Warcraft Fan Fiction ❯ A Savage Land ❯ Assault ( Chapter 6 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

- -

The night elf's ears perked up at the mention of Utgarde, heightened senses allowing her to listen in without them noticing.

“The smug bastard has made no attempt to hide himself. For the sake of the Alliance, we must nip this new threat in the bud before we are able to assist in bringing our forces to Jaina in Icecrown,” one man was saying, voice deep and serious, likely the highest ranked one in the group.

“What has this man done that is so offensive as to invoke a raid?” a younger voice asked, a notable reverence for the speaker in his voice.

“The man has been gathering followers of the Lich King and centralizing their base of power in that keep. Our reports show that most of them have been placed as servants to him, so whomever this man may be, we must assume that he is exceptionally strong. His wife beside him has been recognized as Aylenn the Frostfury, whom you may remember was a leading agent of the Lich King at the battle of Mord'rethar.”

“So we must further delay sending our support to Lady Proudmoore to handle some upstarts at a fallen fortress?” a woman asked, her disapproval obvious.

A fist banged the conference table. “I will not allow them to flank our backs when we go to Jaina. Any centralized base will have such a purpose. We have orders to march next dawn and eradicate the new masters of Utgarde, then we march onward to Icecrown.”

The night elf eavesdropper recoiled, sliding from her own table to head out the door. She must warn them of the approaching raid!

-

“Did you think your actions wouldn't go unpunished, traitor?!” a voice boomed. There was a reverberating crack similar to thunder, and then the sound of mailed figures running with heavy boots pounding on stone floor. Voices howled battle-cries, echoing from down the halls.

“Those fools!” Aylenn hissed, jumping to her feet as they all whirled towards where the sounds were coming from.

Sigrid gripped her polearm, a cold fury settling on her voice. “Their entrails will make fine necklaces.” With a loud returning cry, she shouted, “Come, enemies of my lord, to your deaths!”

“Foreigner filth,” Gard exclaimed, drawing her own weapon, while other Vrykul nodded and prepared themselves. “Fritha is downstairs. I shall go to make my stand with her.”

“Husband?” Aylenn asked, turning her head to him. Her eyes held worry, her voice tight.

Nathaniel had no expression as he faced the doorway, reclined back in his seat. He stood finally, mouth drawing thin, and he broke into confident steps heading away from the intruders. “Aylenn, Sigrid, choke-point them at the Njorn Stair. Varna, support them with range. You others, gather at Tyr's Terrace! FRITHA! FALL BACK!”

“You cannot run from justice!” that first voice called back, the sounds growing louder.

“Watch me,” Nathaniel grunted.

-

“ Make your choice now,” Nathaniel told them. “The Alliance march through my keep. I will risk none of my women, and I am going to flee this place until I may retake it. You can fight and flee with us, or you may remain here, locked in this cell, and face “the justice of the Light” when they discover you.”

“I will fight with you, my Lord,” Merette acknowledged immediately, rising from her place. There was true hatred in her eyes, recalling her fate the last time she was in Alliance hands.

Nathaniel nodded, allowing her to step out of the cell and handing her a powerful staff that amplified the power of arcane channelers. She gave a grim smile and departed. Facing the cell's other occupant, Lyana's face held no emotion as she watched him in return.

“Make your choice, Dark Ranger,” he demanded.

“If I fight,” she began slowly, “do you think that makes me yours?” The loathing was obvious in her voice, nearly dropping it to a hiss. “That because I might flee with you, that I am any less repelled or furious by my position?”

“No,” Nathaniel answered simply. He planted her bow in the ground before him and leaned against it, watching her. “It means you will live to perhaps one day take your vengeance against us. It also provides you the chance to escape us in the confusion of the raid.”

“You are no Alliance soldier. You are no Lich King agent,” she muttered darkly, red eyes glaring. “Who are you?”

Nathaniel tossed her the bow, saw her catch it. “Let's go.” He offered her a full quiver.

Lyana rose with her patient grace, body unfolding like the legs of the spider she reminded him of. Red eyes burning, she took the quiver.

-

“You think you can do this and just sit back, living in the peace of a world of your making? You think because you are so far removed from your homeland, you can defy their laws and your code of honor? You are called to face retribution, Nathaniel the Nameblighted!”

“Spearhead them,” Nathaniel growled, approaching where the girls were making their stand at the crest of the stairway.

Aylenn and Sigrid flanked his either side, and Lasariel had a dark smile as she joined them. “Silly little insects,” the dark draenei muttered. “You know not what you face.”

