The Battle for Azshara

- by Kormok

A cool wind blew in from the sea, carrying with in the stench of death. The beach was littered with rotting corpses of animal, man, and orc, laid out in a grim mosaic of bone and corrupted flesh. The sky hummed with the energy of the floating fortress high above the trees, a machine of undeath and destruction that would not be stopped.

Hukari reined in his raptor beside me, grinning toothily. I looked past him and saw the others, dismounting and preparing their weapons for battle. We were already worn down from the previous engagements, our armor dented and axes dulled from hacking through row after row of Scourge filth, but our spirits were not diminished.

They could be beaten.

I swung from the saddle and touched down on the blood-soaked sand, boots squelching in the morass. Wraith was beside me in an instant, his snowy muzzle turned crimson from the battles. No mere playful lupine was he; now fury and feral might was in his eyes. Even a beast knew when something unnatural needed to be destroyed. I drew my weapons and felt the tendons in my hands and arms groan in protest, but they were no match for the anger that welled inside of me.

It was within us all. Lysander slipped his massive greatsword from the sheath on his back, wringing the leather hilt in his hands like a towel. Crackling ice rippled through the air as Prorgnarr prepared his magic, tossing me what passed as a smirk on his cracked and gray lips. We were ready, and would bring yet another Scourge party to the earth where they belonged.

Just over the rocks, the undead gathered for their attack. We moved swiftly into position, forming a line as the first withered ghoul shrieked an alarm to his fellows. A blast of sizzling necromantic power from the floating fortress invigorated the Scourge, riling them into a renewed frenzy.

Sword and axe and spell were readied. We charged, our voices and weapons raised against the forces of the Lich King.

It seemed an eternity to reach them. My heart thudded in my chest, blood pounding in my skull, my armor's weight shifting with each determined stride. The mass of glued and wire-wrapped bones I had chosen as my prey glared with seething hate into my eyes. Memory flashed in my minds eye; my father and I were upon Hyjal, and I stood frozen in terror as gargoyles ripped him to shreds.

Not this time.

"Lok-narosh!" came the battle-cry as Horde met Scourge in a sickening explosion of sounds. Bones snapped, flesh was rended, cries of victory and pain erupted from both sides. Ten of us against a far greater force of foes, but we were not deterred. Steel and sorcery tore through their ranks, our wounds accepted and pushed away as a price to be paid for what we did today. It was all instinct. There was nothing rational to be felt in those moments of chaos, when the spirit of battle possessed us fully and gave us the determination of warrior-heroes from ages long gone. We were soon covered in gore, standing on the bodies of the fallen Scourge, more and more coming to bring us down.

My axe and sword came down together on the collarbone of a ghoul, spraying a shower of bone chips and black ichor into the air. It collapsed with a gurgle, only to be replaced by two others. A furious whirlwind of strikes later, and they were dead, with only mild scratches on my arms and face to speak of their battle prowess. I didnt realize I had been separated from the line, and soon found myself surrounded. There were too many!

Prorgnarr's incantation carried above the din of battle, and the Scourge troops around me were blown away in a torrent of icy wind that carried their remains far from the battlefield. I dropped my weapons and whipped my cloak in front of my face to prevent the inevitable frostbite, and when I lowered it I saw the mages crooked grin.

"You are welcome," he croaked, and turned directly into the path of a charging trio of undead. There was no time to do anything other than draw my bow, nock three arrows, and send one into each corpses skull. They dropped soundlessly.

"As are you," I replied, slipping the bow back across my shoulder and scooping up my weapons from the gore-splattered beach.

A terrible cracking noise shattered the battlefield cacophony, followed by Hukari's shouted warnings. More Horde had come to join the fray, and the splintering of the Scourge crystal that had been the focal point of their ground forces brought forth terrible shadow-beasts. We moved to engage, and in those moments, heroes were made.

The voice of the Scourge commander resounded through the mountains and the cliffs. He promised to return, that we would not hold this land for long. Hundreds of bodies lay scattered across the coast, all laid low by our efforts.

Victory was ours, for now. The exultation that was cried forth from the surviving Horde soldiers was unlike anything I had ever heard before, and would likely not hear anything of its kind again.

We stood upon the mountain of corpses and screamed our triumph into the darkened sky.

Edits: Apparently the WoW forums do not like copy/paste very much, and punctuation is missing in random places. -_-

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