Together, he and Banehollow would be able to spur the two factions against each other with impunity, pitting their mutual mortal enemies against each other.

Conjuring a similar orb of Fel energy, comprising a message to his fellow Nathrezim, Varimathras sent back his orders, for Banehollow to pledge himself to the Dark Horde, and in the process of furthering their aims slowly work towards undermining their plans and keeping Varimathras apprised of all their movements.

The demon had to repress the urge to smirk sadistically for the remainder of his time working and lingering in the Royal Quarter of the Undercity, lest Sylvanas or someone of importance took note and called him about his cheery mood.

It would take time to come fully into fruition, but Varimathras would reclaim the power over Lordaeron that he, Detheroc, and Balnazzar had retained before Arthas, and later the Banshee Queen came and upset the powerbase that they had commanded.

Vengence would be ever so sweet, he thought bitterly, watching the Dark Lady as she interacted with the vile undead and their Horde allies. Varimathras would be the instrument in tearing apart everything that Sylvanas Windrunner had hoped to build for her group of renegades from the Scourge.

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Nobu'tan overlooked the valley of the Dark Portal, tallying in his mind the numbers of demons that were flowing freely through it. Lord Kazzak was long gone, having retreated to Outland no doubt for some reward or to take more power in the Fel devastated world.

In his place, one of the massive doomguard had been left in charge. Nobu'tan recognized the being as one of those that had looked unfavorably upon the Stormreavers when they first appeared on Azeroth after his long absence. No doubt that this demon would gleefully fight even them, despite the supposed loyalty that the Stormreavers had for the Legion.

Quickly checking the time with his wizard's wand, Nobu'tan nodded, "It's time," he said to Teg'Ramm, who nodded.

Nobu'tan had elaborated upon his plan at length as they had marched. Between his warlocks and Jaina Proudmoore, they ought to be able to summon a large enough host of all three factions of the Azeroth races together to fight against the Legion as quickly as possible. From this position, on the rises just past the former Dreadmaul ogre mounds, they had good sight of the Portal and all that was going on, but little space to actually start the summoning.

Leaving the majority of the Balefire warriors, hunters, and shaman there to keep watch, Nobu'tan took Teg'Ramm and the rest of the warlocks back up the western ridge of the Blasted Lands, to where he had discovered a fully functional Altar of Storms, run formerly by Shadow Council warlocks. The ogres had slain these warlocks long ago under his orders, and now the altar served the Dark Horde for various purposes. From there their power would be strong and able to reach well across the oceans if needed to bring armies across to face off against the Legion.

"I will start to search for Lady Proudmoore and summon the Alliance," he said, as he took the head point of a massive summoning rune that had been prepared by the warlocks and mages sent ahead to the altar, "you all focus on bringing our own forces from Blackrock and Arathi. Everything we can spare ought to be used in this assault."

"As you command, Master," Teg'Ramm stated, even as he and the other warlocks began channeling their power.

Focusing inward, Nobu'tan sent out a fleet of Eyes of Kil'rogg, all homing in on the trinket he had gifted to the Sorceress of Theramore. Hopefully she had found the Alliance army swiftly, and was ready for Nobu'tan to transport them all to the front lines of this battle. Likely they would have preferred to appear at Nethergarde, but it was not possible for Nobu'tan to just walk in with his warlocks and perform their ritual amid all the Alliance mages.

Onward to the north his eyes flew, seeking the Sorceress, and eventually homing in on her location in the icy mountains of Kaz Modan. "So, they made it as far as the dwarven capital…" Nobu'tan commented as the eyes darted down to enter the mountain of the dwarves.

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Varian was preparing to lead his forces into the Deeprun Tram when someone called his name.

The Alliance army was exhausted from fighting at the Plaguelands, and the long march back to the south and Stormwind. Those factions with far closer cities and more powerful magics for transportation might have already returned home, but the Alliance lacked both these options, and had to make the long trek on foot. Many messengers and horsemen had been sent ahead, but by and large Varian had taken his time, making sure that his men knew that he understood the sacrifices that they made to defend their people.

But the sight of Jaina Proudmoore in the center of Ironforge was a sore sight to bear, even for him. "Lady Jaina, what brings you here?" he asked, keeping his respect for the Sorceress at the forefront, and hiding his own personal tiredness.

"The Dark Portal has opened again…" she said without preamble, sending a ripple of fearful muttering through the ranks. "Nobu'tan of the Dark Horde is already preparing the way for our armies to march against the demons."

