This chapter heavily resisted being written, but the long-awaited beginning of the cataclysm has begun. please enjoy, and drop a comment if desired. ~F
Chapter 191
The Earth Trembles
Sylvanas looked over the narrow pass that led south into the foothills of Hillsbrad, cold eyes watching the ranks of mindless undead that her people had been herding southward from the Plaguelands.
Stage one of her plan was going very well. While emptying the Plaguelands of the formerly Scourge controlled undead down into the region in front of Thoradin's wall, the Forsaken were freed to be able to take control of the old fortifications and continue embedding themselves into the ruins of western Lordaeron.
Transportation of their reserves of the undead plague had been completed to Stratholme, and Helcular had a new faction of tightly controlled necromancers starting up their coven in the ancient cathedral of the city.
Despite her desire to send these undead ahead of her armies to try and crash back into Arathi, she was smarter than the other brutes currently warring in Kalimdor. She had sent a token force in response to the demands of the Warchief to deal with the assault on Thunder Bluff, but the distraction was perfect for the beginning of the next stage of her plan to retake the whole of northern Lordaeron.
She was now aware of a rogue faction of worgen that had been forced out of Silveprine by the advance of the Dark Horde, and with minimal urging had pressured them southward into Gilnaeas, where they were sure to cause havoc and pave the way for the Forsaken's eventual assault of the region. With this undead wall blocking any overland march of the Dark Horde, she would have the buffer and time needed to be able to smoke out their own pet wolves as well as assault the Greymane Wall to remove the last traces of living humanity from the western part of the upper continent.
"Everything goes even as you have commanded, my Queen," Arthura said, the Valkyr winging its way to land beside the Dark Lady. "The mindless have been weaponized, and we are starting to raise you an army to push southward."
"The worgen curse may stop us from raising our enemies," Sylvanas said, thinking of the hurtles ahead, "but with the long dead of Lordaeron at our command, we ought to have numbers and to spare to breech the wall and break their defenses."
"My sisters Agatha and Daschla are prepared, alongside myself, to lead the assault of Gilnaeas," the winged undead affirmed, but Sylvanas frowned. She would have preferred for Nathanos to take more of a lead in that campaign, but his expertise was needed in Stratholme, keeping the newly raised workers in line and making sure that the Forsaken's fallback plan went unseen and smoothly.
The last thing she wanted at this time was some pesky paladins from either the Argent Crusade or the Scarlet Onslaught getting wind of what she was really planning.
In due time, everything from the southern edge of Quel'thalas to the northern boarders of Ironforge would belong to her and the Forsaken, and none of the living would be able to interfere with her plans for revenge on all those who had wronged her and her people.
…The Stormreaver…
Garrosh felt nothing but rage in his heart, and the desperate thrum of war drums in his ears. And despite it all, he felt a cold ice controlling his thoughts, rather than the sweeping anger that normally would carry him through battle. Riding at the head of the Alliance column, they swiftly exited the marshes and turned northwest, heading with all speed possible to flank the Grimtotem as they assaulted the Mulgore pass. The crackle of thunder ahead told him all he needed toknow about the present of Thrall and other shaman, as well as Magatha herself.
He would present her head as wergild to Baine, for the death of his father by the Grimtotem. Throwing his head back, he bellowing a shrieking warcry as the Alliance force came into view of the battling groups in the narrow valley.
Thrall had picked the place of the battle well. The pass was extremely narrow, and prevented their defenders from getting flanked by all except air forces, which the Grimtotem lacked. Meanwhile, the Horde had plenty of high ground on the mountain spurs on either side, for ranged warriors and magic users to rain projectiles and spells on their foes. Adding to that Garrosh's arrival to seal the trap between the two forces, the Grimtotem were doomed.
The closest line of the black fur tauren whirled as Garrosh slammed into them with his Alliance cavalry. Gorehowl screamed through the air as it cleaved horned heads from their bodies, and Garrosh permitted his savage anger its desired outlet.
"Lok'tar Ogar!" he bellowed, and felt more than saw even the Alliance warriors spurred forward by the sight of their enemies. "For Kalimdor!"
