Lost Lion
Disclaimer! I don't own wow, Blizz does and your soul too!
Volume 3: Chapter 16
*** Dun Morogh – Outskirts of Laughing Skull Territories (Formerly Kharanos) ***
"Huff... huff..." I panted slightly as we continued to run.
Looking back, I saw our pursuers were now little more than dots in the distance. The Horde had started at a dead sprint, eager to chase us down, but they were quick to realize we were matching their pace. Thanks to the stamina buff I'd granted the dwarves, the orcs tired out long before we did, allowing us to maintain a safe distance. However, we couldn't afford to let them think they'd lost us entirely, so we eased into a more manageable pace, somewhere between a jog and a run.
We kept a vigilant eye out for their mounted forces, but for some reason, no wolf riders appeared to pursue us. Either they lacked any or they had other plans.
Glancing at my pocket watch, I saw that two hours had passed since we first started this retreat. One more hour to go until we reach our destination.
"Remember to pace yourselves, and let us know if you can't continue!" I called out between breaths.
"Aye, Commander!"
"I've run farther fer Brewfest!"
"I cae do this all day!"
The replies came with scattered laughter, lifting the mood despite our situation.
The dwarves sounded like they were having fun even. Then again, these weren't Ironforge regulars. Some even began to talk about bar hopping once they defeat the orcs. It was clearly a case of counting chickens before they hatch, but dwarves were known for their resilience, both physically and mentally.
"Commander!" Sicco suddenly shouted, his tone laced with concern. "Zeppelins!"
'They're here!' I thought, heart racing.
It had always been a toss-up whether the goblins would send their flying ships after us. Their presence was both good and bad news: good because the more we pulled away their air forces from Ironforge, the better; bad because we now had to deal with them ourselves.
"How many?" I called out loud enough for Sicco to hear.
"At least twenty-five!" the gnome regent replied. He had set his walker to autopilot and turned to act as our spotter. "And they're closing in fast!"
Oh.
That was definitely more than I'd expected. Still, I'd accounted for this possibility so it felt manageable. It wasn't so many that it was overwhelming.
"Everyone, prepare yourselves!" I roared. "We've got goblin flyers incoming!"
Normally, I'd prefer for as many zeppelins as possible to get into range before engaging, but that would mean taking a few hits first. While the goblins had air superiority, they still needed to get close enough to counter the time lag of long-distance attacks. Their airships, much like the gnomes', were somewhere between Earth's Wright brothers' first flight and pre-World War I air combat in terms of capability.
Thankfully, Brann's intel on the goblins had given me a head start. I had shared some ideas with the gnomes for crafting something that would give the goblins some pause. Now, we would see if those ideas paid off.
"You got our surprise ready?" I asked, breathing heavily between words. At my question, dozens of mechas swiveled their upper bodies at a perfect one hundred and eighty degrees, their feet still moving forward in sync.
"Distance, Sicco?"
"They just passed the orcs!" Sicco called back.
"Anti-air units, ready your weapons!" I ordered. The extra gnomes riding the mechas scrambled to push their payloads into the modified barrels of the machines' main guns.
In what I sarcastically referred to as my "Earth wisdom," I'd pitched the concept of anti-air weaponry to the gnomes. Unfortunately, cannons were still a relatively new technology, and the advanced metallurgy required for some of my ideas, like machine guns, wasn't feasible yet. Sicco himself had told me that even with detailed schematics, something like that would take time to understand and research. In short, not any time was, however, one idea they hadn't considered, likely due to the lack of any formal air warfare doctrine,which was precisely what we were about to deploy.
"Five hundred yards!" Sicco shouted.
"Fire!" I commanded.
The gnome mechas raised their modified barrels and unleashed their payloads.
The goblins in the air began to veer, expecting cannonballs or harpoons. What they didn't anticipate was the payload exploding midair, far short of their ships. A thick puff of black smoke filled the sky, blinding their visibility,but that wasn't the real threat.
By the time they realized what had hit them, it was too late. The explosion scattered thousands of tiny shrapnel fragments, shredding through the most vulnerable parts of their zeppelins: the hot air balloons. Almost immediately, chaos erupted as their ships began losing altitude. Goblin crews abandoned their focus on us, scrambling to stabilize their damaged vessels.
"Second volley ready!" Sicco shouted, his voice gleeful.
"Then, by all means, Sicco," I said with a grin, watching as five of the lead zeppelins began to plummet. "Fire."
