Nearly forgot about the chapter in the midst of all the crazy going on during this week. Spring break, streaming, emergency house repair, among other things, but here it is, same day as it ought to be! Thanks to those who review, please continue to carry me through this period where I hope to generate many new ideas. Enjoy! ~F
Chapter 152
East and West
Bellatrix was overjoyed with the amount of trust being placed on her.
Her Lord, under the command of the warlock Potter, had commanded her to infiltrate the undead Scourge, and discover where the mass of their forces were located in the western region known as the Dragonblight.
A portal had been provided in order to save her time and prevent her from ambush before she reached the area where her mission began.
She emerged from the shimmering portal near to the southern coast of that region, looking out across a field of elementals moving around on a shelf of ice. They were of no concern to Bella, however, as she sought only fellow undead, and more specifically some of their living handlers in order to take possession of their bodies.
Bellatrix had taken a special shine to the skill of slipping into and out of the bodies of others, even being able to master latching onto a still living host, and either seize control herself or ride along as a traveler, unseen by even the one possessed by her.
Still, locating a living member of the Scourge would prove difficult, as they were extremely distant from the bastions of the necromancer's that raised them. Bella could easily see the tendrils of death magic that bound them to the will of their Lich King, all flowing northward to Icecrown.
It would be interesting, she mused as she watched forces move in systematic patrols around a nearby ziggurat, what might happen if they severed the ties of control that the Lich King had over his minions. Would they slump to the ground with no will to support them, or lose control and become worse than mindless beasts?
All interesting experiments that ought to be tested in due time, but for the time being Bella had to wait for the right moment to strike at this place, and take a body to slip into the ranks of her enemies. And she didn't have to wait long, as an Acolyte of the Cult of the Damned emerged from the ziggurat in order to relieve himself in the snow.
While she would have preferred a female host, Bellatrix knew better than to be picky at this time, and glided silently over the trees, catching the human man as he released his robes once more. Her victim had no time to even so much as cry out before she had discarded his soul and took complete control of his physical form.
It was always an adjustment, aligning herself to a new body, especially males with their awkward builds and extra appendages that she was not familiar with. Nevertheless, to not arouse suspicion, Bellatrix turned and entered the Scourge outpost, repressing the smirk as she effortlessly bypassed the rotting ghouls that guarded the door for any intruders.
Once inside, Bellatrix was beckoned over by the other acolytes. "We must not keep the master waiting," one of them said, ushering them all to gather around the central platform, where a shimmering image was forming for them all to see.
"Servants of the Cult of the Damned hear the words of your master!" a chilling voice called, echoing around the Ziggurat. Bellatrix was not familiar with the voice, but knowing that a higher up in the Scourge hierarchy was involved meant that this was vital information.
The adorned head of a Lich appeared in the image, the frost and shadow magic wafting off of it even through the projection. "The Lich King is greatly displeased with the loss of the Saronite in the fall of Kolramas, and the encroachment of his enemies on all sides."
Bellatrix was pleased that the damage they had done in Zul Drak had struck a nerve in the higher ups in the Scourge, but she held perfectly still, allowing the information to flow into her as her Lord had instructed her so many years ago. Apparently the Kalimdor Horde and the Alliance were both surging from the eastern and western peninsula's, trying to achieve a pincer on the chief gateway into Icecrown, and there were traps and forces being planned to hedge up the way for each of them.
"Sylvanas must not be allowed to reach Icecrown," the Lich said, "The Lich King has a special punishment in mind for her and her traitors, but together with the rest they particularly will cause too much damage. Naxxramus is positioned in order to block her Forsaken from entering the Dragonblight, and allowing the Horde and Alliance to fall when they arrive at the Wrathgate."
"And what of the Dark Horde coming from the northeast, my Lord?" one of the Acolytes asked, looking almost in tears with adoration for the Lich.
"They will be dealt with…" the Lich replied, sounding if anything irritated, "our Master has factored in their involvement and we in Naxxramus will be dealing with them and the Drakkari simultaneously. They are to be of no more concern for you, focus solely on slowing down the Forsaken."
"As you wish, Master Kel'Thuzad." The lead Acolyte said, shortly before the image disappeared.
"You heard the Master," the man continued, turning to the rest of them, "We must entrench our garrison here and prepare for our enemies to try and pass south of Naxxramus."
