The treachery within their ranks had sown chaos and dealt a grievous blow to the Concord's advance, but it had not broken their resolve. The initial shock and confusion gave way to a grim determination, a desperate refusal to be undone by betrayal so close to their goal. The battle for Morrathiel's gates had begun, a brutal, climactic clash against Selene's main forces and the relentless tide of Skarnwraiths, with the added horror of fighting their former allies.
King Theron Vaelorin, his face grim with the weight of command and the sting of betrayal, rallied the remaining Vaelorin and loyal Draventhall and Solmorae forces. His silver sword, stained with the blood of both Skarnwraiths and traitors, pointed towards the looming Citadel. "They seek to break us from within, but they will not succeed! For the fallen, for the light that was Morrathiel, we will take those gates!"
Beside him, Lord Kaelen Bloodhowl, his primal fury now focused and cold, led the charge of the Ulvaren berserkers against the Skarnwraith legions that poured forth from the Citadel gates. Their axes, stained crimson, cleaved through bone and mist with savage abandon, their howls a defiant roar against the mournful wails of the undead.
Queen Maelis Wildheart and Queen Lyra, their faces etched with sorrow and grim determination, directed the remaining Tir Vareth healers, their lumina torches burning brightly, creating pockets of protective light amidst the encroaching shadows. They moved amongst the fighting, tending to the wounded, their moonpetal essence a precious balm against the Skarnwraiths' life-draining touch, while simultaneously unleashing focused beams of verdant energy to disrupt the undead.
Lady Seraphina, her eyes blazing with righteous fury, led the loyal Solmorae mystics in a counter-assault against their corrupted brethren. Ancient wards flared, deflecting blasts of shadow magic, while powerful banishment rituals tore through the possessed, freeing their minds with agonizing screams as the dark influence was purged.
Warden Kyros Starseeker and his Nytherian astronomers, having narrowly survived the initial treachery, focused their celestial energies, amplifying the moonlight through their crystal lenses into searing beams of pure light that lanced through the Skarnwraith ranks, causing the shadowy mist to writhe and dissipate, the skeletal forms momentarily vulnerable.
Captain Brek Ironjaw, though wounded, bellowed commands to the remaining loyal Draventhall engineers, directing the deployment of their "bone-breaker" devices. The concussive blasts tore through the massed Skarnwraiths at the gates, creating temporary breaches in their relentless advance, even as Brek himself fought with a grim ferocity, his massive warhammer shattering bone and scattering unholy dust.
The battle for Morrathiel's gates was a maelstrom of clashing steel, primal fury, arcane energies, and the chilling wails of the undead. The Skarnwraiths, their numbers seemingly endless, surged forward, driven by the malevolent will of Selene and the Hollow Brood. They clawed and tore at the defenders, their life-draining touch claiming lives with horrifying speed.
The corrupted Draventhall and Solmorae warriors fought with a terrifying, unnatural focus, their knowledge of their former allies' tactics turned against them with brutal efficiency. The Concord forces found themselves fighting on two fronts, the horror of facing their possessed brethren adding a layer of agonizing complexity to the already desperate struggle.
Lord Valerius, the Vaelen commander who had led the defense of Fort Grimfang, stood at the forefront of the Vaelorin ranks, his silver sword a beacon of defiance. He rallied his warriors, their disciplined formations holding against the relentless Skarnwraith tide, even as they were forced to watch their former allies fight against them.
Elara Vaelorin and Kaelen Bloodhowl fought side-by-side, their movements a seamless dance of silvered steel and primal fury. Their forbidden love, once a secret whisper in the moonlight, now fueled their desperate defense of the alliance they had both come to believe in. They moved as one, their combined strength a bulwark against the encroaching darkness and the bitter sting of betrayal.
The battle raged at the very threshold of the corrupted kingdom, the fate of the Concord hanging precariously in the balance. The gates of the Sunstone Citadel loomed, a symbol of the darkness they sought to overcome. Each fallen warrior on either side was a testament to the terrible cost of this war.
Slowly, painstakingly, the Concord forces began to push back. The combined effect of the Tir Vareth light, the Nytherian celestial energies, and the raw power of the Ulvaren berserkers began to take its toll on the Skarnwraith legions. The loyal Solmorae mystics, fueled by righteous fury, managed to break the control over some of their corrupted brethren, the freed warriors turning their weapons against their former masters with cries of anguish and regret. The concussive blasts of the Draventhall "bone-breakers" created breaches in the undead ranks, allowing the Concord warriors to gain precious ground.
The ground before the Citadel gates became a charnel field, littered with shattered bone, dissipating mist, and the bodies of fallen heroes and traitors alike. The air was thick with the stench of death and the echoes of battle. But amidst the carnage, the banners of the six kingdoms still flew, tattered but unbroken, a testament to their enduring resolve.
With a final, desperate surge, the Concord forces, led by their monarchs and their most valiant warriors, pushed through the decimated Skarnwraith ranks and reached the gates of the Sunstone Citadel. The massive iron-bound doors, warped and corrupted by dark magic, stood as the final barrier between them and the heart of the darkness. The battle for Morrathiel's gates had been won, but the true confrontation, the battle for Selene's soul and the fate of the seven kingdoms, had only just begun. The cost of victory had been immense, a stark reminder of the devastating power of their enemy and the bitter sting of treachery, but the unified Concord, though fragile and weary, stood ready to face the darkness within.