Dozens of hastily constructed conceptual flak guns fired at the remaining goblin ships, shredding another five zeppelins from the sky. That was almost half of the goblin air force. The survivors, seeing what had happened to their comrades, turned tail and fled back to the orc lines.
"Suck it, gobbos!" Sicco whooped gleefully. He jumped out of his mecha walker's cockpit and broke into a victory dance.
It was, of course, the infamous gnome dance, a spectacle involving Sicco balling his fists together, shimmying from side to side, thrusting his hips, and finally slapping the air with both hands. I didn't need to see it, but unfortunately, what had been seen could not be unseen. Even though we were still running, most of us panting heavily, the sight of the goblin airships crashing down seemed to invigorate everyone.
For my part, I was just relieved it worked.
The limits of my knowledge on how modern weaponry was created had bitten me in the ass more times than I cared to admit. General ideas were fine, but without the details, I wasn't contributing anything new. It didn't help that every idea I threw out, whether for long-range artillery, air-suction engines (jets), or replacing musket balls with bullets, was met with indulgent but ultimately dismissive smiles. The dwarves, especially Brann, were kind about it, offering me polite pats on the back and assuring me that such innovations would take decades to develop with their current tech. It was like being humored by a patient teacher while I cluelessly rambled.
Thankfully, not all of my ideas were useless.
The goblins had plenty of explosive powder stocked at their main base, right? The gnomish mechas already had barrels that could be easily modified into firing tubes, didn't they? And surely, given the gnomes' penchant for tinkering, there had to be piles of scrap metal that could be repurposed into shrapnel. With these ready-made materials and a bit of gnomish ingenuity, we turned their mecha guns into makeshift flak guns. The conversion left them vulnerable in melee combat, but I wasn't planning on letting the orcs get that close.
With the goblin zeppelins hanging back near our Laughing Skull pursuers, we pressed on toward our destination. Time stretched on, seconds ticking into minutes, minutes piling into an hour, then two. Every so often, a zeppelin would test its luck, creeping ahead to threaten us. Each time, a warning flak round would send them scurrying back.
The truth was, we didn't have many flak rounds to begin with, had the goblins pressed harder or attempted a suicide run, they might have broken through and inflicted serious damage. Fortunately for us, goblins were naturally cowardly. Unless explicitly ordered, they were unlikely to risk their lives unnecessarily.
As the sun dipped lower, casting long shadows over the snowy expanse, I noted with relief that we were a mere half-hour away from our destination. Throughout the trek, Falconcrest's unseen efforts had guided us, leaving carefully placed markers to ensure we wouldn't lose our way in the treacherous, whitewashed terrain of Dun Morogh. Brann, who led our group, knew the route well enough, but the markers provided an invaluable safety net in case the snow obscured the path or fatigue muddled our senses.
"Commander Callan!" Sicco's voice cut through my thoughts, tinged with urgency. "They're starting to close in!"
Turning, I saw the once-comfortable thousand-yard gap between us and the Horde had shrunk by a third.
"Shit," I muttered under my breath. Why the hell were the orcs suddenly surging forward? Then it hit me: the sun. They must have realized the day was almost over and didn't want to risk losing us in the impending twilight.
"We need to move faster, ladies and gentlemen!" I shouted to the dwarves.
Groans rippled through the group, but to their credit, there was a noticeable push as everyone picked up speed. Unfortunately, the signs of exhaustion were evident. Our collective fatigue, combined with the relentless pursuit of the orcs, allowed them to close the distance bit by bit.
"Also..." Sicco's hesitant voice reached me again. "I hate to tell you this, but we're nearly out of fuel. Some of the mechs are going to start shutting down soon, probably one by one."
I grimaced. In retrospect, it was impressive that the mecha walkers and crawlers had lasted this long, running tirelessly since morning. Still, I cursed myself for not accounting for their fuel needs. It was an obvious limitation I should've considered, but in the heat of planning, I'd overlooked the nitty-gritty engineering realities. I had envisioned all the mechs making it to the end, but now we'd have to adapt on the fly.
"Tell those who need to switch to manual operation to do it now," I instructed Sicco, my breath coming in controlled bursts. "Better to be safe than sorry."
"Good call." Sicco nodded, his expression serious. "I'll get on it!"
With that, the gnome leader zipped off to relay the instructions, leaving me to focus on the thinning gap between us and the Horde.
It was impressive to see how seamlessly the gnomes transitioned without breaking a sweat. When the shift was done, nearly a third of our mechs had been abandoned, left in our wake to act as obstacles for the pursuing orcs. Unfortunately, they were little more than glorified speed bumps. The orcs deftly maneuvered around the scattered machines, losing only a fraction of their momentum.
