Chapter 11: Volume 1: Chapter 9
Lost Lion
Disclaimer! I don't own warcraft, it is the property of blizzard.
Volume 1: Chapter 9
*** Callan's Hearth – Redridge Mountains ***
'I'm a medieval man~' I hummed as I finalized the paperwork for the last completed farm.
Four months. Four long months was how long it took me to do the first mission of Warcraft: Orcs and Humans. A four-minute game mission took me that long, but I was done now. Finally!
"Done." I exhaled and placed the quill down before I raised my arms and stretched to the sound of crackling muscles. "Naaarrghhh!"
A footman's head popped into the open doorway, wondering what that sound was. I discreetly put my arms down and flushed a bit in embarrassment. I gave my report one last look before I burned the blue wax stick and stamped the lion seal on it.
"I am freeeeee~~~" I mimicked Grom from the end of the Warcraft 3 mission when he died to Mannaroth.
Thoughts of Grom, however, inevitably led my thoughts back to the war and what part I was supposed to play in it. I wasn't privy to a lot of information, but supposedly, there could be a large offensive soon. I wasn't sure if that happened in canon or not, but it was currently out of my hands; I could only control what was in front of me.
My office was on the second floor of the town hall, and it had a nice view of the outside. From here I could see a small blacksmith, the mess hall, and most importantly, the newly built wooden wall for my budding garrison. The kingdom had seen fit to fund the wall because I knew for sure I did not generate enough income to let me build one. It had a total of twelve watch towers along its parapets, letting us see attacks coming from anywhere. Naturally, the area outside of the wall was cleared for an entire mile to allow for clearer vision and more importantly a kill zone.
From here, I could also see the most recently erected structure: a little wooden shack, a not-church. I mentally called it that because there were weapons, archery boards, and dummies that were usually found in our training area. And right outside that not-church were the five Sisters of Ba-ahem- I mean clerics being worked over by Gavinrad the Dire.
Gavinrad was a knight in his early thirties who arrived here as an add-on to my forces to reinforce the area. I knew he had been assigned by my father to watch my back. Lothar sent thirty elite knights, not the typical ones but Brotherhood grade. I was pretty touched, really, and sent him a heartfelt thank you note. Our father-son relationship was improving since we talked in Stormwind. He even sent along a gift with Gavinrad.
However, there was an issue regarding command, since Gavinrad and his knights outranked me. We were able to come to an understanding of sorts after a lengthy discussion. Since I had a civil post, he would listen to me in general, but he would not address me with any title. It was a good compromise and so the first job I assigned to him was to train the not-paladins that came to me.
Mara and the milfilicous Victoria had returned to me in the company of three other supermodels a month ago. Again, I marveled at the high fantasy aesthetic at work there before they sprung their request on me. They wanted to learn how to fight with the Light from me. I had initially declined until Mara laid out what happened when she had returned to Northshire Abbey.
It never occurred to my dumb ass that I could be declared a heretic for using shadow magic. I mean, it was accepted in WoW like an everyday occurrence, and there was the priest hall during the Legion expansion pack. Who knew it was frowned upon as black magic? As far as I knew, black magic practitioners were currently residing in Kul'Tiras. Thankfully, she did me a solid and defended me with milf-Victoria.
So…I owed her. I consoled myself with the fact that, canonically, Mara had learned how to fight… who was to say she couldn't learn it from me?
"Alright, let's check their progress," I muttered to myself and walked out, nodding at the two footmen who saluted me on the way out.
I exited the town hall and felt the sunray hit me full-on. I shielded my eyes until they could adjust and survey my surroundings. By the barracks, there was the newest batch of recruits being trained by Keeshan. That was another fifty which would bring my total fighting force to a little over five hundred.
"Milord." A civilian contract worker greeted me with a light bow when he saw me. There were dozens of civilian contractors all over the place. Food needed to be cooked, rodents caught, etc etc.
"Afternoon," I greeted back and made my way to the not-church training area.
The building where they were training would one day be their place of residence, but for now, they were billeted in the town hall. The not-church was also a place for the soldiers to worship the Light as some even attributed their renewed faith to me. A bit uncomfortable, but soon, Light users would be a dime a dozen. It was thanks to those soldiers' donations that the not-church was built. I even helped out a bit with a hundred gold from the Lothar estate. After approval from the old man, of course.
