Sylvanas Windrunner
She had mixed feelings for the Ashen Crusade. On the one hand, the duty of fighting the trolls in the woodlands belonged to her and her rangers, trained archers and wood elves to match and surpass the troll headhunters in the forests. Meanwhile, the Ashen Crusade simply flooded the land with light and fire as they screamed and butchered trolls with reckless abandon. Any cooperation tended to be incidental at best and they had become more standoffish, more isolated from the rest of their people as time went on. Brutal and relentless crusaders who cared nothing at all for politics, who gave up everything to take the fight to the trolls.
Frankly, as she looked over the Thas'alah vale... only they would dream of such a thing, as they redirected the ward stones, as the nature of the forest shifted and pulsed, turning from spring to the fires of war as the mother tree burned, screaming like a great phoenix. Ashes drifted on the wind, joined by war chants, by the fact that the Crusade did not rest, did not relent, even as she had to pull back, the roaring of purge fires roaring as she moved to defend the enchanted gates.
The dead did not cease, even as they marched, as the sheer ferocity of the crusaders held them back. How many refugees had her rangers directed to safer havens told tales of the ashen, immolating from the inside as they held the line in groups of two or three, halting the scourges advances in dozens of places at terrible cost to allow the people time to flee? Far too many, as the hordes of corpses pressed forward, as they kept coming. Once more, the forests burned, once more there was no respite, nothing even as the crystals were claimed.
But time had been bought, runners dispatched and forces alerted and gathering. But they needed the mages and the nobles, the Far Striders and Ashen Crusade could not triumph alone. They needed the magical support, even as she destroyed the bridges, as she prepared the ambushes and withdrawals. But, she had to choose a place to rest, to fortify and dig in, to buy time. Fairbreeze village. She would pull back and make ready to try and defend Fairbreeze village, All of its civilians had already been evacuated to Sunsail Anchorage.
She closed her eyes. "Sunwell, Light... keep Vereesa safe and far from here, safe in Dalaran."
Shazia
She looked on, as the loa she made a deal with, that had become a second father to them all, spread himself thing, possessing each of the flying devices that the crusade had managed to construct from the gnomes blueprints. In truth, they HAD been planning on saving this for their next major offensive on Zul'Aman, flames sparking to form faces as they lifted off, bound a single will. In some regards, as she looked at the lands below her, as she could feel her brothers and sisters flaring and winking out... it brought things into perspective.
The flying devices moved, darting and positioning themselves over the dead, spheres of iron falling, bombs exploding in their wake, churning and shattering the ground as they made bombing run after bombing run, dead flesh and exposed bone pulverized and scattered, each flying device eventually bro8ught down by gargoyles or undead dragons, but not before each claimed a terrible toll on the scourge that came to their lands. A good test run, for when they moved to wipe out the trolls. But, this would have bought time, made it so that others could escape.
Which in the end, why else did they fight?
Kael'thas Sunstrider
His people needed him, for this was the hour that would see them live, or see them drown in blood. And so, he rushed north with all possible speed, across the lands of falling and fallen Lordaeron, where pockets of the dead and damned rose to bar his way. He pushed on with flame and spell, his forces, which included some humans willing to come to the aid of the elves, dwarves that had been fighting alongside human friends, fellow mages of Dalaran, all of them a force that pushed north with all haste.
At first, they tried to take the Greenwood pass, only to discover it was a molten see of ever burning flame. One that, on closer inspection, they could pass, the flames licking at them, caressing them, blazing with a terrible light, with the chants of war and the demand for crimes to be accounted for. It was not a shrine to nature, as they passed through it, but a crucible, refining them for the conflict ahead. And so they emerged, wrapped in the suns own fury, falling on the rear of the undead army with a terrible vengeance... and retreating as needed, moving along side roads and other paths to advance, to assist in the ongoing battles and evacuation.
It was as they were crossing the Elrendar River that he heard it, the booming pound of hammers, the cracking of ozone. High above them, the Wildhammer rode, swooping down to share the news. An ashen crusade runner had approached them and asked for aid, and so they came north to help save the people. He did not weep, even as he staggered, as he felt the grand defences fall, as he felt the sunwell start to dim, as everything was pulled to the island.
Fury gripped him, as he looked on the damned, trampling the corpses of those too slow to flee. He would burn them to ash! But... his people came first, even as he nodded, as he would make sure that his people would survive, no matter the cost.
Anasterian Sunstrider
To use a human saying, as he readied his blade on a bridge of ice and corpses, he was too old for this shit. Really, it was not a dignified thing for a king to think, even in the privacy of his own head, but frankly? He just wanted to be back in his palace, attended to by some of the most beautiful elves in the woods before he finally died. Maybe have a grandchild to spoil. He would not even complain about a half human bastard, if it meant that his son would no longer be a virgin. Seriously, as he looked at Arthas. "Boy, I respected your father." And wonder of wonders, it was even true. "But you?"
He sneered, one that he had practiced much in his youth at his mothers urging, and then he noticed a build of the light, of dozens of hammers rushing out of the water. Seriously, did they not know this was his last stand? And then the waters erupted. "What sort of..." The human former paladin seemed to be on the verge of a stroke. Mostly because of the dozens of murlocs blazing with the light in paladin gear.
The elven king just laughed. This. This was the reason he never tried to reign the Ashen Crusade in, because this was something that they would do! That, or that elemental of theirs, that was legally distinct from being a loa and therefore a filthy pagan troll spirit whose worshipers needed to be brought to justice. At the very least, he would die amused, as he did his best to kill the Menethil brat.