Karp
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Chapter 95
🕑 Added 2024-10-30 18:21:08 +0000 UTCThree more days had passed since the dark ritual over Deatholme had begun.
The sky was black with clouds tinted with a red hue. It almost reminded Varrus of the effect Auriel’s Bow had in Skyrim when a blood tipped arrow was shot into the air.
When Varrus first saw this phenomenon, he had cast Change Weather, however, whenever he cleared the sky, the clouds would come back with a rumble. No matter how many times he tried to clear the air, it was pointless.
As any fan of games/anime knew, sitting around and waiting for an enemy to complete their transformation was the height of stupidity.
However, with the barrier in place, there were 3 options available to Varrus to disrupt the ritual.
1) stealth/assassination
2) full frontal assault
3) bombardment
Varrus chose not to go on a stealth mission this time around due to the extreme amount of branches, and vines littering the ground. Based upon scouting reports, Varrus knew that the slightest tremor could alert the enemy to his presence. So even if he was invisible, he didn't want to chance an infiltration, only to be discovered, and dogpiled by an entire army.
Next was the option of a direct assault.
Now, of course, the Blood Elven forces could have physically entered the range of the walls, like the Undead did at Tranquillien, and tried to disrupt the ritual ASAP. However, Varrus had neither the expendable manpower, nor the inclination to undertake such a risk. No, he’d rather take the safe bet, and pound away at Deatholme until he could crack the citywide shield like an egg.
Since he couldn’t disrupt whatever ritual was taking place within the fortress city in a short time frame without incurring massive risks, Varrus decided he would conduct the siege the best way he could.
With direct attacks!
Situated atop the adhoc fortress made from the spell, Raise Wall, Varrus had been spell slinging like he never had before.
For three long days, all Varrus knew was attack. He relentlessly swapped between Forbidden Sun, Lightning Storm, and Apocalypse in an effort to put a stop to whatever plot Lana’thel had going down.
Large, vibrant balls of fire came crashing down one after another. Massive beams of lightning crackled endlessly, and pulsed against the barrier. Finally, the awe inspiring power of the Apocalypse spell brought down frost, flame, and lightning in a never ending torrent of destruction.
At the same time, the turrets Varrus had put in place were blasting away, chipping at the citywide defense one explosive fireball at a time.
Gradually, the barrier began to diminish in vibrancy, and was turning from a solid deep azure blue, to a light, almost translucent color. The time for an all out push was soon approaching. Varrus’s game-sense was telling him that anything that had a change in color like that was on the verge of collapse.
Varrus felt like a madman with how many spells he had thrown at the shield, yet his actions had yielded results. It was almost time to breach the city. Then the slaughter could begin in earnest.
Halting his latest spell, Varrus knew that if he pushed much harder, the barrier would pop. He wanted to prepare all his forces before such an event occurred, as well as show Lana’thel a little surprise.
Picking up his scrying orb, Varrus issued a general order to the various armies and groups.
[All forces mobilize. The citywide shield is about to burst. Prepare for attack!]
“Care for a cookie?” Syra came up to him with a tray, and offered a chocolate chip cookie.
Varrus blearily rubbed bagged eyes, and reached for a confectionery treat with a smile on his face.
“Mnm, egshelent as always, my love.” Varrus praised between bites.
“Are we almost ready to attack?” Syra eagerly asked, planting a kiss on Varrus’s cheek.
“Yep, as soon as our troops move into place, we’ll be all set.” Varrus nodded at Syra, then glanced down the wall he stood upon, and assessed the units gathering into formation below.
With the added Darkfallen under Nightsong, and the garrison force of Tranquillien in attendance, this was the largest army assembled under Silvermoon’s banner since the Scourge first invaded several months ago. Approaching a number close to 100,000 Elves, more than a quarter of the entire population had mobilized for this grand event.
Close to 28,000 Arcane Golems took to the front, and over a thousand Dragonhawk Knights soared in the air.
Potions were being handed out left and right, in great supply, and priests were applying buffs to the masses. After many encounters within the forest against toxic trees and plants, anti-poison potions, and spells were prioritized.
