The Scourge Siege - Part Three Edit
It was night, pitch black, though if there was another type of climate in Icecrown, he did not know it. The silence around him sent a chill down his spine, as it did to the forty men following behind him. Each bore a white tabard blazoned with the white sun of the Argent Dawn. Their armour clinking was the only solitary sound echoing in the valley besides the faint growling and screeching of ghouls at the bottom of the valley. The Knights stopped behind a rock, the ones furthest back still finding a place to hide and observe the view below.
Below them was a reanimation area. In the chaotic scene were tables ladened with bodies, many still smothered in blood from a recent deaths. A large pile of clothes was being burned, tabards of various organisations atop the pile. Argent Dawn’s, Kirin Tor’s, Horde and Alliance war tabards, each burning with a fierce intensity sending an orange wave around the valley illuminating the grim scenes.
“Sir, we’re not going to be able to take that. It’s too heavily guarded.” A stout Dwarf spoke in a rough voice to his Captain, the Knight leading the column. Kneeling amongst the rocks, he turned to the Dwarf. His silver helmet, illuminated into a metallic fiery orange by the inferno below them, was at least five sizes too big. His voice echoed out from under it causing the Captain to smile.
Turning his eyes back to the scene below, he scanned the area, counting no less than three hundred ghouls. Amongst them, fierce Death Knights cracked whips and abominations were beating sense into the brainless ghouls. A tough assault it would be, but an assault it had to be. They needed to stop enemy reinforcements at all costs.
“We need to go now before that Lich gets here. He looked ready to collect troops, so no doubt a new group of reinforcements is down there somewhere. Our best chance is to engage them now.” The Captain, a Draenei no shorter than seven foot, was enclosed in elaborate silver-plated armour. Over his armour he wore a white tabard bearing the black and white Argent Sun. He spoke quietly, but even those who couldn’t hear him, knew his next words. “For the Argent Dawn.”
The Captain rose to his feet, put his hand to his blade handle at his waist and quickly drew it, raising it in the air. The orange light illuminated the long, elegant blade and to the ghouls below, now alerted to the presence of the Knights, it looked like a blazing weapon, surrounded by fire, and fear gripped them.
A war cry echoed throughout the deep valley and on the cliffs on the opposite side, Scourge began to pick up their bows and load them. The Knights began charging headlong into the reanimation area, weapons of all sorts swinging in great arcs, each appearing if on fire owed to the orange illumination of the blaze. The ghouls, gripped by a fear unknown to their kind ran towards the Scourge archers lining the cliffs, many stopped or cut down by the raging Death Knights forcing their way through the crowd.
The Argent Captain was the first to slam into a ghoul, thrusting his sword through the gut of the Undead. He drew his blade out, swinging it into a nearby ghoul, cutting his head from his shoulders. Around him, his fellow knights were cutting down the undeads, pushing their way towards the tables bearing the corpses.
A Knight shrouded in shadow black armour jumped over the body of a ghoul to swing his blade downwards at a Blood Elf Knight who only just managed to parry the blow. His counter attack was doomed, but seeing the position of his trooper, the Captain wrestled a ghoul off him and jumped to his aid. As he reached the Death Knight, the Blood Elf lay on the ground, a gaping hole in his ribs and blood all over the floor.
The Death Knight swung his blade and steel met steel as the crude rune blade slammed into the long sword of the Argent Captain. His speed was incredible but the Draenei used his height to his advantage, pushing the futile Human knight to the floor, finishing him off with a downward sweep.
In front of him was a crystal, bright green and three times the size of the young Captain, but around him lay many of his own Knights dead amongst the many undead limbs. His only chance was now. As he ran towards the crystal, he looked around him. Tables, near hundreds were covered in bodies of every race imaginable. In each body was a large tube running into the chest, pouring green liquid inside of them coming from the crystal.
The Draenei drew a small black box from his backpack and pressed a large red button on the top before sticking the underside to the glowing crystal. Jumping behind an upturned table, he lay beside a blood covered, naked human corpse before a loud explosion sent him reeling across the ground.
As he placed his hands on the floor, raising himself up, ears ringing, he looked up. On each table, the bodies were going into fits, shaking uncontrollably, many beginning to fall silent and stop dead, obviously killed finally by the lack of green liquid. As he scanned across, the majority of bodies were still and were now in a pose of death, something they deserved after fighting against the enemies they were soon to be made into. He bent over, picking up his sword, looking behind him.
His Knights lay on the floor, each bearing a large hole in their chest lined with ice. The Captain’s eyes widened as he turned to see a Lich standing before him, an ice blue robe glimmering and falling to the floor. This was all the Captain could scrutinise as a white flash engulfed him and all he saw was darkness as his eyes closed and his heart slowed to a stop.
Knight Master Rasaan woke up and would have been sweating if his body allowed it, but his mind was reeling at the nightmare. In the doorway of his dark filled quarters, a Goblin in pitch-black armour stood to attention.
“Master Lich Nul’renak wants you, sir.” Rasaan sighed, foreseeing the upcoming events.
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