Varian sighed, "First the dead, then the demons while we are still recovering… Lady Jaina, my men are tired, and we've marched long and hard just to return this far. Now at the last leg you come to tell them that another threat to their homes is on the rise, and they cannot return to their families, but have to risk their lives once again for the fate of everything?"

The young woman understood what was said, but the fire in her eyes would not be dimmed, "So you will leave the defense of our world to Nobu'tan and the Dark Horde?" she asked, only a small amount of accusation in her voice.

"No, I would not," Varian replied, "but I cannot demand any more of my men then they are willing to give."

"Your Majesty," another voice said, unfamiliar to Varian. The King of Stormwind turned to see one of the rank and file footmen standing before him. The man was clearly intimidated by his own boldness to address his king directly. "I-I will fight." He declared, looking at Vairan full in the face, tears forming in the young man's eyes.

Varian's heart twanged heavily at the conviction in the man's eyes. The brave footman inspired those around him, who stepped forward as well, "As will we!"

"And us!" another group of knights said, turning from their mounts.

"For Stormwind! For the Alliance!" the rest rang, the warcry becoming their chant as they pressed forward.

"You sons of Stormwind," Varian said, moved to tears himself at the courage and strength of his people, "We will fight once again, to save our families, and return home triumphant!" he declared.

"An' ye won't be fightin' alone!" bellowed another voice. All the humans turned to see Magni Bronzebeard, King of Ironforge, descending from the High Seat with his vanguard of elite warriors. "What's all this news 'bout a fight brewin'?"

"Magni…" Varian said, smirking at the boisterous amount of noise the Dwarven King was making. "We would be honored for your people to fight alongside us against the Legion at the Dark Portal.

"Och, that blasted thin' again?!" Magni said, growing stern, "We wouldn't miss it for anythin'!"

"Dwarves o' Ironforge, hear you're King!" Magni shouted, his voice booming through the underground halls of the mountain. "Long has our peace reigned, even with the return o' our cousins o' Blackrock Mountain! Now the time has come to march to war once more! Our enemies will feel the fury of the mountains, even as the hammer falls upon them!"

"For Khaz'Modan!" the warcry of the dwarves boomed through the mountain, even as legions of dwarves, both Bronzebeard and Dark Iron, appeared.

A surge of power shot through the mountain, manifesting itself around Lady Proudmoore, and she nodded, "I have found them," Varian heard her whisper, before the Lady of Theramore turned to both he and Magni, "Gather all your forces. The means of our transport to the Blasted Lands will come soon."

"We'll give those demons a good hammering!" Magni said, eager for battle, even as armored dwarves started to appear from every direction, sprinting toward them to form ranks before their king.

Turning to Jaina, Varian whispered, "We should send messages to our allies in Kalimdor, the Night Elves. They will be most wroth to be left out of fighting the Legion."

"I will go as soon as the portal is opened. Do not attack Nobu'tan or his forces, they are helping me coordinate this unified conflict." Jaina replied, even as vile Fel magic started to blossom to life there in Ironforge.

"Do not even think for a moment, that you're going anywhere without us!" another voice boomed over the din of marshalling dwarves. Varian felt an outpouring of love for the loyalty of the members of the Alliance.

The high-pitched voice of Gelbin Mekkatorque sailed over the heads of those taller than the leader of the gnomes. Behind him, already prepared and loaded to the teeth with strange mechanical equipment was a large battalion of his people.

"You are most welcome among us, as always Gelbin. The ingenuity of the Gnomes has become one of the most important parts of the Alliance war machine." Varian said, even as Magni chuckled.

The Fel magic consolidated and transformed into a full functional portal, and beyond Varian could see the red, cracked lands of the Blasted Lands. Nobu'tan was there, disguised as the human Tobias Banu once more, channeling Fel power to maintain the portal.

"Allaince!" Jaina called, and every member of Stormwind, Ironforge and Gnomregon stood straighter, "Forward!"

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Thrall gazed across the entrance to the Blasted Lands. They had made all haste to reach Stranglethorn, and the garrison that had been stationed there, before sweeping upward through Duskwood and the Swamps of Sorrow. The Alliance villages there were nervous, but Thrall sent messengers ahead to explain the situation, and no conflict had come of their passing.

But now, with the Fel heavy in the air, Thrall knew that something dire was afoot in this place. "Onward!" he shouted, calling the Horde force to move, even as they directed themselves toward the location of the portal. Thrall had only seem the hollow shell of the Dark Portal once before, as he specifically came to gaze upon the dark origin of his people on this world.