Looking ahead, I silently willed the dwarves to pick up the pace, but they were already giving everything they had. As the minutes ticked by, the tension mounted until finally, we arrived at our destination.
"We're here!" Sicco shouted, his voice brimming with relief.
I spared a glance behind me, only to feel my stomach drop. The entire orcish force was less than a hundred yards away, closing the gap with terrifying speed.
"Fuck!" I cursed inwardly.
Any exhaustion the orcs might have felt was clearly replaced by the adrenaline-fueled thrill of the hunt. My eyes scanned their ranks, trying to get an estimate of their numbers. My heart sank further. My taunting and baiting had worked too well. Nearly half of the Laughing Skull's warriors were after us.
Garona had estimated the Laughing Skull to have around seventy thousand warriors in total. We had taken out five thousand in earlier ambushes and couldn't account for their losses when they fought with Grom or in hunting the dwarves, but it didn't seem to matter now. Somewhere between twenty and twenty-five thousand orcs were charging down on us. If they caught us here, it would be a massacre.
But we had made it.
'Yes~~~!' I mentally cheered.
The battlefield we'd chosen was a natural valley that was shaped like a bowl with a slightly elevated center. At the heart of the valley sat a cluster of tents numbering in the thousands. Surrounding the tents was a hastily constructed wooden barricade, rough and uneven as if it had been thrown together in desperation. Proudly hanging from the barricade were banners bearing the emblem of Ironforge.
The Horde's cries of savage glee echoed through the valley. They saw what they believed was our main base with their prey cornered and helpless. To them, it must have seemed like their victory was assured.
But everything—the tents, the barricade, and even the banners—was an illusion, a ruse to lure them in.
The dwarves poured into the "bowl" as we crossed the edge of the valley. Careful with our steps on the downward slope, we ensured no one lost their footing. The Horde, however, was far less cautious, and they paid for it. Echoes of surprised screams followed by jeering laughter filled the air as hundreds of orcs tumbled down the hill in a chaotic cascade.
"Last stretch!" I shouted, my voice tinged with hope.
Though our "command center" was a prop, it was about to become the safest space in the valley. By now, another third of the gnomes' mechs had run out of fuel and been abandoned. Unlike before, the gnomes didn't have time for an orderly switch. They simply sprinted alongside the rest of us. Their short legs made endurance over long distances impossible, but this final burst was well within their capability.
"Everyone's in!" Brann's voice cut through the din, signaling success.
I turned to see a massive wave of orcs pouring into the valley, their numbers blanketing the landscape in a sea of green and iron. It was an awe-inspiring, if daunting, sight. As the dwarves surged into the fake command center, I waited just long enough to ensure most of the Horde was in the valley and closing in on us. Then I grabbed the horn hanging from my side, took a deep breath, and infused my voice with the Light before blowing into the instrument.
A-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-!~~~
The blast of sound nearly deafened even me. It reverberated throughout the valley, its echoes likely carrying far beyond. The Horde halted in their tracks, startled by the deafening call. Confusion rippled through their ranks as they searched for signs of an ambush.
They wouldn't be disappointed.
Alleria and her rangers emerged from the tents, followed by a thousand archers. Each held longbows with arrows tipped in flame, their presence a dramatic reveal designed to stoke panic.
"Loose!" Alleria's command rang out just as I slipped inside the barricade, the dwarves slamming it shut behind me.
The orcs at the front instinctively raised their weapons, preparing to deflect the incoming volley but the arrows weren't aimed at them.
Instead, the arrows soared toward specific spots in the valley; places carefully chosen and prepared.
These were the sites where we had buried the goblin bombs we had commandeered during our earlier victories. Originally intended to breach Gnomeregan's defenses, these explosives had been modified to be hypersensitive, easily ignited by the flaming arrows of their former victims.
Had the Horde been more observant, they would have noticed that many areas of the valley floor looked freshly disturbed.
But they didn't.
The valley erupted in a cacophony of fire and destruction.
"Aegis!" I shouted, invoking the Holy Word as I summoned my strongest holy shield around me. I braced against the barricade just as the ground trembled violently beneath the force of the detonation.
