Disclaimer! I don't own Wow. Blizz does, and your soul too.
*** Capital City – 2 Weeks after invasion ***
It was yet another fair day in the Kingdom of Lordaeron as blue sky and sparse clouds made for an idyllic scenery. Such a day was not one to be wasted and two queens from different kingdoms felt as such. Messengers were put to work, and an agreement was quickly reached. In the mid-morning, the two royals made their way to the royal garden of Lordaeron.
Peerless knights from both kingdoms stood around on guard. One wore royal blue while the other in pristine white kept a sharp eye out for any signs of danger to their queens. Under their protection, the two queens and the princess sat under a canopy while snacking on pastries and observing two rambunctious children at play.
"You can't get me!" Prince Arthas cried out in glee as he ran away from his pursuer.
That pursuer being a blonde girl only a few months older than he was, chasing him around eagerly. Normally, noble children would not dare to break decorum and chase the prince around like this, but the blonde girl was not a noble child. She was in fact of commoner stock. However, despite her standing, the mother of the prince did not take offense at their mingling.
In the midst of all this, the little princess of the realm, Calia Menethil, all of eight years old, was daintily eating her snack while gazing forlornly at the playing children. The little princess mostly took after her mother, although her blonde hair was a shade lighter than that of her younger brother's. The two queens had pushed for her to play with the duo, but the little princess was determined to maintain a noble decorum.
"I envy you for your new chef, Taria," Queen Lianne of Lordaeron said teasingly. "Please tell young Callan to send the next such find to me. Wouldn't you like that, Calia?"
"Yes, please," the young princess responded primly. Too bad the bits of crumbs around her mouth ruined her seriousness.
The platinum-blonde queen merely watched in amusement before she took a handkerchief to her daughter and wiped the crumbs away. The little girl quickly realized what had just happened and turned red in mortification. The two queen mothers found the flustered girl's reaction adorable and laughed. Such moments were getting rarer now with what was happening in the world.
"I'll send him a missive and make it a royal decree," Queen Taria of Stormwind replied imperiously.
A moment later, the two women giggled again at the foreign queen's poor acting. To be honest, Taria had been perplexed about why Callan would send a peasant family to her. She had read his reason, vague as they were, but was it really necessary for her personally to take them in? Could he not send them to Victoria or one of the other knights in his employ? Of course, after tasting Clannia's cooking, she changed her mind. The dashing young man appeared to have dug up quite the gem in Lordaeron.
"Gotcha!" A girlish shout pierced the surrounding area.
The two queens turned to see the little prince tackled to the ground by the blonde commoner. She was now straddling him and smiling triumphantly for all to see. The princeling struggled for a couple of moments before tickling his playmate. The little girl quickly retaliated in kind. Not long afterward, the two began to roll around on the grass. While the two queens found it amusing, there was one more woman in their presence that was not.
"Taretha Foxton!" Clannia's voice cracked like a whip.
The woman was as beautiful as any noble lady of the court and had made quite a splash among the noblemen. Many had tried to woo her before she disclosed her marital and social status. Of course, that did not stop all of them, but those persistent pursuers had to contend with High Cleric Victoria. It seemed that Callan had asked her to keep an eye out for this family.
The little girl who heard the voice of her mother froze on the spot and did little to resist Arthas tackle of her. The boy sensed something was wrong when his playmate did not respond and, not a moment later, twin sets of blue eyes looked toward the canopy.
"Lady Clannia, it's quite alright," Queen Lianne assured the woman. "It's rare that I see Arthas this happy. If anything I should beg your forgiveness if my son hurt your daughter."
"My-my queen, it—no, he's royalty, and she—" Clannia tried to say otherwise, but a small shake of the head by her queen stilled her.
"Mama?" Taretha asked. She had been waiting for her scolding but none came forth.
"Continue playing, dearies," Queen Lianne said gently.
The young girl still wanted assurance and looked to her mother. Clannia's eyes shot to Lianne and once again the Queen reassured her with a soft nod. Seeing that the queen didn't take issue with her daughter, Clannia could only acquiesce and give her daughter a tight nod. Now reassured, Taretha turned to the prince with a devious expression.
