Once more unto the breach! it is that time of the week again, my friends, and I hope that this chapter is as willingly received as it is willingly given. please R&R, and enjoy! ~F

Chapter Fifty Seven

Resounding Echoes

The elements churned with a strange shift in the steady, Durotar breeze that swept through the Valley of Wisdom. Thrall, Warchief of the united Horde of orcs, trolls, tauren, and currently the Forsaken undead, turned from his advisors to study the shift, staring out of Grommash Hold, past the massive dead tree that sported the armor and tusks of Manneroth and out into the night sky of Kalimdor.

"Warchief?" said a voice near him, and Thrall turned to see his chief advisor, Nazgrel, as well as a few others who had stopped to focus their attention upon him. The other shaman out in the antechamber had also stopped to perceive the change in the winds, which concerned the Warchief all the more. "Something is different in the winds, but I cannot place its origin…" Thrall said, standing from his massive throne and stepping down to stand among the other shaman.

"The elementals are in turmoil," Gotura Fourwinds stated, the hulking Tauren shaman of the Earthen Ring closing his eyes to feel out the distress of the powers they wielded.

"I sense it has something to do with events upon the Eastern Kingdoms," Zor Lonetree added, the Elder Far Seer of the Horde also reaching out with his power over the elements.

Thrall raised a hand, "We shall see what the Elements may tell us concerning this." He stated to the room at large, before gathering energy to himself. "Spirits of the Earth, heed my call!" he shouted, beckoning the primal energy to speak to the assembled leaders of the Horde's capital city.

The braziers all through Thrall's command center and fortress within Orgrimmar flared to life with new fire, as wind buffeted and rattled the banners that hung from the ceiling. The other Shaman added their own beckoning and calls to Thralls, and together the Shaman of the Horde and the Earthen Ring implored of the elements to tell them of what had occurred.

In his mind's eye, Thrall saw fire, great pillars of fire within the ashen wastes of the Burning Steppes, "The Firelord…" Gortura stated, also clearly seeing the vision that had taken Thrall. The scene continued as a swelling of mortal champions fought with the great elemental lord of the Firelands, and overcame him, casting him down from the molten core of Blackrock Mountain, and banishing him back to the elemental planes.

But the vision did not end there, as the wind stirred and revealed to Thrall the banners and colors of the group who vanquished the most dangerous of the lords of the four elements: white lightning upon a blue mountain, a most ancient and until recently extinct clan of orcs. Their leader's face came to Thrall's attention. He had never met the Warlock Gul'dan in life, but he had had the orc described to him many times by various individuals, Orgrim Doomhammer being chief of these, and he was certain that the orc matched the description perfectly.

But even as he watched, the orc's face shimmered and change to that of a young human, barely into this thirtieth year of life, with a sinister gleam in the red eyes, so clearly full of Fel energy and the hatred of the Burning Legion backing him.

Then, like the rushing of mighty waters the vision vanished from him, and all things returned to normal, although the elements were still distressed at the change of power in fire. "I understand now," Thrall said to the room at large.

"How can it be?" Zor replied, seating himself upon the fur covered floor of the keep, "the Stormreaver clan was eliminated during the second war, there is no possible way that they survived in any fashion, let alone in numbers enough to conquer the Lord of Fire."

"Warchief…" said a voice from the shadows, and Thrall turned to see his trusted friend, and leader of the Darkspear Trolls, Vol'jin, emerge to speak, "if what ya told us be true regardin' da Stormreavers, we be better off knowin' what dey be up to in da Eastern Kingdoms…"

Despite the difficulty that many had with understanding the Darkspear's accent when they spoke orcish, Thrall had no difficultly comprehending the troll leader's desire to sent scouts and spies to find out what was going on in the Burning Steppes.

"I agree Vol'jin, we should send several spies to go keep an eye on things," the Warchief stated, immediately being agreed with by all parties nearby.