For the upcoming battle, Kael’Thas was in command of the left flank, Nightsong/Lor’themar shared the right, and Varrus lead the center. With his command of the most Heroes, it was deemed that he would take the largest risk, and take the vanguard. Varrus was somewhat reluctant to be the target of focused fire, but the logic was sound. The soldiers with the best gear, and highest skill should be the ones to face the fiercest fighting.
Varrus took ahold of Syra’s hand, and stared into her bright golden eyes once more, as had become his usual pre-battle ritual.
She squeezed back, and Varrus nodded.
This was it. Deatholme was the final bastion of Scourge resistance within Quel’Thalas. Victory here meant they would be free to rebuild, and rearm their kingdom for the perils to come.
Varrus then attuned himself with his scrying orb, and then magically projected his voice, so it could be heard down below the fort.
“People of Quel’Thalas, this is your First Seat, Varrus Vandercross speaking. Today is the last day the Scourge lay claim to this land. It is a day we will be telling in song and dance for generations to come! Be proud, children of Silvermoon! Be proud, for you stand on the cusp of total victory! Hold on to whatever emotion lies in your heart, whether that be anger, sorrow, or love, and let me hear you roar that emotion to the heavens, let the Scourge know of your defiance! Let them know who we are! Let them know we do not forgive, nor do we forget!” Varrus’s voice boomed across the fields directly in front of Deatholme.
An incomprehensible roar of vengeance erupted from the throats of aggrieved Elves in response.
Varrus’s Speech ability roused everyone's morale, and Imposing Presence began to affect all who heard or saw him. During the event, he tossed out Call to Arms upon every friendly troop he could see, and applied all the buffs under the Illusion skill tree.
Raising his arms high, Varrus addressed the Elves eager for vengeance one last time.
“Your months of campaigning, of long hours suffering in silence, or training to relearn long lost skills has not gone unnoticed! Your sweat, blood, and tears have all culminated in this one final moment! People of Quel’Thalas. Give. Them. HELL!” Varrus finished his speech with a drop of his hand.
A second later, hundreds of fully charged Mana Stones that were standing in place fell upon Acceleration Runes. Within a moment, roughly 250~ of the crystalline objects (worth half of his current reserves) zipped forward toward Deathome like a rain of comets.
The resulting explosion was so mighty, so cataclysmic, that Varrus began to worry that he may be too close to the impact. A bright white Arcane wave of energy spread out against the barrier in 360 degrees, and escaped in every direction encompassing at least 1-3 miles. Varrus could only sigh in relief when he saw the blinding white light stop just shy of his own line.
What an embarrassment, and tragedy would it be if he had nuked his own troops? Varrus idly thought to himself as he watched on in awe at the destructive force behind his attack. It was a highly inaccurate technique that took at least half an hour to set up, and was prone to self harm, but when he was presented with something stationary, he couldn’t resist. There really wasn’t anything quite like accumulating a ton of mana in one spot, and casting ‘fuck everything in that general location.’
Hissing snapping sounds escaped the barrier as it stretched and recoiled like a rubber band due to the impact. One moment it was there, the next, it was gone.
Varrus was eagerly watching the explosion like a kid witnessing their first firework. The amount of force expelled within seconds was simply captivating. It wasn’t until he felt Syra’s strong embrace from behind a second later, that he found himself almost knocked over by the shockwave. Where would he be if he didn’t have her to look out for him? Varrus shook his head, and chuckled at himself, allowing a moment of levity to enter his heart.
He gave Syra an appreciative smile, then turned back to the battle so he could direct the fight.
As soon as the barrier dropped, it revealed a broken and depressed city. Deatholme was flanked and completely surrounded by mountains on all sides. The only way in or out was via a great wall. It was a massive wall that ran in a somewhat straight line, and stood at about 5-7 stories tall. A large section had been torn away at some point-likely due to the Scourge invasion-however, this gap was covered by a thick layer of impenetrable gnarled roots. In fact, the entire wall was covered in nasty plague ridden overgrowth so thick, that the wall mirrored a giant bushel of thorns. Sickly green and purple poisons dripped down the branches, and seeped from sallow flowers, pooling acidic water into a moat.