"Tag, you're it!" She ignored Arthas' indignant cry of surprise and took off running.
"No fair!" Arthas shouted as he chased after her. "I wasn't ready!"
"Nah, nah! Too slow!" Taretha gleefully ran away.
The two queens smiled at one another. Lianne turned to her daughter and prodded her.
"Are you sure you don't want to go play with your brother and little Taretha?" the motherly woman asked. "They do seem to be enjoying themselves."
The little princess's eyes clearly showed her desire to join the group, but she still stubbornly shook her head. Seeing that, Queen Lianne could only share a helpless look with Taria.
"Quite the perfect little princess you've raised there, Lianne," Taria commented with a soft smile.
"Yes, she is." Lianne pursed her lips in amusement before her eyes filled with a mischievous light. "I'm afraid that little Calia is too mature for such games. Perhaps a playmate closer to her age would get her to open up."
"Well, I believe Lord Proudmoore said his wife and daughter intend to make the journey to Lordaeron," Taria stated. "That would be another princess for Calia here."
"True, but I was thinking more of the son of a certain queen. Didn't you say Varian is already eleven?" Lianne asked with a smile. "Only a few years difference with my little Calia. I think they would get along quite well."
"My dear queen Lianne." Taria leaned forward against the table with an arched eyebrow. "Are you perhaps playing matchmaker for your daughter?"
Calia, who had been eating realized what the two queens were talking about, blushed prettily. She was a princess and knew what her duty entailed, if not the specifics. Twin teasing yet soft laughters rained down on her at her reaction, making her pout.
"I do miss him, my son," Taria said softly. Her eyes stared far away as she recalled the rowdy little boy who loved playing knights and maidens. This was the longest she had ever been away from him, and she couldn't help but worry.
Lianne, seeing this, reached over and grasped her fellow queen's hand. "Take heart, Taria. Once the arcane portal is created, we should be able to freely travel between our cities. Then Varian would be just a stone's throw away from you."
Taria squeezed the older queen's hand for comfort and smiled at her. "That is true. Perhaps you could take your children to visit me in Stormwind. Our garden is quite beautiful and overlooks the great sea."
"I look forward to—" Queen Lianne stopped as she heard the heavy footfall of plated armor in the distance. Perhaps it was all the years with her husband, but she recognized the sound of his retinue anywhere.
"Lianne?" Taria asked, but she too soon heard the footfall.
"My husband approaches," Lianne said. Her eyebrows were furrowed. "He should be at court now."
A moment later, the king entered the garden, but he was not alone. Archmage Antonidas and Archbishop Alonsus Faol followed in his wake. All three men had a solemn expression on their faces. The children that were playing stopped as their childish intuition told them that something was wrong.
"My love." Queen Lianne and her friend stood up to greet her husband. "You seemed troubled. What has transpired that has wrought you so?"
King Terenas walked under the canopy with the two women. He looked at his wife as if trying to draw strength from her before he spoke. "I have received ill news, my love."
Taria's heart seized at his statement and looked to him for clarification. "What kind of ill news, King Terenas?"
"I have received a missive from Lord Mograine," the king began. "Thoras has failed to contain the Horde, and they have made it to our shores."
"No..." Queen Lianne said horrified. "How fares Thoras and the others?"
"I do not know." Terenas' eyes hardened. "The army was broken and overwhelmed. There is no word of him nor Prince Kael'thas."
"Tell us what happened, my love." Lianne walked next to her husband and took his hands into hers.
"Thoras was close to shutting the entryway to the Arathi Highland but was overwhelmed when the main Horde army flooded through," Terenas explained wearily. "Colonel Kadvan's wing was destroyed, and the Alliance forces were split. Thoras and Prince Kael'thas were last seen retreating northeast. The rest fled west to Stromgarde Keep."
"What of Callan?" Taria asked. She felt it might be selfish, but Callan was a part of her people, her responsibility. "Is he..."
"No. He lives but..." Terenas' expression became one of respect and sorrow. "He volunteered to stay behind and delay the Horde for as long as possible for us to deploy our forces."
"What? How?" Taria did not understand it. How could Callan delay the entire Horde?