"The Earthen Ring will send some of its Geomancers to accompany any scouting party into that land," Gotura added, speaking in the capacity of representative of the group of powerful Shaman, "If this group of warlocks was strong enough to overcome an elemental lord, we must be aware of their movements."

"Especially given that that mountain is the last know region of Blackhand's offspring and the renegade orcish clans," Nazgrel added, turning to look at his Warchief, "I know an orc who is perfect for leading this mission: Nazgrim, my son."

Thrall nodded, understanding his advisors desire to watch his son succeed in such an important mission, and there was no denying that the young orc was more than capable, as one of the youngest of the new Ko'kron guards, he had shown admiral strength and loyalty, even to a fault.

"I agree with Nazgrel's choice of leader, Warchief," Farseer Zor added, "and I will offer the usage of several of my shaman to support the Earthen Ring's efforts."

"Da Darkspear will send as many as ya command, Warchief," Vol'jin commented, and Thrall felt the power of their unity surging through the whole of Orgrimmar. The Horde was more powerful than it had ever been in many ages, now that they were free of Demonic corruption and united by bands of honor and loyalty.

That was, aside from one member of their united front.

"We should send word to Lady Sylvanas of this development," Thrall said, turning to look at the Forsaken's only representatives in his throne room, the Dark Cleric Cecille, as well as a few Forsaken Deathguards. The surprising bid for alliance from the Forsaken to the Horde was not looked upon by many as a good thing for the Horde, but Thrall was more than willing to give the Banshee Queen her chance to prove her loyalty.

"What says the Undercity?" Thrall said, when the human corpse made no motion or reply for a moment.

"We are grateful for the consideration of our voice in this matter, Warchief," the undead priest stated diplomatically, "but I would need to confer with the Dark Lady directly before I can give a definite answer."

"We shall have one of the Darkspear Mages open a portal for you to communicate with her then." Thrall stated, having known that that would be the answer he was given. For all her representative authority, the Forsaken were more or less bound to the will of Sylvanas, whether the Queen saw or cared about this or not, and they lacked time for a message to be drafted and sent across the sea, let alone waiting for the reply.

The Forsaken delegates bowed and departed, bound for the Valley of Spirits where the Darkspear trolls dwelled in the city, with a short note written by Vol'jin to permit their use of a mage's skill to communicate with the Undercity.

Raising a hand to forestall the words against the Undead from his advisors, who already knew Thrall's stance on the matter. It made no difference whether they received aide from the Forsaken, they were going forward with this scouting party, but having the Banshee Queen's blessing might make their plans easier to accomplish, as she was the only faction leader on the continent, which gave their scouting party resources and assistance if they needed it.

Surprisingly quickly, the representatives of the Undercity returned, bowing as they entered Grommash Hold. "The Dark Lady has granted her blessing, and will support whatever force you send through the Undercity to their objective."

Thrall nodded. It wasn't much, but it was something to work with, "Thank you, we will send our chosen groups via Zepplin to supply with her in short order."

"I will summon my son and his troops," Nazgrel stated, turning to depart. Thrall turned back toward his throne, still worried about the change in the elements and this new faction. This was not something that the Horde could afford to ignore.

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Prince Anduin Wrynn, the technical boy-king of Stormwind, sat uncomfortably upon his father's throne in Stormwind Keep, listening intently as his regent, Highlord Bolvar Fordragon, as well as his advisor, the Lady Katrana Prestor, spoke in hushed whispers as a delegation from Ironforge arrived.

Anduin himself was always rather friendly to those from the dwarven mountain, and if he had more opportunity to do so, he would have spent much time in the dwarven district of Stormwind, but both Bolvar and Katrana did not appreciate the amount of time that he spent on such 'frivolous' things that took him away from learning everything he needed to know to rule the kingdom.

