Tides of Darkness (world of warcraf)

by Aaron Rosenberg

  "Prepare more oil!" Terenas ordered, and servants scurried to obey, using stout poles to lift the heavy cauldrons and carry them away. It would take time to refill the cauldrons and then reheat them and bring them back up to the ramparts, but he doubted the Horde was going anywhere. This would not be a quick skirmish or a fast conflict—it would most likely be a long siege, and he thanked the Holy Light they had sufficient stores of food and water for several weeks. Oil they would run out of after another dousing or two, but it was merely the opening move in their defense. Terenas had other tricks to show these unruly orcs who dared attack his home.

  Thoras Trollbane stalked across the mountains as easily as if he were one of the region's sturdy rams, his heavy hob—nailed boots finding solid purchase on the rough gray granite. His men moved behind him, each one as well—versed in mountaineering as in combat. Stromgarde was a mountain kingdom, and its children grew up learning to climb the rock faces and scale the peaks.

  Ahead of him lay the first of the Alterac mountain passes. Trollbane could already see figures moving through the falling snow, large heavy—set figures marching steadily but awkwardly. Clearly the orcs of the Horde were not accustomed to the altitude or the peaks. The passes themselves were chiseled carefully out of the mountain range for just such people, allowing trade and communication with both Alterac and Stromgarde's lower neighbors. For themselves Trollbane and his people did not need such conveniences. They preferred to scale the heights wherever they wished, rather than being trapped in a long chute like the one before them. The passes were far too easy to blockade—and to ambush.

  Gesturing to his men, Trollbane crouched, his axe at the ready. Not yet, not yet…now! Leaping over the edge he landed solidly in the pass between two orcs, taking them by surprise. His axe flashed, carving one's head from its body and then catching the other in the throat on the backswing. Both fell, and the orcs on either side of them stumbled and snarled, raising their own weapons. But four of Trollbane's warriors dove into the pass just then, two on either side of him, and hacked apart the next orcs in line. Then more of his men jumped down and attacked the orcs beyond those already falling, and so on. In a matter of minutes two dozen orcs lay dead and the pass was clogged with bodies.

  Trollbane and his men pushed the dead orcs, already stiffening from the cold, into a single stack that rose to the top of the pass. Then he stationed ten of his men there to guard the makeshift blockade and climbed back out, taking the rest of his warriors with him.

  "Good," Trollbane told them as they worked their way to the north. "That's one taken care of." The next pass was less than an hour's climb away.

  They found that pass also crowded with marching orcs, and attacked it in the same way. Trollbane could see that the orcs were fearsome warriors, large and strong and tough, but they had no experience with cold or mountains and were not used to foes leaping down on them. The second pass was taken as easily as the first one, and so was the third. The fourth pass proved slightly more difficult because it was the widest of them—four men could walk abreast here, or three orcs, and so Trollbane and his soldiers jumped down four at a time. But soon enough it was blocked off as well, and they rolled boulders down to make sure it stayed impassable.

  The fifth pass was clear, at least of orcs. Trollbane found warriors stationed there but they were human, dressed in the orange of Alterac, and they were stationed above the pass as well as within it.

  "Hold!" one of the Alterac soldiers called out, spotting them and leveling his spear in their direction. "State your name and business here!" Several of his fellows rushed to support him.

  "Thoras Trollbane, king of Stromgarde," Trollbane replied curtly. He glared at the soldiers, though he knew they were only following orders. "Where is Perenolde?"

  "The king is in his castle," the same soldier replied haughtily. "And you are trespassing on our lands."

  "And the orcs?" Trollbane asked. "Are they trespassers, or guests?"

  "The orcs shall not pass us," another soldier declared. "We will defend this pass with our lives!"

  "Good," Trollbane said, "only they're not at this pass. They're at the four south of here."

  That startled the soldiers. "We were told to guard here," one of them said, looking confused. "This was where they said the orcs would try to pass."