"According to Alexandros, Callan speculated that the Horde would want to take Stromgarde Keep first," Terenas explained. "With that in mind, he ordered Alexandros to create a bulwark at Thoradin's Wall to deny the Horde entry into the Hillsbrad Foothills while he stayed and defended Stromgarde Keep."
It was Queen Lianne who gasped as she realized what Callan had done.
"What is it?" Taria asked. She didn't know much about the lands of Lordaeron, but her fellow queen did.
"If Alexandros forms that bulwark, then the Lordaeron mainland is saved, but Callan would still be behind enemy lines." Queen Lianne looked at her friend in sympathy. "The only way to save Callan is to lift the siege."
"And based on Nathanos current assessment, the earliest that we could even think about counter-attacking is two months out," Terenas explained regretfully. "For the foreseeable future, Callan is on his own."
Taria closed her eyes for only a second as she composed her thoughts. Upon opening her eyes, she looked to the Archmage.
"Archmage Antonidas, when do you think the arcane portal will be completed?"
"Not for another three weeks," the Dalaran mage replied.
"Ah..." Taria showed her disappointment. "I… I would have rather informed his father in person, but I can only trouble you, King Terenas, for your fastest ship to send a missive to our High Commander."
Taria was not looking forward to writing to their kingdom's greatest hero.
"Actually," Antonidas cut in easily. "If all you need is to talk, there are ways."
Taria and the rest of the royals looked at the man for clarification.
"Such a great spell work requires the strictest communication and for that, Grand Conjurer Aegwynn has developed a spell." With that, Antonidas pulled out a purple crystal ball.
Without much fanfare, the archmage placed his hand on the orb and—after a short chant—released it as mana motes filled the orb. The motes danced for a moment before it formed a very familiar image for Taria.
"Queen Taria," the image of Lady Aegwynn greeted her. The image only extended down to her bust before it cut off. It was then that the mage noticed the rest of the people around her queen. "What has happened?"
And so Taria told her. Lothar had to know. He deserved to know.
*** The Shield – 3 Weeks after invasion ***
"Hold the line, damn you! Hold the line, I say!" Thoras roared as he fought off a savage greenskin beast.
Holding the greatsword Trol'kalar in his hands, he traded blows with the brute. Every time the orc swung his axe, Thoras would match it with equal force, making the two rebound off of each other. Normally, Thoras would have followed up with an attack, but he was not in his normal state. Weeks of constant running and little sleep had greatly sapped his strength.
Thankfully, Uther came to his aid. The knight closed in from the side and took the orc off guard with his hammer swing. Blood and brain matter splattered from the impact as the Lordaeron knight moved closer to protect him. This allowed Thoras to take a look at his surroundings.
The Shield was a town situated to the northwest in the Arathi Highland. It was, as it was named, supposed to act as a Shield for Stromgarde against the forest in the Hinterlands. Initially, it was a fort that stood alone, but because a town sprang up around it, a secondary set of walls standing fifteen feet tall was erected around it. Now, the Shield walls were being scaled by those damnable orcs, threatening to flood the town in a tide of green.
Thoras would die before he let that happen.
"We can't last much longer, Kael'thas!" Thoras roared. "How much more before you can cast the spell?!"
"It's ready now!" the prince of Silvermoon shouted in reply.
Moments after, a chorus of arcane words echoed in the air before rains of sharp ice the size of a man's head rained down on the orcs on the battlement wall. The prince and his mages' movement was frantic and hurriedly, gone was the graceful spell weaving of the past.
Between his eighteen thousand men and the Shield's own ten thousand garrisons, Thoras hoped they could force the Horde to back off. To his dismay, the Horde was not deterred and had even breached their walls in several areas. The town walls simply were not designed for this kind of siege.
So Thoras did the only thing he could do: fight harder. Eventually, thanks to his soldiers' tenacity combined with Kael'thas' mages, they managed to hold the wall just as night fell. It was also the first victory they had over the Horde, but there was no time to celebrate. Many of the men who had followed him from the Battle of Ignaeus Pass collapsed on the spot from fatigue. Thankfully, the Shield's garrison was still fresh and took up the night's watch.
With the small reprieve, Thoras and his command sat within sight of the wall and discussed their options.