Arrows from Varna and Lyana pelted the forces, dropping some when critical spots were struck, while Fritha called fiery doom upon them, forcing their shields up against her fireballs. They lined the railing beside the stairwell, given tactical advantage over the lower and exposed soldiers. The Alliance brought an overwhelming force against them, blue and gold dressed forms packing the stairway and the halls beyond, shouting the sounds of battle.

“Know your place!” Lasariel shouted, and she cupped her hands before her to unleash a wave of shadow energy down the stairs.

Alliance soldiers died. Some were engulfed in the spell, expiring immediately. Others held up their shields and were blasted off the steps, falling to their deaths below. The army wasn't deterred, the combined fury of their metal and flesh beast growing at the death of their comrades.

Aylenn death-gripped the next closest soldier up, a snarling woman who raised her broadsword up for a powerful blow. Nathaniel disarmed her of her weapon and kicked her breastplate, sending the woman tumbling backwards down the stairs and barreling the legs out from others that were trying to rush up.

Sigrid's polearm smacked the shafts of arrows from the air as the Alliance returned ranged fire, huffing her distaste. Aylenn called upon energies of undeath, and suddenly the slain soldiers began rising from their graves. The ghouls gurgled inhuman sounds and began to strike at their former companions.

A meteor covered in fel-green flames materialized from the air and crashed into the bulk of the soldiers, followed by several other similar meteors. From the ashes, massive stone and flame Infernals were born, bashing the Alliance apart like they were wood and cloth dummies.

Nathaniel's rage at the intrusion didn't exceed his rationale. Despite knowing his side couldn't win here, he knew that the men and women they were slaughtering didn't deserve it. It was the arrogance of one superior that had the Lich King's enemies gathered here away from their focus. This was a mistake they had captured Lyana for, trying to free the soldiers from animosity to band against their common foe.

“Freeze the stairwell. We depart,” Nathaniel commanded finally, sending throwing knives into those that still thought to rush up the stairs at them.

Aylenn complied, the icy touch of a frost spell gathering in her hands before unleashing powerfully. She hadn't been called Frostfury for nothing, having specialized in that school of arts as a death knight. The steps froze into a slippery slope, preventing the soldiers from continuing their assault, followed by large masses of ice rising and barring the path. Those were to stand as obstacles to delay the Alliance's progress after them even more.

Turning in place, Nathaniel began to leave the stairway to head towards Tyr's Terrace. The others followed him, leaving the snarling machine of the intruders behind to deal with their loses and the parting gift they had left. The ghouls and Infernals were still wrecking havoc in their ranks.

In the very place that Nathaniel had helped slay Ingvar the Plunderer, the women that were his concubines and Merette waited anxiously. Many looked furious at being run out from their new home, especially Fritha as it was the second time, but they obeyed his command to flee rather than die in battle. He didn't have the time to explain how those troops importance in the battle against Arthas superseded the honor of slaying them.

A surprising number of proto-drakes filled the terrace. Apparently everyone but Eydis, the Winterskorn Shield-Maiden, had one, though in truth Varna had only recently acquired hers. Gard's was a frosty blue one, the only one not the standard red-bronze, while neither of the two Val'kyr needed such mounts to fly by the air.

At his word, they all mounted up, Eydis joining Varna on hers. Lasariel jumped up behind Aylenn on her bone gryphon. Merette took Nathaniel's hand and held onto his waist behind him on his living gold and white one. Lyana was the last to remain standing, and Nathaniel could tell she was trying to calculate a way to free herself of him right here.

With everyone's eyes on her, Lyana snarled something and mounted Nathaniel's gryphon in front of him, the bird giving a squawk at having three riders. Nathaniel's arm encircled her thin waist to hold her safely on, and with the other he flicked the reigns to get his mount to take them to the skies.

Together, they fled Utgarde Keep.

-

Sylva slowed her desperate travel to a despairing sight. Columns of smoke rose from Urgarde, escaping from certain windows and doorways. Fire was visible inside one room, as were the hordes of soldiers running around the stronghold. The tents characteristic to Alliance campaigns were already in place outside the keep's entry way, and she could see soldiers scurrying in and out.

No... Collapsing to her knees, she realized she was too late to warn Nathaniel. The sheer number of Alliance told her that there was no way he and his harem could have lived through the assault, no matter how many more he may have added in her short absence.

Something in the sky caught Sylva's attention, however, and she shielded her eyes from sun as she looked up. At first she thought she saw birds flying from one of the upper portions of the keep, but then she picked up the size scaling with the distance. Those were much too large to be birds. They were mounts for flying.

Heart racing, she counted eight of them. Four were the draconic forms of proto-drakes, two were smaller – likely the gryphons she remembered Nathaniel and Aylenn having – and finally two could only be the white ethereal of Val'kyr. They survived! Her head dropped, and she felt near tears. Elune be praised, they survived...

