Mildly late, but i blame the advent of summer! Anyway, thanks for those who've been keeping up, it means a lot, please R&R and as always, enjoy the chapter! ~F

Chapter 156

Fall of Naxxramus

Lucius was disappointed, mildly, that his son wouldn't be present to see the fallout of his little scheme.

With word that the battle for Zul'Drak was complete, with a Dark Horde victory, the clans were free and already on the move to the southwest, entering the central regions of the icy continent. However, for Lucius, this meant that the Balefire Ogre Magi were available to summon to the Violet Citadel and offer for the Kirin Tor to consider in their ranks of unified magi.

Standing in the giant sewer system of the floating city, which had mostly drained from the exposed lower channels and pipes to the ground far below, Lucius slowly channeled the magic required to transmit the visual image of his location to the leader of these Ogres, allowing a Nether Portal to be established between them.

Soon, the shadowy gateway was standing and already spilling forth the massive arcane users of the Dark Horde, their banners and colors on full display. "We are at your command, Lord Terrath," the blue-skinned leader of these Ogre Mages said, "I am Cho'Rush," he added, each head bobbing once in acknowledgement.

"Good," Lucius said, turn and beckoning that the group of thirty ogres follow, "There is little need for secrecy now that you're here, but neither ought we to act in haste or provoke violence."

"We will follow your lead," Cho'Rush said, clearly calculating the ramifications of what they had stepped into between both minds.

"Let's go," Lucius said, knowing that their presence was probably already noted by those monitoring the magical signatures in the city.

Emerging from the sewers nearer to the Violet Hold, Lucius was unsurprised to find a contingent of elves, both in Alliance blue and Kalimdor Horde red, clogging the street corner from both ends. That these elves were independently watching who and what came through the city spoke of their great distrust. The Archmage Rhonin was already standing between them and the sewer entrance, trying to keep the peace.

"My Lord Lucius," he said, turning away as other Kirin Tor guards arrived to keep the two groups of elves apart, "I need to ask what you have done, bringing members of the Dark Horde to our city?"

"You asked for more members in the Kirin Tor," Lucius said with a cold smirk, "Magic users to bolster your ranks and represent the Violet Eye. You have members of both the Alliance and the Kalimdor Horde among your ranks, so I extended the offer to the Dark Horde, and they have sent Ogre Magi to join you, as their representatives."

Lucius did nothing to muffle his voice, so all assembled heard him clearly, and the angry muttering surged through the groups of elves on both sides of the street corner. But Lucius had eyes only for the Archmage of Dalaran. Rhonin had a wide range of emotions flash across his face in rapid succession. Lucius enjoyed the shift from surprise, to panic, anger, and finally forced calm that washed over the Mage's face, before he breathed deeply.

"This is… unexpected, to be sure," he said, turning back to the two groups of elves. "But we cannot rightly turn away any genuine offers to assist us in these dire times."

Unsurprisingly, this was not well received by either faction, and the loud protests had to be silenced with a spontaneous burst of loud arcane explosions in the air. "Even as the three factions are united against the Scourge, so ought we to come together to face the threat of the loss of magic itself!"

"We'll leave you to deal with this," Lucius said to Rhonin over his shoulder. "We'll camp outside the Violet Hold, as the city is only so large anyway…"

They stepped away, not confronting the elves and their hostility, and regardless of the Archmage's desires, Lucius led the way to the side, past the High Elves toward the arcane prison. The Alliance sympathizers did nothing to stop them, not willing to violate the truce that held sway in Dalaran between all visitors no matter their faction or loyalty.

"What was the purpose of this spectacle?" Cho'Rush asked, the ogre mage genuinely trying to see the stratagem that Lucius had initiated.

"Distraction," Lucius replied, "Now the factions are busy arguing amongst themselves rather than focusing on us and what we are doing in the immediate. This allows your ogres to entrench yourselves here, and snuff out any chance of them declaring that the Dark Horde cannot be represented among their numbers."

"I see," the ogre mage said with realization, "So this was an initial strike, without violence, effectively making it certain that we would be permitted to stay regardless of what those elf factions would want."