Theramore mages took positions at the exit of the pass, and channeled their magic into a mighty wall of ice, sealing in any attempt at escape, and slowly started to move it forward. The mighty glacier would be the final move to destroy all chance of the Grimtotem escaping justice for their actions. It would push them into the blades of Thrall's forces, even if Garrosh and the other Alliance fighters failed.
But he had no intentions of allowing that to happen.
Swinging his father's axes in wide circles, Garrosh tore through the ranks of the Grimtotem with deadly precision, his eyes seeking the chief target of his ire. Magatha Grimtotem was near the center of her forces, surrounded by the strongest of her elite guards like the coward she was. Earthen magic wafted from her hands, enhancing those protecting her with the shaman magic that poured freely from the land around them, and the bodyguards formed a solid wall of armored bodies to hinder Garrosh from reaching her.
What they were not expected, however, was for Garrosh to stop short of engaging them, and the Alliance Cavalry to thunder around him, slamming into the lines of Tauren with heavily armored riders and mounts.
"Push forward!" he shouted, before dismounting his wolf, and following in the wake of the charge, killing several of the Grimtotem that had been knocked down by the hulking bodies of the horses.
"Grimtotem!" he shouted, seeing the eyes of Magatha turned toward him from the magic she was chanting, "Your head will be mine!"
The Mag'har relished the momentary looking of panic in the Elder Crones eyes before she returned to chanting her magic, and she was lost in the sea of bovine bodies as her elite warriors encircled her once more.
It was then that the earth rumbled, and from the midst of the Tauren lines a massive earthen form rose, rocks orbiting around it as it turned to survey the battle. "Of course, elementals…" Garrosh said, angrily. He had little desire to fight the very forces of nature in this battle, but come what may, he would see this battle to the end.
By Saurfang the Younger, he swore it.
…The Stormreaver…
Narcissa wiped sweat from her brow as she waved her wand once more over the injured Tauren's form. Baine Bloodhoof had been far more injured than he had been willing to let on, and by the time they had returned to Theramore had collapsed completely.
The warriors and Med'an had carried the bolvine form to one of the guest rooms at the edge of the town, and Narcissa, as the only among them that had extensive healer training from their world, had set to work curing the most dire of injuries, even as priests were summoned from the chapel to heal the son of the fallen Tauren leader.
Draco and Lady Proudmoore stood outside, fielding any questions from others that came to investigate the commotion, and both Anduin and Lucisu were off distracting Aurora, but Narcissa was sure that her daughter could sense the urgency of the matter and would fuss all the more until she understood.
Looking over the many wounds, Narcissa knew that there was only so much that she could do, as the deepest and direr injuries were well beyond even her skill, as she had focused on the sorts of injuries that young children would be capable of to tend to her family, not full battle wounds.
"Mommy!" Aurora cried, darting inside before Draco could stop her, "Tauren man big hurt?"
"Aurora," Anduin's voice came from the door, but Narcissa could not stop her daughter at that time, she was concentrating to seal shut several gaping lacerations that would not stop bleeding openly, regardless of the spells she was trying.
Her big eyes wide as she saw the reality of the injuries that Bloodhoof sported, Aurora patted the hairy arm. Anduin arrived, but stopped short of taking her arm as he too saw the level of injure their patient bore. "The Light can heal all wounds," he said, laying a hand on the Tauren. Narcissa felt the magic pulse from the young boy, pure and bright, as it too worked alongside her own to mend wounds and keep the Tauren in the land of the living. But Anduin was young, and his power was still growing, and he could not harness what was needed either.
"I'm not strong enough," Anduin said, starting to withdraw his hand, but they all froze, when a jolt of magic filled the room with warmth.
Turning, Narcissa was shocked to see the eyes of her little Aurora turn bright gold as healing magic flooded through her, raw and undirected. "She has no control," she said, urging Anduin, "Guide her magic to where it needs to go."
Anduin wasted no time, taking the little girl's hand and holding it over the Tauren's body. Narcissa suppressed the shudder as magic rolled off her daughter in waves, curing, mending, and binding together all the hurts that the Tauren had, restoring him to perfect health as a child's faith was merged with the overwhelming magical affinity that their people had in this land.