Forcing herself to take a deep breath, Sylva got her feet back under her and shakily stood again, feeling the strain in her muscles from her run to reach the keep, interrupted only when she couldn't keep going. She was well past her limits, but she tracked the direction the others were heading towards and marked it for memory. She would follow them when she was more up to the task.

-

Turning her head to look back at the gathered group following behind them, now grounded, Aylenn's features set with displeasure. “Where will we go now?”

Nathaniel said nothing at first, but she turned to stare at him expectantly. “I know some night elf or trolls ruins we could go to, but they don't offer much protection. Much better would be Bloodmoon Isle. I killed the lord of the place a few months back, should be abandoned again.”

“Oh? What adventure were you on this time?” Aylenn asked, pushing her worries behind her for just the moment to explore a bit more of husband's past.

“Arugal and his wolfcult set up a base of operations there. Woman named Sasha tasked me to wearing down Arugal's power, and together her and I struck down that particular Shade of Arugal,” he answered, eyes facing forward and the direction of where that past had happened.

Aylenn's lip twitched. “Tell me more about this Sasha.”

“Very down to Azeroth girl, a trapper concerned primarily for her family. I rescued her sister from the worgen before we confronted him.”

There was a full smile from her now. “And how did she decide to reward you for such charismatic bravery?”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “A thank you and a powerfully enchanted piece of armor, same as what most people are willing to offer around here.”

“ You're no fun,” Aylenn sighed. Her mind focused back on their trouble, and her expression darkened. “We lived in a castle. We lived like royalty. I won't stand for this, being forced from our home and stuck on the run. We will not just be a traveling lord and his caravan of a harem.”

“Honey,” he sighed, giving her an understanding look, “do not forget the plan. It isn't about the luxury or even them.” He flicked his hand behind him, then paused. “Alright, it's slightly about them, but our point is to remove key figures preventing Arthas' fall. Where we live is irrelevant. Once things calm down back there, we will retake the keep and fortify it so that this doesn't happen again.”

“Mmmm, the plan,” Aylenn acknowledged, turning an eye to the sleeping Lasariel behind her. “Too many of the death knights I wanted us to try for have already been slain and replaced. However, I hear that the frost trainer for initiate death knights, Sapph, is still around. She was as close as one could get to a friend while under the Lich King to me. If we can subdue her and kill the blood and unholy trainers, we'll lay a crippling blow such as we've never seen before.”

“Will we be able to accomplish that between just us?” Nathaniel asked.

“All three trainers together? Not even Lasariel here could come out of that alive. However, if they were apart for different classes, which is according to my sources, then yes, my love, we should be able to.”

“Frostfury versus the Rider of Frost That is something I'd pay to observe,” Lasariel muttered from behind Aylenn, opening her eyes a fraction to study them.

In front of Nathaniel, Lyana stirred, joined them in the conversation. “I... don't understand you. With the Forsaken, everything is simple. We want revenge for our curse, and aligning ourselves with the Horde was the only option to prevent eradication. The living curse us, and so we curse them. But you who stands so defiantly against the Lich King, with no allies besides yourselves and those you subdue and coerce... Why?”

There was silence following her question, but not due to a lack of understanding her intent. Aylenn watched her husband out the corner of her eye, waiting for his answer. After a long period of silence, he spoke softly, “I tire of this war between us. I fought for years, against so many horrors. I went through the Dark Portal to face down Illidan, fought in a shattered realm against forces threatening to tear our world apart in worse ways than I ever could imagine beforehand.

“ I returned from that broken frontier to this. Stirrings in Northrend, continued hostilities between the Horde and Alliance, the Plaguelands turning into a fortress for rebel death knights. And so I picked up my blades and came to this cursed land. I fought my battles here, I joined the fight in the two-front war against Lich King and those also fighting him, the Horde. I watched our squabbles destroy our chances of finally ending Arthas repeatedly. I watched you Forsaken kill off both our factions at the Wrathgate.

“I tire of this petty fighting between ignorant commanders. After Wrathgate, I left the Alliance for the Argent Crusade, but instead of the liberating freedom of productive work against Arthas, I found the Crusade playing the role of mediator between the Alliance and Horde – always coming back to them. I was eventually sent to The Death Gate, Mord'rethar, and in that... battle I confronted Aylenn the Frostfury, one of the leading figures there.”