"Precisely," Lucius said, nodding. "The fact that they fight so strongly against the only group willingly stepping forward to help only makes them look worse in the eyes of the Kirin Tor leadership. We have to do nothing more than continue to insist we are genuine in our offer."

"There is so much to learn about the subtly of other races," the ogre said, turning to start arranging the other magi into small camps for their own comfort while they awaited their fate in the violet citadel.

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Tyrande could not postpone her own needs, or that of her people, any longer.

They had assisted in fending off the waves of undead that came for the capitals of the Alliance, and seen to sending warriors and adventurers northward to support the retaliatory strike against the Lich King. But even still, the call to Feralas and the Emerald gateway only grew stronger the longer she postponed.

But no more…

She had summoned Shandris, and the High Priestess of Elune would herself go down into the wilds near Feathermoon fortress and see about finding answers herself.

"You summoned me, Minn'do?" Shandris said, clearly suspicious of Tyrande's motives.

"I cannot wait any longer. We must discover what has happened to my Beloved. Our people need his guidance, and we need answers to why he has not awakened from the Dream." She declared.

"The sentinels are ready, whenever you wish to move out. We have been awaiting the order." Shandris said, pride in her warriors evident in her voice.

"With the rising of the moon," Tyrande said, glancing out the window at the setting sun out past the sea. Elune's guidance would be needed for them to have any chance at finding the truth to this mystery.

"We will mobilize immediately." Shandris said, saluting and turning to depart swiftly.

Tyrande hoped that marshal might wouldn't be needed, but she feared that the strange corruption that had been reported in the dragon Emeriss would be more than a rumor or misreport. If something seriously wrong was in the Emerald Dream, they may have to fight off some manner of madness.

"We're coming," she said, speaking to her love, lost in his slumber.

Tyrande had little in the way of preparations that she needed for herself, and was waiting at the front of the Temple of Elune for the Sentinels to arrive. With a crescent moon overhead, they set out by ship from Darnassius, sailing southward toward Feathermoon, where they would land and continue by foot.

The removal of both Hordes from Desolace made the journey far swifter, as the Night Elf ships did not have to skirt around the coast of the devastated land. Within a few hours they were disembarking and marching up the slopes to the main road into the jungle of Feralas.

Turning northward, Tyrande led the way into the wilder part of the region, seeking the small isle in an inland lake where the emerald gateway had long laid dormant.

That was no longer the case. Green dragonspawn were flooding both banks of the lake, warding away anything that drew too near.

The problem with these dragonspawn was the sickly color of their scales. "By Elune's light…" Tyrande breathed, realizing the stink of the magic that perverted these creatures, "Xavius…"

"Put these creatures out of their misery, we need to take the portal!" she commanded, and Shandris echoed the order. The Sentinels, ready to follow any command of their leaders, shouted a cry and charged in, catching the green dragonspawn off guard and smashing through their outer guards.

Something stirred on the dais on the central isle. Emeriss, the green dragon, emerged from a shadowy emerald portal fixed into the trunk of a great tree.

"Hope is a disease of the soul!" the dragon bellowed, voice strained and warped much like her appearance, "This land shall wither and die!"

Tyrande mourned the venom that dripped from the words, and the flying sickening that manifested around the former friend of the Night Elves. If this was the state of the Emerald Dream, then there was no doubt that Xavius' prison would have been weakened, and the original Saytr's hatred of her Beloved was vast and deep.

But to understand what was going on, she would have to battle and defeat Emeriss, and Tyrande knew that it would tear at her heart to do so. Nevertheless, she was undeterred.

"Mother Moon, guide your Light through me," Tyrande prayed, notching an arrow and sending it flying at the corrupted dragon.

The moon-silver arrowhead sank deeply into the scaled neck, causing Emeriss to bellow in pain and anger, before the corrupted dreamer turned and charged. "Taste you world's corruption!" she bellowed, even as the Night Elves formed a line to repel her attack.

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Garrosh growled in anger at the frustratingly little progress that they had made. The Horde and Alliance forces had managed to entrench themselves in the Broean Tundra, finishing their respective fortresses in order to call forth more forces from their lands, but the assault of the Scourge had been unending, preventing any attempt to push out with their might toward the other regions.