The Abbot and those Northshire Clerics were kinda dicks for leaving Mara and her followers out in the cold like that. However, I understood that maybe, just maybe, it was too soon for the idea of fighting priests. Speaking of fighting priests, I was quiet with my steps as I entered the training area where the women were watching one of their own train.
"Raise your shield higher!" Gavinrad barked as he swung his sword hard down onto Victoria.
"Shield!" Victoria's voice was laced with otherworldly power. Her shield raised high to block the knight's attack. "Aghh!"
Unfortunately, his strike was really strong, and it punched through Power Word: Shield and staggered her.
"Call upon the Light to empower our bodies as sir Lothar taught us!" Laura, the youngest of them, cheered on from the side.
Victoria seemed to remember and stood up even as Gavinrad's sword came down onto her shield again. However this time, she was able to take the blow and barely bent her knees.
"Good!" Gavinrad laughed then smiled. "But now would be a good time for you to remember that you have a sword in your other hand."
Victoria, who had been riding high on being able to tank the knight's strike, completely forgot about the weapon in her right hand. There was a blush on her face before she slashed at Gavinrad who blocked the attack as he backed away.
"Slower than I liked, but you are improving," Gavinrad complimented before turning in my direction. "Isn't that so, sir Callan?"
I felt their eyes on me and gave them an easy wave. "Clerics."
"Sir Lothar!"
"Young Callan."
"Sir Callan."
I nodded at their greeting and turned my eyes to the blonde. "He's right, you know. You should have attacked him back right away. Remember, the Light should be constantly empowering your body, supercharging your muscles."
"I–I'll remember it next time," the blonde flushed in embarrassment.
"I know it's hard." Heh. It was actually easy for me, but now was the time for encouragement. "But every day, you are getting better. Don't look down on your progress! Even the Abbey wasn't built in a day, right?"
Victoria's face turned pensive as if trying to recall if she did better on the previous day. A few seconds later, a small smile graced her lips before she inclined her head toward me.
"Thank you, Sir Callan, for your words of encouragement," Mara Fordragon spoke up. I noted that her eyes had watched the fight like a hawk. The cleric had her hair tied up in a ponytail instead of falling loose around her shoulders like before. She was in practice-grade armor and on her right arm was a large round shield while in her left hand was a longsword. "Now Sir Gavinrad, if you would be so kind as to go a few rounds with me?"
I saw Gavinrad, badass knight and future Paladin, blushing as Mara Fordragon talked to him. The dude totally had a crush on the not-paladin for sure.
"It is getting a bit long in the day. Perhaps tomorrow?" Gavinrad begged off before straightening his body. "Perhaps, if you have free time, would you and your sisters like to join us at Lakeshire and see the sights?"
Mara pursed her lips before she turned to me. Damn it, woman, don't bring me into this!
"Sir Callan, would you do me the honor of a spar?" she asked. Looked like that fight got her blood up. "I think I have improved since yesterday."
I saw Gavinrad's expression fall as she ignored his invitation.
"Come on, Gavinrad." I gestured to Mara with my head. Let it not be said that I wasn't a good wingman. "Are you going to turn down a lady's invitation, sir knight?"
The knight looked confused for a moment before realizing what I was trying to do.
"My apologies for my haste, milady. I feel that I can indeed entertain you in that spar," the knight said and was rewarded with a smile from Mara. The dude had it bad.
Gavinrad held up his sword and Mara came at him with light-empowered strikes and shield bashes. The knight grunted from tanking each of those hit with his sword. I had to hand it to Mara Fordragon, she was what I thought she was: a proto-paladin. Of the five clerics, she was the one who most improved, followed by Delilah, then Victoria, and finally Alyson and Laura.
Gavinrad tried to gain the upper hand and charged her, but Mara drew in the Light to her and held her ground. The knight didn't bounce off her shield, but she wasn't knocked off her feet either. She was pushed, however, due to his leverage over her; he was just plain bigger than her. She stopped him when she got a real hit, a fully empowered strike on the knight. The knight fell back onto the ground, but he grabbed her ankle and pulled, making her lose her balance.
The two downed people took a second to recover before they got up to their feet in time with weapons ready.
"You can do it, Lady Fordragon!" Laura cheered enthusiastically.
