Karp
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Chapter 91
🕑 Added 2024-10-24 19:12:40 +0000 UTCWithin minutes of the Scourge army's arrival, battle had commenced.
Terrifying, 8-10ft tall abominations lumbered forth. Their speed was unimpressive, yet they more than made up for it with their extreme endurance.
Elven archers aimed mana enhanced, Arcane Arrows with incredible accuracy, exploding eyes, and taking out limbs. Yet it took 5 arrows to the knee to bring one abomination to the ground.
Necromancers chanted their spells, reanimating any fallen abomination, and reinforcing their skin to be tougher than ever before.
Those same 5 Arcane Arrows required to bring down an abomination more than doubled under the ministrations of the necromancers.
The Elven line refused to remain silent, as the resounding concussive booms of artillery joined the frey.
Fire attuned munitions pounded one abomination after another into fried meat paste. They were broken so much, not even the Lich King could raise these burnt out husks into something serviceable.
Within the opening salvo, a dozen abominations were destroyed due to the overwhelming might of the Mana Cannons.
Furthermore, it did no favors for the Scourge that they were crossing a bridge. It was only so wide, and confined their forces to a narrow gap.
A group of over 100 Undead archmages stepped forth, and began to chant in unison. They raised their wands and staves, uttering words in an unknown tongue.
Several rangers attempted to snipe the Undead mages, yet the thick fat and wide bodies of the abominations blocked their attacks.
Seconds later, a whirlwind of ice, and an avalanche of snow spilled forth from their position.
The creeping cold was tainted by Death magic, and carried with it a sapping energy that drained the stamina of all it touched.
Stepping forward to meet this challenge, Blood Elven mages and priests blasted back with a flame tornado, and a giant golden palm.
The three masses of magic seemed to counter one another, however, the Scourge commanders objective was not to directly kill, but to freeze the river, and create a land bridge between Eversong and the Ghostlands!
Slick black ice coated the top of the river, heralding a new wave of Scourge reinforcements.
The beleaguered abominations were soon joined by tens of thousands of skeletons and ghouls, eager to gnaw on flesh, and feast upon souls!
Kael’Thas witnessed all of this from atop his mount, the Phoenix, Al'ar.
Both he and Tenris had yet to clash since their initial bout, each one holding back, and reserving their focus/energy for when it truly mattered.
As the leader of an army, Kael was responsible for all the lives under his command. Unless the Sunfury were in a truly dire situation, and required his immediate aid, they were best served by him acting as a commander. With him holding down the rear, and prepared to act against the enemy leader should he make a move, the rank and file could have some peace of mind.
Traditional battle doctrine typically followed two paths. Either Heroes led from the front, or they held themselves in reserve.
When they led from the front, it was either due to confidence in themselves, or because they had weak followers, and needed to do the heavy lifting. This was the less favored approach, because it exposed the Hero to needless risk, and if they died, then the Common soldiers were swift to follow
The more common strategy, was to have Heroes act in reserve, and deploy the Common tiers besides some Elites. This method served to preserve the high-end damage dealers, and secure the flanks. An army with a Hero could conduct a fighting withdrawal, and would have hope to fight another day. Whereas those Heroes who rushed to the front had a higher mortality rate.
These were the things Kael had learnt whilst on campaign. When he was Prince, Kael was full of anger, and a desire to enact immediate revenge. He took that fire, and flew at the Trolls a few months back. It was only now, as King, that he realized how impactful his death would be.
He still didn't care much for his own personal safety, but he had seen how much the people looked to him for leadership. Kael realized he could no longer afford to act like a boy, like the idealist that chased after Jaina Proudmoore's skirt. In times like these, he had to take responsibility, to be a man.
Should Kael, for example, take to the skies, and fly at Tenris in a blind rage, like his past self was wont to do, he would be exposing himself to enemy Heroes and Elites.
Such a scenario was untenable.
And so, Kael found himself directing the Sunfury, like a maestro conducting his orchestra.
When the ice bridge allowed 10,000 Undead to surge forth, he responded, not with a bout of Phoenix Fire, but with a command.
Pulling up his scrying orb, Kael made some quick adjustments to his formation.
[Arcane Golems, focus on the abominations. Archers, aim for casters. Warriors, paladins, hold the line. Mages, take out the ghouls and skeletons.]