Never mind that Anduin was sure his father would return, and he would have little need to learn everything to become king for a long time yet, but often he would submit to their wishes, if only for them to lower their guard so he could sneak out of the Keep and wander the streets, meeting the people and adventurers that so often walked among the citizens of his city. Most of the time Anduin would admit that he was seeking for anyone that had news of his father, but thus far none had offered anything more than what he already knew.

Returning his attention to the representatives of King Mangi, who Anduin treated more like an Uncle than a foreign dignitary, Anduin listened in on the reports from the areas north of Stormwind, the volcanic rises of Blackrock and the orc infested grounds around the dark mountain.

"Aye, something is very wrong in those mountains," he was saying as Anduin started paying attention, "Da Dark Irons started fleein in all directions soon after a new batch o' orcs showed up in da mountains. Seems mighty suspicious if yer ask me 'bout it…"

Both Lady Prestor and Bolvar exchanged glances at that. "Yes, I agree that we ought to send some Alliance troops to scout the area, and find out just what is going on." Bolvar agreed, even as Lady Prestor nodded.

"If something has tipped the fine balance of that mountain, the Alliance must be aware," Lady Prestor added, "Stormwind is too close if something is brewing, and we may need to set additional watches upon the walls and boarders of Elwynn."

"Thank ye m'lady," the dwarf replied, before shooting a bemused glance at Anduin, which was a signal of greeting from his Uncle, before bowing to the two leaders of Stormwind and departing.

"This does not bode well for the current climate between the Alliance and Horde," Bolvar added, as the pair returned closer to the throne, where Anduin could better hear and chime in on their conversation.

"No, but we need to see to our boarders above all else." Lady Prestor stated, "It could be that the Horde itself is trying to recruit more of the Blackrock orcs to their banner, and plan some sort of assault on Stormwind."

"You read far too deeply into their motivations," Bolvar countered, seemingly irritated at Lady Prestor's constant attempts to implicate the Horde in matter of betrayal.

"I doubt that Thrall would willingly sink low enough to plotting with those orcs against us," Anduin chimed in, "He's too honorable, and dosen't want war with our people."

"It may seem that way, my Prince," Lady Prestor said, her voice condescending, as though Anduin knew very little of what he spoke about, "but that is what they would want you to think moments before they attacked." Turning back to Bolvar, she continued, "Better to be safe rather than face the consequences…"

"As always, you are correct, my Lady," Bolvar conceded, nodding his head. A guard approached the trio, halting as they turned their attention to him. "My Lords, Lady," the guard said, "There is another person here concerning a matter of refugees from the south. A Lady Narcissa Malfoy wishes an audience."

"Show her in," Bolvar replied, even as Lady Prestor narrowed her eyes. Anduin wasn't sure why she was so against helping their people, but often her advise was well sounded and logical, so he decided to just watch and continue learning what he could from the pair of them.

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Narcissa cautiously approached the grand seeming throne for the King of Stormwind, suddenly somewhat uncertain of her choice to petition for housing to purchase for her people within the city. Firstly, she was confused by the fact that a young boy, no more than ten, was sitting on the throne with the clothes of royalty, but the two advisors standing near to the boy were equally intimidating.

The man, whom she could guess was regent, seemed like an open and kinder man to her eyes, but it was the woman that Narcissa was uncomfortable with. With her extremely dark hair and almost fiery eyes, Narcissa felt that there was something extremely dangerous and unnatural about this woman, but she was not in a place to question such things, or even comment upon the other woman, especially since she was wearing equally elaborate robes and carrying a staff of office, meaning that her word was equally powerful to the regents.

Narcissa bowed, more toward the young boy, a prince if she assumed correctly, upon the throne. "I am Lady Narcissa Malfoy, Lords and Lady," she said humbly, "and I come before you on behalf of my people, who recently escaped from the most recent attack upon Nethergarde Keep, deep in the Blasted Lands."