"What's our casualties?" Thoras asked first. There was a haggard priest, one of their few survivors, tending to his wound. The golden light in his hand was faint, almost like a flickering candle.
"Two thousand dead, three thousand wounded," Uther replied. His stern visage showed flecks of red, blood from the orcs he had killed. "If they press us hard tomorrow, we're going to be overrun. I recommend we go to the fort and try to hold out there. The walls are higher there, and these orcs do not have any siege weapons. They can only do little to us."
Thoras gave Uther a deep look as he considered the merits of such a move.
"No," he said finally. "With us and the twenty thousand peasants, the food would be consumed at a much quicker pace. They would just surround us and slowly starve us out."
"Perhaps we can go into the Hinterland and seek refuge with the Wildhammer Dwarves?" Uther put forth. "Callan did mention that they might be open to an Alliance. Perhaps they have already joined."
Thoras slowly shook his head.
"You may not know this because you're not from here, but..." The ruler of Stromgarde pointed in the direction of the Hinterland. "Right beyond there is a series of forest troll enclaves. They used to raid our lands to capture our people for food or for their dark rituals. That was why we built the Shield."
The Stromgarde King conveyed the seriousness of the threat beyond. All understood that even if they forced their way into the Hinterlands, if they got bogged down because of fighting the trolls then there was a very good chance the Horde would catch up to them. At that point, they would be sandwiched between two hostile forces.
"Then it is time for you to get to safety," Kael'thas said.
"No!" Thoras growled out. "I will not abandon my men, my people, and leave them to die!"
"They are all dead with or without you here with them. Your kingdom needs you!" The usually soft-spoken prince chastised the human king. "At least with you alive, your surviving people can rally, but if you die then Stromgarde as a kingdom would cease to exist!"
"There is still Galen, my son and heir," the Stromgarde king retorted. "Even if I should fall, then my people would rally to him!"
"He is a fifteen-year-old lad!" Uther had heard enough. "That burden is too much for one so young!"
"The people of Strom have always been forged in fire," Thoras said. "He will learn and succeed."
Thoras thoughts turned to his son. Galen would have to rise up like generations of Trollbane's before him to rebuild the kingdom. He couldn't even imagine how much havoc the Horde was causing right now in his kingdom. How many of his people have they butchered?
After the disastrous battle at Ignaeus Pass, Kael'thas could have teleported King Trollbane to Dalaran. It was a high-level spell that only powerful archmages like himself could cast. However, its drawback was that the more people he had to bring along with him, the more mana he was required to consume. Kael'thas had put the number of people he could teleport in his current state, at fifty. That was little compared to the thousands they would have to leave behind, and that did not sit well with the king.
To be fair, even Uther and Kael'thas felt sick at the idea of leaving so many behind to their deaths, but the other kingdoms needed to be warned. For better or worse, Thoras had stood his ground, but the Horde had blocked off their escape. They were pushed further away from the Hillsbrad Foothills day by day until they ended up here.
"However..." The large bear of a man broke the silence. "That does not mean you and Uther have to stay here and die foolishly with me. Kael'thas is too important to the Alliance and Terenas will need your expertise in the dark days ahead, Uther."
"I have pledged myself to your cause and will remain with you to fulfill it," Uther said firmly. "However, there is wisdom in sending Prince Kael'thas away."
The elven prince's eyes widened before he looked to the sky as if beseeching to a higher power. A moment later, he exhaled heavily and gave the two men a hard look.
"I will not be the one to flee while you two stay," he flatly rejected. "You'll find that the elves of Silvermoon are just as fearless, if not more than their human allies."
"But the kingdoms need to know, my prince." Uther pointed out. "They need to know the Horde is coming."
"I would have agreed had it been three weeks ago," Kael'thas countered. "By this point, the Alliance would have certainly heard of our defeat or have you two forgotten that Callan trailed behind us?"
Kael'thas was right, Thoras thought, Callan would have recognized he was outnumbered and fallen back to the wall. Knowing that made him feel better. He looked to the elf prince once more.
"I still say you should leave." Thoras stubbornly hoped to convince the prince. "At least I have an heir. You are your father's only heir."