"You overexert yourself," Saurfang the Elder said, trying in vain to sooth the rage that burned in the young Mag'har's breast. "You cannot allow your frustration to blind you to what success we've already made."

"But your son in out there without reinforcements, surely you out of all would care the most about getting our forces to aid him swiftly!" Garrosh shot back.

"I am concerned about my son," Varrok affirmed calmly, although Garrosh paused to notice the tightening grip on the haft of the old veteran's axe. "But trying to push our way through to reach him would not help him or us… we need to whittle our enemies down, and break their lines so that we take control of a safe passage out of here."

Turning away, still fuming, Garrosh took up his twin battleaxes, "Then we shall have to carve the path through them ourselves," he said.

"There is a time that a leader has to remain at the rear, to direct and give orders," Saurfang countered, but even as Garrosh turned to protest, he spotted that the older warrior was smiling widely, fire in his eyes, "but this is not that time. Orcs lead from the front."

"Then we shall do just that!" Garrosh bellowed, calling for his Kor'kron guard to attend and follow him into battle.

Charging out of the front gate, Garrosh targeted the nearest undead ghoul and rushed over the horror, bowling the thing to the ground and slamming both axes into it. Another leapt to try and attack him while his back was turned, but the massive arcanite reaper slapped it out of the air, cleaving it in two with a follow up strike.

"Lok'tar Ogar!" Saurfang boomed, heartening their forces and signaling a charge, "For the Horde! Charge!"

A pair of wild Tauren stormed forward, goring undead on their horns as they cleared the way for the rest of their forces. Trolls hurled javelins, axes, and magic to support their mad rush as the Horde spilled out into the wide trench around Warsong Hold.

Soon they broke into two sizable groups, one delving into the deep pits around the Hold, while Garrosh, Saurfang, and others circled around to the upper ridge, hoping to push back those that would try to hold onto their current grasp.

Glancing to the southeast between strikes, Garrosh raised an eyebrow at the surge of activity at the Alliance stronghold. Whoever was in charge there must have had a similar idea, as the humans and their allies were also throwing the Scourge back from their coastal keep as well.

"If we fight alongside the Alliance, we stand a chance to push the Scourge out of this part of the region altogether," Saurfang suggested seriously.

Garrosh snarled at the thought, although he knew it was nothing less than the truth. "We finish our business here, and then we will deal with the Alliance and the rest of the Scourge."

Varrok nodded, agreeing to the delay of dealing with the other faction. At least the old orc hadn't asked the one thing that Garrosh would never agree to: working directly with the Dark Horde and their demonic-infused masters.

That, Garrosh would rather die than do. Those war-mongers had defiled their people before trying to sell them all to demons, only to do so twice more after their failed war on this world. Never again, Garrosh would not allow this new Horde to fall into the same destructive practices of the old.

Like the jaw of an old Outland ravager, their forces caught the undead in a tight pincer, and crushed them from both above and below, driving the nerubians away and scattering the ghouls and skeletons, where they withdrew to their necromancer masters.

It bought them a little time, as Garrosh strongly suspected that the undead wouldn't give up trying to hold this region unless they were fully forced out, just as Saurfang suggested.

"Now that our perimeter is clear, we should lend aid to the Alliance, and suggest a joint attack to drive out the Scourge siege forces." Varrok suggested.

Momentarily swallowing his pride, Garrosh nodded. It was a good plan, even if it required the assistance of those who had oppressed the orcs when they were at their lowest.

Riding wolves were brought for them from the stables, and wyverns riders were launched to head off their reinforcement of the Alliance stronghold.

"To Valiance Keep with all haste!" Saurfang shouted, commanding both his mount as well as their forces to greater speed.

Garrosh sped after the veteran, kicking his mount to overtake the old orc as they pounded across the frozen ground.

As they started down the ridge toward the Keep, Garrosh spotted that the Alliance defenders were already being pushed back by the waves of undead. The fact that these were the greatest threat to the stability of the Horde in Azeroth only frustrated Garrosh all the more, but he signaled for the charge nonetheless, bellowing orders to the other wolf riders in order to surround and trample the rioting undead, driving them away from the bridge that led into the humans' stronghold.