The pair of adults exchanged glances, as clearly news of such an attack had not reached their ears yet. "And why," the woman stated, her voice as cold as steel in Narcissa's ears, "would a woman of such regal bearing be the one to lead and represent such a group of refugees? Would not your husband, or another nobleman be more likely to take charge and lead?"

Narcissa had prepared long and hard for such questions. She guessed correctly that this was a patriarchal society, and therefore an explanation for the lack of men would be in order, "all our husbands, fathers and young men had to remain behind to safeguard our escape, especially through the treacherous wilds of the swamps, with orcs and all manner of foul creatures that would have slaughtered us along the way. I do not know how many survived, and we have heard nothing of them."

Narcissa had allowed something of a sorrowful tug into her voice, which she was sure melted some of the hesitancy around the heart of the regent, although it did nothing to thaw the icy temperament of the woman. "I do not think…" she started, but the prince interrupted her, "We will gladly look into this matter for you, my Lady," the boy said, sitting up straight in the throne and suddenly appearing far older and more mature than his age suggested.

"Furthermore," the boy continued, overriding the woman as she sought to regain control of the conversation, "I wish for there to be housing arrangements made for your people, within the protective walls of Stormwind, and our in the lands of Elwynn Forest, if we cannot even protect our people, what good are we as their rulers?"

Whatever Narcissa was expecting to happen, it wasn't that it would be this easy to procure what she desired. "I am most grateful, my prince," she said, turning back to the regent and their advisor, "we have much in the way of gold, wherewith we hoped to pay for such residents, if it would help speed the process of relocating our people within the capital. Currently we are filling every inn all the way to Goldshire, with more seeking shelter at Northshire Abby in the meantime."

"Dear Lady," the Regent said stepping forward, clearly motivated by the graciousness of his prince, "We will do all we can to make sure that adequate lodgings for every family is made, with room and furnishings within the budgets you may provide, and what charity we can afford from the royal coffers and other sources. I doubt that the church of the Light, nor the Northshire Clerics would tolerate anyone to be so destitute after fleeing the monsters at the Dark Portal."

"I… I am overwhelmed at your generosity, my Lord," Narcissa said, equal parts sincere and flattering, even as the man took hold of her hand, planting his lips to the back of it in true knightly fashion.

"Please," he said, meeting her eyes, the sincerity burning within them like a fire "Highlord Bolvar Fordragon, at your service."

Narcissa wasn't so blind by the man's courteousness to fail to notice the frigid glare that the woman was sending her. It seemed more than mere jealously at her stealing the affection of a man from her, but more as though Narcissa had encroached on her domain, and was stealing away some measure of control or power that she held.

It was interesting, and something that Narcissa wanted to investigate further, as the role of politics so often taken up by Lucius was something she had grown quite adept and rather fond of participating in. "I am most thankful for the kind and considerate reception of your hall, my prince," she added, returning attention to the young boy, who seemed to have also noticed the icy demeanor of his advisor. There was something being played at here, and Narcissa didn't like it for one second.

"Stormwind will do whatever it can for its citizens, wherever they came from," the boy said sagely. "I will have the guards take you to the land distributers in the city, so that you may do business with them," the boy stated, reaching for a wax seal, imprinted with the face of a lion, "this will guarantee that they will be as helpful as possible for your needs," he said, passing the seal to Bolvar, who in turned gave it to Narcissa.

"We wish you well in your endeavors, my Lady," the Highlord stated, and Narcissa bowed to the collective group once more, feeling the icy chill of the woman's eyes on her back until she left sight of the room.

Having what she desired of the Lords of Stormwind, and one major objective complete, Narcissa was free to let her mind wander to the events of the throne room in greater detail. She wanted desperately to find out what was going on there, but naturally it would prove most difficult to get closer to the Prince and the Regent to determine what that advisor was up to, but she had achieved more difficult things in the past.

It was simply another challenging bit of political maneuvering, on a new stage, which was rather refreshing to do, without all the trappings that her name usually carried when she endeavored anything back in the old Wizarding World.

