Warcraft Fan Fiction ❯ Bloodstained Shadows - Chronicles of a Lost Soul ❯ Frozen Hearts - Chapter 6 ( Chapter 51 )

Chapter 6:

 

 

Angrathar.

The events that recently took place at the Wrathgate were the first step on a long path of smaller and greater defeats of the Lich King. Many souls were lost the day both armies of the Horde and Alliance tried to charge the black gate in the north of Dragonblight.

Two proud heroes of our time were killed that day.

Yet this event should herald an upcoming time of change and all this was set into motion by the Royal Apothecary Society of the Forsaken under their grand apothecary Putress.

The Forsaken were eager to create a new plague that would devour the living as well as the mindless ones under the control of Arthas. The Banshee Queen had her own plans in how to end this war, still even she, who is most cunning and careful, was not prepared for what was about to happen. Trusting someone can become your greatest weakness in times like these.

Nevertheless this was to become the beginning of the downfall of the Arthas. From this point on he would only be pushed back further and further to the frozen heart of Icecrown.

In the early afternoon the battle commenced as the troops of the Alliance first charged at the gate. The Lich Kings answer came immediately as a little horde of skeletons and ghouls rose out of the mellow earth in front of the gate.

Angrathar itself is shaped like the Helm of Domination, the helmet that was once crafted by demons to hold the spirit of Ner'zhul and to give him the powers he has as the Lich King.

The forces of the Alliance led into battle by Bolvar Fordragon struck down as many undead as they could. Their losses were only few, but the minions of the Scourge were countless. Most ghouls kept on fighting no matter how many limbs they had lost.

“Rise up sons of the Horde! Blood and Glory awaits us!”, the voice of the young Dranosh Saurfang was audible even down in front of the gate. Then the sound of a horn was heard from the east.

“Finally...” Bolvar muttered to himself whilst striking down another undead.

With a raging battle cry the soldiers of the Kor'kron came charging down the hill on their wolves.

“LOK'THAR OGAR! For the HORDE!”, the orcs yelled upon arriving on the battlefield.

This turned out to be one of the few fights were members of the Alliance and Horde indeed stood side by side against a mutual foe.

After the orcs had joined the slaughter no matter how many undead stood from their shallow grave they were slain within only few seconds. The orcs swung their axes until they grew dull from hitting bones.

Only few ghouls were still standing when the gate suddenly opened.

Shouting wildly roughly 30 or 40 ymirjar came charging out of the opening. Armed with heavy axes and maces,, they brought death to many warriors, but it was only a matter of time before they were overwhelmed. In a one on one situation they are supreme fighters, they are especially trained for that, but not in a battle like this. Yet even in death the ymirjar prove to be dangerous. Most of the time they are accompanied by a maiden of the val'kyr, which will not enter combat, but stay in a safe distance and resurrect the fallen ones as vargul, a wretched, honourless type of undead vrykul.

The blood of the fallen ones gave the ground a slight red tone as the fighting came to a pause.

Bolvar and the young Saurfang took a few steps towards the black Saronite walls.

“Arthas! The blood of your father, of your people demands justice! Come forth coward, and answer for your crimes!”, Bolvar yelled at the entrance to the citadel.

Without further announcement the black gate looking like horrible, spiked teeth opened again, but this time only a single person stepped out of it. A breeze blew through his long white hair.

Slowly the Lich King steps forth with Frostmourne in his right hand, ready to strike.

“You speak of justice...?”, he asked as he drew closer. His armour made him look even more fearsome as you would imagine.

“... of cowardess?”, soldiers of both the Alliance and Horde were trembling with fear, ready to protect themselves if they had to, but they would never strike first... they were far too petrified.

“I will show you the justice of the grave...”, as he spoke these words innumerably many hands burst out of the earth to his sides. “... and the true meaning of fear!”

Hundreds of ghouls gathered around him, only waiting for his command to strike.

“ENOUGH TALK!”, the young Saurfang burst out. “LET IT BE FINISHED!”, he shouted before charging directly at the Lich King, his axe high over his head.

Arthas didn't plan to dodge the attack.

With one single strike he destroyed the axe of Dranosh and cut through the body of the orc at the same time.

He killed him within seconds.

All the orcs of the Kor'kron stood there terrified of the sight, seeing how their leader was just annihilated with a single blow.

The dead eyes of Saurfang were still open and staring at his soldiers as Frostmourne sucked his soul directly out of the body. Another victim for the blade, another feast for the monster.

“You will pay for all the lives you've stolen! TRAITOR!”, Bolvar spoke filled with rage, filled with hatred against his enemy.

“All this stated... but there is nothing you can...”, a giant, green explosion behind the legions of Alliance and Horde interrupted the scene. A cloud of gas taking up the area, blocking the way to safety, the path for retreat. The few people that were caught by it fell to the ground screaming in agony.

“What?”, the Lich King asked, showing that this was none of his work.

Laughter arose from high up on a cliff directly next to the black gate overlooking the area.