The others started murmuring among themselves, figuring out details of how many undead to raise, and what nearby locations to attack in order to push away those who might resist. Bellatrix, on the other hand, started looking for a way to slip off unnoticed so that she could ditch her host and retreat back to the Dark Horde forces with her important information.
Luckily, it seemed that the man she had possessed was the most skilled controller of undead among this group of cultists, and they immediately sent out for her to start bolstering their forces. It was almost too easy as she went out to a secluded spot and exited the body, allowing the now dead necromancer to slump in an undignified heap.
But she was already away, flying swiftly through the air to the northeast, determined to return to her Lord's side and bring the information that she had acquired back to their armies.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Blaise watched as the rune-carved, stone door slid effortlessly into the ground without a single rattle or groan of resistance. The ancient switch had moved effortlessly. Filing away that information for a later time, Blaise forced himself to focus on the immediate matter of the entire new substructure that they had unearthed.
If anything was to be of use to them in these ruins, aside from the location alone, it would be down the large northern passageway under the entire facility.
"Get a base camp established," Bliase advised Zuluhed, "while that is done, we should send a group to explore these underground passages. There is no telling what may emerge if we don't strike first."
The old orc nodded in agreement, seeing the threat that the revealed passage represented. He turned to bark more orders at his warriors and peons, while Blaise continued to watch the interior, just in case something appeared before they were prepared to deal with it.
Blaise knew that he would be needed to venture into the unknown, but Zuluhed was an unknown to him. The old orc was shrewd and cunning, but clearly had the magical attunement to lead in a fight as well. Honestly Blaise didn't know what exactly to make of the one known as 'The Wacked.'
"My elite grunts and casters will attend to us as we descend, while others monitor the peons as they erect a defensive line around the central walls." The Dragonmaw Chieftain said, which told Blaise something of the control that the green skinner orc wished to maintain over his clan.
Not that Blaise wanted to steal the chieftainship from him, he had little desire in the way of official leadership, but he supposed that orcs from the old Horde did not maintain their control without a strict sense of paranoia and an ironclad grip on their clan.
"As you wish," he said, submitting to Zuluhed's plan. So long as they completed Nobu'tan's objective, he was pleased.
The group of around twenty orc warriors took less than an hour to assemble, fully geared and ready to go into the darkness below the fortress. Torches were born into the shadows, which was useful for only a short ways, before sensors registered their presence and with the grinding of ancient technology a glowing light bloomed around the staircase and the passages beyond.
Unfortunately, that was not the only thing that awoke out of the shadows. Golems and elementals rumbled to life, and a pitched battle started just to take the bottom landing. Blaise watched passively for a moment at Zuluhed commanded his clan, wisely ordering smaller group of forces around like a master chess player. Blaise momentarily wondered if the game even existed on this world, but passed the thought by. Tossing out a few spells to hinder their foes, he took quick stock of the various passages.
It seemed that the chamber was part of a long corridor leading into the mountains, with a trio of off-shooting side passages. The elementals were not actively pouring from these tunnels, which was reassuring that what they faced might be limited and Blaise called out to the warriors. "Push forward. Take the chamber and drive them into the ground!"
Soon enough, through coordinated efforts, and a handful of well placed wizarding spells with his wand, the Dark Horde claimed the first chamber of the long corridor, and the junction that split off on both sides. More elementals, golems, and revenants barred the way to what seemed like a massive fire giant on the left path, while the same mirrored to the right, but with a towering being of ice.
"Fire or Frost, which do we feel like trying to eliminate first?" Blaise asked, deferring to Zuluhed once more.
"We should contend with ice, where we have the advantage, before removing the one of flame," the former shaman attested, which served the purposes of Blaise just as well, and he nodded in agreement.
A large portion of the force turned toward the right hand passage, leaving a token group to hold the center for their return.
The defenders down this corridor also seemed to possess power over the frigid cold, and tried to hedge up their way with icy barriers and freeze their forces solid. But the warlocks of the Dark Horde among the split orc and Fel orc clan were equally powerful, and their command of demonic fire was such that they shattered through the frost as quickly as it appeared.