Until that time that Narcissa could find a reason to return to the presence of the rulers of this nation however, she would content herself in the work she had initially been sent here for: finding housing in convenient locations for their people to spy on the human settlements in the area, and forwarding the information to those who were more closely associated with Nobu'tan.

Once reaching the offices of those in charge of distributing land to those who could afford it, Narcissa was show a registry of vacant plots of land and abandoned houses and farmsteads throughout not only Stormwind and the forest of Elywnn, but also the rolling plains of Westfall, the darker forest of Duskwood across the southern river, and the western valley of the Redridge Mountains.

Knowing that they would want to cast their net as wide as possible, Narcissa selected a large selection of areas throughout Stormwind's boarders. As part of the deal, she was able to make plans to go about and visit the many locations over the next week, before any final payments had to be made. The ones within the city she opted to investigate immediately however, knowing that the sooner they got moved into permanent residences and out of the inns and taverns all around Stormwind, the less attention they would arouse all together.

"I'd like to visit this location first," she said after making her last selection, indicating one of the addresses, located in a part of the city that was termed the 'Mage's Quarter.' From what the description said, if her reading of the Common tongue that these humans used on this world was accurate, it was a rather modest two-story home that could also be partially converted into a place of business, as many of the homes within the city were known for doing, with all the soldiers and adventurers that travelled through seeking various items.

The orderly in charge of monitoring their records nodded, calling for a young boy that was serving as a page to lead the way, and Narcissa found herself moving through the busy Trade District of the city toward the canal area.

Even as they entered the magically charge section of the city, which sported a large grassy area in the center with a tower rising over the buildings, with men and women in robes moving from place to place, speaking about all manner of things, Narcissa almost felt as though she had returned to Diagon Alley. Granted, none of the buildings came close to the elegance that had been Malfoy Manor, but there was something quaint about the modesty of the buildings, and the almost homely architecture that pervaded the area.

She had never seen the home of the Weasleys back on their home world, but the buildings here gave the same feeling that Narcissa had imagined that the large Pureblood family's dwelling must have. Surprisingly, when she laid eyes on the first location, which was near to the center ring which housed the mage tower, she felt a powerful pull towards the building on a personal level, and in her mind's eye she could see her and Lucius settling down here, relaxing in the cool summer sun while Draco visiting with some girl that he had met on his adventures our in the wide landscapes of this world.

It was not something that they would have even considered, back when the Malfoy name had so many strings attached to it with regards to pomp and prestige, but here they were just a strange family with very good taste and high standards, and if Narcissa were to dare suggest it, she felt a measure of freedom in that lack of responsibility to old fashioned Pureblood dogma.

It must have been something similar to this that had driven her sister Andromeda away from the family, to go and marry a muggleborn wizard and become a housewife, rather than pursue the future that their parents had drilled into the from the time that they were infants.

"I'll take this one," she said after a long time of just staring at the front of the small home. She felt in her heart that she made the right decision, and somehow Narcissa was sure that Lucius would love it just as much as she did, after she found furnishings and other items to make the empty building into a home truly worthy of their presence, and the love that their family had for each other.

The page, a young man scarcely older than the Prince, nodded and made a crude mark on a sheet of parchment that he had been given as they departed the offices in the Trade District, before beginning to lead the way to the next location, further in the Mage Quarter and close to a tavern that the boy seemed leery of, which had a sign reading that the establishment was named the Slaughtered Lamb. It was a crude name, but Narcissa couldn't afford to be too picky when it came to finding housing for their many human families, and she moved along to examine the location itself.

Someone of their group would be able to find a use for this location, she thought, and after making sure that there were no safety hazards or sanitation concerns, she also pledged to purchase the location as well.

For several hours she toured the city, becoming rather familiar with the streets and the flow of foot traffic within the bounds of Stormwind, acquiring a few choice locations in the various districts of the city, even a pair in the famous 'Old Town,' which were rather expensive, but well placed for their purposes.