Thanks to the fusion of gnomish engineering and dwarven ingenuity, the bombs were linked in a synchronized chain of devastating explosions. The valley quickly became a churning maelstrom of fire and shrapnel. The laughter of the nearby Laughing Skull orcs abruptly ceased, literally, as a massive blast erupted twenty-five yards in front of me, obliterating a dense cluster of them. Blood, gore, dismembered limbs, and clumps of dirt rained down even over our barricade, much to my resigned disgust.
"Redraw!" Alleria commanded, unfazed, keeping the momentum alive. The dwarves quickly helped clear space within the tent perimeter, allowing the archers to form organized lines. They stood in two ranks of five hundred, side by side, longbows drawn.
"Loose!" she shouted again.
This time, the arrows were aimed directly at the frontmost orcs pressing toward us, forcing them to stumble back under the relentless assault.
Then, as if to amplify the chaos, the first massive bolt from our ballistae fired from the rear ranks of our hidden forces. The projectile slammed into the Laughing Skull orcs at the rear of their formation, killing the first orc on impact before it plowed through a few more nearby.. Thirty more bolts followed in rapid succession, each wreaking havoc and forcing the rear orcs, desperate to escape, to push forward into the center of the chaos.
Some of the orcs at the front glanced at the untouched barricades where we stood and, to their credit, quickly realized the trap they had walked into.
"Get yer weapons, laddies!" Brann roared, rallying the dwarves. They wasted no time, arming themselves with Alliance-forged swords and shields. "Protect the archers!"
The three thousand dwarves swiftly formed a defensive line in front of Alleria's rangers, shields raised and ready. Meanwhile, the gnomes, who had been supporting from the sidelines, surged forward to join the frontmost line. With their eccentric arsenal, they unleashed havoc on the disoriented orcs attempting to regroup at the center of the valley.
True to gnomish craftsmanship, each weapon was as unique as its creator. One fired a fast-acting adhesive that trapped orcs like insects in a flytrap. Another spewed streams of flame, incinerating orcs on contact. The deadliest of the lot discharged deadly arcs of electricity, the currents bouncing between clustered orcs and leaving a trail of smoldering corpses.
With arrows raining down on the advancing orcs, ballista bolts decimating their rear, and gnomish weapons wreaking chaos at close range, our trap entered its final phase.
The third and most devastating strike revealed itself.
"Skryyyyreeeee~~~~!" came the loud screech of our Wildhammer gryphons as they emerged from what looked to be thin air by the enemy. They closed the gap between themselves and the goblin zeppelins faster than the latter could react.
I had always wondered how gryphon riders attacked, and it turned out, they dabbled in a bit of shamanism. Their specially imbued storm hammers allowed them to hurl powerful bolts of charged lightning. These bolts smashed against the goblins' hulls, blowing chunks off. More followed from the other Wildhammer riders, reducing the goblin zeppelins to little more than kindling. The goblins lost half a dozen ships in the opening barrage from the two dozen riders alone.
A storm hammer was already an impressive weapon, but it was primarily designed for ranged attacks. However, in close combat, the gryphons themselves became the true weapons. These creatures were a deadly hybrid between a lion and an eagle. Their bodies were clearly feline in nature, but instead of paws, they had sharp raptor claws. Their heads resembled that of an eagle, with their razor-sharp and deadly beaks. The goblins who survived the initial barrage of lightning bolts found themselves quickly beset by the gryphons.
Goblins were plucked from the zeppelins and flung overboard while sharp claws shredded the remaining crew to ribbons. Other gryphons tore at the zeppelins' hot air balloons which had kept them afloat. Though some gryphons were blown away by the released pressure, the goblin air fleet was forced down onto the orcs below where something unexpected happened. The air from the zeppelins came into contact with one of the fires burning on the ground and caught fire.
'It's gas!' I realized, just in time to see the burning blimp light up like a matchstick house, spewing flames onto the orcs below.
When the chaos finally stopped, just a few minutes later (though it had felt like forever), I was able to assess the damage we'd done to the Horde. Their numbers had been reduced by half, and most of those remaining were either dead or seriously injured. It would have been better if the explosion had taken out all of them, but... I'd take it as a win.
I raised the war horn to my mouth and blew into it again as the stunned and scattered Horde tried to regroup as best as they could.
A-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-! ~~~
From the edge of the valley, at the ten and two o'clock positions relative to my location in the center, the mages who had kept the Alliance 1st and 2nd Legions hidden dropped their concealment spell. While we had suffered losses in the previous battles, the bulk of our forces were still intact. Over seven thousand footmen, split evenly between the legions, carefully entered the valley.