The temperature continued to plummet as the neared the giant, eclipsing even the chill outside in the frozen wastes, and soon they had fires surrounding them just to endure the cold. The giant did not speak, but bellowed a challenge and charged, swinging a massive, frozen fist toward the nearest warrior, who hefted a shield to absorb the crushing strike.
Orbs of frozen magic launched off from the giant as he hammered on the frontline warriors, spreading the chill of ice and hurling bolts of frost in all directions. Blasts of magic from Blaise and the warlocks were turned to slam into these frozen orbs, destroying them as quickly as they appeared.
Everything they could do to keep the temperature from dropping lower had to be done, and every ounce of Felflame was coaxed out of those warlocks with proclivities toward wielding it. Spells flew in all directions, and the wizard directed the worst of what his wand could provide on the giant directly, shattering great chunks of frozen ice from him, searching for a chink in the ice and armor that he wore to try and slip in something that may eat away at the hulking creature.
For what felt like a long time, he could find nothing but chilled armor and stony hide under the ice, until a spunky warlock fired a bolt of chaos, striking the creature near the face and breaking off a massive chunk of ice, revealing the glowing blue eyes, gem-like and focused on the warriors it was trying to pummel.
"Avada Kedavera," he intoned, watching the sickening blast of emerald light leap up to meet the blue orb, shattering it completely and making the giant reel back in pain. It was surprising that the death curse was less than totally effective, but Blaise was partially happy for it.
As useful as the spell was for clearing away a troublesome enemy, it was simply not enough for Blaise to get the rush he needed. He'd prefer to use his daggers or watch his foe wither away under the corrupting effects of his Fel curses, but in this scenario he would take what tools he needed. And if even the dread curse didn't have full effect, that meant that he ought to use it all the more, and work toward ending this fight before they all froze to death on their feet.
Darker curses spewed from the wand next, as well as Fel ones as quickly as Blaise could intone their incantations. Chips and icicles sprayed liberally from the rest of the face of the giant, showering those warriors unfortunate to be beneath him.
However, the other ranged fighters took notice, and started to alter their targets. Soon enough the giant had to pull back, covering his face with one arm to deflect the spells and projectiles flying at it.
"Come on… show me that eye…" Bliase muttered under his breath, fighting the chatter of teeth as he help his wand steady to line up a shot.
Soon, in a momentary lull, the creature started to lower its limb, preparing to return to the attack, and the gleam of the eye appeared behind the stone-like visage.
"There you are…" Blaise muttered, followed by the cursed words. Another bolt of green launched out, detonating the remaining eye and crippling the giant completely.
It staggered sideways, sweeping blindly to try and ward off the resuming bombardment of projectiles. Fel boulders crashed into it at that time, accompanied by bursts of chaos and green flames as the force of the Dark Horde rallied around the blinding of their foe.
Ice sprayed in all directions as it shattered from the entire body, slowly revealing the more vulnerable body beneath, and allowing them to land significant blows to bring the brute down completely.
The icy winds died along with the watcher, leaving the chamber eerily silent. Beyond the body of the massive giant, there was a console that was of the same strange origin as the rest of the facility. Blaise chose not to try and mess with the contraption, but noted it and made a pledge to return and investigate further when they were certain of the safety of this location.
Their force was shivering, from both cold and exhaustion, but they slowly made their way back to the central area and the rest of their forces. Fighting the fire giant seemed a very enjoyable counterpoint to the ice storm they had just endured.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sylvanas gazed lazily across the northern part of Trisfal Glades, even as the Banshee's Wail settled in the hidden port that the Forsaken had created off the cliffs that housed the former Scarlet Monetary. The building had been converted into a powerful fort for the Forsaken and a hidden watch over the northeastern ocean.
Messengers had already been sent ahead to the Undercity to rally more of the Forsaken to reinforce their new base in the Howling Fjord, and join with the Hand of Vengeance at New Agamand.
Meanwhile, Sylvanas would go to the east once more, and see to the finalization of their conquest of Andorhal, and pushing further from the Western to the Eastern Plaguelands. Despite their war with the Lich King being the most important thing to the Forsaken, and Sylvanas personally, but it was important to have a series of backup plans to fall back on should they fail to destroy Arthas and attain their revenge on the cursed unlife they had been inflicted with.