"If things look dire and all is lost, I will take as many as I can with me," the blonde elven prince grudgingly said. "However, until then, I will stand by your side as a brother in arms."
Thoras exhaled deeply. "Fine. Since you want to foolishly stay with us humans, then you are welcome to it."
"I knew you would see things my way," Kael'thas said in a light tone. Thoras could only sneer at him.
'Damn stubborn elf,' Thoras thought. At least he got the prince to sort of agree to flee if things turned disastrous. Suddenly, a fatalistic thought crossed his mind, and he abruptly stood up.
"Well, since we are going to die even if we stay here, then I don't see the point of not trying to get to the Wildhammer Dwarves," Thoras voiced his thoughts.
"Are you sure you'd want to cross north into the Hinterlands?" Uther asked in surprise.
"I'd rather die on my feet—sword in hand—than starve to death, at the mercy of their foul magics," Thoras replied seriously.
"Then, might I suggest we leave under the cover of night and get a head start on the Horde?" Kael'thas voice his thoughts.
Thoras only took a moment before he realized there was one other thing he could do.
"Call my nephew," the king of Stromgarde said. "I have a task for him."
+++
Grom Hellscream would never admit to it even under torture, but the pursuit of the humans made him weary. Every time he thought he had his prey corner they slipped through his hands like water. Failure was expected even from the most veteran of hunters, but to repeatedly have their prey elude them was frustrating.
It wasn't until the humans retreated into one of their walled towns that Grom finally saw an end to their hunt. He had hoped to overwhelm them quickly, but the humans had fresh warriors to fight his weary ones. They were unable to take the wall, but that would not be a problem for long.
While his warriors rested, the goblins were made to work through the night to build ladders that would grip the wall. Now, a new day dawned, and he intended to dig the humans out of their hovel. None would be spared his wrath.
It was in the early morning that Grom Hellscream mounted his wolf and approached the human settlement. He sneered when he saw the walls were manned by the humans as if waiting for them. It appeared they had accepted their death.
"Gargok!" Grom called for his Warsong clansmen. A large arc with mishmash armor rode to his side.
"Yes, Warchief!" the large orc acknowledged.
"Our wolf riders will hold here," Grom said as he looked at the army around him. "Our grunts will have the honor of first blood!"
The grunts were the warriors on foot. They had suffered the most in pursuit of their elusive foe. Now, he was allowing them to unleash all of their hatred and anger on the humans before them.
"Warriors of the Horde!" Grom bellowed as he raised his axe, Gorehowl. "ATTACK!"
"RAGGHHHH!" The warriors screamed in a frenzy.
Grom would never get tired of seeing the sea of green bodies that blanked the ground stream forward. This was the might of the Horde on full display. No doubt, the humans on the walls were cowering in fear. He watched as his warriors got closer and closer to walls along with the ladder bearers.
"Hah! Look at that warchief!" Gargok laughed mockingly. "They are so frightened by our warriors that they can hardly move!"
Grow brow furrowed. His instinct was telling him that something was off. The pinkskins he had been pursuing could be called many things, but coward wasn't one of them. They fought when they needed to and ran away when it suited them. Why would such a people let his army and his ladder bearers approach their walls unchallenged?
The Warsong chieftain tightened his grip on Gorehowl as he watched his warriors finally arrive at the wall. Hastily, they slammed the ladders onto the walls and climbed up. Grom saw the first warrior on the wall attack the human warrior and beheaded him cleanly. That same scene was repeated along the entire length of the wall. Instead of frenzy triumphant as was normal when cutting down a foe, the orcs on the walls were milling about, confused. Their attitude began to infect the rest of the orcs outside of the wall waiting their turn. Was it some human magick that was making his soldiers act this way?
A few minutes later, one of the warriors ran over to him and showed the decapitated head of the 'human soldier'.
"What is the meaning of this?" Gargok asked, confused. In the grunt's hand was a human helmet, but the head was made of ice. "Some kind of trick?"
By this point, the gates of the human town were opened, and his warriors began to stream in, hoping to find their prey. Grom suspected that they would find none. His prey had fled once again.