"Lok'tar Ogar!" Garrosh cried, even as he slashed a ghoul that was engaged in whom he presumed was the leader of these humans, speeding past on his mount to leap into another knot of undead.

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Nobu'tan glared down from the high rise of the final stairs leading into Zul'Drak, into the sweeping lowlands of the Dragonblight. It had taken his army slightly longer than he had anticipated clearing through the remaining Scourge forces, but at last they had arrived at the exit of the troll empire, and the edge of the next stage of their campaign across Northrend.

But what angered him was the sight looming in the air over the eastern section of their entrance point, as though a blockade set specifically for them. Naxxramus, the dread citadel of Kel'Thuzad, floated above the ruins of some human settlement, almost defying them in its battle-worn condition. There were places where Nobu'tan could see that the floating fortress was still bearing scars of their previous engagement with the Dark Horde, and others, that had not been repaired fully.

"It is exactly as Bellatrix had described," Voldemort said, the chieftain of the Blightbringers approaching alongside the other clan leaders and champions to decide their approach against the floating threat.

"As promised, you have my authority to take the spearhead on this battle," Nobu'tan said to the Death Knight, knowing that he had no alternative but to honor the request, with how pertinent the information of what they faced had become.

While he had hoped that they might slip by without procuring the ire of Kel'Thuzad, it had been a small hope at best, and now that their army had been spotted, it was clear that the Scourge forces would be focusing their wrath upon them from that fortress.

"At least most of their forces will be spent in the south, fending off Windrunner and her Forsaken," Nobu'tan added, even as several warlocks conjured another fleet of eyes to monitor the ensuing series of raids that populated the southern forest. They had been monitoring the activity there with close attention, as they could see the fighting from their overlook past the treetops.

Many of the Scourge forces scrambling around the ruined village that Naxxramus was floating over had been diverted to try and prevent the Banshee from crossing the river herself, which meant that their path down from the slopes of Zul'Drak would be gentler, but only just.

From their invasion several years previous, Nobu'tan knew that scores of undead awaited in that flying stronghold, all just waiting to be unleashed onto the world.

"Can we bring it down without having to enter those unhallowed halls once more?" Bannok Grimaxe asked, the orc paladin's eyes shining with indignation at the hosts that loomed over them.

"With the plan that my clan has created, we will not even need to commit many troops to accomplish it." Voldemort said, the smirk evident in his voice even if it was no longer visible on his dead face.

"Whatever you need of us, we shall do it," Nobu'tan said, wanting this issue dealt with quickly and without much commitment. Kel'Thuzad was not a threat to him personally anymore, but if he positioned himself in the way of the Dark Horde, Nobu'tan would shatter the Lich a second time and leave the bones to scatter in the frozen winds of the continent.

"We only need the Stormreaver Clan, the Dawn's Hammer, and our own Blightbringers," Voldmort said, "the others can continue onward to the rally point at the Wrathgate."

Nobu'tan raised an eyebrow. While the Stormreavers were one of the larger clans in the Dark Horde, they were still rather limited and spread out across their many objectives. Adding only the Blightbringer and Dawn's Hammer clans to their presence, each clan being the smallest in the Dark Horde, didn't amount to a significant force. What the Death Knight anticipated to accomplish with such limited forces spoke strongly of some secret weapon or stratagem that the Grand Warlock desired to know more of.

Voldemort caught the look, "That is all we will need, trust me…"

The tone did not speak well toward encouraging trust, but Nobu'tan had had enough experience with the former Dark Lord that he knew when the man wanted to show off his power, and nodded his permission. "You heard the Lord of the Blightbringers, move out!"

Teg'Ramm, predictably, was visibly displeased at the news but a sharp glance from Nobu'tan silenced any protest before it started. The Ogre Mage had already been told that he was needed to lead the Dark Horde in Nobu'tan absence, and this was just another instant where the powerful warlock had need of another to take the reins when he himself was elsewhere.