Now, the look of the crater and the edifice was unrecognizable from what he had seen before. The flood of demons pouring from the glowering green portal proved that the Legion had succeeded in dominating the region on this and the far side of the portal. "So this is the evil that Nobu'tan was preparing behind the scenes…" Thrall said quietly.

"I do resent that, Warchief…" replied another voice.

Thrall spun, along with his Kro'kon guard, even as Nobu'tan appeared among them in his orcish form. "I swear by all honor that exists in our mutual background that I had nothing to do with opening the Portal, although I was aware that the Legion was making some attempt to the effect."

"And we should trust what you have to say for what cause?" Thrall said, holding a hand to stay his guards. There would be a bloodbath if anyone other than himself engaged the warlock.

"How about that," Nobu'tan said, pointing to the far ridge of the crater. Thrall looked, and widened his eyes as a combined Dark Horde and Alliance army charged down into the ranks of the demons. "I have been gathering what allies I could rely upon once I learned that this happened. Lady Proudmoore sought me to bring King Varian and the Alliance armies to bear, and we are continuing to summon forth more of their allies from Kalimdor." Nobu'tan explained.

"Upon learning from my spies and scouts of your approach, I wanted to make sure you had all the soldiers you desired. We will gladly open portals to wherever you wish for more reinforcements." The warlock offered.

Looking at Cairne, Thrall wondered what he ought to do. The Alliance seemed to trust him, even Jaina, but the fact that Nobu'tan was upholding the mantle of the warlock Gul'dan made every orc in Thrall's Horde nervous.

"I sense that he speaks the truth, young Warchief. There is nothing that he has to gain by summoning enemies of the demons here," Cairne said, the old bull shaking his head slightly.

"I do believe we have not been introduced," Nobu'tan said, "but I feel that I have much to apologize for in regards to you and your people, noble Tauren." The warlock knelt, surprising Thrall with the humility and sincerity that joined his words, "my underling in Kalimdor was subverted by the manipulative words of a Dreadlord, and both are now in my custody, awaiting their punishments. I know that lives cannot be restored, and the damage to your city will be rebuilt far before I can do or say anything regarding it, but I owe you a debt over this heinous act. Name your price and I will pay it."

Thrall was shocked, and Cairne actually laughed. "You misjudge this one Thrall," the High Chieftain said, "he reminds me strongly of you when we first met. Darker perhaps, but that strong vein of honor runs very deep in him. Rise, young warlock, I forgive you and your people for the actions of one, if what you say is true."

"I thank you for mercy that we do not deserve." Nobu'tan said, "Where may we send portals to draw more reinforcements?" he added, glancing at the blossoming battle.

"Silvermoon, the Undercity, and Light's Hope Chapel would be the best bets," Thrall said absently, "Cairne, will you rally the Horde warriors in those locations, while I lead our current forces into battle."

"As you command, Warchief." The old bull said.

Thrall turned toward the ensuing conflict in the crater. "Lok'tar Ogar! For the Horde!" he roared, echoed by his warriors, "be bathed in the strength of the earth! Forward to battle!"

The Horde charged, catching the defending demons in a pincer between the Alliance and Dark Horde assault on their western side.

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Nobu'tan watched the shaman Warchief lead his people into the fray, and turned his attention to the wise, ancient Taruen. "Silvermoon first, then," he said, tapping into his Fel power, and wrenching a rift to the elven kingdom far to the north.

He and the Tauren lept through into the sunlit woods of Eversong. "Come, there is little time," the Tauren said, leading the way to the gates of the city. The guards snapped to attention, clearly unaccustomed to their recent union with the Horde still.

"I am Cairne, chieftain of the Bloodhoof Tauren of the Horde. We are here to speak with Lor'themar, your regent."

The elves glanced at each other for a moment, before parting and permitting them entry.

Nobu'tan had never seen the architecture of the elves up close before, and he was thoroughly impressed with the liberal use of magic in everything. It reminded him heavily of the sensation of the Wizarding World on earth, but with a greater flair for elegance and design over function.

The winding streets led past a pair of markets and up toward the massive palace of the sun. the heavily guarded building was grand in design and Nobu'tan found it significantly more appealing than any structure on Azeroth or Earth that he had ever seen. The rows of guards saluted to Cairne as they passed, and within the leaders of the Blood Elves waited.

"I am Lor'themar Theron, I do not believe we've had the pleasure of meeting as of yet," he said to the Tauren, who exchanged pleasantries well enough. The one eye of the Regent Lord swept over Nobu'tan, and he frowned, "I hope there is a good reason that you bring one of Quel'thalas' enemies into our city."