“Did you think we had forgotten?”, the frail body of a Forsaken bowing down became visible.

“Did you think we had forgiven?”, he asked while the soldiers in the valley below already heard the sounds of the catapults rolling towards the edge.

“BEHOLD, now, the terrible vengeance of the Forsaken!”, his face not visible under his mask, his robes gave him away as a grand apothecary.

“Sylvanas...!”, Arthas said to himself.

“Death to the Scourge! AND DEATH TO THE LIVING!”, the apothecary Putress shouted out while the catapults launched their deadly ammunition into the masses below, no matter who they might hit.

The gas it emitted was highly corrosive and cauterised the skin and flesh right off the bones. No one would be able to pass through it without getting harmed. Within seconds the ghouls of the Lich King fell to pieces in the green clouds. Even Arthas himself fell to one knee, but he managed to flee into his citadel without suffering greater wounds.

“This isn't over!”, were his last words as he retreated.

Bolvar was surrounded by the gas, nowhere left to go. Nothing left to do except for embracing death.

Putress let out another laughter upon gazing on the battlefield by then covered with green fog.

“Now, all can see...”, he turned around to leave the area, “.. this is the hour of the Forsaken!”

No escape...

Soon afterwards the area was cleared from the corrosive green gas by flames of the red dragonflight. The armour of the young Saurfang was returned to his father who mourned the death of his son. Both the bodies of Dranosh Saurfang and Bolvar Fordragon were collected by agents of the Scourge before either Alliance or Horde could seize them.

It was only a few hours after this battle when Varimathras betrayed the Banshee Queen. Together with Putress and several members of the Royal Apothecary Society they orchestrated a coup d'état and forcefully took over the control of Undercity.

Sylvanas was badly injured and had to flee together with many of her people to Orgrimmar.

Supported by Thrall and a group of soldiers of the Kor'kron Sylvanas attacked Undercity, which was by then already festering with lower demons. The main intend of the Banshee Queen was to retake the city and return the dreadlord's favour, although she was sure she wouldn't do it as slack as he did and kill him off properly.

He would get what he deserved for betraying Sylvanas Windrunner. Dealing with Putress would have to wait until the city was back in the hands of the Forsaken, little did they know that the Alliance would already take care of that.

As they entered the ruins of Lordaeron, they were attacked by demons as well as abominations built by the Apothecary Society. Apparently Varimathras had opened several portals to the twisted nether, calling for reinforcements.

As they drew nearer to the Royal Quarters' they engaged doomguards as well as smaller pit lords, the species also known as annihilan. Those are hulking creatures with a massive humanoid torso joined to a tremendous equine body with a flexible carapace. Monstrous tusks jut out from their fanged mouths and a long thick tail thunders behind their huge frames. A mane of fire runs down their backs between sinewy, leathery wings. Most of them carry a massive warblade as a weapon.

But none of the obstacles Varimathras had for the Banshee Queen and Thrall were enough to stop them. They reached the throne room eventually.

The dreadlord managed to put up a good fight for the warchief and his servants, but as the fight took its time the powers of the demon faded. He was then killed by Sylvanas.

In the meantime a group of soldiers of Stormwind, together with Varian Wrynn infiltrated the city through the sewers and started an attack on their own aiming for the Apothecarium. They wanted to take revenge for the soldiers that died at the Wrathgate. Perhaps they could even take out the leaders of the Horde afterwards.

Putress proved to be not much of an opponent. He might have been a mad scientist as such, but not a great combatant. He was beheaded before he was able to do any greater damage. In the Apothecarium the fighters discovered dozens of mutilated defiled human corpses which the Forsaken used to experiment on. Realizing that, even though the Horde and the Alliance had a truce over the years, the Forsaken were planning on killing them all.

After the threat of the Apothecary Society was obliterated, the king of Stormwind and his soldiers moved on to the Royal Quarters where they confronted Thrall and Sylvanas next to the armour the dreadlord had left behind after his death.

Furious from the discovery they had made, Varian lunged into combat with Thrall declaring that peace will never be possible between Horde and Alliance.

Jaina Proudmoore was barely able to stop Varian and Thrall from killing each other by teleporting the leader of the Alliance and his soldiers back to the city of Stormwind.

During those days many proud fighters lost their lives.

Old scars were ripped open again as the Alliance anew declared war against the Horde.

But before old hostilities will be determining the fate of Azeroth yet again, the Argent Crusade and the Ebon Blade gather the strongest and bravest heroes of both the Horde and the Alliance under their united banner as the Ashen Verdict, to attack the Lich King in his own dwelling, the Icecrown Citadel.

His army might have been weakened from the defeats he had to take in several places; Naxxramas, Zul'Drak, Dragonblight ...

But still the Lich King as an entity remains as powerful as he always has been with his strongest servants by his side, eagerly awaiting the countless souls of overzealous warriors that want to challenge him,... to harvest them.

Frostmourne hungers.