For a long time, Sylvanas had felt that everything she had left in her would be devoted to the last fight against the Death Knight, and if she fell in defeating him, she would be complete, but lately something had begun to change.
A fire had begun in her heart, against the Dark Horde and their encroachment onto what she considered her lands. Even if she were to sacrifice herself, the Forsaken would not stand against the Dark Horde without her to lead them, and she couldn't rightly abandon them to that kind of fate.
She had already sworn that certain leaders of the Dark Horde would die by her hand, and while they were not a threat on the same level as Arthas, she was not willing to let go of those insults against her and her people. Arathi would be theirs again, and more if she could help it.
To that effect, damming the river down to Hillsbrad, securing Andorhal and Scholomance, all of it was in preparation for a longer war to wage southward. Whistling as she passed through the open courtyard formerly of the scarlet library gardens, summoning her personal mount for the skies.
No bat would have been good enough for the Banshee Queen. With the advent of Quel'thalas fully into the Horde, Sylvanas had finally had opportunity to return to her ancient home, Windrunner Spire, where Arthas had killed her before pressing northward to the city itself. There she had recovered her personal dragonhawk, and raised it from the ruin it had been left in as the Scourge has passed through her homeland. Now, Vengence flew down with a baleful screech, awaiting Sylvanas to mount and direct the willful undead in a direction.
She directed her mount eastward, steering toward the isle of Caer Darrow. There was a former necromancer that she needed to visit, as well as view for herself the changes that the Forsaken workers had been working on.
Helcular seemed to have been informed of her arrival, as he was waiting in the main chamber, which had been rebuilt after they had burned the majority of the necromancer tomes that had been stored there.
Curiously, the book she had supplied the necromancer with had been cast aside, and lay on the stone floor in a heap while Helcular poured over some other book. "So," Sylvanas stated coldly, "the tome liberated from Stratholme was not to your liking?"
"Nor yours, Dark Lady, should you want warriors who retain their free will to think and fight on their own," Helcular replied, not tearing his eyes away from the book before him, "However, in trying to find something that could enlighten me on means to alter the spells within, I found this, buried well away from the stacks that you had burned, and protected by so many spells and charms that I doubt anything on Azeroth could damage it."
"And what is it that is so powerfully resilient?" Sylvanas asked, growing curious herself. Helcular had still not so much as turned toward her, intently focused on the book.
"The last remaining spellbook of Medievh, the Guardian… taken from Dalaran by Kel'Thuzad and used to summon the demon lord Archimonde…" Helcular said, stroking the open page as he slowly turned to present the book to the Banshee Queen.
"With this, we could potentially open the way straight into the land where the dead go, and draw their souls back directly to feed into their bodies, forcing them to rise as Forsaken without even risking more Scourge manifesting themselves." He announced proudly.
"And you know how this can be accomplished?" Sylvanas, growing eager in the knowledge he had shared. It was clear that his time with this tome would need to be limited to pursuing that solution alone, if the greed in his eyes was any indication, but a measure of trust could be extended if this was possible.
"I have some ideas, and according to the book, it is possible, but I am lacking in other materials to cross reference and verify these rituals and components." Helcular said, but his passion seemed to flare to life all the more, "But I can assure you, this is the book which inspired the mind of Ner'Zhul into destroying Draenor and creating the Outland, used with constraint and a singular purpose, we can rend the fabric of space and time in order to open a singular portal to the realms of death without too much trouble."
"Weren't there other powerful artifacts needed for the old orc to accomplish that feat?" Sylvanas said, recalling details from far back in the time of the second war.
"Yes, and the trouble with that is locating those other artifacts, or other powerful tools that could substitute for them." Helcular affirmed, "I will commit all my research to finding the method needed for this, if I can get assistants to acquire more information for me to compile."
"That depends on what sort of information you need…" Sylvanas replied.
"Nothing too difficult, I assure you my Queen," Helcular reassured, "tomes from Dalaran, possibly a few from the library of Stornwind's mage tower at the worst… If really desperate, Karazhan Tower will certainly have what remained."
Sylvanas frowned. The first two may have been reasonable, but Karazhan was Dark Horde territory, and would therefore be a stronghold to try and break into. But with the Dark Horde focused like all the others on Northrend, a small group of Dark Rangers may have been able to break in and steal one or two tomes if needed.