"We believe in you, Lord Gavinrad!" The knights that Gavinrad brought with him cheered as if not to be outdone.
The two, now encouraged by their peers, charged at one another. Gavinrad decided to forgo defense and put everything into his powerful swings. Mara, on the other hand, pulled in more of the Light to strengthen her and landed devastating empowered attack after attack on the knight. Eventually, the Light seemed to diminish on Mara's side while the knight put his all into his strike, ripping the shield from the cleric's arm.
"Mara!" Victoria ran to her friend's side.
I winced as Mara's shield arm was just hanging there limply, probably broken. I saw Gavinrad's eyes widened at what he had done. To stop the drama from happening, I called upon the Light and fired five Penance orbs at the cleric. It arrived there before Victoria could and when the final orb landed, Mara was looking right as rain.
"Incredible," Mara uttered as she lifted her formerly broken arm and curled her fingers. She then looked at me with inquisitiveness in her eyes. "I thought it was a Light attack spell?"
"Well, yes and no?" I tried to think of a way to best explain it to her. "Penance is of the Light so, being of the Light, it's natural for it to be able to heal. It's just when facing enemies, I prefer for it to hurt them. Remember, intention counts, Mara."
With my reminder, Mara seemed content with my answers. Gavinrad didn't as I saw his eyes briefly on me. Mara had permitted me to address her informally, but the same courtesy was not extended to the knight.
"How utterly fascinating," Victoria marveled as she examined her friend's formerly broken arm. She turned to me with wide eyes. "Can I learn that ability? Can you teach it to me?"
"It uhh..." I began to think and gave the best answer I knew. "It requires a very disciplined mind to learn how to shape it, so if you think you can..."
The blonde did not say anything else, but there was an eagerness that could be seen in her eyes.
"Right, well, since I'm here, anyone wants to have a go at me?" I offered.
Gavinrad stepped up.
'Dude! I wasn't even talking to you!' I thought at the knight before a shorter chestnut cleric got in his way first.
"I'm up for it, though I hope you will not be as brutish as Sir Gavinrad, Callan," Alyson said as she approached me with a tiny smile. Like Mara, she used a large round shield but instead of a sword, she preferred a one-handed mace.
"Hey," I smirked. "I am a true believer in gender equality. As far as I am concerned, women should get equal rights...and lefts."
The knights had scandalized expressions on their faces while the women all laughed.
"You sure do have a glib tongue like rumors say," Alyson's eyes flicked briefly to the older blonde, letting me know who was the squealer. "I do hope you take care of me like Mara after you're done with me?"
'Oh hell no. That was a flirt, wasn't it? That was definitely a flirt!' I grinned. I ain't no shy virgin transmigrator. I was going to give as good as I got. At least, I was until a horn sounded in the distance, making me and the knight snapped our heads in the direction of Stonewatch.
DAUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUN!
"Callan?" Alyson called out. I was about to answer when a second horn sounded from further away but still had the long note. Then a third, a fourth, a fifth, a sixth, a seventh. By now, even the clerics knew something was wrong.
"Clements!" I roared, and the civilian adjutant came running from the town hall.
"Yes, Sir Lothar?" The man huffed.
"Ring the town hall bell. We're being invaded," I told the man and heard gasps from the clerics. "Sir Gavinrad?"
"Callan." The man stood at attention.
"Ride out to the farms with your men and bring the villagers here," I ordered the man but also cautioned. "Be careful. There might be ambushers hiding along the way."
"I will remain vigilant," Gavinrad said as he saluted me just as the bells began to toll. I could hear the panic starting to take hold of the people in the garrison, but that was a secondary concern at best. Already, I heard Jenkins and Keeshan snapping orders to calm the populace down. The knight gave me a final glance and then made his way to the stable. "Come men, we ride!"
Gavinrad left without giving a farewell to the clerics. There was no time for the usual chivalry it seems.
"Well, Mara," I said as the bell kept tolling. "It looks like you and your sisters will have your first true test soon."
"Ca–Sir Callan, is-is it true?" Alyson asked. She was scared. I couldn't blame her since I was too, but I had army training so I learned to channel it.
"Yes," I replied and held up a finger. "You heard those horns in the distance?"
The girl nodded.
"A short horn means an attack from a small force. The longer the horn, the larger the force. A long horn like this," I pointed in the distance as the long note sounded again. "That means that an unknown number of enemies were attacking in that direction."