A single Legion was composed of five hundred knights, five hundred archers, and four thousand footmen. They were supported by one hundred priests or clerics and fifty mages or conjurers, equivalent to postgraduate level. Outside forces, such as the Templars or Paladins, would be attached as needed, depending on the situation. Usually, the knights, templars, and paladins would be mounted, but due to the damaged terrain, horseback combat wasn't feasible. The knights were forced to enter the battle on foot, alongside their fellow footmen, but that didn't make them any less deadly. After all, every knight started as a footman and was often deadlier than their grounded contemporaries.
Typically, a knight would carry a long lance and shield in combat, as that was their standard uniform. However, since they were about to engage in melee combat, they chose weapons that suited them best. The knights from Stormwind used morningstars, flails, and greatswords, while the knights from Lordaeron preferred to crush their foes with heavy iron warhammers. Those from Stromgarde favored double-edged greataxes while knights from Alterac and Gilneas commonly used zweihanders. The legionnaire footmen's choices were more varied than those of the regular army, whose only option was sword and shield. Some footmen wielded a shield and two-handed sword, like me, while others carried spears but still retained shields. Most still used longswords. After all, why mess with what works?
"Dwaaaaaaaaarf!" bellowed the ogre chieftain. A moment later, a fast, powerful fireball shot from the clearing debris cloud and would have struck me dead-on if I hadn't raised my shield to absorb the impact. "You shall pay for your treachery and deceit!"
As the battlefield smoke cleared, I saw the enraged ogre, along with the surviving orcs around him, infamous for their laughter. They looked shell-shocked and confused, as if they couldn't quite place where they had seen us before. This was the first time we had revealed ourselves in full view of the Laughing Skull's main army, after all. Meanwhile, the gryphon riders circled overhead, well outside the orcs' spear thrower range, hurling bolts of lightning from their storm hammers at the forces on the ground.
"As if you have room to talk!" I shouted back, blocking yet another fireball with my shield.
Bringing my horn up, I delivered unto the metal one last long, resounding blow that echoed through the valley. At my signal, the 1st and 2nd Alliance Legions, led by Saidan and Aloman respectively, broke formation and rushed at the Horde with a loud battle shout.
"Sons and Daughters of Ironforge, of Gnomeregan!" I roared, raising my weapon for them to see. "Attack!"
From the middle, the dwarves and gnomes, along with those in the refueled mechas, rushed toward the orc formation. The Laughing Skull, facing enemies from three sides, began laughing again as they recovered from their earlier shock. As I ran ahead of the pack, I frowned, occasionally having to detour around a shallow crater in the ground from our bombs. In the end, our three-sided attack struck the Horde simultaneously. The rest of the dwarves, fueled by a strong desire to free their homeland, slammed into the orc line, alongside the First and Second Legions on the opposite end.
"For the Alliance!" I yelled at the top of my lungs as I swung at the first orc. The orc brought his weapon low to block the strike, only to die without realizing I had swiped at his neck from a higher angle.
He wasn't the only victim of Tyri's illusion as I killed more orcs who defended themselves as if they were fighting actual dwarves. I could only imagine how strange it must have been for them to fight a dwarf whose movements didn't match their expected height. Due to the odd way I was fighting, at least in the orcs' eyes, I was able to easily kill more of them before I sensed a barrage of magical attacks headed my way.
"Aegis!" I uttered while raising my shield to block.
The spell struck my shield, but instead of the heavy recoil I expected, nothing happened; just the sensation of something cold washing through me. I lowered my shield and saw that some of the orcs who had been on course to intercept me stopped to look at me in confusion. None looked more surprised than the ogre at the center with his outstretched hand.
"You were a pinkskin all this time?" the ogre asked. Despite at least half of his army fighting for their lives, he didn't seem the least bit bothered. If anything, his face seemed to light up as if he had just realized something, his gaze fixed on my shield. "That clan crest!"
"Laddie," Brann said quickly. "Your disguise spell broke."
'Shit, really?' I thought, but then realized it didn't matter now.
The orcs in front of me made no move to attack as the ogre continued to stare at me, his eyes widening as if he finally made some kind of connection. Meanwhile, other Laughing Skulls, seeing my disguise had been broken, began to aim their swings above the dwarves' heads. Those orcs paid for it when the confused dwarves simply stabbed them directly in the chest as the swings missed.
"You're... Ah—ahah—AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" The ogre put a hand on his head and began laughing as if he had just heard the greatest joke in the world. His laughter made the other Laughing Skulls pause in confusion before they clutched their bellies and pointed at me. "Blackhand's Bane! They're Blackhand's Bane! Ahahahahahahahahahahahaha!"