"Compile your list, and we'll see what we can do." She said, turning away. It wasn't the quick result that she had wanted, but a clear step in the right direction.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Nobu'tan looked down on the lower tiers of Zul Drak with a critical eye.
His forces, after dealing with the crashed necropolis and routing the unleashed hold of undead had withdrawn to the same tier where the stairs down to their landing point were located. Spreading out a massive battle camp, they prepared to settle in and defend a long term siege. Nobu'tan was ready to fight for every step back through the region toward the Dragonblight, and show to the frost trolls that they were fully committed to aiding them with or without their permission.
Still, watching what they were up against was a certainty that it would be a long counter-siege. The Scourge had two more flying fortresses supporting their assault force, and had already taken the lowest tier of the region. Closer still, there were smatterings of the Argent Crusade, and some other faction of rogue Death Knights, fighting off the horde of undead in the second tier, where the third necropolis had crashed.
"Lord Nobu'tan," a scout called, his wolf pounding through the snow toward him through the raised tents of their encampment, "trolls are mustering nearby and heading toward us. They do not appear to be readying to fight us."
The warlock smiled. This was what he had hoped. Rousing the attention of the Drakkari by aiding them in battle was the vital first step in seeing about bringing them into the Dark Horde fully.
"I will go out and meet them. Balefire and Amani leaders will attend to me for diplomacy and protection. Go gather them, quickly," he ordered, sending the scout flying through thrown up puffs of snow. Turning back toward the highest tier of the troll domain, where the entrance to the city proper lay, Nobu'tan could already see the oncoming envoy.
From what he could guess, the King of the Drakkari had come personally to meet with him, and for that small token of honor he was grateful. From what Voone and the other Amani leaders had told him, the current frost king, Malakk, was brutish and cunning, but not overly intelligent. Prone to bouts of extreme savage anger, he was a greedy and ravenous example of his entire race.
The blue plumage of the feathered helm bobbed as the Frost King moved, lumbering ahead of his forces toward the Dark Horde banners as Nobu'tan went out to meet him. Teg'Ramm and War Master Voone stood on either side of him, waiting patiently.
"They do not seem desirious to fight us directly," Teg said sidelong, even as Ramm continued to watch the approaching force.
"Dey will be tryin' to intimidate us…" Voone said covertly, "Prove dat dey are dominant in dese mountains."
"They can try," Nobu'tan said, mentally preparing himself, "But they will join us in the end, whether they like it or not."
"You!" the Frost King said, once they were within earshot of Nobu'tan and his group, "You be da leader here?" he demanded.
"And if I am?" Nobu'tan shot back, not hostile, but with the same level of passion that he heard in the Ice Troll's voice.
"Den we be needin' some words wit ya!" the king replied, stopping just short of Nobu'tan, and using his impressive height to try and stare down at the warlock, "You be encroachin' on our lands, and interferin' with our battles!"
Nobu'tan was not about to allow himself to be intimidated, nor look up to give the position of power to the Frost King.
Fel wings burst forth in their sinister glory, and flapped once, lifting Nobu'tan so that he was nearly nose to hooked nose with the troll, "Yes, we did. The Dark Horde is the sworn enemy of the Scourge, and marching through this region allowed us the most battle on our way to the Icecrown Citadel!"
The audience of Ice Troll warriors, priests, and hexxers collectively held their breaths, clearly knowing the dire wrath of their king, and the sheer audacity that Nobu'tan was giving back to him by refusing to yield to his supposed authority.
For a long moment, Frost King Malakk was also silent, but not fuming with rage at the resistance that Nobu'tan threw back at him. The troll was sizing up the warlock, even as he hovered before him, not flinching or even blinking as he held the Troll in a battle of will and petty pride.
He spotted the chink in the Warlord's armor moments before the troll threw his head back and roared with laughter. "Dis be the fierceness I be wantin' from my warriors!" he boomed, his entire frame shaking with delighted chuckles. "Alrigh', alrigh', we be fightin' da Scourge alongside ya and ya 'Dark Horde'," he added, wiping away a nearly frozen tear of mirth.
The Frost King turned to share a meaningful glance at the nearest priest of his same tribe, who nodded knowingly. "We may have a chance now," he said, "increase the sacrifices to da Loa, and beg deir knowledge and guidance."
