There have been many defining moments in the history of Azeroth, but none quite as fresh in our memory as the opening of the Dark Portal, and from there, the invasion of the Orcish Horde. The orcs, manipulated by the Burning Legion, swept across the Seven Kingdoms, bringing war, destruction, and death about them. Stormwind was the first to fall, and the remaining kingdoms rallied behind the kingdom of Lordaeron to forge the Alliance of Lordaeron. The war lasted for six years before the Alliance of Lordaeron defeated the Orcish Horde. What happened afterwards is not the story I wish to write about.
Heroes rose on both sides of the conflict. I am sure that you are well aware of the Sons of Lothar, named after the first and only Supreme Commander, Anduin Lothar, who fell towards the end of the war. The Sons of Lothar were perhaps the most accomplished heroes the Alliance of Lordaeron had to offer, but alas, they gave their lives in the campaign beyond the Dark Portal to see that Azeroth was protected (at the time of writing, the Dark Portal has opened again, although I have not heard what awaits on the other side). The story of the Sons of Lothar is not the story I wish to write about.
The story I want to write about is that of lesser known heroes. Six brave champions of the Alliance of Lordaeron, names that you have never heard of until now, but who proved their worth on the battlefield valiantly. They came from different backgrounds from across the land, but at the end of the war, they were brothers. They are Lion's Vengeance, an elite squad that fought against their own enemies in the war and emerged victorious. Their story, along with that of the friends and allies they made along the way, is the story I wish to tell.
I would like to start our story with Gerome Derrington, who had an important role to play as a member of Lion's Vengeance. Gerome was born in Stormwind City and raised in the city orphanage after his mother gave him up. He never found a new family, and with little other prospects available to him, enlisted in the military. Gerome's career as a soldier wasn't anything out of the ordinary. He had his fair share of combat facing the gnolls and the trolls of Stranglethorn Vale and eventually made it to the rank of sergeant.
Gerome's life, like many others, was forever changed when the Dark Portal opened and the orcs first came to Azeroth. Orc scouts came upon Gerome's unit, which had been posted to the border of the kingdom, and after a short battle, the orcs had many prisoners. Kutarg Firesong, a young warlock of the Blackrock Clan, had the idea to interrogate these prisoners for information on Stormwind. Gerome had to endure magical torture that broke many of his fellow soldiers at Kutarg's hand. While it is true that Kutarg's father, Ruvas, did take pity on Gerome and treated him with some dignity, Gerome's survival was mainly made possible by his determination and resilience.
Eventually, with the others tortured to death, Gerome was the last prisoner of his old unit left alive. Yet, there was a benefit to being taken prisoner. Kutarg ordered his father to teach Gerome Orcish so that the warlock didn't have to waste a spell to overcome the language barrier. Through Ruvas' lessons, Gerome not only had an understanding of the orc's language, but their culture as well, making him one of the first human experts on the invading orcs. Of course, he would only be able to share his knowledge once he escaped.
Gerome woke up when a cold splash of water slammed against his face. He groaned with his eyes closed as burly hands grabbed the manacles that bound his hands together to pull him up from the ground. His captor threw him up against a table and he grunted in pain. Gerome realized that another interrogation was about to begin, and given the rough awakening, Ruvas wasn't around. Kutarg was never delicate or caring. Despite the power he wielded, his method of interrogation was blunt and painful, a fact that Gerome knew all too well.
When Gerome was able to squint his eyes open, he saw his vile warden, illuminated by the braziers of the tent. The orc circled around the table, taking a seat on a stool. Gerome remained standing, knowing that Kutarg wouldn't let him sit. The warlock was garbed in dark robes and lowered his hood, revealing sickly green skin, red eyes, and long black hair. Despite being a spellcaster, Kutarg was muscular. Even when all Gerome saw were warriors, he knew that many orcs were physically strong. Having been starved and tortured at the hands of Kutarg, Gerome knew that he wouldn't stand a chance of killing his captor even when there were no guards present.
"I need answers, worm," Kutarg demanded in his native tongue.
Gerome remained standing, glaring at the warlock silently.
"The attack on your city failed," Kutarg continued. "Two of our clans were nearly wiped out."
Gerome resisted the urge to smirk, knowing that he would only be subjected to magical curses as torture.
"You will tell me any weaknesses in your city's fortifications."
"Tell me how your first siege failed," Gerome asked, speaking slower in Orcish.
Kutarg growled. "I am the one asking questions here, and you will answer them!"
"I need to know how the first attack failed so that I can tell you what mistakes you've made."
Kutarg grimaced in anger, then held his hand out toward Gerome. He couldn't hear what the orc whispered but knew what to expect. Pain surged through Gerome's body and he was barely able to catch himself on the table with both hands to remain standing. Kutarg's extended hand clenched into a fist with a green aura seeping out of his fingertips. Gerome never knew much about magic, but having suffered at these curses before, he knew that it was a dark form of magic. Still, he pushed himself to remain standing. Kutarg wouldn't kill him until he was broken and Gerome had no intentions of giving in so easily.