"Rekshak!" the Warsong chieftain called another one of his trusted warriors. Like Gargok, he had begun to armor himself. "Take your wolf riders and search for their tracks. I want to know where they've gone!"
"Warchief!" Rekshak pounded his hand to his chest and rode off in the company of a few hundred wolf riders.
Grom watched as his warriors streamed into the city in the hopes of finding prey, but he knew it would be futile. His attention was taken away when he saw the messenger who he had sent to Ner'zhul over a week ago finally return. The reason he sent such a messenger was because, during a fierce battle a week ago, his shamans were suddenly unable to cast spells. That allowed the humans to slip through his grasp just as he had them boxed in.
After the battle was over, the shamans could not explain why the spirits had not answered and worse, his warriors' morale took a hit thinking the spirits had abandoned them once again. Grom wanted answers and he would have them and was forced to delay his pursuit for a few days. Though he had his wolf riders ghost their forces to remind them that they had not escaped..
The Warsong chieftain sent his fastest rider to Ner'zhul in search of an answer. He didn't realize he didn't need to as his shamans recovered from whatever ailed them a few days later. That settled the matter with his warriors, but the shamans with him confided that the spirits still felt sluggish. As long as they could still fight, Grom did not care and renewed his pursuit once more.
He watched as the messenger approached him respectfully.
"Greetings, mighty Warchief," the orc warrior pounded his chest in greeting. "I bring news from the Great Shaman, Ner'zhul."
"Does he know what happened to my shamans?" Grom demanded.
"He does, indeed Warchief," the orc messenger replied. "Our great spirits were wounded by a foul Light user."
Grom became deadly still. "Explain. Now."
"The Great Shaman had used his great magic to summon the Firelord to this land," the messenger hurriedly answered. "He wanted to destroy the human city as they had proven more...tenacious than he had expected. He did not expect the human to call upon the Draenei Light and slay the great Firelord. The Great Shaman said the cowardly attack was what temporarily severed our shamans' connection to the spirits."
The small but mighty Chieftain of the Warsong clan realized something after hearing the messenger's words. "The human city still stands?"
"Yes, Warchief," the messenger replied after a moment of hesitation. "I was there for a day and witnessed the humans push our warrior back from the tall walls."
"What is Ner'zhul doing?" Grom growled in irritation. "I should have known not to send a mystic to fight a warrior's battle!"
Suddenly, Grom heard panicked cries from his warriors in the direction of the human settlement. He watched as thick dark smoke rose into the sky and was soon followed by a blaze. The human set a trap for them while at the same time denying him the use of their town.
Those ancestors damned humans!
"Gargok!" Grom growled. "Take the warriors of the smaller clans that had joined up with us and pursue them. No mercy. Do you understand me?"
"Yes, Warchief!" the orc replied before riding off.
The Warsong chieftain would not waste his clan powerful warriors on crippled enemies. It was time for the smaller clans to earn their keep and prove their worth to his Horde. In the meantime, he will travel south and teach Ner'zhul how to take a city.
"Warsong Warriors!" Grom bellowed. "With me!"
*** Mountains outside of Stromgarde Keep – 4 Weeks After Invasion***
"What a shame," Tyrygosa, princess of the blue dragon flight, said to her companion.
The princess of the Blue Dragonflight chose to wear her humanoid draconic form today. Its appearance was a mixture of both her elven and draconic traits. The end result was a body of elven origin while her head had two massive dragon horns jutting out from it. Usually, she preferred a pure high-elven form, but she wanted to try something different today. The result was quite aesheically pleasing if she did say so herself.
At the moment, she was on a mountain top, overlooking the human city of Stromgarde Keep. The mountain was situated to the city's north, and it allowed her a clear view of the battle taking place. To prevent prying eyes from both the humans and the orcs, the area shrouded by a protective bubble that doubled as a powerful magical shield.
The reason she needed such a barrier was that, after the first week of the battle between the humans and invaders from another world, Tyrygosa had developed a healthy respect for the mortals' magical abilities. She still remembered the backwash of energy as the shamans of the Horde worked together. She had been unprepared for such a spell level and nearly suffered for it.