"A means of transportation, nothing more," Nobu'tan said glibly, "The Horde requires reinforcements at the Dark Portal, and my skills were of use for all."

The Blood Elf narrowed his eyes, clearly untrusting of Nobu'tan, but the Tauren merely chuckled. "He speaks the truth. After we see your forces through to the front, we go to the Undercity for Sylvanas and her Forsaken."

The regent of Silvermoon scratched his chin, contemplating the risks of trusting them over the likelihood of them speaking the truth, and seemed to come to a conclusion, "Take Lady Liadrin and her Blood Knights, most of my other forces are exhausted from fighting the Scourge, but we will send those who still have strength to spare."

"That is the most that we could ask of you," Cairne replied, hunching into a short bow, and Nobu'tan followed the old bull's lead. Within moments a messenger was sent for the aforementioned forces, and they were assembled before the palace of the sun.

Once again, Nobu'tan opened a portal to the Blasted Lands, permitting the Blood Elves to see the fullness of the battle as it embroiled in the Portal Crater. In the time that they had departed, the combined forces of Azeroth had managed to halt the Legion's advance, but still more demons poured from the portal.

Lady Liadrin, the Light coursing through her at the sight of the demons, drew her sword, "Blood Knights, attack formation!" she cried. The ranks of red and black clad elves snapped to attention, weapons ready and grimness in their faces.

"Charge!" Liadrin shouted, snapping the reins of her hawkstrider, and launching into motion, even as her followers moved swiftly in her wake, crossing the portal and onto the battlefield directly. "Anar'alah belore!" Nobu'tan heard the cry as they army faded into the midst of the carnage."

"We will take our leave, then," Cairne said, nodding to Lor'themar and stepping through the portal as well, Nobu'tan quickly following.

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Tyrande unleashed another shot from her bow, even as the Sentinels pressed forward through the ranks of their short term allies.

To see the Fel portal rip open into the heart of Darnassius was quite a stir among the Night Elves, but for Jaina Proudmoore to once more call for their aid to fight, citing that the Burning Legion had reopened the Dark Portal of the Eastern Kingdoms was a shock that none of them had expected.

The Kaldorei would not wait for the fight to come to them again, as they had during the time of what had become known as the Third War, and many eagerly volunteered to follow the High Priestess of Elune into battle. The army they had gathered was larger by far than that they assaulted Desolace with, and with their new allies, the Draenei, in tow, they marched upon the Blasted Lands through the Dark Horde's magical portals.

It was strange for Tyrande to find a race of beings as old, or older, than her people, but the Draenei were wise and compassionate, and battle-hardened enough to stand on their own after a minor amount of assistance. Blood Elves had been found on their isles, trying to find ways to attack Teldrassil and the other major settlements of Azeroth, all in the name of their wicked Prince.

Tyrande remembered the arrogance of the Sunstriders well. They had been the leaders of the noble born that had been banished across the sea after the War of the Ancients. It was clear that their obsession with magic had not gone unhindered, but rather manifested itself into deep addictions, which turned them into feral beasts when denied it. Additionally, they siphoned off the magic of those around them, forcing those that had been captured to be locked in magically binding cells, which had proven fatal to them.

Still, there was no time for such grievances with the Legion on the field, even when Tyrande noticed Blood Elves flying the symbol of the horde entering the field, wielding the power of the Light and striking demons on every side with their vengeful magic.

The true test lay ahead yet, as the towering Doomguard stood protecting the portal itself. Tyrande remembered this foe from the War of the Ancients: Highlord Kruul, the chief lieutenant of Lord Kazzak and high in the ranking of the powerful assault soldiers of the Legion.

"Onward warriors, press the attack!" she shouted, encouraging those Night Elves among the warriors of the Alliance, and allowing the power of Elune to wash over them all.

The Mother Goddess was the purveyor of peace, but she was no pacifist. With a roar from Ash'alah, she leapt forward, leading the way for those archers and glaive-throwers on foot to follow in her wake.

Bolts of moonlight soared from her bow, striking the Fel demons with all the vengeance that the Mother Moon would grant her chosen High Priestess. Infernal meteorites started to rain from the sky, and while many were shot with various ranged weapons and spells, still more crashed heavily nito the red and cracked landscape of the Portal Crater, rising up bathed in the green flames of their making.

The Draenei warriors sent by the Prophet Velen charged ahead, their own wrath manifesting in the Light as their Paladins countered the next wave of demons.

Kruul took notice of their approach from all sides, and smirked in a grisly way that showed all of the demon's fangs.