She was still glad to be finished afterward, and after promising to return to the offices in the Trade District the next day to finalize the purchases she had selected, and schedule out when she would go to tour the locations outside the city, Narcissa retired to the inn where she was staying, with a few of the other women and children of the Earth refugees.

She told them all everything she had found, including her wonderful feelings that she had had with regards to the locations she had chosen, and it seemed to bring a measure of comfort to those who had found room in the Gilded Rose, which was rather crowded normally with adventurers staying at the city to do business with the massive bank and trading center that were both located in the same square as the inn.

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Albus Dumbledore watched the tide of demons and their corrupted allies wash over his world with a wave of sadness. There were few places where one could truly be safe from the Legion on earth anymore, and his forces were making full use of every available resource they could save from the devouring ilk.

But this, at the guidance of the Naaru K'uri, this was something that would hopefully allow them to at last take the offensive back against the demons. Surprisingly, the gateway of Avalon was one of the locations that the demons seemed to avoid at all costs, so the resistance made one of their strongholds here, fortifying what they could and proceeding to tap into the last remaining magics of their dying world to keep the fight going.

When the Naaru, who rarely left the security of the now heavily fortified and defended Hogwarts, beckoned Albus to go and free Merlin and Morgan from Avalon, to fight against the Legion, he was both surprised and shocked. They had spent so much time to defeat that woman, and in the process, they had lost their world when Nobu'tan had been allowed to move unchecked during that time, but to release her once more?

But, the Naaru had not steered them astray yet, and Albus, as now a powerful Mage and Priest of the Light, could tell that this course was the right direction for them to proceed. They needed all the help they could get, and even Morgan was a foe of the Legion. Their world was lost if they did nothing, so if she turned on them and destroyed it anyway they would just be in the same situation all over again, so he would obey.

The demons would be sure to know the moment they started to open the gateway to Avalon, and so Albus had entrusted his Generals, Sirius Black, Alastor Moody, and the young man Colin Creevey, to the defense of the small island as they called forth the Guardian to their aide.

Through the tutelage of the Naaru, they had all had their eyes opened to new possibilities in the learning of various magics, primarily that of the Light, but indeed there were others ,such as Alastor becoming very acquainted with the very elements of Earth, and commanding them to his aide, gathering great storms of lightning and molten magma to hurl at his enemies, while both Sirius and Colin had taken up weapons blessed by the light for the protection of their people, and retribution against the foul demons that encroached on their world.

But for others, there were many different paths. They had been lucky to rescue Remus Lupin from one demonic enslavement camp, where they had narrowly stopped the foul creatures from forcing the wizard professor from drinking the blood of a demon, and forever stealing him from them in the maddening rage that their foul covenant produced.

The Naaru even knew how to forever tame and control Lupin's wolf form, which was now his permanent skin that he wore, expect when he shapeshifted to various other animals and creatures, which ability he was given with the blessings of nature itself that he was given to overcome his curse.

Even as Albus thought of the man, he appeared, in his sleek and stealthy feline form, and transformed back before them. His voice was changed, gone was the soothing tenor that it had been as a man, replaced with a harsher gravel that was the mixing of wolf and man vocal cords, "They know that something is about to happen," he said, reporting his mission of scouting the surrounding area for signs of the Legion. "They have all manner of forces just waiting for the right signal to attack."

"Then here is where we must make a stand," Albus concluded, turning back to the exact spot where he knew the rift between their world and Avalon existed, "We must wake the Guardian, and unleash Avalon once more into this world, it will buy us all more time to fight the Legion."

"Whatever you wish, Albus," Sirius declared, unsheathing his sword and readying his shield, "We will fight to the bitter end to push these demons from our world."

"Then we shall begin." Albus affirmed, turning to the group of mage-priests that had gathered at his call, including many from Hermione Granger's old group, and the young woman herself, who all had been busily etching rune around the location of the portal, so that they could begin the ritual to open Avalon.