It was an odd sensation to feel the entire battlefield's tension momentarily dissipate as the orcs took a second to process the ogre's words. Slowly, it began with one orc who started to chuckle. Another picked it up with light laughter, then another openly laughed, and soon it spread like wildfire. The way they laughed so uncontrollably made it feel like they had heard the greatest joke in the world.
"Ahahahaha!" The ogre laughed so hard that tears were coming from his eyes as he raised a stone hammer and a mage-like staff.
Oh well, the jig's up. Without hesitating, I held my hand up and fired a Penance volley that mowed down the orcs who hadn't engaged me.
"Draenei!" an orc shrieked. Unlike the other times I'd heard it, this orc's voice was filled with unrestrained euphoria. The ogre summoned some kind of shadow arcane shield to block my stray Penance shots before smiling at me.
"Come, Blackhand's Bane! We fight to the death!" he roared, lumbering toward me.
"Solace!" I uttered, invoking the strongest Power Word I had as he charged.
The moment my Power Word hit his dark arcane shield, it popped like a balloon. I quickly followed up by unleashing another volley of Penance orbs at him. For an ogre of his size, he scrambled away quickly, allowing the Laughing Skull orcs behind him to take the hit. In return, he fired off a barrage of ice, fire, and lightning spells at me. I blocked the first two with my shield, but the lightning strike veered off and struck a gnome in a mecha. The bolt shorted out the mech, and the Laughing Skull orcs rushed in, plucking the gnome from the disabled cockpit and tearing his head off.
'Damn it!' I gritted my teeth at the sight. Worse still, the orcs were now rushing at me again.
Focusing on the magical ogre, I fought my way through the orcs in my path while exchanging magical attacks with the dark mage. Neither of us gave the other a chance to cast a large spell which forced us into quick and simple magic. I couldn't use powerful area spells like Halo, but that meant his attempts at summoning blizzards or firestorms were off the table as well. The orcs kept getting in my way, making it feel like wading through mud. But eventually, I came within striking distance.
We didn't exchange any words when we faced each other. I reared my sword arm back, but before I could strike, he surprised me by swinging his fist at me. I raised my shield to block his strike, only to be sent reeling back by the force of the blow. Surprised by the melee attack, I lowered my shield just in time to see him throw another punch that I promptly dodged. Wasn't he a mage? Why the hell was he fighting like this? The ogre turned toward me and charged again, forcing me to tank another powerful hit that sent shockwaves through me.
'Fuck,' I thought, bracing myself against his large meaty fists.
"Ha! Come, Blackhand's Bane, is that all you can do?!" The ogre roared, raising his arms for a double overhead strike, intent on overpowering me.
I had my sword ready to strike at the opening when spears suddenly sprouted from the ogre's chest. The ogre looked down, gurgling blood as the spear was retracted and emerged from his body in a different area.
"Nuh-gruur...fair," the ogre muttered in genuine disappointment.
When the spear sprouted again, the ogre grabbed it but failed to see a Light-infused hammer aimed at his head from his blind side. The hammer crashed into his skull with empowered force, and his head was immediately crushed, the life draining from his body as he crumpled to the ground. As his body fell forward, it revealed two familiar High Templars I knew well. One wielded a spear and a tower shield, while the other held a matching shield in her off-hand, and in her weapon arm was a one-handed warhammer.
With the ogre's death, the battle around me shifted in favor of the dwarves. What's more, the orcs at the rear were obliterated by Saidan and Aloman's forces. They pushed their way over to me and moved to pass me, but not before diverting some of their legionaries to form a protective circle around me. As the legion pressed forward, I saw the tired group of priests at their rear, along with several weary-looking mages. The priests seemed hard-pressed to keep up with the healing while the mages, who had expended considerable magic to keep us hidden, continued to unleash arcane attacks at the orc stragglers. In time, the sounds of the dying became louder than the sounds of battle.
The day was ours.
It was a giddy feeling, knowing that our plan had worked. Sure, it shouldn't have been a surprise, but I subscribed to the philosophy that no plans ever survive contact with the enemy. Overcome by the euphoric feeling, even in the middle of the battlefield, I gave the two youngest High Templars a playful look.
"I had him," I mock-complained.
"Of course, Hierarch," the youngest of the High Templars said while Allyson kept a hand on my shoulder as if to keep me in place. "But your task is over. Leave it in our hands now."