  "Well, they didn't," Trollbane snapped. "Fortunately my men are blocking the other passes now, but many already made it through. To Lordaeron." One of the soldiers was older, clearly a veteran, and his face paled as that statement sank in. It was to him that Trollbane addressed his next question. "Where is Hath?"

  "General Hath is at the next pass, with the bulk of our forces," the soldier replied. He considered for a second before offering, "I can take you there."

  Trollbane knew the way, but he also knew it would be easier to get to speak with Hath if he arrived with an escort. So he nodded, and gestured for his men to follow him and the Alterac soldier.

  It took another hour to reach the next pass. This one was the widest path through Alterac, easily broad enough for two full carts to pass one another without brushing the walls, and it made good sense to station most of the soldiers to guard it. If the orcs were going north instead of south. Trollbane spotted Hath speaking with several junior officers but waited until the soldier who had brought them had hailed the stout general.

  "General Hath, sir!" the man called. "Visitors from Stromgarde to see you, sir!"

  Hath glanced up and frowned when he spotted Trollbane. "Thank you, sergeant," he said, moving to join them and returning the veteran's parting salute. "Your Majesty," he said gravely, nodding to Trollbane.

  "General." Trollbane had always liked Hath. The man was a solid soldier and a good tactician, and a decent fellow. He had always disliked fighting him and hoped that wouldn't be necessary this time. "The orcs are pouring through your southern passes," he said bluntly. "We blocked them for you."

  Hath paled. "Our southern passes? You're sure?" He waved away Trollbane's nod. "Of course you are. But why? The king told me personally they would passing to the north, not the south. That's why he set us to guard these passes instead."

  Trollbane glanced around them. None of the Alterac soldiers were close enough to hear him as he lowered his voice. "You're a fine soldier and a good commander, Hath," he said softly, "but you've always been a terrible liar. You knew they were heading south, didn't you?"

  The Alterac general sighed and nodded. "Perenolde made arrangements with the Horde somehow," he admitted. "Free passage in exchange for protection."

  Trollbane nodded. That was what he had suspected. "And you went along with this?" he demanded.

  Hath stiffened. "We were faced with annihilation!" he replied sharply. "They would have crushed us all, and slaughtered our people! And there was no one to aid us!" He shook his head. "Perenolde made the choice to protect Alterac first and foremost. What he did may not be decent, but it saved lives!"

  "And what of the lives in Lordaeron?" Trollbane asked softly. "They will die because you allowed the Horde to pass unhindered."

  Hath glared at him. "They are soldiers! They know the risk! The Horde would have killed our families, our children! It is not the same!"

  Trollbane nodded, feeling some sympathy toward the older man. "No, it is not," he agreed. "And your loyalty to your people is commendable. But if the Horde conquers Lordaeron they will control the entire continent. What makes you think you will be safe?"

  Hath sighed. "I do not know," he admitted. "Their leader gave Perenolde his word, but I do not know how far such a creature may be trusted." He shook his head. "I told Perenolde we should abide by our oaths to the other nations, but he countermanded that. I have sworn fealty to him, and I must obey. Plus I thought he might be right, that this might be our only chance for survival." He frowned. "But survival of the race is more important than that of any one kingdom. And if we do not have our honor, we have nothing at all." He raised his chin, a stern expression settling over his fe
atures. "Well, I will reclaim our honor," he declared. Then he turned and shouted at his men. "Corporal! Gather the men! March everyone to the southern passes at top speed! We are going to assist our Stromgarde friends in defending those passes and pushing back the orc Horde!"

  "But sir—" the officer started to object, but Hath shouted him down.

  "Now, soldier!" he bellowed, and the officer saluted quickly and leaped to obey. Then Hath turned back to Trollbane. "He is in the castle," the general said shortly. He did not have to explain whom he meant. "His personal guard will still be there, but there are only twenty of them. I can draw him out."

  But Trollbane shook his head. "We do not have time to worry about him now. Besides," he pointed out, "if I go there, it is an invasion. And if you go, it is treason." He frowned. "We will let the Alliance settle matters with Perenolde later. For now all that matters is blocking the Horde."