Gesturing for Voldemort to lead on, Nobu'tan placed a hand on the young orc carrying the banner of the Stormreaver Clan, and the lad raised the flag high and gave it the signaling wave for the clan to follow. Young beings, a troll and another orc repeated the same for the Blightbringer and Dawn's Hammer clans, and together the three clans moved out toward the floating fortress.

Eyeing the large carts among the Blightbringers' lines, their wheels digging deeply into the snow, and the rattle of glass within betraying the contents, Nobu'tan leaned closer to Voldemort "Taking up plague-smithing I gather? Following the footsteps of the Forsaken undead of the Kalimdor Horde?" he teased.

"Something far better, and likely more powerful," the Death Knight replied, before turning his attention to a small open patch ahead of them, they jutted out before the region. "There, we shall make use of our little surprise there," he said, indicating the area and halting.

"I gather the rest of us are here merely to run interference when the Scourge become riled up against your little project," Nobu'tan stated flatly.

"Only for the Dawn's Hammer," Voldemort replied, gesturing at the lowlands, "The undead will be funneled directly into their waiting arms if they position themselves there. I doubt much of terrible challenge will arrive, but just in case they had best prepare immediately."

Bannok Grimaxe nodded at that, already sending his Paladins and Clerics to array themselves against the Scourge counterattack.

"And we provide ranged support," Nobu'tan supplied, "keeping an eye on the skies as well as anything that required a concentrated effort to bring down."

"Precisely," Voldemort affirmed, "but also so that you can bear witness to the unraveling of the Lich King's plans for this place… and the utter defeat of the Lich that threatened us all once before."

And with that, the catapults were pulled up. At first Nobu'tan was going to comment that they lacked the range to reach the flying necropolis, but then he noticed the shimmer of magic imprinted in the gears and throwing arm. "Enchanted artillery, really?" he asked, glancing back at the Death Knight in amusement.

"We don't want our enemies to think that we rely solely upon trebuchet for all our siegecraft, do we?" the undead wizard retorted, even as the first barrage was launched, propelled farther than normally anticipated.

The glass canister exploded in a shower of blue mist on the side of the floating terror, and the howling from within told a story of annihilated undead within. Scores of Scourge started to appear beneath the fortress, appearing en masse from the teleporter and surging toward their position.

"I think not," Voldemort said, even as more explosions of the blue anti-plague gas erupted from the catapult shots, hemming in the skeletons and ghouls that perfectly funneling them into the weapons of the Paladins and Clerics of the Dawn's Hammer.

"The fortress again!" Voldemort cried, and boulders were sent into the hovering bastion of death, shattering walls and towers, raining rubble down upon the horde trying to reach them.

A surge of magic from within told Nobu'tan that Kel'Thuzad was indeed present still, and trying to keep his fortress stable through sheer force of magic.

"Oh, interesting," Nobu'tan said, realizing the state of the hobbled building before them. Naxxramus was significantly less able and ready than appearance belied, "that fortress is held together by magic more than brick and mortar…"

"As I surmised," Voldemort said, gloating in his brilliance. "They couldn't have had the force or skill to repair the damage we had done to it in only a scant few years, not unless the lord of the dead had living workers to motivate…"

"And so they relied upon magic to make up for what they couldn't do with materials." Nobu'tan finished.

"If we continue to chip away at the physical structure," Voldemort started, his excitement at what they were accomplishing matched only by Nobu'tan's rising interest.

"Then Kel'Thuzad will be forced to come out and defend his fortress himself, as every ounce of his forces is depleted between your antiplague and the Dawn's Hammer Clan's power over the Light." Nobu'tan said, eyes gleaming.

"And we get the final showdown that he wants, and you need, to end this charade once and for all." Voldemort concluded.

"So be it…" Nobu'tan said, watching as the bombardment continued, and the fluctuating power of the Lich Lord of Naxxramus slowly grew in desperation and strength.

"Enough! I grow tired of these distractions!" the wicked voice rang out at last, after several minutes of the continued devastation of the undead forces, and the Lich appeared among a new wave of his soldiers.

A surge of shadow and frost flew toward their location, but Nobu'tan happily lifted a wall of green Felfire to obliterate his former mentor's power. "Deal with him, while we finish the battle," Voldemort encouraged, and Nobu'tan leapt into the air, allowing his demonic wings to carry him aloft toward the Lich.