Then there was their summoning of a foul elemental lord of the highest caliber. She was close to fleeing to gather more of her brood mates to battle the evil being when the human's counterattack rendered her actions moot. That was when she, the princess of the blue flight, a dragon species that specialized in arcane magic, developed a healthy respect for the Light. Simply put, she never knew the Light could be used in such a way.
Her broodmates had studied it in ages past and concluded that its primary function was niche at best. When you wielded power over the arcane, of fire and ice, that could even breathe life into inanimate objects, healing a cough became quite quaint in comparison. Not so with what the humans had achieved.
They struck down an Elemental Lord with the Light! Had Tyrygosa been forced into the same position, she would have required at least a dozen elder dragons and the largest ice spell known to Azeroth to just push the Firelord back. Yet, she could not even begin to fathom the results of such a strike. Was the Elemental Lord dead? Perhaps he was crippled?
It was hard to say and even harder to guess at with the evidence that remained behind. The orcs' summoning of the Firelord had tainted and foul the grounds in front of the keep. Yet the Light strike had, in an unexpected twist, cleansed the taint. The green and red flight would not need to expend much effort to bring life back to the land. Even though the grounds were…consecrated, after a fashion, there was still a small rift beneath the charred land where the summoning portal remained. For now, it posed no threat, but she would have to check up on it in a century or two.
After those two powerful spells, Kalecgos helped her to create a sturdy magical barrier. Now, she could watch the battle without worry. To her everlasting disappointment, no major spells were used afterward. The orcs choose to boringly attack the human's defenses with brute force. The humans responded in kind.
Kalegcos speculated that such a great Light spell was not without cost. Otherwise, why not just drop another on the orcs? Now, with weeks of data, she was beginning to conclude that the magical capabilities of both sides were greatly diminished. It stood to reason that there was a price for such a powerful display of magic. The shamans paid for their spell with their lives; what did these human priests have to sacrifice?
Unfortunately, the humans were still losing more people by the day and gaps were showing up in their defenses. It felt like it was only a matter of time before the humans broke before the Horde. Of course, Tyrygosa's blue eyes were looking at the reason why the humans had been able to hold on for so long.
He was young, even by mortal standards, and armored in plate bearing the regal lion of the human kingdom of Stormwind on his breastplate. In his left hand, he carried a large kite shield, and in his right, a well-crafted arcanite blade. He darted between the gaps in their lines, administering healing to the wounded while dealing out punishment to the orcs. The versatile manner in which he wielded the Light was very interesting to Tyrygosa, from an academic standpoint, of course.
"Looks like your human is working hard yet again, Eraus," Tyrygosa teased her 'friend'.
"He is not my human," Eraus, the princess of the Infinite flight, denied.
Unlike Tyrygosa, the Infinite Dragonflight princess did not show any obvious draconic features. Instead, the dragon from the future had chosen to take a human form with dark hair, makeup, and eye color. If she didn't know better, she would have said that she was trying to mimic the hateful black dragon flight. However, while the Infinite Flight had dark scales, they were a shade lighter than Deathwing's abominable broods.
"I think you protest too much, Eraus," Tyrygosa looked slyly at her friend. "After all, you decided to wear his colors today."
"What are you talking about? Eraus's eyebrows furrow.
Tyrygosa scoffed at her companion's blatant evasion and walked up to her. Reaching her hand out, she grabbed a lock from the Infinite dragon princess' hair and showed it to her. While the hair was black, there was a lock of gold that stood out, actually, upon closer examination. The sandy gold color even went all the way to the root.
"How..." Eraus whispered and slowly reached out to touch it.
Tyrygosa blinked and did not know how to react to Eraus's unexpected reaction so she backed away. Instead, she turned her attention back to the human and watched as he used the Light in that unique offensive way he did to battle and wade into a group of orcs.
"Do you think they'll breach the walls today?" Tyrygosa asked casually. "They've been pressing hard lately."
"No," Eraus replied without hesitation. "So long as he stands, they will not fall."
Tyrygosa gave her friend a playful smile. "Again, such faith in your human."
Eraus chose to ignore her teasing, but Tyrygosa knew that her friend was fond of the human. In truth, she had grown fond of him too, something she could scarcely believe possible. Months of observing his silly antics made her smile more times than she could recall in the past century.