“And he beat me,” Aylenn interjected, continuing the story. “But instead of ending it, he offered me the chance to serve under him, continuing my unlife. Unlike you lamenters, I revel in this, so I agreed to his demand, came to know him, eventually married him, and now we are doing this. He left the Crusade after meeting me, and now we work – alone if that's what it takes – to undermine my former master in whatever way we can.”

“And by whatever way, you mean by taking fuck-slaves and concubines?” Lyana commented snidely, but their words had her mind thinking. It was true that the continued hostilities between the Horde and Alliance were interfering with their efforts against the Lich King. Lyana didn't see it as such, but she understood that wiping out the Alliance before facing the Lich King only meant less allies against him. She had never been to Outlands before; she couldn't conceive how it might be possible for the age-old enemies to work together.

The Argent Crusade, too. Lyana had always seen them as a group that always interfered when she tried to deal with the Alliance. Never did she consider that it only meant more resources used that might instead be used against the Lich King. A brittle dream that we might ever not be mortal enemies. There is no way we can work together. All Alliance are too arrogant for that kind of logic.

The snow of the mountain they were climbing down abruptly ended in mostly grass, and they cleared the tree line to get a good view of Grizzly Hills. In the distance was the coast, and with it, a stark tower lay shrouded in mist. Their destination.

At Nathaniel's word, they took to the skies again. Growing closer, they found the tower a long, square cut and made entirely of stone and wood, looking very human in its construct. Also, it was located on an island out in the water, meaning it wouldn't be easily assaulted like Utgarde Keep was.

The island was abandoned, as Nathaniel expected. They dismounted at the steps of the tower, and together they entered the barren building. Inside it was stripped of everything, leaving a stone staircase leading up to a door outside. Together they followed the path, then walked up a wood staircase from the outside to go further up. It led them to another floor similar to the first, which to them translated to another room capable of holding several of their number. Finally another path outside led them to an outdoor landing and a staircase back inside, concluding finally at the roof of the tower – which still held the raised platform Nathaniel had fought Arugal on.

The air around the tower was wet with the mist and especially cold. The many openings to the outdoor stairways meant that the breeze was free to sweep through the tower, chilling everything in its path. The Val'kyr and Frost Vrykul didn't seem bothered by it, but those with thinner skins were miserable, and the other Vrykul even seemed bothered.

“You don't have anywhere better than this?” Aylenn grumbled, leaning into him for the warmth.

Nathaniel showed signs of being cold, but his mood remained untouched. “We only have to close off the archways with cloth as temporary doors, and that will keep the breeze out. We can leave the top open for ventilation, and that way we can have torches spaced through out. That'll warm this place up nicely. We have enough blankets for each of us to be warm at night. Besides, this will only be temporary.”

“I always did like a man who can take action,” Lasariel mentioned coyly.

Nathaniel ignored her. “Sigrid, Thora I'd appreciate if you took the roof, as both sentries and since you both don't can't feel the cold. Gard, you can have the area beneath that if you are bothered by sleeping close to the others since you are so resistant to the cold. The rest of you, concubines take the second landing, my wives and I take the bottom.”

Facing Lyana, he acknowledged her with his eyes. “You're actions today are to be rewarded. You will be given a bed roll, blankets, and a heated bath. You will sleep on the second floor.”

“And me, my Lord?” Merette asked, head bowed. She was still in her latest garb, and all the skin that was showing was prickled by goosebumps, her body giving small tremors.

Raising an eyebrow, he faced the many Vrykul women. “One of you must take the pleasure girl to bed this night. Your body heat alone will be enough for her.”

“A human pleasure girl?” Fritha huffed, the question enough of a refusal.

Eydis shrugged a shoulder. “If no other will, she may join me. I am not interested in pleasure from her, however.”

That settled, they set to turning the military establishment into something livable. The true joy was when Merette showed that she had the foresight to grab all the blankets from the master bedroom, meaning that they had plenty to work with and left overs to sleep with. Food and materials for torches were lacking, but Varna agreed to leave and hunt for them. Her worg Whitefang had not been left behind.

They settled in for the night, the un-imprisoned Lyana especially quiet after being given her luxuries. They felt confident she wouldn't be able to escape since the only way down from the second floor was the outside stairway – which was deadly to jump from – which led only to the first floor so she would have to pass them by in the attempt.

They put together a bed, traveler-style, and the husband and three wives crawled in together, none of them interested in anything intimate that night. They were silent too, each left to their own thoughts as they enjoyed the warmth Varna brought to the bed.

Emotions burning at the humiliation of having to flee his home, Nathaniel tried focusing past that to the future. The Alliance had accomplished nothing in throwing them out; they'd be back. Until then, there was still the plan to consider.

They weren't done yet.

- -
Converting /tmp/phpCg1mHU to /dev/stdout