The town bell continued to toll as the horn's notes came from the north, then northeast, and then finally east before it repeated. Now that they understood, the Clerics paled. Even Mara, who was the best of the bunch, had shaking hands.
"Don't be nervous," I reassured them even as I myself wanted some assurance from someone higher up. "With the Light abilities you learned, I can say with confidence that you are generally better than most of my regular footmen."
The women appeared stunned by my evaluation.
"It's true," I continued to ply on. "So, remember to listen to me, move with the army, and stay calm. I promise that you'll make it out alive."
Whether they knew it was a lie or not, they chose to accept my words and stood tall.
"We won't fail you, Callan," Mara spoke for them. I noted that her hands were shaking less now.
"Good, now go get armed. You will come with me to protect the civilians," I told them but saw their confused faces. "The 'peasants'."
Understanding dawned on their faces as they went back to their not-church to arm themselves. In a rush, I made my way inside the town hall to equip my armor. I strapped my two-handed sword to my back and picked up the gift Lothar sent me. It was a finely crafted heater shield, made with a lot of enchanted metal. On its front was the golden face of the Stormwind lion. After securing the straps to my arm, I made it outside just as the next bell tolled again, making me wince. Jenkins was already out front and ready to update me on our ready status.
"Sir! Keeshan's men are almost fully ready. Food is being taken in, and villagers organized," Jenkins reported. The garrison could hold five thousand civvies. Sure, it would be a tight fit, but it was better than being stuck outside. "There are no sightings of the enemy yet."
"They're here," I told Jenkins with conviction. My gut feeling was screaming as it did during the Garona ambush. "Have company four through seven man our battlements now. Make sure to supply them with plenty of crossbow bolts."
"You really think we would get attacked this far behind the lines?" Jenkins asked just as a long note blew again. This time it came from the southeast. There was his answer.
"Sir Callan." Mara's voice came from behind me and, to my surprise, I saw them wearing new armor, stylish ones at that. They all had matching plates but instead of bulky ones, it was more like armor over a dress robe. The armored robe was a deep blue color with gold lines along the edges, a sign of respect to the Light. Their swords and maces were new, not the hand-me-downs that I supplied them with. To finish it off, they had blue and gold heater shields with the golden lion on them like the one I carried.
"When did you..." I trailed off when I saw Mara shake her head.
"Sir Gavinrad said we would fight better with armor that was made for us. Thanks to the donation we received and a generous discount from the local blacksmith, we were able to afford the full set."
"….mmmm." I rubbed my stubble-less chin as I inspected their new outfit. The clerics seemed to shuffle in place at my critique, but they didn't have to worry as I gave them a firm thumbs up. "Nicesu!"
Whatever Mara wanted to say was cut off when the longhorn note sounded once more, making us turn in said direction. It was in the southeast again.
"Be on your guard!" I shouted to all my soldiers. "Anyone not on the battlement wall, get your asses here now!"
"Sir!" Jenkins saluted and began barking orders at the three hundred fully armed footmen. All of them had their eyes scanning back and forth for any sign of the enemy.
The sound of tense breathing and panicked civilians pervaded the area until the faint echoes of growls could be heard. Those who were with me for the ambush recognized them right away.
"ORRRRRRRCSSSS!" The lookout on the watchtowers shouted. The horn note that had been sounding all around us came from behind our walls this time. A moment later, hundreds of orcs could be seen streaming out from the trees.
Well, fuck. Looks like my gut feeling was right. How the hell did they get behind us again? I thought Stonewatch had extra patrols in the southern area. At least this time, the attack was during the day.
"We will defend the gates until all the civilians make it in, understood?!" I ordered.
"Yes, sir!" they all replied in unison.
I turned to a clearly nervous Mara and lightly struck her shoulder plate, grabbing her attention. "Remember what I taught you. Every strike must be empowered, understood?"
"Y-Yes, Callan." Mara gave a tight nod even as I heard crossbow bolts whistling overhead and striking into the orcs, blunting their charge. The crossbowmen's job was to whittle away as much of the attacking forces as much as possible so we would–the ones in melee–only had to deal with reduced numbers.
My eyes flickered to the rest down the line, from Victoria to Laura. "Understood Clerist?"