"The Horde makes no mistakes," Kutarg said, grinning at Gerome's pain. "You think that your people are superior, that you will win this war. You are mistaken. We have burnt many of your towns to the ground and have slaughtered any who stood in our way. There have been other prisoners more willing to speak and they no longer suffer like you do."
"B-because you kill them…" Gerome taunted through gritted teeth.
The green aura in Kutarg's hand grew brighter and Gerome yelled out in pain. "You live because I wish to see you broken, but until then, you will tell me how to breach the gates of your city. Then, you will beg for death, knowing that all the people you fought for are gone because of you!"
"That's enough!"
The sudden outburst was enough for Kutarg to break his concentration on the spell. Gerome nearly collapsed but held himself on the table, still not taking the risk of sitting down. Ruvas stood at the entrance to his son's tent, looking on in disapproval at the warlock. The elder orc was more scrawny than Kutarg but still had more muscle than most humans Gerome knew, most of which was covered in leather armor. Ruvas' skin was a brighter shade of green and his hair had grown white due to age. His age was clear with the wrinkles under his dark gray eyes.
Although he was as much of an enemy as Kutarg, Gerome was relieved to see Ruvas. The orc warrior joined his son in the interrogation and was responsible for getting the most information out of their prisoner. Gerome never meant to share anything with his captors, Ruvas was respectful and preferred conversations over torture. In a way, the elderly warrior was cunning in his own way. Even though Ruvas shared much of his people during these conversations as a way to get Gerome to open up, only one of them was in a position to act on their information.
"Leave us, old man," Kutarg demanded. "I am here to pry the secrets of his home from his anguished screams."
"Scouts have reported that ships en masse are sailing out of Stormwind City," Ruvas stepped into the tent.
"The city is evacuating?" Gerome muttered.
"We need to stop them!"
"And how would we do that?" Ruvas asked. "The Twilight Hammer and Bleeding Hollow were defeated because we didn't have the ships to stop their ambush. Gerome, you may take a seat."
Slowly, Gerome took a seat on the open stool by his side, thankful that his aching legs would get a break. If Stormwind City was evacuating, then it meant that the war was coming to an end. The Horde was close to winning. It was a lot for Gerome to take in. He had been captured before having a chance to fight, and even if no one knew of his fate, he gave everything he could to resist Kutarg's torture. Now, Stormwind City was about to be destroyed, and there was nothing he could do to save his home.
"I look forward to showing you the burning ruins of your city," Kutarg grinned. "Then, you shall die."
Ruvas pulled out a flask from his belt and held it out for Gerome. "Actually, I was hoping to learn more."
"What do you mean?" Kutarg asked, glaring at Gerome who took the flask from Ruvas. "Even if he would talk, what else does he have to share?"
Gerome listened to Ruvas while drinking from the warm water in the flask. "We have maps that show land farther north. Even some of the prisoners speak of other kingdoms. I was hoping that you may know more."
"And why would I tell you? Gerome asked, placing the flask on the table.
"Because if you don't, you're useless to me!" Kutarg slammed his fist down on the table.
"My son outranks me, so he is correct," Ruvas nodded, his voice growing more quiet. "Many of your people live. It may be hard, but live for the hope that you may reunite with them one day."
Kutarg opened his mouth to speak but held back when Ruvas raised a hand to silence him. Gerome thought it over, and sighed. "To the north lies Khaz Modan, the land of the dwarves. If you march there, you will face the Kingdom of Ironforge in battle."
"And they will fall," Kutarg declared.
"This isn't the first we've heard of the dwarves," Ruvas noted. "What can you tell us about them?"
"They're short but don't let their appearances fool you. I heard they make for mighty warriors. Like your Horde, they divide themselves up into clans. Many of their strongholds are built into the mountains and they make use of weapons far advanced than both of our armies."
"And what is past the dwarves?" Kutarg asked.
Gerome shrugged. "It doesn't matter. The Horde won't be able to breach the gates of Ironforge."
Kutarg held his hand out like before but a look from his father held him back. Either there was still some love for him or he knew that the elder orc had a plan. "What if we decide to travel by sea?"
"I thought the Horde didn't have a fleet."
"We don't, but after recent events, I intend to speak to the Warchief about the construction of the fleet after his mak'gora."
"They're still fighting," Kutarg shook his head in disappointment. "Those pathetic warriors don't know how to kill."
Gerome took note of what he heard and continued. "I'm not sure if your maps have it marked but there's an island nation, the kingdom of Kul Tiras. Under the command of the Lord Admiral are the strongest fleets on Azeroth."
"And of the other kingdoms?" Ruvas questioned.
"It doesn't matter. The Horde won't be able to get past the fleets of Kul Tiras."
"He's mocking us!" Kutarg growled and stood up. "He needs a reminder of our might."
"I am sorry," Ruvas muttered. Gerome closed his eyes in preparation for the pain when another orc warrior burst through the tent warrior.