Their whole endeavor started when the Infinite Flight approached her father and revealed a horrible truth. Tyrygosa did not want to believe that the Bronze would betray her flight and would even contribute to her father's death in the future, but the evidence was undeniable. The future bronze flight promised that they were fighting for a better future, to stop the absolute destruction of Azeroth. The reason for that, they said, was because of one person.
Her father, the great aspect of magic, Malygos, did not completely trust the Infinite Flight, but he couldn't ignore their words. Although he had not joined hands with them, he would not assist the Bronze in the interim either. Instead, he sent her, his daughter, and one of his sons to observe the humans that were responsible for this change. Since the Infinite Flight was also observing him, they decided to make this a joint venture.
Tyrygosa was taken out of her musing when a powerful surge of magic was detected behind her. Turning around, she was able to see Kalecgos teleport inside her barrier just in time. He had gone scouting earlier to see if any human reinforcement was near. Kalecgos was always fond of the mortal races so he was extremely sympathetic to their plight.
"Any signs of relief for Eraus' human, Kalec?" Tyrygosa asked teasingly as her eyes drifted over to the dark humanoid beauty.
The Infinite princess ignored her barb but appeared very interested in Kalecgos' news.
"No," Kalecgos replied. Like Eraus, he too chose a human form, but instead of her dark looks, he had blue hair to denote his flight. "They are still fortifying the bulwark at the wall."
"Ah...what a shame." Tyrygosa meant it as she turned back to the tense battle on the walls. The human was casting Light spells to heal his men while he continued rushing to the gaps made by the orcs. "You know, we could help him a bit. It is not odd for dragons to attack mortal races from time to time."
"No." Eraus' eyes shot a warning look at the blue dragon princess. She then exhaled and returned her gaze to the battle. "We are not allowed to interfere unless it's the Bronze flight."
"We are not part of your flight," Tyrygosa countered easily. "If we want to attack the Horde, we could."
"Your father's orders were for you to observe and nothing else," Eraus reminded her.
Smokey coal eyes met glowing blue as the two dragon princesses from their respective flight stared each other down. It was the latter who conceded with a sigh and threw her hand up into the air.
"Fine." She pouted. "But if he dies, it'll be your fault!"
"He won't die." Eraus's tone did not sound as convincing as she would have liked.
Tyrygosa saw proof of this when the dark dragon girl subtly balled her fist. All they could do now was watch over the humans and root for their victory, even if their situation was becoming grimmer by the day.
'You better live.' Tyrygosa silently willed the interesting human to hear her thoughts.
TBC...
AN: Meanwhile~~~
First of all thanks to Icura for helping me edit this chapter! Thanks a bunch!
Secondly, thank to all the patrons, your continued support means a lot and I am ever, ever, grateful! Thank you again!
Well well well, an interlude slash break from the intense battle. Its pillow talk time now That said, Arthas can't never say Uncle Callan never got him anything. Although how does it work if there are two childhood friends? Mmmm MMM?! Thoras got his little gambit and the consequences of what happened echoed over most of Lordaeron, for shamans at least. Finally you have one my favorite and criminally underused Blue dragon, the Princess herself, Tyrygosa. It used to be Tyragosa like Tyra Banks but they retcon it. And of course whatever could be happening to the Infinite? I wonder.
Hope you enjoy this interlude and I'll be making a map to go with it. You know as a state of things.
As always please consider supporting us on patron, link in the sig.
Finally, as always C+C welcomed, discussion eternally appreciated
Special Author's note:
On a very personal note, it has been a year since my dad passed away. Well, a year plus one day as of the posting of this chapter. I wanted to say thank you for all your kind words back then and support. Yes we are all stranger and you all wouldn't know me from any random scrubs on the street, but, your well wishes and support was sincere and though I didn't respond too much to it then, know that it meant a lot.
So, the dark times are over and I am doing okay.
This story, which was started on a whim, now means a lot more to me due to you guys response in that trying time. And so it is one I intend to see finished, I will do my best to not falter but there is no better way for me to say thank you I think. So please, continue to enjoy the ride that is Callan Lothar , we going places.