They could only nod wordlessly before I turned back to face the first greatly thinned-out wave of orcs, but suddenly, I felt eyes on me. I quickly glanced to the right and then to the left, but all I saw was the soldiers and clerics looking at me as if waiting for something.
That was when it hit me. They were waiting for my inspirational speech. Those were important; it really amped a soldier up in Azeroth. Up to date, I have only been in smaller skirmishes so the usual 'For the King!' usually suffice. Now a large battle was coming toward us and they were expecting something more from me.
'Fuck it!' I thought. It was a bit cheesy, but if it makes them put in two hundred percent effort, then I would do it.
"The Light is with you, sons and daughters of Azeroth!" I internally cringed but kept my voice steady and full of pride. "We will send these orcs back to the foul hell that they spawn from! For Stormwind and for the King!"
"For Stormwind and for the King!"
And like that, I charged the first incoming waves of orcs.
*** The Black Morass***
Lothar and his knights crashed into the orc forces, sowing chaos among the attacker's ranks. He was fully armored from head to toe with Ashkandi in his right hand and his personalized lion shield on his left. The famous knight cut down greenskin after greenskin that got in his way. This group of orcs was only a few thousand strong, but was clearly no match for the five thousand knights who trampled on them with their mighty war steed.
The battle only lasted a half hour before the orcs' forces were routed. The green warriors broke when they saw their kinsmen flee by the dozens. The knights followed them with a flail in one hand and a mace in the other. To put it simply, it was a slaughter.
This was the eighth skirmish that they have encountered since their trek had begun. Again, it was only against a few thousand orcs and like before, they were crushed easily by Stormwind's numerically superior army, an army of seventy thousand strong. The easy victories were a morale booster. Yet, Lothar could not help but feel that something was off. They had won almost too easily.
Lothar looked around the battlefield and saw a knight about to finish a down orc with his lance.
"Hold!" Lothar commanded as he nudged his steed, Defender, to the knight.
"Milord?" the knight asked. He was Karos, an elite knight of the kingdom, a man in his early thirties with a neatly trimmed beard.
"We take this one in alive." Lothar looked around the battlefield littered with orcs. His eyes told him it was a good victory, but his instinct was screaming something else altogether. "I have questions."
"Aye, milord." The knight nodded before he dismounted and knocked the orc out with a strike from the hilt of his sword.
Seeing his orders done, Lothar allowed himself a final glance before he rode back to the main body of the army a few hundred yards away.
+++Temporary War Room +++
The army, victorious, marched for another twenty miles before they fortified their position for the night. Their conjurers cast defensive wards that would reinforce the palisades and serve as an early warning system. The men were served their meal while some took to sleeping right away. However, in the center of the encampment was the largest tent, the king's tent, and there, they did not rest but instead were discussing matters of great importance.
King Llane, Lothar, and the rest of the army commanders could be seen gathered around a map of their position in the Black Morass. On it were numerous one inch lion flags. Behind them were knocked-over orc figurines representing the enemy they had encountered and their victory over them. It showed them that their army was now five hundred miles into enemy territory. Over the table, there was a tense argument between the High Commander and a leader of the army.
"We seem to be making good time. I do not see your concern, Lord Lothar," Knight-Champion Wice, one of the commanders, said as he scanned the map again.
"And I am saying something is wrong." Lothar, the High Commander, was about to explain more when Medivh arrived with Khadgar and Garona in tow.
The assassin had proven to be somewhat cooperative in exchange for better treatment. Apparently, her loyalty to her fellow kinsmen wasn't that deep due to her half-breed origin. She had also enlightened them with the names of the orc leaders and even their strongest warlock. Overall, she had been helpful in getting a clearer picture of this so-called Horde.
The other men were somewhat aware of their prisoner-turned-informant. They gave only the most general of courtesy to the female orc, though warily, while others inclined their head toward the Guardian in a gesture of respect. They completely ignored the young mage apprentice.
"Good, you brought her here." Lothar's eyes scanned the newly arrived group. Finally, he was going to get answers.
"Are you going to fight her again?" Medivh joked. The orc female stared at him and bared her tusk once more, a challenging gesture from their race, he had learned.
"No." He turned to Karos and nodded. Some of the commanders saw his gesture and wondered what that was about.
Llane however remained silent as Lothar had already gotten his approval beforehand. Medivh raised an eyebrow but stayed silent also. After all, he was sure that Lothar would reveal all in due time. A moment later, people heard the sound of scuffling and a very noticeable orcish shout of anger.