Baine gasped as he returned to consciousness, sitting up without a flicker of strain or even exhaustion that he had before. "I… where am I, my father…" he said, looking around in confusion.
"Peace, Baine Bloofhoof," Anduin said, catching the attention of the Tauren, "You are in Theramore, where you arrived to pass the message of your people's plight to Garrosh Hellscream. He has taken Allaince warriors and gone to aid your people, and you collapsed. You're healed now."
"I can see that," the Tauren said, feeling a muscle and rolling his shoulders in relieved surprise, "I must return, my people need to know that I have survived."
"Normally I would advise against a quick return to battle," Narcissa chimed in, "but in your case, I believe that you are correct."
The Tauren turned grateful eyes to her momentarily before rising and exiting the inn room.
"Baine, you're healed?" Jaina said, turning to watch as the four of them exited the building, "but how?"
"Faith in the Light," Anduin said, smiling at Aurora momentarily, although Narcissa did not have the heart to correct the prince, she highly suspected it had less to do with faith and more with latent magical talent.
"Lady Proudmoore, as much as I do not wish to ask more of you than had already been placed on your shoulders, but I need to get back to my people swiftly, to establish that the Bloodhoofs still live, and Magatha has failed in her design to usurp my father's legacy."
The Sorceress looked concernedly at Narcissa, and only at her nod is allowance smiled abck at the Tauren, "If you're sure, I will gladly open a portal to the edge of Mulgore and escort you to Thunder Bluff."
"I will go too," Draco said, and Narcissa saw the fire in her son's eyes. His protective nature, so like his father's, was flaring up whenever he was near Lady Proudmoore, and Narcissa was very pleased about the continued interaction, albeit she had promised that she would refrain from casually mentioning it anymore.
"We will send word when the battle is over," Draco said, drawing his wand and waiting expectantly as Jaina opened a shimmering blue portal. Baine was the first through with another nod of thanks to Narcissa, followed quickly by the others.
Shortly afterward, Lucius returned with Med'an, "I've charted our ship back to Stormwind, but it won't be until the end of the week before it sails." He reported, "Too many sailors followed Garrosh to battle, and they need to return and rest before the captain is confident setting sail."
"And now our son has too gone to protect the land, again." Narcissa answered, but she didn't feel the need to fret. Draco had proved himself more than capable time and again, overcoming everything that had been thrown against them in this land.
…The Stormreaver…
Moira had been growing more and more concerned over the days since her father and uncle had started researching the Tablet of Ulduar. Shaman from the Wildhammer clan had come, speaking of a great disturbance among the elements, but also carrying the permission from the High Thanes for the Dark Irons to settle in Grim Batol if they participated if the retaking of the fortress.
While the details of how the ritual was conducted was detailed and clear, there seemed to be no information on the results of the ceremony outside a vague line about 'connecting to the roots of the mountains' which is her opinion could mean just about anything.
In spite of her warnings, and spurred on by the elemental unrest in their lands, including massive earthquakes that had damage many of their people's homes in the time she had been gone to Stormwind, Magni himself had volunteered to enact the ritual, to try and find the answers to why things had been happening with such frequency across the world.
They had been seeking out what information they could, and had heard about the tremors had spread as far as the Night Elven home of Teldrassil. And it was affecting Horde lands as well, droughts in Durotar, and more spreading across the entire world.
And so they had made preparations, deep in the heart of the mountain where the oldest homes of their people had once been had, before they moved further toward the surface and made contact with the other races. High Priest Rohan had been included, as well as several other members of the Explorer's League, who had all pitched in with translating the tablet to their mutual satisfaction.
Now that they knew what the words of the ritual were, they had created a potion out of mountain silversage, black lotus, ghost mushroom, and a pinch of the soil of this place, the place which nourished them. This supposedly was the key, along with the words in the Earthen language, that would open one to becoming one with the mountain.
Moira looked on as her father consumed the strange potion, before raising his arms above his head, his voice ringing out to be heard echoing across the diamonds of the mountain's heart.