Behind it all, situated atop a hill, a massive skyscraper-sized tree that could compete with the Empire State Building in height roared down at them. The once sacred World Tree, Tha'salah, had been transformed into a treant in its undeath.
A thick miasmic fog of black spores fell down from the sky as it shook its branches.
Varrus quickly cast three Twisters at the wall in an effort to disrupt the spores.
While this was going on, he spared a moment of his concentration, and ordered the iron golems to take the lead.
The golems advanced into range of enemy turret fire within seconds, and began to take heavy casualties. Arcane Towers thumped down upon the golems. The powerful basketball-sized Arcane shots were enough to take out a limb, or melt a section off the construct. However, there were only 8 Arcane Towers, and thousands of iron golems. Whilst casualties were high, it was an acceptable loss.
[Cannoniers, aim for their towers. I have the two in the center.] Varrus commanded via scrying orb whilst he continued to counter Tha'salah's plaguefilled attack.
A second later, hundreds of Arcane Cannons took position, and began to blast the enemy towers, as well as some archers positioned atop the city walls.
From Varrus’s vantage atop his fortress, he swapped between countering Tha'salah and aiding his troops every other spell.
He began to drop Forbidden Sun after Forbidden Sun onto the towers. It took 5 casts of the Master tier Destruction spell to transform one tower into nothing more than smoking rubble, and molten slag.
[Highlord, there is an acid moat, it is impassable.] Rho’dan messaged Varrus via scrying orb.
[I have it covered.] Varrus replied.
Casting the Expert Alteration spell, Fabricate Object, Varrus created a bridge between both sides of the moat. He then spammed it a few dozen times, making sure that his troops would not get bottlenecked on one bridge, or risk one bridge getting destroyed, and having his men be trapped on one side.
House Vandercross took to their role as vanguards in stride, and had crossed the bridge, only to be met with a precarious situation.
Gnarled brambles, and thick vines covered much of the walls. They were resisting magical attacks, and in turn, were lashing at his forces. Already, a dozen of his troops were badly poisoned by deep purple leaves blossoming, and spraying pollen into his lines. Priests and potions mitigated these effects, and those soldiers recuperated after a few minutes of rest, however, this development had completely stonewalled their advance!
Rho'dan, the Crossguard, and the Illidari Council were all Heroes capable of great feats, however, even with all their power, the massive bushel wall was insurmountable.
The power of Tha'salah was not to be underestimated!
“Can you break the wall?” Varrus questioned to his side, yet his gaze never once left the battle.
All his focus was spent on directing his forces, and tossing spells at Tha'salah from a distance.
In response, Varrus felt a soft hug from behind.
“Why ask which you already know?” Came Syra's teasing reply.
A moment later, a sonic boom spread forth from Varrus's location, and a blinding blur of purple and gold flashed towards the beleaguered Blood Elven line.
Within seconds, a terrifying horizontal crescent of Holy Void cut a gaping hole within the center of the wall. Branches tried to fill in the gap, yet the combo power ate away at the dead leaves leaving nothing but ash in its wake.
After a beat, Varrus's army group cheered at the display of might, and entered the city!
Syra returned a second later, held Varrus from behind, and placed her chin on his shoulder.
Glancing out of the corner of his eye, he saw a face that was dying to be praised.
Varrus was about to do just that, when a combo of Phoenix Fire, and green Loa fire burnt away all the brambles on the left flank. Then the branches on the right flank retreated altogether as Nightsong performed some druidic magic.
Syra pouted at Varrus, and turned away with a sour expression.
Varrus chuckled, then picked Syra up, and tossed out his flying carpet.
“Don't worry, we can still beat Kael and your new best friend.” Varrus chuckled.
Syra's expression immediately brightened at the prospect of winning a competition.
Varrus rolled his eyes at her, then turned to address the surging armies.
“The walls of Deatholme have broken! Go! Fight! Kill! For Quel'Thalas!” Varrus's voice boomed as he flew inside the city, and began to blast anything remotely dead looking.
“For Quel'Thalas!”
Comments
Kasikan
Surprised he didn't just keep blasting away at the place until nothing was left standing, then send men in to sweep the rubble to check for anything left.