Kael’Thas nodded his head when the golems charged forward to meet the abominations. Thanks to the Mana Stones Varrus had provided, the golems were stronger, and launched Magic Missiles at the abominations before they closed.
Concussive blasts of pure Arcane rocked the meat puppets, forcing them back a step, and opening up a gap for the golems to exploit.
Each step of the crimson armored golems shook the ground, their massed charge churned up dust and debris. When they made impact, the sound of flesh slapping against stone rumbled across the battlefield.
Powerful granite hands ripped and tore, pulling apart flesh, and crushing limbs.
Necromancers tried to reinforce their creations once more, however, they were forced to keep their heads down, and toss up shields due to the constant hail of arrows headed their way.
The golems were gaining a slight upper hand, and momentum was shifting in the Sunfury's favor. Of course, the golems were being destroyed, but it was in their favor. For every 1 golem that had their mana core destroyed, 3 to 4 abominations would fall with it.
When the Scourge commanders saw this, they readjusted their strategy, and began to swarm the golems with dozens of ghouls crawling atop them like kids going crazy on a jungle gym.
[Arcane Explosion] Kael transmitted.
The golems, almost as one, had a blast of white-purple Arcane energy erupt outward in a bubble. Any lesser Undead caught in a 5ft radius was reduced to ash, whereas those up to 10ft away were heavily burned.
Kael’Thas grinned to himself, yet was quick to reel in his emotions. Whilst he was spying through the scrying orb, he saw a force of Demons led by a Dreadlord mounting a counter offensive on his right flanks.
Large, muscular orange creatures known as Felguards, were wielding giant axes and halberds to much effect. Supported by packs of knee-high Imps tossing hundreds of fireballs, the golems on that side of the battle were slowly losing ground. Additionally, Succubi were cracking whips, and applying pain and pleasure to their allies, buffing them into a lust filled frenzy.
“Dranarus, you fought the Legion before. Take care of them.” Kael turned towards his #2, and gestured towards the Dreadlord that had torn a golem in half with two large, clawed hands.
“Gladly, my liege. These Legion scum shall recount the name Dranarus for eons to come!” The Knight-Lord nodded, then slammed a helmet on his head.
“Spellbreakers, follow me! For Quel'Thalas, for the King!” Dranarus shouted.
“For Quel'Thalas! For the King!” The Spellbreakers hefted their shields, and raised their glaives, mimicking his cry.
Rushing forward, the Spellbreakers conducted a Mass Teleport, and appeared directly behind the Felguard, yet they ignored them, in favor of attacking the swarm of Imps instead.
Enchanted glaives cut into the tiny gremlins with practiced ease. The Elite force stomped the Imps with iron boots, each movement of their economical, and designed to inflict the most damage.
These were the Royal Spellbreakers, the most professional force in all of Quel'Thalas!
“Ahh, run away!” The Imps cried, and raised their hands in fear as they began to scatter.
“Mmm, honey, how about we find a room?” A Succubus flicked her tail, and blew a kiss at a Spellbreaker.
The royalist remained stone faced, and his shield lit up, reflecting the charming affect.
“Ahh baby, don't be like that~” The Succubus turned away, and presented her naked backside to the Elf, only to catch a blade through her midsection for her troubles.
“Imbeciles, turn around.” Dethecus commanded the Felguards.
Yet the orange hulks paid no mind to their leader, and kept charging forward, lost to their battle frenzy.
“I knew supporting that mewling welp was a failed disaster. I'll have to report this failure of his to Lord Tichondrius.” Dethecus muttered to himself as he watched the majority of his Imps and Succubi fall to enemy action.
He waved his hands, preparing to teleport away, however, he felt the spell he was muttering have its energy redirected.
Instead of teleporting away, he was teleported closer.
“Who dares interrupt the will of the Legion?!” Dethecus boomed in an attempt to rattle his foes.
Surrounding him in a circle, a dozen Elite Spellbreakers, and one Hero launched a wordless, simultaneous attack.
“Bah!” Dethecus cursed, then unleashed a carrion swarm of Undead gnats and other insects from within his robe.
Escaping a magic jar that could fit thousands, over 25,000 tiny insects formed a large cloud of plague and decay.
The Spellbreakers lost their smug smiles, and became solemn in the face of such an unexpected attack.