"Yes, my King," the priest said, turning to the rest of his robe-clad brethren and muttering among themselves.
"Your arrival is most fortuitous," Nobu'tan said, turning to catch the runners entering the camp from the direction of the large stairs leading down into the Scourge held terraces, "It seems our enemy is on the move once more."
"Den we best be not keepin' dem waitin'," the Frost King replied, striding forward to join Nobu'tan, and the rest of the Dark Horde chieftains and leaders, around the command table where they had been preparing their push down into the lower terraces.
"What news?" Nobu'tan asked, and Nek'rosh shook his head.
"The Scourge is mustering another attack," he said, "We've held them off well so far, but they are starting to grow wise of our attacks, and are bringing stronger undead and larger weapons to attack from range."
"Then we shall meet them in a way they could not hope to expect," Nobu'tan said, smirking up at the Frost King, "We fight them head on, and push through their battalion toward our own counterstrike."
"My ogres will gladly lead the charge, Lord Nobu'tan," Teg'Ramm stated, even as Aisha Feltalon entered, the graceful Fel Veela sporking a large coat of fur around her feathers for warmth.
"There is something else to be concerned about, my Lord," she said, "They are bringing a massive construct up the central causeway, greater than any abomination we've encountered."
"Then we shall deal with that on our terms," Nobu'tan replied, nodding at his goblin siege engineers, who bolted from the pavilion in order to get their teams in order to start unpacking trebuchets.
"Come, King Malakk, and see what the Dark Horde has to offer outside of sheer strength of arms," Nobu'tan invited, gesturing at the formation that the others had assembled in his absence. He approved of whatever strategy they had come up with, as each leader was more than capable of voicing the strengths and needs of their clans without his constant input.
Indeed, Nobu'tan was starting to see what Lucius had admonished him of so many years prior, back when they had first entered Azeroth from their dying world. Delegation to those he could trust removed the burden greatly from his own shoulders, allowing them all to bear the weight of leading the Dark Horde, more than he solely taking it all upon himself.
The Frost King followed as Nobu'tan climbed a small wooden tower, hastily constructed but sturdy, in order to see far beyond where they had encamped, and witness the approaching Scourge forces in totality.
It was a sight to behold. Ranks upon ranks of the vile undead marched forward, with lumbering masses of flesh wading through hordes of skeletons and ghouls. Gargoyles swarmed like clouds overhead, but move concerning of all was the massive stitched giant that was stomping toward their position.
"Dat be a big one…" King Malakk admitted, clearly wondering if his own forces would have been able to contend with such a being.
"Yes, but that has its weaknesses as well," Nobu'tan countered, even as flares of magical sparks shot into the air across the ridge of the terrace. Their forces were ready and awaiting the signal to attack.
With a snap of his fingers, Nobu'tan released the signal of green sparks into the air, and the snap of their siege engines cracked across the still air.
Boulders, some aflame, as well as magic-containing canisters were launched into the air by the dozens, flying outward over the Scourge army. The damage caused was catastrophic, although the dead seemed to mind little as scores of them were annihilated mere feet from where they marched.
Several of the more powerful canisters crashed into the giant as well, splattering torso and arms with the fiendish Fel Fyre, which started to burn and eat away at the grotesque being. Whether it had any sense of pain left in its head, the creature did not show it, but lumbered onward, even as great patches of blackened flesh were left in the wake of the all-consuming fyre.
Magnifying his voice, Nobu'tan bellowed to his assembled warriors, "Soldiers of the Dark Horde, warriors of the Drakkari, onward to battle! Crush the dead underfoot!"
There was an echoing roar over the pounding of the giant's feet, and the blare of their bagpipes was heard, signaling the charge across their lines. From the smattering of dense trees and protected terraces, warriors from each clan, as well as many Drakkari Trolls, leapt down and surged forward into the lines of the undead, meeting them on their blighted lands rather than waiting at the choke points for them to ascend the stairs.
While normally even Nobu'tan would consider this a terrible strategy, they could not allow those meat wagons-catapults get in range of their position, and then there was the hulking giant to think about. Keeping that away from the upper levels was probably for the best; therefore, pushing the enemy's lines to keep them back was the wiser option.