"How utterly predictable, you mortals lack foresight to know when you are thoroughly outnumbered and outmatched. Azeroth has cowered too long under our shadow! Now, feel the power of the Burning Crusade, and despair!"

In spite of the demon's taunts, Tyrande felt nothing close to fear. Glancing to each of her sides, she realized with a small shock that every race of the three factions was united as one in this battle. Orc, Tauren, Darkspear, and even the Forsaken of the Horde, arriving from a newly created portal to the ruins of Lordaeron, now joined with the Sindorei. On the other side, the Dark Horde with their orcs, Amani, ogres, and strangely enough, centaurs, challenged and pushed back the westernmost flank. And dead center was her Kaldorei, allied with the humans, dwarves, gnomes, and Draenei of the Alliance.

Azeroth, old and new members, was united against this threat. A greater union had never been seen before, not even during the battle of Mount Hyjal. Varian Wrynn, Thrall, and Nobu'tan all stepped forward before their individual ranks, rallying the forces of Horde, Alliance, and Dark Horde.

"For Azeroth!" they bellowed as one, and the entire army felt the blessings of both shaman and warlock, in addition to the rallying war cry of the warrior-king.

They surged toward the center of the crater, defying the Legion of their dark masters. Highlord Kruul ordered his demons to fight, but they were steadily pushed back toward the Portal, even as magic, sword, and arrow struck them down.

Tyrande could tell that some of their fighters were intentionally targeting those newly emerged from the portal, in order to stop them from joining the melee altogether.

"Mother Moon, grant your daughter the power we need!" she cried, beckoning the fury of the stars down upon those demons rapidly approaching. Streaks of light blazed down from the heavens and crashed into the ranks of offending creatures, knocking them to the ground and opening the way to the Highlord for their forces.

The Doomguard stepped back in shock at their vicious advance, even as more horns of their allies sounded from the rear of the crater, "Argent Dawn, advance!" cried a human voice, and suddenly more humans bearing the standard of a white sun on a field of grey shot through their ranks on horseback.

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Nobu'tan smirked at how effectively the combined forces of Azeroth's chief factions pushed back the Legion attack. He knew he was being watched from afar, likely by Mephistroth or some other high ranking demon, but there was just as much playing that they couldn't see.

This Doomguard stood no chance against all of them combined, as soon they would hold the Portal, and through it the gateway to the orcish home world of Draenor.

Nobu'tan longed to see what had become of the place that Gul'dan had called home for so long, before being lured into the servitude of the Legion. The appearance of the Argent Dawn signaled the end for Kruul, and the Highlord fled like the coward he truly was, retreating into the portal alongside those few of his minions that remained.

"Onward, through the Portal! Claim the other side!" Nobu'tan shouted, signaling the Dark Horde to advance. Horde and Alliance did what they could to keep up, and they stormed through the shimmering gateway, which felt oddly familiar to the countless portals that Nobu'tan himself had created with the Fel.

The portal on the far side was significantly larger and grander than the Azeroth side structure was, and more than capable of seventy soldiers standing shoulder to should across the length of the shimmering expanse.

But that was not what drew the gaze of the Stormreaver Chieftain. The red world stretched out before them, crumbled and ruined. Floating islands hung over what seemed to be an endless chasm into the Nether.

It was nothing like what Nobu'tan imagined, and that disheartened him. Refocusing on the task at hand, however, the warlock turned his gaze down to the fighting between their forces and the demons that were struggling to retain any control on the Portal structure itself.

"Fan out, secure the sides and get mages to open portals to the capital cities," an Elven voice said at his side. Nobu'tan turned to see the Blood Knight Matriarch, Liadrin, gazing over the hordes of demons advancing on the portal with shimmering green eyes.

"To think that they would come so far so quickly, working as one united front," she said solemnly.

"Yes," Nobu'tan agreed, "it is indeed a pity that so much divides our races and factions."

"After this battle, we might go back to fighting, and who would control the Portal from then on, I wonder?" the Paladin said.

"I do not know," Nobu'tan admitted, "but I do not think it is wise to permit only one faction at a time to control the Portal."

"A truce then, for all forces operating here on this location?" the Blood Elf suggested.

"It would be wisest, if we are to spread out and make sure that the Legion cannot attack us here." Nobu'tan added.

"I will speak with the Warchief about making that official," Liadrin said, "so long as you hold your end of the bargain."

Nobu'tan smirked, going to find Lady Proudmoore and share the concept with her for King Varian, even as a Pit Lord mounted the long rise toward the portal and started organizing the Legion counter offensive to retake their position.