“The Legion has use for talents such as yourselves. Submit to us, to me, Dethecus, and your puny mortal lives shall be spared.” Dethecus gestured with a claw.
“An uncanny deep voice, unreasonable demands, all he's missing is a mustache.” One of the Spellbreakers spoke in a taunting tone.
“You dare mock me, Dethecus, servant to the leader of all Dreadlords?! I have burned a thousand worlds, claimed a million souls. What is a paltry 8,000 year old Kingdom on some backwater compared to eons, to the Legion!?” Dethecus pointed towards the Elf in anger, and a mass of gnats came buzzing down.
The group of Spellbreakers closed ranks in response. Interlocking their shields, a turtle-like shield interposed itself between then and the Dreadlord's swarm.
“All he needs is a top hat and a monocle to finish the look.” Another Elf replied, eliciting much laughter from his fellows.
Dethecus ground his teeth, and charged at the shield, clawing it repeatedly in an effort to brute force his way inside.
“Look at the wise ancient, he doesn't even know how to counter any simple shield spell! What knave thought Dethecus would be a good name? Did they think it would inspire fear?” The mockery continued.
More laughter ensued, and Dethecus saw red. His claws took on a crimson hue, and began to actually rip the barrier apart.
“It's so quiet. Hm, no. Is that the sound of hope crashing and shattering into thousands of tiny pieces? Ah, I shall enjoy tormenting your souls.” Dethecus momentarily paused to taunt the Elves once the barrier was on the verge of total collapse.
However, the Dreadlord was met with smirks, and suppressed chortles instead of the anticipated pleas and sobs of forgiveness.
Narrowing his eyes, Dethecus twirled around, and launched a surge of Fel empowered red crescents behind him, only for it to get absorbed by a Spellbreaker's shield.
The Dreadlord's eyes widened, as he discovered in his rage, he had been blinded to his surroundings. What had once been an encirclement of a dozen Elites and a Hero, had turned into hundreds of Elites.
His Demon army had vanished, sent back to the Twisting Nether to regenerate for who knows how long.
Lord Tichondrius would be most displeased…
Furthermore, they had completely encased him in a barrier, preventing any escape.
The corner of his lip twitched as the magnitude of the situation presented itself. Clenching his clawed fists, Dethecus silently eyed their leader. His name was Dranarus, if he had heard correctly. When his body finally reformed, he would return and get his vengeance on the arrogant smug Elf.
“What a scary look, huh men? I bet he's plotting his revenge as we speak! Unfortunately for him, we know how to deal with Demons! In fact, our very own First Seat did a play about me once, if you could imagine that! It was a tale of capturing a Dreadlord, the same as the creature in front of us today!” Dranarus pulled out an amulet affixed with powerful runes and enchantments.
Dethecus's eyes widened as he realized what was happening, and raised a hand to his own throat in an attempt to release his spirit back to the Twisting Nether.
The Elf simply watched on with a smirk on his face as Dethecus did himself in.
‘Smile while you can, Elf. I'll be back-’ Dethecus thought to himself, when his body was turning transparent. However, before he could forcibly return to the Twisting Nether, the amulet flashed, and his spirit was imprisoned within.
“Let us press forward, for His Majesty!” Dranarus roared towards the Spellbreakers.
~~~~~~
On the western flank, within some hills, Ranger General Lor'Themar Theron, and Farstrider Commander, Halduron Brightwing were camped in some bushes alongside the Royal Rangers Elites.
Lying on his back, Lor'Themar was carving new pairs of shoes. His latest battle with Lireesa Windrunner had reminded him of the things he had left behind in the name of revenge, and safeguarding the country.
With all the turmoil, he had taken up shoemaking to remember his parents. It was a calming hobby in such dangerous times.
“Carving shoes?” Halduron whispered from the side.
“Mm.” Lor'Themar responded, focusing on the task at hand.
“Shouldn't the Ranger General be preparing for the enemy attack?” Halduron questioned just loud enough for several nearby Rangers to hear.
“They'll come when they come.” Lor'Themar ignored Halduron, and held up the shoe closer for inspection.
‘It could use a little smoothening out.’ Lor'Themar thought to himself, and blew some wood shavings off of it.
“One day, I wish to become as venerable and wise as our great leader.” Halduron nodded with a big smile.
“Is that day 10 years from now?” Lor'Themar said with disinterest as he began to rub some edges smooth.