"Within me is the earth itself. We are one. I am of it and it of me. I listen for the mountain's reply," he said solemnly, and they all stood motionless in the silence that followed.
For a fleeting moment, Moira breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that nothing would happen, but then Mangi threw his head back in seeming sudden pain and agony. The Light rang out with the strange wrongness of her father's transformation, even as Moira watched as the King of Ironforge changed into a solid statue of diamond.
Their horror was multiplied as the ground around them rumbled violently short after, throwing many from their feet and sending tremors throughout the whole of Ironforge above them.
"Father, what have we done?" Moira said, even as they soon heard the alarms of warning from above, and cries of their people as they were hit with the devastating quakes. "Quick we must return and protect our people," she declared, against even her desire to stand in shock of what had just happened. But as a Queen and now acting leader of her people, Moira Bronzebeard Tharussian had to protect both clans of dwarves from whatever dangers were crashing through their home.
…The Stormreaver…
Thrall recoiled at the surge of elemental power that the Elder Crone called to her peoples aid. The towering elemental was one threat, but the aftershocks that rippled through the elements were something that worried him all the more.
But he could not let the fear of what may happen cloud his judgement upon the battlefield. The Alliance horns on the far side told him that Garrosh had taken to the field, alongside warriors from Theramore, and he needed to bring the hammer down upon the anvil they were providing.
The sooner Grimtotem was dead, the sooner they could turn their attention to the aftermath of her power grab and the echoes in the elements that it caused.
"Lok'tar Ogar! For the Horde!" he bellowed, urging his Kor'kron onward, and alongside Saurfang they charged into the thick of the black furred tauren arrayed against them. With a mighty throw, Thrall sent the Doomhammer flying, the charged weapon spinning madly as it struck with lightning at the opening ranks of their enemies.
The knot of Grimtotem it struck were thrown backward, opening the way for his guards to plunge into the ranks of the foes, driving the tip of the Horde's wedge into their lines, and starting to crack their defensive formation.
Nearing Magatha and her ring of elite guards, as well as several Grimtotem Shaman, Thrall summoned back the Doomhammer, readying himself for the final push to take the old cow's head.
But a burst of magic from the shaman heralded a new device to keep them away from the Elder Crone, even as earthen magic wove around the guards ahead of them, bolstering them with the power of the earth. They shook the ground as they stomped their challenge, and charged against the Kor'kron, the force of their attacks pushing them back.
"Lok'narosh!" boomed a new voice, even as a familiar axe swung into the path of one of the nearer Tauren. Garrosh had arrived, having circled around the elite warriors to join with Thrall and Saurfang.
"The elemental is keeping the way for their escape open," he informed Thrall, "even if we reach Magatha, she will attempt to flee."
Thrall cursed, hatred for the wily old Tauren surging anew in his mind. They were forced to abandon the direct path and needed to retain their advantage by once again sealing their escape.
Just then, the Grimtotem broke through their formation, and one leapt at Thrall directly before he could raise the Doomhammer.
A beam of sinister green magic struck the empowered Tauren and threw him back, instantly dead as the dark magic touched it.
"Ishne'alo'porah!" boomed a new voice, even as Arcane magic surged around Thrall, Garrosh, and the others. Water elementals surged forward, coating the ground in ice and frost to make travel for their enemies difficult.
"Baine…" Garrosh said, looking in the direction of the newest arrivals to fight at their side. With the young heir of the Bloodhoofs were Jaina Proudmoore and Draco Malfoy, the two humans eyeing the battle around them in concern.
"It is good to see you," Thrall said, sparing a moment to glance at the young Tauren and check that he was unharmed. Seemingly he was, and his presence on the battlefield would be invaluable to defeat any claim that Magatha might try to use to usurp control of the other Tauren Clans.
"I see that Magatha is up to her old trick," Baine said, assessing the situation with the towering elemental preventing them from closing the trap and pin the Grimtotem in the mountain pass. "Where will you want us?"
"I need you to bait Magatha into staying put, while we send other to take out her elemental and close any chance of her escape," Thrall said, "Garrosh, I want you to lead this group to prevent her escape."