Garona was the first to turn her head as the tent flap was opened and in came a bound orc warrior with three royal guardsmen flanking him. All had spears ready in hand to end the orc if they became a danger to the king. The orc was prodded forward with spears at his back, even while he was yelling something in orcish at his jailers. The orc then turned to the other humans with a sneer on his lips when he spotted the female orc.
"Garona!" The orc's tone was that of disbelief, confusion, and anger. He then said something to her in orcish when he noticed she was not chained like him.
"He knows you," King Llane finally spoke up for the first time. "You're more important than we thought."
"He knows of me," Garona replied and saw the grunt looked confused as to why she was talking to the human.
"Ask him why they are attacking our army in piecemeal," Lothar cut in and walked toward the orc. "Ask him why they are throwing their men's lives away like that?"
The orc growled as Lothar came closer and struggled against his chains when Garona's voice cut in and talked in the harsh language of her people. The grunt's attention turned from Lothar to answer Garona. It was almost as if he was afraid of her.
Lothar stepped back and watched Garona communicate with the confused orc. She said something else and the grunt answered with a chuckle. Not satisfied, she said more stuff in orcish. They could hear the questioning in her tone, and the grunt answered back every time. The last question took the grunt by surprise before he let out a bellowing laugh and then looked around the room before saying something else with a self-satisfied grin.
Garona was quiet after that as was the grunt. Something happened and Lothar wanted to know.
"Well?" he prompted.
Garona's eyes took in all of the humans in the room and put on a sympathetic expression.
"It appears what I warned you about has come to pass," Garona stated matter of factly. There was no joy or sadness in her tone, enough that she could have been discussing something as benign as the weather. "Your lands are under attack by the Horde. What you have fought thus far is only a small portion of the Horde forces under the command of Zuluhed the Whacked. They were ordered to find a path through your eastern mountains and sow terror upon your people."
The room was silent for a moment before it erupted into pandemonium.
"We must turn the army back!" It was Knight-Champion Wice who stated the obvious first, but the King kept his eyes on the female orc.
"Ask him how big is this Zuluhed force?" King Llane spoke up.
Garona turned to the orc grunt and asked a few more questions in their tongue. After a lengthy conversation that lasted minutes, she got her answer. "One hundred and fifty thousand, though broken up into groups of two or three thousand to scale your mountains."
"One hundred and fifty thousand?!" One of the commanders shouted in disbelief.
Lothar was of the same mind, but he did the math. While the numbers were obscenely large, if they pulled their forces from Elwynn and Westfall, they should be able to beat back the invaders with the militia from the cities. However, Garona's expression told him she wasn't done.
"There's more, isn't there?" Lothar saw the orc female nod as if it was none of her trouble.
"Another one hundred and fifty thousand led by Kargath Bladefist and the Shattered Hand were told to attack your forces here." Garona then approached the map and pointed at the Redridge. "It looks like they intend to, if not already, attack you from here to make sure your people cannot escape."
"By the Light..." Another commander spoke up, and the sentiment was shared by many of the humans in the tent.
Lothar felt as if he was being punished. Where he thought Callan would be safest was now the most dangerous. The Horde somehow outnumbered them by a large margin. Even fully mobilized now, they only had two hundred and some odd forty thousand soldiers. They needed to turn around right now.
"Llane!" Lothar looked to his friend whose expression was as grave as his own.
"Give the order to break camp. We must make haste back to Stormwind now!" King Llane commanded, and the leaders took strength from his steadiness.
"As my king commands!" Knight-Champion Wice was the first to answer before others joined him.
"If you do that, you are certain to die." Garona's words, uttered so apathetically, cut through the commander's resolve.
"What do you mean, Lady Garona?" King Llane asked. He saw the female orcs ask something else to the grunt who merely answered with a huff. The female orc nodded as if his answer was as she thought and locked eyes with the king.
"Because less than a day away are the leaders that you humiliated all those months ago along with the rest of the Horde," Garona stated simply and finished. "All two hundred thousand of them."
King Llane was stunned and sagged unceremoniously into his chair while the other commander had to lean on the table or steady themselves. The numbers were staggering.
"They aim to avenge their humiliation at your hands," Garona elaborated and glanced in Lothar's direction. "You especially."