“Pfah?! Ahem, wherever would you get such an idea? Me, replacing you in 10 years?! Preposterous!” Halduron waved his hands in front of him in denial.
Lor'Themar briefly gave him a look that said he wasn't buying that shit, but then shook his head with a sigh. This is why he never wanted to be Ranger General, or a member of the Convocation.
Politics, how he hated it. Maybe he needed a wife to help keep him centered. All this backstabbing, leading the Royal Rangers and keeping two headstrong boys on the right path was taking its toll on him.
Halduron was just one among many eying his position.
Best to put some fear in Brightwing's heart, Lor’Themar decided. He knew the man for the animal he was, but so long as Brightwing was #2, then all the vipers that wanted the spot of Ranger General would have to go through Brightwing first.
A small smile threatened to spread across Lor'Themar's face at the thought, before he clamped down on it.
“Want to hear some wisdom? You can't keep hiding behind Faedra's skirt, you know. She's a bad influence on you, and won't bail you out a second time. There's a new Sheriff in town, don't come looking for me when your hand gets burnt for playing with fire.” Lor'Themar seriously replied, and waved his carving knife at Halduron chidingly.
“Don't remind me. Those Vandercross dungeons aren't a joke.” Halduron glumly turned away with a bitter expression.
Lor'Themar hummed in response, happy to keep carving a pair of tiny child sized shoes. He knew Vandercross was trying for kids, and might as well get in their good graces ahead of time.
During his musings, the sound of a wood squirrel sounded near their position.
“That's the signal, they're here!” Halduron harshly whispered, and drew an arrow.
“No, Halduron, we wait for half the party to pass. Our informant is leading the column, wouldn't want them to get caught in the crossfire.” Lor'Themar calmly lowered Halduron's bow, then resumed his carving.
“...Faedra is quite terrifying, you know. If not for her, we would have been blind to this Darkfallen assault. Tying oneself to her carriage isn't the worst outcome.” Halduron said conspiratorially, and with great meaning.
Lor'Themar wrinkled his nose.
Ally with that witch?
No thank you!
Yet the game had to be played.
“I'll think about it.” Lor'Themar gave a nonanswer, then stood with his bow drawn as soon as Halduron was going to say more.
Silently unleashing his arrow, he caught a Darkfallen in the throat.
All around him, Elite rangers rose up, and delivered a dozen death blows in seconds towards the unprepared Scourge forces.
When the enemy Elites regained their bearings, enchanted objects that had been planted in the soil earlier were detonated. Any Darkfallen that had tried to break out was caught underneath by a series of explosions.
It was a slaughter.
Lor'Themar closed his eyes as he recognized more than half of the Darkfallen that lay dead on the ground.
He was too old for this shit.
Sighing to himself, he sent a message to the King.
[The west is secured. Their flanking force is eliminated.
It's done.]
~~~~~~~
Kael received the message on his scrying orb from Lor'Themar the same time that Dranarus had defeated the Dreadlord.
Scanning the battlefield, his right and center were dominating the enemy, only the left flank, besieged by Death Knights, was undergoing any kind of strife.
[Warriors, paladins, pull back on the left flank. When the Death Knights advance, the cloaked golems will emerge from hiding and flank them.]
The ‘routed’ Blood Elves were chased down by the Death Knights, however, as soon as the mounted riders over extended, Arcane Golems that had been stationary, and covered in camouflage cloaks rose from the ground, and encircled the Scourge Elites.
Necromancers tried once more to bail their allies out, however rogues played havoc in their lines, and previously prepared enchanted mines exploded beneath their feet, taking out whatever support the Scourge army had left.
Before long, spells, swords, and stone fists wore away at the Death Knights from all sides, and turned them into scraps.
All that was left was perhaps 60,000 ghouls, skeletons, a few hundred abominations, and a force of pesky Darkfallen archmages. They were a threatening force to be sure, but under Kael's leadership, his troops were mostly unharmed, and any injury was quickly seen to by the priests. Victory seemed ever closer.
When everything seemed to be going well, it only got better. Kael received a message that put a wide smile on his face.
[I'm here] -Varrus.
Kael glanced on the horizon, and saw a large army gathering behind the Scourge force.
He almost felt bad for Tenris.
Almost.
Comments
Conor McGroarty
MC’s plays really upped the elves trope awareness and shit talking skills.