"It is ready," she stated simply, the Light within her singing its ferocious desire to fight the Legion.

"Everyone to your positions," Albus instructed, even as their defenders ran to the perimeter, and the first sounds of the demonic advance began.

Calling their mutual powers to this world, Albus channeled the Arcane, even as he beckoned the Holy light to shine upon them, weaving the storm of magic from this world and beyond into the air, forming the key that would undo the Fel seals placed so many years ago by Nobu'tan.

They would tear that vile magic away from the gateway, and unleash the forces of nature upon the demons once again.

However, even as their holy ritual began, Albus could sense the approach of the demonic forces, eager to tear them apart and prevent their goal, even if it meant approaching that place that they had thus far avoided. Colin Creevey was shouting his commands, even as flares of magic, both Holy, Arcane and Fel alike, flew in every direction.

Albus was facing away from the battle, and for that small detail he was grateful. It tore at his heart to watch his forces battle the Legion, all the more when he was absorbed in a delicate ritual that he could not depart from to aide and protect them with his magic and healing. Restraining his desperation and concentrating at the task at hand, Albus drove onward, incanting the words of Light and the Arcane that would activate the gateway to sacred Avalon, as well as purge the Fel locking the way from their reunion with Merlin.

With a surge of Holy fire, raining down from above, Albus sensed the Fel seal that Nobu'tan had placed so long ago melt away like dross in the face of a furnace. And with the darkness purged away, Albus was surprised to find that the doorway sprang open with a vengeance, and the towering figure on the other side, his eye glowing with indignation was Merlin.

Even as he stepped forward, a darkness flared to life behind him, and Albus could sense that Morgan was already free, striding out side by side with him. "From within we could sense the approach of the Legion," Merlin explained, "and we have already come to the conclusion that the world is in far more peril than we could stand. We stand ready to fight, with all the forces of Avalon at our side!"

Raiding his arms to the sky, the portal surged wide open, and Albus could see through into the sacred land, which looked like a more perfect reflection of the way things had been before the Legion appeared. From every shadow under those emerald trees, figures emerged, creatures that Albus had only heard of in myth and tales, both muggle and wizarding.

Merlin raised his plain oaken staff, pointing it toward the advancing line of demons, already well engaged with their forces, "Smite the defilers of the land!" he roared, and as one the armies of Avalon shouted their challenge and reply, charging forward upon foot and hoof, root and wing, even as a myriad of creatures that Albus had only dreamed of seeing surged forward, the natural world springing to life once more around the edges of the portal as they crossed back into the world of mortals.

Albus turned, seeing that they had arrived not a moment too soon. Colin and Sirius were already locked in deadly combat with a Pit Lord, while Alastor and several others exchanged a deadly display of magic with several Eredar conjurers and warlocks, the vile fiends using their horrific magic to tear the land asunder under their feet.

Merlin seemed to rise in the midst of them all, his eyes glowing with fire and lightning, even as he raised a hand to the heavens. Stormclouds, black and terrible gathered at his beckoning, and a mighty wind surged from all directions as the elements of the earth answered the call of the Guardian of Avalon. "Storm, Earth and Fire, heed my call!" Merlin chanted, even as great spikes of molten earth erupted around them, skewering various demons and their evil allies where they stood, and lightning crashed upon others, frying them in an instant.

The creatures of Avalon poured through the ranks of the defenders of Earth, countering the Demonic advance and breaking their lines, pressing them backward to the defense, and allowing the forces of humanity a moment's reprieve to rest and heal their wounded with the grace of the Light.

Albus turned, and spied even Morgan tending to the injured, although her manner of healing was most unusual. She wielded the power of the shadows, this Albus knew, and that it drastically opposed the Light in every way and form, but even as she mended wounds with it, Albus could tell that they had more to lose than by allying with such a one as her.