"Yes, Warchief," the Warsong Chieftain replied, before hefting his axe and charging off to return to the far side of the battle, his warsong blaring as he shrieked the cry of his father.
"Are you up for this Baine?" Thrall asked, turning to the young newly made leader of the Bloodhoof.
"Yes, Warchief," the young Tauren said, hefting up his father's runespear and stepping heavily forward, "and I know what will keep Magatha here without any fear of escape…"
Then, raising his voice to boom over the din of battle, Baine roared, "Magatha Grimtotem! I challenge Mak'gora!"
Those fighting closest to them ceased, staring in shock at the challenge of single combat, before as one all eyes turned to the Grimtotem Elder Crone, who glared daggers at Baine. Thrall could see that her mind was whirling on how to escape the trap presented before her, but there was no chance of it. Her people respected power and honor, even in their hatred of other races. For her to flee from a direct challenge of power would be the ultimate show of cowardice.
In the end, she was forced to accept, and stepped forward, lightning crackling on the end of her staff. "I will sweep you away, young one, and I will take command of all Tuaren in Kalimdor. We will leave your Horde and return to the old ways," she declared, stating her terms.
"And when I finally remove our people of the stain of our honor," Baine shot back, "the Grimtotem will forevermore join the Horde, serving to further the ends of our path forward, upon pain of exile and death."
Those nearest moved back to create a ring of bodies around the combatants, preparing for the duel to come, "Warchief, will you witness me," Baine asked, and Thrall nodded.
One of the burlier Grimtotem Shaman stepped forward to witness for Magatha, and without a word or signal they squared off, Magatha starting by dashing to the side, lightning pouring from her free hands at Baine.
Bellowing his challenge,. Baine charged, shouldering the elemental magic or batting it aside with his father's Runespear.
Thrall felt the presence of his old friend and imagined that Cairne was watching his son closely in this moment, even as the young war brave faced down his murderer.
And yet, even as the two combatants locked up, spear and staff clashing in a flurry of strikes that even he was not aware the old Crone was capable of, the elements rang out in horror and pain to Thrall, forcing him to place a hand to his head in physical pain. Just what was going on in the heart of their world?
…The Stormreaver…
Draco watched as the duel between Baine Bloodhoof and Magatha Grimtotem spurred into a furious tempo. Blasts of magic and flurries of strikes were unleashed from the Grimtotem Shaman, her ability in physical combat coming as a shock to even her own people.
The two Tuaren had mostly stopped all of the battle around them, as they all respected the honor duel as something akin to a sacred rite. Personally, Draco had half a mind to violate it and strike Magatha down now, just to end the distraction and allow himself and Jaina to leave, but he knew that would cause far more problems than solve them.
The one exception to the cessation of the fighting was the hulking earth elemental, which continued its wild rampage, and a conjoined effort of the Warsong leader and the Theramore warriors were trying to subdue it.
But the rumblings of the earth were something more than just the hulk behind them or the fight before them, and slowly Draco understood that a rising earthquake was forming somewhere far away, and it concerned him that they could feel the tremors shaking the ground beneath them.
"Thrall, what is it," Jaina said, placing her hand on the Warchief's arm as the orc raised a hand to his head as though in pain.
"The Elements are crying out…" he said slowly, "Something terrible is happening."
"Should we stop the fight?" Draco suggested, but the orc grunted his disagreement.
"There is no stopping this. The enmity between the Bloodhoof and the Grimtotem has to be ended here and now, or it will continue forever." The Orc shaman said.
Fortunately for them, it seemed that the duel was not going to last particularly long. Despite the surprise of her combat prowess, Magatha was still significantly older than Baine, and magic or no magic, the young warrior was still at his peak and was swiftly outmaneuvering the Elder Crone.
As soon as she started to tire, Baine delivered a devastating strike, knocking Magatha's staff away and knocking the old Tauren to the ground.
"It is over, Grimtotem," Baine said, standing over her and raising the Runespear.
"You have no idea whether this is ended or not, calf…" Magatha said, even as a new jolt of force rang through the ground beneath them all. The towering earth elemental fell with a resounding crash. "What is coming is well beyond your ability to even comprehend."