Wishing momentarily that he had Aetish with him again, he instead grasped the scepter he had claimed from Kil'jaeden, wondering if the Fel infused weapon would prove to be an equal of the Guardian's staff in combat with the Lich.

"You," Kel'Thuzad stated flatly, blazing blue flames in his eyes focusing on Nobu'tan, "Your magic is familiar to me, yet so different."

"It has been something of a turn of time, my old Mentor…" Nobu'tan taunted, lifting the scepter and feeling a fresh surge of Fel power run through him. It would serve well, he suspected.

"Banu…" the Lich hissed, raising his hands and allowing magic to waft from them freely, "You have succumbed to the Fel completely then, and your soul is no longer serviceable to my master… disappointing."

"Oh, I'm hurt," Nobu'tan shot back scathingly, "after you worked so hard to try and take me for yourself… but you're in my way, and shall be destroyed on the way to shatter all of Icecrown…"

"I will freeze the blood in your veins!" Kel'Thuzad shouted, launching a fresh torrent of magic at him. Fire blossomed to meet the ice, blazing in its intensity and scorching even the frozen ground between them. Nobu'tan knew that his anger was manifesting in his magic, but between the need to distract the Lich from the rest of this battle, and his desire to shatter the skeletal mage altogether, Nobu'tan was allowing himself to slip in his control.

Overcharging a bolt of chaotic magic, Nobu'tan felt his disguise slip, revealing the demonic form he had transformed into even as he started his own attack on the Lich. Whether Kel'thuzad reacted to his appearance, the skeletal face showed no sign. Regardless, the bolt of destructive energy shattered the basic mana shield that Kel'thuzad had erected around himself prior to Nobu'tan engaging him.

"I will rip your soul out of the Nether and break you for this," the Lich threatened, even as he amassed power of shadow and death in his hands.

"I think you have bigger problems to worry about right now," Nobu'tan said, glancing upward at the necropolis.

Another powerful barrage of ordinance struck it just then, knocking out the crystal keeping it aloft, and it started to fall, crashing down upon its own teleportation pedestal.

The last remnant of undead that tried to flee felt the full impact, and a shockwave of kicked up dirt and snow was thrown in all directions.

Kel'Thuzad raged, "The cold will take you!" and flung more magic from his skeletal fingers. Before Nobu'tan even had to react, Voldemort interceded, blocking the howling blast of cold with his runeblade. "You're power is broken, Lich," he stated, "and we will be banishing your soul where it will not return again…"

"You fool," Kel'Thuzad mocked, "I am deathless, the Lich King gave me life eternal, and I cannot be banished from this plane."

"Care to bet?" the Death Knight shot back, raising his pair of weapons. They flared with dark green energy, almost like flames but something more sinister and shadowy, "Greet the afterlife for us, will you?" Voldmort requested, even as he slashed the air between the Lich and himself, tearing open a gateway the instantly drew in all air around it.

"No!" the Lich bellowed, robes flapping around his skeletal frame as he was pulled toward the gateway, "Impossible! Death…answers… to me!"

Like ghostly arms, the gusts of pressurized wind drew the Lich into the portal, sealing itself, and Kel'Thuzad, in whatever plane of existence that Voldemort had concocted for the madman.

"It is finished," the Death Knight said, "I trust that you have no complaints about the eliminations of your old associate?"

"None whatsoever," Nobu'tan said, observing the destruction of the necropolis generally, "This will greatly weaken the Lich King, as well as usher both our advance, as well as Windrunner's, to reach the Wrathgate and meet up with the rest of the factions' forces."

"If we even need to deal with them that is," Voldemort said.

"Yes, there could be little need, presuming we reached the gate first, in addition to our forces overlooking from nearby," Nobu'tan agreed.

"I trust that Zabini has everything here well in hand?" the Death Knight asked, even as the pair of earth-born leaders turned to rejoin their clans.

"I trust Zabini's skills with my life," Nobu'tan replied.