At Nobu'tan's command, the Blackrock wolf riders pounded forward in pursuit of their initial push, just to secure the field advantage to their forces. The grand warlock joined with the other ranged spell casters in hailing down Fel power on the waves of enemies coming to counter their charge, splitting the undead into two fronts.
Another volley flew from the trebuchets, and a few of the meat wagons were crushed by the flying boulders. More canisters splashed across the advancing giant, but it was still drawing nearer. Nobu'tan couldn't allow that giant to reach the trebuchets, and started heavily drawing on the Fel around him, including siphoning power from the other warlocks around him.
The orb of pure Felflame swelled in front of him, growing rapidly as he fed it raw chaotic power at an alarming rate. With a massive effort, Nobu'tan broke the drain and hurled the orb with every ounce of strength he had in him.
The sphere flew outward, aimed directly at the massive undead construct, and slammed into the heavy chest plate fastened beneath its neck.
The brilliant explosion of Fel power sent shockwaves through the air, and Nobu'tan could feel echoes of it ripple across the leylines of Azeroth. He knew that that would be noticed by all the right, and wrong, people.
Nevertheless, the incendiary blast tore the armor plate off, along with great swaths of flesh from the construct, and sent the massive creature staggering backward, its body in flames as the green Felfire started to feast upon its undead body.
"Now, fire!" Nobu'tan shouted, and the siege weapons fired a third time. Their aim was true, and several more slammed into the charred wound from the massive Fel fireball.
The golem, already heavily wounded, was thrown backward, and fell under the explosive barrage on its now weakened chest, and the great seams that held its form together started to unravel. Great chunks of its body fell in pieces across the battlefield, crushing more of their smallest warriors.
"We have a insurmountable advantage now," Nobu'tan stated, watching even as the entire Scourge attack force started to retreat, many more getting crushed as the Dark Horde and Drakkari warriors raced after them.
"Ha!" King Malakk shouted, "Dey be runnin' now. We be pushin' forward, and be freein' all of Zul Drak from de Scourge grasp!"
Nobu'tan nodded, "And the Dark Horde will see it through to the end as well."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Garrosh scrutinized the strange bison-like Tauren that had been brought before him. Adventurers of the Horde had ventured across the Borean Tundra, as well as began entering the Dragonblight beyond, and had encountered this odd-looking relative of the Bloofhoofs, and through a series of events that even the orc hero did not want to consider, connived them to come before Garrosh and pledge themselves to the Horde, in exchange for assistance against the Scourge.
"I am Roanauk Icemist, of the Icemist tribe of the Taunka," the creature declared, bowing respectfully.
"I am Garrosh, representing the Warsong Offensive of the Orcish Horde," Garrosh replied, nodding his acceptance of the respect that the Taunka showed him.
"Heroes of your Horde have saved my village, driving out the undead Scourge, and even saved my life," Roanauk explained, "after delivering many of my people from certain destruction, I can do nothing more than repay that blood debt with undying loyalty. The Horde has protected us, now allow the Taunka to join your fight against the Lich King and his undead hordes."
Saurfang glanced at him, and Garrosh caught the look of approval. The old orc was willing to allow these creatures, natives of this harsh environment, and their aid as scouts and guides would be invaluable. Still, Garrosh wanted something more than just a simple declaration of alliance.
"And will you swear on it?" he asked therefore, testing the waters between the older orc and the Taunka before him.
Saurfang frowned, but less out of annoyance and more out of puzzlement; however, Chieftain Roanauk wasted no time in his hopes to avoid disappointment.
"The Horde aided my people in our time of need, and we will do our part to aid them in theirs. From this moment, until the end of days I live and die – For the Horde!" he bellowed, making the walls shudder a bit at the deep boom of his voice.
Garrosh was pleased, and even a touch inspired. The honor displayed by these bovine only aided him in understanding why Thrall had so quickly accepted the friendship of Carine and his Bloodhoof Tauren. Even Garrosh had nothing but respect for the old bull, even if it seemed that the creature had disdain for Garrosh's brash nature and youthful desire for action.
"We'll see immediately to the arming of your people," Garrosh said, "We have use for your people as scouts and guides to move our forces swiftly through the frozen wastes." And even as he spoke it, Garrosh signaled for warriors to bring in samples of the Horde's best armaments.