"Fine," I said, raising my hands. Just because I let them fight didn't mean I couldn't help them.
Allyson saw that I was up to something and made to protest. "Hi—"
However, it was too late. She felt the Light rush into the area around me as I began humming. The Divine Hymn was a very powerful area healing spell, second only to the golden dome faith hog known as Holy Word: Salvation. However, Divine Hymn was much less taxing. Where Holy Word: Salvation was a brute-force heal that drained its caster, Divine Hymn was much more efficient. It covered the same area but with less strain. The drawback was that I had to stand still and channel the spell with a song for it to work. Personally, I had no idea why the singing part was required, but I didn't make the rules,I just followed them.
Now, Victoria and Mara had managed to get this spell to work by singing church songs which were in Old Common. It sounded like Latin to me, but since I never bothered to learn it, I decided to hum a song that was extremely popular on Earth from one of its most romantic films. As I hummed, I felt the Light begin to saturate the area and heal the wounded. Even the soldiers still in combat were healed in real time, making the priests in the rear gasp at what had transpired. I paid them little mind and continued for a bit longer before I pulled the Light toward me once more, gathering it in greater volume.
"Hierarch, what are—oh..." Laura trailed off as she realized what I was doing.
Up to this point, I had only used mass resurrection after the fight, but now that I was out of combat, I could focus better. Like before, I pulled the Light to me, condensed it as much as I could, and then released it, letting it sweep across the vale. Soon afterward, the destroyed valley was dotted with hundreds of pillars rising into the sky as the recently dead were brought back to life. The Horde, which had been pressed and ground down methodically, sounded as if they were personally insulted by what I had just done. Gathering the Light once more, I channeled the Divine Hymn and hummed the same song again, healing the newly resurrected soldiers.
The soldiers who hadn't experienced death before took a moment to compose themselves before their companions called them to rejoin the fray. By the time the sun had truly set, not a single Laughing Skull orc was left alive in the valley.
*** Arathi Highland – The Circle of Outer Bindings (Despoiled) ***
Ner'zhul sat in his tent as the rest of his clan busied themselves setting up camp for the night. The Shadowmoon Clan had been the first to arrive at the meeting place. Long before the formation of the Horde, there had been the Shaman Ring—a council of shamans from every clan. It was they who mediated disputes between clans when conflicts threatened to escalate. Now, in the spirit of the old ways, shamans from various clans had once again gathered in advance, and as before, they all deferred to Ner'zhul.
Despite all that had transpired, their continued respect filled him with a quiet pride. That respect gave him hope—hope that he could end the threat to the Horde once and for all. It was this trust, this responsibility, that steeled his resolve. For the greater good of his clan—no, of all orcs—he would kill Gul'dan.
But to succeed, Ner'zhul knew his current power was not enough. His duel with the draenei human had proven that painfully clear. No, he needed more strength. After much effort, he had finally found the orc who possessed the mysterious Draenei crystal known as the Heart of Fury. The other two crystals remained missing or perhaps hidden by their owners. Still, with this single shard, it might be enough to strike Gul'dan down when he least expected it.
Ner'zhul's thoughts were interrupted as one of his younger apprentices entered the tent.
"I told you not to disturb—" Whatever reprimand Ner'zhul had intended to give died in his throat as his eyes fixed on the figure entering alongside the apprentice.
"Greetings, my master," Gul'dan said, his voice laced with familiar malice.
The orc warlock had changed greatly. He was no longer as large as he had once been, and his body was horrifically scarred. Lines of raw, jagged wounds, like cracks in shattered stone, marred his skin. Yet no blood appeared to seep from them. Despite his ravaged appearance, there was something about Gul'dan—an aura of power—that felt far greater now than when he had been whole and healthy.
Ner'zhul was no coward, but when his gaze met his former apprentice's, he knew—crystal clear in his soul—that even with the Heart of Fury in his possession, he stood no chance against Gul'dan. The warlock radiated a dark and malevolent power that seeped into the very air around them. For those sensitive enough to feel it, it was like a suffocating weight, and even the elemental spirits recoiled, unsettled and silent in Gul'dan's presence.
But he had to try. For the good of the clan. For the good of the orcs everywhere. Ner'zhul gritted his teeth and raised his staff, preparing to act—
"Stay your hand or die, Ner'zhul," came a deep, rumbling voice.
Ner'zhul froze. He knew that voice.