"Me?" Lothar asked curiously. Was he that memorable to them?
"Your shield is distinct. They remember that it was you who drove them from the field," Garona clarified. "Do not expect a quick death."
"Five hundred thousand?" A commander laughed maniacally. "How could the Black Morass support a force of that size?!"
Another commander turned to Garona. "She is lying! She wants to sow fear among us!"
"That's right. She is an untrustworthy orc!" Knight-Champion Wice agreed as he glared at the assassin.
"Enough!" King Llane, who had gathered his wits, snapped. He turned to the royal cleric who, up until now, had been quiet. "I heard clerics are granted the gift of vision. Can you confirm if what she said is true?"
"I am not as gifted with it as some of the other high clerics, but I will try my best, my king." The royal cleric then held onto his staff and began to chant. All was fine until a soft yellow light began to emit from the holy man.
"Draenei!" The orc warrior roared in hatred and anger, making the cleric chant stop and look at the green brute. However, that did not placate the warrior as, with a roar, he broke the chains and charged at the cleric. "KIL DRAENEI!"
However before he could even take a step, three spears pierced his body, one being a sure kill stabbed through the throat.
"Kil...Drae–" The orc warrior grunted his last and died.
"Take him out," King Llane said in the ensuing silence before he turned to the frightened cleric. "Please continue."
"O-Of course, my king," the royal cleric said and began to chant again. It was when ten minutes had elapsed that a golden light enveloped the holy man. The cleric opened his eyes which were now filled with golden light and spoke. "I-I see them, my king! By the Light and all that is holy, I see them! An endless green tide of darkness, of death!"
"Are there as many as the female orc says?" a commander quickly asked.
"Yes, I think I see their leader. He is monstrously large and another orc is with him. I think he's a warlock. There are bones protruding from his back." The royal cleric sounded frightened as he gasped. "Those are human skulls!"
Garona's eyes widened before he turned to Llane. "Have your Light user break his connection now!"
"H-He sees me!"
The holy man shouted before there was a flash of green and a loud scream.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!"
The royal cleric was on the ground clawing at his eyes. Blood was pouring out between his hands.
"Cleric!" King Llane made to go to his cleric's side but found a blue barrier erected over the holy man. He looked up and saw Medivh with an outstretched hand.
"Get away from him!" Medivh shouted.
Everyone stumbled back in horror as the royal cleric's screams became more painful before green vein-like lines started to spread throughout his body. Within moments, he melted into a pile of flesh and bone.
"What in the Light's name..." one of the generals said, but his words ended when Medivh's barrier began rapidly filling up with blue flames. When it finally died down, there was nothing left but ash.
"Fel magic," Medivh said even as the other court conjurers had risen to their feet and readied themselves, their staves glowing with power. "Demon magic."
Lothar saw all of the commanders look to the king for guidance. Truth be told, he also did the same. He could see Llane thinking, though the king's eyes did not stay from the late royal cleric's ashes. The long and short of it was that they were heavily outnumbered with an army almost three times their size less than a day out from them. The Champion of Stormwind knew what he had to do.
"My king." Lothar's eyes went to the silent king. "You and Medivh must go back to Stormwind and organize our defenses."
"What?!" King Llane spoke for the first time since the cleric's death. He looked at his friend, incensed. "You want me to run away and abandon you all?!"
"Yes," Lothar replied easily. "It's the seventy thousand here against the millions in our kingdom."
"I will not run and leave my people!" Llane then looked to Medivh and the two court conjurers. "Medivh, surely with you, Hugarin, Huglar, and the conjurers in our army, we could open enough portals for us all to escape?"
Medivh only shook his head. "While I am powerful, to teleport that many men is impossible. With all the magi in our army, we would, at best, be able to save ten thousand souls. Then we would be stranded here and out of mana."
Llane's face was ashen before Lothar went to his side and put an arm on his shoulder.
"My friend, the kingdom needs you more than we do. You are who our people will rally around. With Medivh by your side, we might be able to bottle them up. Your people need you."
"My people here need me too," Llane answered in a hoarse whisper. That was when the commanders all stepped forward and let their thoughts be known.
"Your majesty, you must live."
"Stormwind cannot do without its king. You must go."
"Our families' safety is in your hands, sire, please return and save them."