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Blaise took a vantage point on a towering pine overlooking the bridge that the Alliance had predetermined to cross. From what he could see toward the east, the Horde was on the move as well to the same location, meaning that each commander had had similar ideas regarding searching the ruins dotting the region and making use of what they could find.

The problem would be when both Kalimdor Horde and Alliance encountered each other. From all accounts that he knew of, they should try to work together, but for some reason Blaise couldn't see both factions trying to share the limited resources of the region.

Should it come to blows between the two, it would be even easier for the Dark Horde drake riders to swarm over both of them and chase both armies away from what they had already claimed.

The Allaince arrived first, and started investigating the old buildings and towers, which a few choice eyes of Kil'rogg had revealed to have plans for old siege tank-type engines. Before they could make off with the plans or get the factory shop up and running, however, the Kalimdor Horde arrived.

There was a bated moment when both groups of warriors took notice of each other, and then with a howl of aggression the orcs of the Kalimdor Horde charged.

Blaise smirked as the two groups immediately engaged, spells and projectiles flying over the melee that occurred just off the slopes of the ruins.

At this point, he just needed to come up with a good enough reason for Nobu'tan to use when the other factions complained about this massacre.

Humming an old earth tune to himself, Blaise watched with glee as the Dragonmaw arrived, swooping down through the dense cloud cover with flame and claw to tear through the lines of embattling foes.

Both forces were completely caught off guard, even as the Feldrakes blasted through their cluster of fighters and released the demonic fire upon their ranged forces. Whatever they hoped to gain in this place was shattered, as one reckless rider crashed into the tower itself, collapsing the structure and causing it to fall on the nearby workshop as well, crushing the occupants and whatever schematics that they had found altogether.

Blaise didn't have to lift a finger to help in the devastating attack, and merely stood as a silent witness as the Dragonmaw clan singlehanded scattered both Alliance and Kalimdor forces, sending them fleeing back to their camps to lick their wounds.

The plan was to continue to harass any attempt either force had to try and leave their bases into the region, and altogether force them both to withdraw altogether, securing all of wintergrasp for the Dark Horde.

Apparating back to the fortress they had secured, Blaise reported to Zhulud directly, "the attack is a rousing success, and both forces are abandoning their designs as planned."

"And not a moment too soon," the orc chieftain agreed, looking over the map of the neighboring Dragonblight, "Our army is nearing the Wrathgate, and will need our aerial support as they begin the siege of Icecrown."

"Any word from Lord Nobu'tan?" Blaise asked, wondering if he was to be called away for another assignment, now that the situation in wintergrasp was in hand.

"He is not among them at this time," Zhulud reported, "a side objective presented itself to eliminate one of the Black Citadels, and the Death Knight Chieftain needed the Grand Warlock to distract the Lich Lord that operated it."

Blaise frowned. Voldemort was still something of a wild card in the Dark Horde, and he personally did not approve of how well accepted into the inner circle Nobu'tan had permitted his former archenemy from their world.

Nevertheless, if what Zhulud was referencing was what Blaise thought it was, then the removal of Kel'Thuzad from the Lich King's arsenal would be a beneficial boon for them.

"Do we have eyes on the other factions' main forces?" he asked, thinking he might meet the advanced portion of their army and inform them of the troop movements across the continent.

"Horde and Alliance are routing the Scourge on the western coast, while the Alliance are holed up in their fort on the east… the Banshee is moving her forces with all speed, but encountering heavy resistance through the forests…" Zhulud said, tapping a trio of missives near the map.

"Then I will go and congratulate our army on being the first to arrive at the rally point, and see to their encampment near the Wrathgate," Blaise said, starting away.

"Take this for Nobu'tan," the Dragonmaw leader said, holding a sealed envelope, "Our report of the Scourge movement within Icecrown. They are marshaling toward the Wrathgate in large numbers, including many forces that we have yet to engage."

"I understand," Blaise said, "It will be for Nobu'tan and the inner circles' eyes only."

"We triumphed on the field for this day," Zhulud said, growing distracted by something far off in the distance, but Bliase saw nothing when he too looked. "But blood will be spilled across the snow and not only of our enemies…"

There was a sense of foreboding with his words; one Blaise couldn't shake it as he departed.