Whether her words were making any impact on the other Tauren, Draco did not know, as he stood poised there; ready to deliver a fatal blow.
The ground lurched violently, even as the Warchief yelled in surprise and pain. Nearly everyone was thrown to the ground across the battlefield as something massive erupted into the sky far in the distance, over the ocean.
"What could it be," Draco breathed aloud, watching as the streaking ball of ash and fire soaring into the sky turned and started speeding toward them at a frightening pace, great wings spread to either side like clouds.
"Deathwing…" came the weakened voice of Thrall, even as the Warchief fought himself back to his feet, "The elements are in pain because of him. Something is terribly wrong."
"MAGATHA!" roared Baine, turning all attention back to where he and the Grimtotem Crone had been. But the female Tauren had all but vanished, escaping when they. "COWARD! OATHBREAKER! I CURSE YOU AND ANY LOYAL ENOUGH TO FOLLOW YOU STILL!" he raged, pointing the runespear at the remaining Grimtotem.
"I, as chieftain of the Bloodhoof, and leader of Thunderbluff of the Horde demand the Grimtotem surrender to the will of the Horde, and join your forces with us. Any who refuse will be exiled from out lands, and death will be upon any who join with the traitor Magatha."
Many of the Grimtotem kneeled in submission, but most of the ground forces were still watching the speeding fireball as it drew closer and closer. "We need to get all these warriors back to their homes, to prepare for what is to come," Jaina said, arcane magic flaring around her, even as Thrall started to call for the Horde warriors to fall back to their position, ushered by the honor guard of the Warchief.
"Go, and prepare Orgrimmar for whatever chaos is coming!" Thrall shouted, even as Orc, Trolls, and other members of the Horde poured through the gateway Jaina opened, while Tauren back back along the road toward their plateau-city.
Once the Horde was managing their own portal from the Orgrimmar side, Jaina opened another to Theramore, and her people started to withdraw to their own nation, to prepare for whatever was coming with the advent of the massive dragon barreling toward them.
…The Stormreaver…
Nobu'tan was disappointed.
His plan of having the Grimtotem destroy themselves completely at the hand of the Horde had been interrupted, as if by fate, with the advent of another seemingly worldwide catastrophe.
Even as his forces prepared to deal with the logistics of invading Grim Batol, he had been watching the battle unfolding in the Barrens with great interest, even as all of Magatha's plans unraveled in her haste of wanting revenge on her enemy the Bloodhoof Tauren.
But now with all forces withdrawing, and Magatha's fate unknown in her cowardly flight from the battle, the Grimtotem were now shattered in three groups rather than fleeing into his arms en mass.
Still, there was a silver lining. Many of the Grimtotem would now be disgusted with Magatha's lack of honor, and while unwilling to join Thrall's Horde, they might consider his.
But that was a question to have later on. Now his eye was speeding across the ocean toward the swiftly approaching being of destruction, trying desperately to ascertain where the monstrous dragon had come from.
Judging from the direction and the speed at which the beast was approaching, he could only guess that it was somewhere in the massive storm at the center of the world, which he only knew was called the Maelstrom.
What concerned him more was the immediately reaction of the surface of the ocean as the massive dragon raced toward the shore.
It was not merely waves that were being generated, but full force tsunamis flowing in its wake, heading back toward the Eastern Kingdoms.
"My Lord!" shouted a voice, seemingly distant, and Nobu'tan grunted as he forcefully dismissed the eye, returning to Blackrock and present matters.
"What is it…" he said, equal measures annoyed and concerned by the tone of the guard's voice.
"The volcano is becoming unstable, with the tremors. The shamans are concerned that it might try to erupt right under us." The guard said nervously.
"Show me," Nobu'tan said, following quickly through the tunnels of the mountain.
…The Stormreaver…
Lucius was doing what he could to prevent a panic.
Waves were crashing at the harbor, preventing any ships from coming or going, and the terrible creature was drawing nearer by the second. He wanted to take his family and escape, but they couldn't apparate at the distances needed to get safely back to Stormwind.