"I'm busy!" Kutarg yelled out in anger.
"I come bearing a message," the new orc quickly said. "Orgrim Doomhammer has defeated Warchief Blackhand in mak'gora."
"What?!" Kutarg gasped in surprise.
"Then we have a new Warchief," Ruvas stepped forward to join the tent. "We must gather the warriors and prepare for whatever comes next. Secure the prisoner with the others."
"I'm in charge!" Kutarg exclaimed, his voice cracking with shock. "Have you forgotten?"
"Doomhammer has made no secret of his distaste for warlocks. It was Blackhand who lifted the warlocks to their positions. Son, I will speak to the Warchief so as to shield you from whatever changes may come, but you must do as I say until I've secured your safety. Return Gerome to the other prisoners."
Gerome watched Ruvas and his fellow warrior leave the tent. Listening closely, he could hear proclamations of a new Warchief from outside. The Horde was young and it had already found a new leader. Gerome doubted that it would make a difference for Stormwind's fate but realized that the change of leadership may have given him an opportunity unlike any other.
Kutarg made no effort to bring Gerome to the rest of the prisoners. Instead, his shock had consumed him as he paced around the tent, whispering his thoughts out loud. Gerome couldn't make out sentences but heard mention of a council and his rank. The warlock was concerned about losing his position to his father and didn't know what to do next. Ruvas was far kinder than his son and Gerome thought that he would be able to survive if the elder orc took over.
Yet freedom was better than serving a kind captor.
So caught up in his paranoid thoughts about the future that Kutarg didn't see the true threat stand up and sneak up behind him. By the time the warlock realized what his prisoner was up to, it was too late. Gerome threw his chains over Kutarg's neck and pulled back and up, suffocating him while trying to keep his mouth shut. The last thing he needed was for the warlock to cry out an alarm or cast a spell. Still, the orc desperately tried to open his mouth to say anything. Gerome knew that he had to end this before Kutarg realized that he could overpower his escaping prisoner.
With a loud grunt, Gerome twisted his chains to the side with all his strength. Kutarg slumped down to the ground with a snapped neck.
Gerome took several deep breaths. Being a prisoner for so long tore down his endurance but he still had enough fight left in him. He knelt down by Kutarg and started to shift through the corpse. Gerome was thankful to find the keys to the manacles that bound his hands and left the chains behind in the tent. Although Kutarg dealt in curses, he had a small dagger on him. Gerome took it, feeling a lot safer now that he had a weapon in hand. The warlock's robes were far too large for a human but with the hood on it was enough to serve as a disguise.
While in captivity, Gerome learned that orcs couldn't see in the dark just as humans. As long as he kept the robe's hood over his head and avoided getting too close to an orc, he was free. He made his way out of the tent and away from camp. The thought of freeing his fellow soldiers or striking back at the orcish camp was appealing, but in the end, Gerome was forced to push these thoughts away. This wasn't the moment that he would become a hero. If he made himself known, he would be caught behind enemy lines. As much as it pained him to leave without doing anything, it was a matter of survival.
The warriors watching the perimeter were too caught up in the moment of a change in leadership. Gerome pushed his way out of the camp, not looking back over his shoulder once.
Gerome had escaped from the clutches of the orcs yet had nowhere else left to go. Shortly after the first siege of Stormwind City, King Llane Wrynn was assassinated. Not long after, the Horde, under the command of Warchief Doomhammer, broke through the gates and tore through what resistance they found. The city was razed to the ground while its people lived on. Anduin Lothar led the refugees of Stormwind north to rally the other kingdoms to war.
With his freedom secured, Gerome focused on surviving. He stayed clear of the orcs and stuck to the wilderness where he hunted. Slowly, he recovered from the physical trauma of his time as a prisoner and was fit to fight again. Yet, the mental trauma remained, and his suffering at the hands of Kutarg would stick with him for years to come.
Ruvas would be the first to discover his son's body and cry out in anguish. He had shown pity to a prisoner who had escaped through bloodshed. More importantly, he had shared knowledge on the orcs with Gerome, knowledge that would go on to benefit the human nations.
A/N: It's been a while since I've been around to writing Warcraft fanfic. A lot about me has changed since the last time I wrote but in the back of my mind was the desire to get back to writing.
Lion's Vengeance is a Second War epic. The idea about this first came to me when writing Broken World and establishing Colben's backstory of having worked along with five other soldiers against the Horde. I wanted to develop on this idea some more. It's been years since I've written Broken World, my first fanfic entry. I'll admit that it is possible that Lion's Vengeance could retcon a few minor details mentioned in Broken World. Yet, I think as long as nothing major is broken, it is acceptable for a well-written story.
For those of you who have been waiting for the next chapter of Drowning Depths, all I will say is that it's coming.
If you like the story, feel free to like it and or leave a review. I have no clue when I'll write the next chapter. Again, a lot has changed over the years. I just hope to keep writing, and if it so happens that this is what I write about, then that'll be good enough for me.
Until next time.