His eyes finally shifted, tearing away from Gul'dan, and there, standing beside the scarred warlock, was Doomhammer. The ambitious warchief had been there the entire time, but Ner'zhul's focus on Gul'dan had blinded him to Doomhammer's presence. The sight of the formidable warrior chilled him further. Doomhammer, with his sheer strength and unparalleled speed, could close the distance between them in an instant, ending any chance Ner'zhul had to lash out with his elements. Bitter defeat churned in his gut as he lowered his staff, conceding the moment before it had even begun.
"Believe it or not," Doomhammer said, his voice steady and deliberate, "I have come to you for the greater good of the Horde."
What audacity! How could Doomhammer dare to speak of the Horde's welfare when he was one of the reasons they stood on this precipice of ruin?
"You?" Ner'zhul laughed bitterly before fixing the warchief with a sharp glare. "You speak of the greater good of the Horde? If you had even thought of such a thing, you would have submitted to Grom Hellscream!"
"Grom is dead now," Doomhammer said in a calm tone. "And I am alive. You know that of all the orcs in the clans, only I can unite them."
"There is Durotan," Ner'zhul shot back. "He is a more honorable orc."
"He is," Doomhammer admitted with a slight nod, "but he too has submitted to me." The warchief stepped closer to Ner'zhul, though his namesake weapon remained at his side. "Ner'zhul, I will admit that Gul'dan's folly led us to attack the humans before we were ready—that the pinkskins are far more tenacious than even the Draenei."
Ner'zhul raised an eyebrow at the casual insult, particularly with the subject of the insult present in the room. His gaze flicked over to Gul'dan who inclined his head respectfully.
"It was folly. I see that now," Gul'dan said in a humbled tone before pulling off his robe to bare his chest. The scars that covered his body were even more grotesque than Ner'zhul had initially noticed. "And I have paid for it."
"Ner'zhul." Doomhammer was now standing directly before the shaman. "Whatever else may be said, I know you have always looked out for the orcs—for the Horde. Otherwise, why would you have warned Durotan not to take the cup Gul'dan offered?"
Ner'zhul's eyes widened at the revelation, but he quickly noted Gul'dan's reaction. The warlock appeared genuinely surprised which meant Doomhammer was not Gul'dan's puppet like Blackhand had been. Doomhammer was the one in control, not the scheming warlock!
"You are respected," Doomhammer continued, echoing Ner'zhul's own earlier thoughts. "While Gul'dan is feared. Together, the two of you will back me as Warchief. With your support, the Horde will finally be united, and the humans will be crushed. After that, we will have our peace. This, I have promised to Durotan, and now I promise to you."
The larger orc locked eyes with Ner'zhul, and the shaman saw a rare, unmistakable conviction in the Warchief's gaze.
"There are those who would resist—"
"Then they will die by my hammer," Doomhammer interrupted, his voice like grinding stone and his gaze unwavering. "You and Gul'dan once defeated the Horde's deadliest enemy by working together. We need you to do so again. Gul'dan can put his grudge against you aside for revenge against the humans who mauled him. Will you set yours aside to fight for the good of the Horde?"
With that, Doomhammer extended his arm.
"Will you fight with us?" he asked.
Ner'zhul glanced at his apprentice. Gul'dan nodded silently, his demeanor surprisingly subdued. If the warlock had wanted to strike at him, he would have had ample opportunity—even behind Doomhammer's back. Yet Gul'dan had remained still, showing no signs of his usual treachery.
Perhaps… perhaps things would be different under Doomhammer. As much as Ner'zhul hated to admit it, the Warchief was far more cunning than Grom Hellscream.
His decision made, Ner'zhul gripped Doomhammer's extended arm firmly.
"I will fight for the Horde."
"Good."
TBC...
AN
First of all thank you to Icura for helping me edit. You da man!
Secondly, thank you for all the patron supporters, those that just join and those that continue to do so. It has helped immensely in my life and I am humble by you very much
Now onto this chapter, busy busy! And yes I did what I did :P Some might disagree with my take on why uplifting doesnt work so quickly and I welcome the debate. That said, it took me a while to find way to make humans different from one another, well show to speak, so I figure their knights weapon would be the most blatant way to show it. Hope you guys like that too. Also for those that don't know, yes that is indeed an atamal crystal in Ner'zhul hands :D You're welcome XD Hope you guys enjoyed the chapter!
Once again, please considering supporting us on patron at "icuraandvahn" , Thank you!
Finally, as always, CC and discussions are always welcomed!
NOTICE : Going offshore for work next two weeks so next chapter might be a bit delayed!