  The general nodded. "Thank you." Then he turned and joined his officers in rallying the men.

  "Damn it, we're too late!" Turalyon reined in and stared out over the valley below.

  They had ridden hard, he and Khadgar and the other cavalry members, with the troops marching along behind them. It had seemed best to pass west through the foothills of Hearthglen and then emerge north of Capital City so they could swing back down and come at the city from the wide plain behind it, where its main gates lay. Now he wasn't sure the better positioning had been worth the added travel time.

  Turalyon had also hoped to gather additional troops from Thoras Trollbane, but Stromgarde was simply too far out of the way. Turalyon had considered detouring, but the news that the Horde had also cut through the mountains and had done so before them spurred him to keep moving instead. They had to reach Capital City in time!

  But now he looked down from the trailing edge of the mountain range, across the valley that fed into Lordaeron and the lake below it, and saw that he had failed. The Horde was already there, spreading across the valley and around the proud city like a spray of leaves about an autumn tree.

  "They haven't breached the walls," Alleria pointed out, standing beside him. She and the other elves, both warriors and rangers, had kept up with the horses easily, and both she and Lor'themar Theron had come forward with him to see what lay before them. "It is not too late to aid them."

  "No, you're right," Turalyon admitted, shoving his disappointment aside and studying the situation more dispassionately. "This battle is not yet lost, and with our aid Capital City will not fall." He rubbed at his chin. "This may even work out to our advantage," he said softly, considering the matter more fully. "The Horde does not know we are here yet, and we can trap them between us." He frowned. "We should let Terenas know we're here, though, so we can coordinate our attacks and so he does not feel he has been abandoned."

  Theron nodded, eyeing the mass of orcs teeming below and beyond them. "A good plan," he agreed. "But how would you suggest we reach the city? No one could get past those warriors unharmed, not even an elf."

  Alleria nodded. "If this were a forest I might," she admitted, "but here on an open plain there is no chance for cover. It would be suicide to attempt it."

  Khadgar, sitting his horse on Turalyon's other side, grinned at the three of them. "I can get across," he assured them, laughing at their expressions. "With a little help," he added, glancing at a short, tattooed figure who had alighted on the rocks beside them.

  "Sire!"

  Terenas glanced up and saw a soldier shouting and pointing beyond the walls. Thinking the orcs had massed for another attack, he glanced out, following the man's gesture, but the soldier was pointing up rather than down. Terenas looked, and almost gasped as he saw a dark figure soaring toward them.

  "Ready archers," he called, staring at the shape, "but hold fire until my command." Something seemed strange about it. Why send a single flier of any sort, when there were thousands upon thousands of orcs smashing against the walls below? Was it a scout? A spy? Or something else?

  The archers positioned themselves, longbows drawn and arrows nocked, and waiting patiently. The shape grew closer. Now Terenas could see that it was a gryphon, though far wilder and more beautiful than the heraldric symbols would have led him to believe. Its feathers glowed gold and violet and red in the sunlight, and its fierce head turned, birdlike, to glance around with wide golden eyes as it approached.

  And a figure sat upon its back, holding reins and riding a saddle as if upon a horse.

  The rider was big, but did not seem large enough to be an orc. And it was wearing clothing, far more than the green—skinned warriors below. Terenas stared, and then let out a breath of relief as he caught a glimpse of violet. That wasn't armor, it was robes, and that could only mean one thing.

  "Lower your weapons!" he called to his archers. "It is a wizard of Dalaran!"

  The gryphon swooped toward them, its mighty wings beating, and then it was overhead, circling back even as the archers turned back to watching the orcs below. The rider was clearly searching for a place to land, and finally settled on the nearby corner tower, which had a wide flat circle for cauldrons and ballistae and signal fires. Terenas strode in that direction, Morev right behind him, and reached the tower just as the gryphon touched down and folded its wings along its body.