King Llane balled his fist but realized that, for the good of the kingdom, he had to leave. "I...I shall return."
"Good." Lothar turned to Medivh. "Take him and the royal guards and go. And...if you can spare the time, save my son."
"I will, old friend/" Medivh clasped Lothar's arm. "I'll keep watch over him. I promise."
"Thank you." Lothar squeezed his old friend's shoulder gratefully before he let go and faced the king.
King Llane looked at all of his commanders and then finally at Lothar.
"Bring them home, Lothar. Stormwind needs her sons and daughters."
"As you command, my king," Lothar lied. They both knew it was false. "You have the harder job. Good luck."
"Let us go. Time is wasting," Medivh said as Garona, Khadgar, and the king's royal guards all stood together. A moment later, the Guardian channeled his arcane magic for a few minutes before in a burst of blue light, they were gone.
The war room was silent now as all the men now looked to Lothar. Even the conjurers and royal clerics did so.
"What are your orders, Lothar?" One of the generals, Garath, asked. His demeanor was resolute. "Do we abandon everything and race back to the gate? We might not have time to destroy everything, but it would be damaged at least."
Many felt that it was such a waste. Seven hundred catapults, gone like that, and they weren't easy to make. Then there were the supplies that they had carried with them from the kingdom…
Lothar was weighing what Garath suggested before he shook his head. Even if they made it back to the gate, that still left them with a two hundred thousand orc-sized problem. His men were looking to him for guidance. Even the court conjurers, who could have left at any time, stayed behind to wait for instruction.
"The orcs have been shown to be fast. There is a good chance they could overtake us on the retreat back. Our men would be easy prey then..."
The commanders did not want to hear it, but Lothar spoke true.
"Then what should we do?" Knight-Champion Wice asked, frustrated. "Make a futile last stand? Take as many of the bastards down with us as possible?"
"Yes." Lothar moved over to the map and looked at the paths they had traversed thus far. He then pointed with his finger to an area on the map. "But it won't be futile."
Everyone looked at the High Commander, unasked questions threatening to pour from their lips. Lothar saw it all and balled his fist and struck the same place on the map once more.
"We will make our stand here and bleed them white."
***Past, Present, Future – Cavern of Time***
Chronormu the bronze dragon, or Chromie for short, was not a happy camper. There have been too many incursions in the time stream lately. The latest one was at Durnholde Keep with the Horde future leader, Thrall, and his friend, Taretha Foxton.
Her clutch mate, Erozion, was the bronze in charge of stopping that incursion. Luckily, he was able to find five champions throughout time to help fight off the Infinite and set the timeline straight before they erased all memories of those involved.
"It is getting out of hand, I tell you!" Chromie pouted at her much taller brother. They were in their gnome and high elf form respectively.
"We can only protect time as best we can," Erozion said as he pointed to the errant time thread slowly being woven pack into the main line. "See? All is well."
"This time," Chromie said as she glanced over to where Sa'at's correction was still being integrated into the main timestream.
"Sa'at's job was more difficult than mine." Erozion came to his broodmate's defense upon seeing Chromie's critical stare. "I dealt with simple mortals and a very young Thrall. He dealt with Medivh. The scales are different."
"Mmmmm…." Chromie argued as she pulled up the time thread of the First War. Sure enough, she checked the Anchor Point that was Stormwind's destruction and it remained there still. In fact, it was getting likelier now that Stormwind would be sacked. Perhaps, maybe a bit sooner than it was originally supposed to be, but so long as their people died, then the time stream was safe.
Still… there was that one annoying-looking thread that kept wrapping and unwrapping around the main timeline.
It was so aggravating!
"No, Chromie," Erozion said as if reading her thoughts.
"But..." Chromie protested.
"No." Erozion was firm. "One incursion is enough. Let it play itself out. It will be fully healed when it gets to the anchor point. Stop worrying."
"...fine!" Chromie pouted but gave the errant annoying thread a death glare before she left. Already, she could sense five more champions being called through time. This time it had something to do with the Lich King.
TBC…
AN: Thank you once more for Icura for hooking it up in the editing department. It really is a hellish department! Next, thanks for all the discussions and comments! I really appreciate it!
And so it begins. I have to say these chapters are getting longer and longer -_-... I'll try to reel it in. Not much more I can say personally, just whatever you guys take away from this chapter