She was but one woman, whom they had defeated before, whereas the Legion was infinite, and a threat that would not depart until they drove them from their world, one Fel portal at a time.

"There is no time to lose," Merlin said, reappearing at Albus' side, "The forces of Avalon will not linger here long before they must return to their own realm, and they will guard this place forevermore from the Legion, so long as there is life upon this world free of their malice. Meanwhile, we must withdraw to your fortress, and plan for the continued assault that is sure to come in retaliation."

Albus nodded, understanding that the they would not be gaining an overwhelming advantage in the long term from the natural world, however they had gained a victory. It wouldn't have been long before the Legion attacked the locked portal to try and destroy it and seal the Guardian in forever.

With the aid of both Merlin and Morgan, they would have a chance to hold out even longer. Presumably K'uri was hinting that there was only a limit amount of time that they needed to hold out before something arrived, some sort of reinforcements from out in the Nether. What that comprised of, Albus did not know, but whatever it was, he was more than willing to hold out as long as needed to meet these reinforcements that had been fighting against the Legion for years, if not millennia.

"Prepare portals and Portkeys, while the armies of Avalon have them on the defensive." Albus commanded. Swirls of blue enveloped around the battlefield as their warrior departed back to base, and Albus himself conjured the portal required to take them back to the safety of Hogwarts.

Albus was about to offer for Merlin to go on ahead, but Morgan strode through the pair of them, "What a gentleman…" she said sarcastically as she stepped through the portal, and Albus shared a meaningful look with Merlin. Despite their predicament, and the fact that she was on their side this time, nothing would change about the vindictive nature of the woman. She had clearly not forgotten nor forgave their involvement with her recapture after Nobu'tan had released her.

"She's held longer grudges…" Merlin said with a shrug as he entered the portal, "you get used to it after a few decades…"

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Nobu'tan returned multiple times to try and wring more information out of Rend Blackhand, and to his credit he was able to at least hash out a small plan of distraction out of the orc, once he sobered up and was thinking more clearly.

The orcs and their allies within the Horde would continue their vigil in the lower parts of Blackrock spire, and on word from their Warchief they would fight back against the dragonkin only after the knowledge that Nefarias was defeated would they strike, which Nobu'tan felt was rather ungrateful of them to still lack trust in the Stormreavers, but he could understand that they were still newly made members of the Horde, and therefore there would be a period of building their reputation.

What he was able to get out of the Warchief however, was a quick method to reach the higher areas of the mountain, where the majority of the powerful dragonkin and those closest to the human remained. Apparently, there was a magical orb that would transport them to the higher levels without having to traverse through the areas that the orcs, trolls and ogres monitored and protected.

This pleased Nobu'tan greatly, and he had checked profusely that the same group that had ventured into the bowels of the mountain were ready to take on the challenges that awaited freeing the peak, and securing the Horde's control of the mountain in totality.

They would need approximately another day to prepare for the assault of the mountaintop, and the warlocks were all enwrapped in creating items to protect them from dragonfire, as even though they had no true dragons to be concerned with, the drakes and dragonkin had the same abilities, to lesser power, and the more they prevented their people from getting injured, the less strain of their priests and shaman to heal them.

Nobu'tan desperately wanted to avoid another situation where he feared one of his trusted would actually fall, like Lucius had against the Firelord. Only the quick thinking of the goblin priest had saved him, but it was something that the orc-raised human felt that they could have avoided with more preparation.

So they would go cautiously this time, and make sure that they sent as many disposable demons ahead of their actual forces, to risk as little as possible as they claimed the rest of Blackrock for the Horde.

Then, and only then, would Nobu'tan have the leverage he needed to get all the answers from Warchief Rend he desired. The orc would sing the tune that the warlock demanded, or else the fool might find himself disposed far quicker than he had even expected. Nobu'tan could easily find another that could rally the Horde to move as he willed, much as Gul'dan placed Blackhand on the throne in the first place so long ago.