It was just as he was returning to the tower that he spotted the portal opening in the middle of the main plaza, Alliance soldiers charging through and scattering back to their homes. Jaina and Draco appeared as Lucius approached. "We need to get Aurora and Narcissa back to Stormwind," he told her swiftly, "It's not safe here any longer."
Jaina nodded, and together they started back toward the tower. Lucius felt his heart start to ease with the solution so near, before he lifted his head and saw red sparks flying into the air from the tower. Yells and blasts of magic were already erupting around the location as they looked on in dawning horror.
"Mother," Draco said.
"Aurora!" Lucius yelled, not even thinking as he apparated to the outside of the tower.
Coldly Lucius took in the situation within moments. His wife and daughter under attack from wielders of void magic, wearing the colors of the Twilight Cult, as well as Med'an holding his own, and the Death Eater in Lucius awoke with a vengeance.
Cold calculation took control, and he abandoned all pretense of mercy.
"Avada Kedavera," he said calmly, striking down the nearest fool that was approaching his wife, before he spun out of the way of the shadow bolts that return his way in response.
Curses, both wizarding and Fel in origin flew from his hands and wand, spreading torment across all those who stood against him.
Across the sparking battle, his wife was faring no worse. Lucius had entered their marriage knowing full well the dangers of crossing his wife, as all the daughters of the House of Black had been more than taught in the ways of combat magic, and Narcissa was, while the gentlest of her sisters, no less deadly when pushed to it.
"Take them, Lord Cho'Gall commands it. The children of prophecy will advent the Hour of Twilight!" one of the lead cultists demanded, urging forward their comrades.
Lucius' blood ran cold at the wretched name. He had been told extensively about the leader of the cultists by Lord Nobu'tan. Whatever scheme that the mad ogre had for them would happen over his cold body.
Apparently, Med'an was of the same opinion, as the mention of the name was enough to send him into a destructive frenzy of magic. Loght, Elements, and the Arcane washed off the young part orc's body in waves, becoming a literal firestorm of magic the succeeded in driving their enemies in all directions.
"Take Aurora and go," Lucius commanded, even as he flicked his wand in the appropriate dueling salute, marching toward the doomsday cultist with the intent for none of them to survive this day.
"Lord Terrath," said the male orcish leader, "We have be warned about the magic of your world, and how to combat it…" the orc actually drew a wand from within his robes, "more so, how to recreate it…"
"Imitation is all well and good," Lucius said, pointing his wand at the orc, who mirrored the motion, "but let us see if you have the aptitude to be as bold as your words…"
The orc surprised him by striking first, sending a dark purple curse that had to be in part wizarding magic, twisted by the magic of their Old Gods.
A shield snapped into place around him at a gesture, and Lucius had already moved, apparating for a better vantage, and began raining spells upon the orc.
"I have learned your words of power, human from another world, and you will know me before your demise," the orc stated, "I am Lord Kelris, and now you will meet your end."
"Avada Kedavera," the orc bellowed, sending the deadly curse flying at Lucius, who was too stunned to do anything but watch as it flew toward him.
The magic impacted a suddenly raised earthen wall, exploding into a rain of dust and pebbles. Lady Aegwynn had appeared, and magic was the plaything of the Magna of old.
She waded into the fray, always a step ahead of the bolts of magic that Kelris flung at her, surpassing even Lucius' expectations for a woman of her age.
"Your time has ended, former Guardian," the orc said, smirking as he flicked his improvised wand over and over, drawing more magic power from himself as he went.
Lucius could see that for the orc it was a losing battle. These Azerothian's had no concept of magical exhaustion, but that which fueled the wizarding magic did not come from an unlimited source.
Even now, moments into the duel with the Magna, Lucius could see the orc slowing down, his spells losing their edge. But at the same time, he was growing more desperate, and resorting to more powerful and deadly curses and spells.
Apparating once more, Lucius intercepted the next spell with one of his own, allowing the magic to become a battle of wills between himself and the orc, shimmering gold as the wands were joined.
Or it would have been, if Aegwynn didn't use the opportunity to shatter the orc where he stood.