  "Well, it's good to know I haven't forgotten how," the rider announced as he swung one leg over and dropped from the saddle. "Thank you," Terenas heard him murmur to the gryphon, which cawed in reply. Then the wizard turned, his short white beard visible now, and Terenas recognized him.

  "Khadgar!" he said, reaching out and clasping the mage's hand. "What are you doing here, and on such a creature?"

  "I come bearing good news," the old—seeming mage replied, grinning. He looked tired but otherwise well. "Turalyon and his forces are just the other side of the northern valley," he informed Terenas, gratefully accepting a wineskin Morev offered and taking a quick swallow. "We will attack the Horde from behind and draw them away from you."

  "Excellent!" Terenas clapped his hands together, pleased for the first time in days. "With the Alliance army here we can attack them from two fronts and batter the orcs between us!"

  "That was Turalyon's plan," the mage agreed cheerfully. "Kurdran loaned me the use of this gryphon so I could reach you and coordinate. I am just grateful I still retain the knowledge Medivh gave me on how to handle one."

  "Come," Terenas told him. "My servants will see to the gryphon—they will get it water, and I am sure we can find something for it to eat. Let us talk about what Sir Turalyon thinks we should do next, and how we can make these foul orcs rue the day they dared raise arms against our city."

  "Charge!" Turalyon led the way, hammer held before him like a lance, spurring his horse up out of the water and onto the bank and toward the massed orc army. Many of the orcs were still concentrating on the city walls, which they had yet to dent for all their ferocity, and only a few heard the sound of his horse's hooves and turned to look. One of those opened his mouth to shout a warning, but Turalyon's hammer caught him full across the jaw, shattering it and snapping his neck from the force of the blow. The orc dropped and Turalyon's horse trampled him.

  Behind him rode the rest of the cavalry, and the foot soldiers were marching after them, having crossed the plain north of the city. Now they advanced upon the Horde, which turned to meet them.

  And that was when the city's ballistae fired, raining arrows and rocks down upon the orcs' backs.

  Turalyon led his mounted soldiers into the Horde's front ranks and through them, circling around and back again. And then the city's defenders struck a second time.

  The orcs milled about now, unsure what to do. When they faced the city the Alliance soldiers struck them from behind. When they turned toward the soldiers the city guard attacked them. They had yet to breach the walls and so they couldn't retreat into Capital City, but they couldn't get to the lake on the plains and the mountains without first going through the Alliance soldiers. No matter whic
h way they turned, orcs died.

  Unfortunately, the Horde had bodies to spare. A row of massive orc warriors marched forward, weapons at the ready, and Turalyon was forced to pull his riders back. The elven archers released a volley of arrows that rained down upon the orcs, felling many, but new warriors took their place at once. The orcs began throwing themselves at the Alliance army, forcing them to backpedal or be crushed beneath heavy orc bodies, and step by step Turalyon found himself and his men pushed back toward the water. Once they were out of reach half the remaining Horde soldiers turned their attention back to Capital City itself. They hurled themselves at the walls, quickly exhausting the city's supply of oil and rocks and gravel and other items to drop on attackers.

  The ballistae could not be aimed at anyone up against the walls, not without doing more damage to the city than the invaders could, and so the orcs were now safe to scale the walls and batter at the gates. Thus far the gates were holding, but they were taking a terrible beating. And orc warriors were reaching the ramparts and pulling themselves up and over, grinning. Most were blocked and stabbed or bashed as they reached the top but before they could climb over, but a few made it and began attacking the guards, throwing them into disarray and leaving gaps in the wall's defenders. The first wave to climb over all died, but more followed them, and now the bodies were piling up and providing the orcs with some cover as they scaled the walls, giving them room to plant their feet and ready their weapons before attacking the guards.

  "This isn't working!" Khadgar shouted to Turalyon as they backed their horses across a rough bridge the orcs must have built to traverse the lake. "We don't have enough fighters to overwhelm them like this! We need to try something else!"

  "I'm open to suggestions!" Turalyon replied, battering a lunging orc with his hammer. "Can't you use your magic against them?"