Scholars will probably debate why the Lich King let the Death Knight known as Hester keep his free will when as far as we know, none other was given the ability. Some think it was because his own power was so great. Others think it was because he was so loyal that it was not necessary. Still others think it was because Arthas Menethil just needed someone he could talk to. Weather one of these reasons is correct or some other motive was the cause, Hester, younger brother of the War Chief Trall was left to think for himself.
Hester entered the Lich Kings audience chamber and dropped to his knees bowing. Time stretched on in silence as his master watched him, measuring his obedience. After a time he broke the silence with his haunting voice, “Rise General, and report.”
Hester sprang to his feet and stood at attention. “My Lord the first assault seems to be going according to plan. Most of the cities of the living have been taken, and all of the small towns you determined as important enough for the first assault have fallen.”
The undead Kings eyes narrowed and the cold mist that came from them seamed to make the room drop a few degrease. “You said most.”
Hester did not Flinch at the sight. “Yes my Lord, three cities have defended themselves. It would seem that the undead of Undercity were better prepared then we had anticipated. We took about a third of the city before they pushed us back. Then they collapsed the entrances.”
“So the traders are cut off from the rest of the world?”
“Yes my Lord.”
He paused for a moment thinking. “Divert the Titan Legion to reinforce our troops there. There is a large number of dwarfs in that one. Tunneling in should be little trouble for them. What other cities are causing problems?”
The Generals body language was unreadable. Someone looking at him might not even have known he was giving his lord bad news. “As we expected Dalaran is putting up quite a resistance. It seems the Alliance and Horde are willing to work together against you.”
A haunting sound came from the Lich King, few would realize it for what it was, laughter. “We will see how long that lasts when the city can not feed itself. Make sure none enter or leave.”
Hester nodded his head. “It will be done.” For the first time he hesitated, but only for a moment. Most would not have even caught it. But Arthas wasn’t most. He raised an eyebrow which prompted Hester to continue. “The last city is Booty Bay.”
This seemed to somewhat surprise the Lich King. “Really?”
All composure regained, the General explained. “We seemed to have under estimated the ties that bound the different elements of Booty bay. Some factions that we thought would not band together did. And others that we though would run did not. The Bloodsail Pirates have joined forces with the city. As well as many merchant ships, making a very strong naval presence. A combination of Tauren and Dwarven warriors guard the narrow land passage into the city. With an abundance of healers close behind them.”
“Indeed, how would you handle this General?”
This was a test, and Hester knew it. “A land attack would be nearly impossible. And we do not have a navy capable of attacking from sea. I would say we have to come from under water to get behind there defenses.”
“An interesting plan.” He commented while nodding. “Get the herbalists and alchemists working on making the potions we need right away.”
General Hester bowed deeply knowing he was being dismissed, but before he left he felt he needed to remind his King of something. “It will take time my Lord. Not many of your knights are skilled in those ways.”
The Lich King’s eyes narrowed once more. “Then they better get started.”
*****
Johnhall was given a unique title by the ruler of his people. Among them he is known as the Brash Knight. It is a tile the elf ruler had thought seemed fit to give him after witnessing him attack a group of trolls that turned out to be much larger then he had originally thought. After seeing how he charged in without thinking, yet still coming out the victor she bestowed the title. Since then BKjohnhall had learned to plan things out a bit better, sometimes. Luckily for all of us, this was one of those times. He had fought to try and save Darnassas. He fought hard, but the city was lost. Now alone he knew he needed help. “Hello! Can anyone hear me! Anyone!” He called into the guild link.
Worries almost turned into panic as he wondered if he was the only one who survived. Then a calming thought hits him as he realized that the guild was scattered to the winds. There were close to 300 of them, and even if the world blew up some of them would survive, although they would be in the outlands. Something had to be blocking it. He was not a man of magic, and really didn’t understand how the link worked in the first place. So trying to figure out why it had stopped was beyond him.
“Ok John think.” He told himself. “Who is around here that would not have been in the city?” Then it hit him. Pierroman and Tryat were conducting an experiment at restoring immortality at one of the more remote moonwells. He wasn’t sure who they were guinn-pigging this time. He had done it once, and afterwards he had a headache for a week. But at least if he found them, he would have help doing what ever the next move was.
BKjohnhall started running through the woods towards the moonwell when the sounds of swordplay caught his ear. Quickly he changed direction to head towards the noise. When he rounded a rather large tree he saw an elf in leather armor trying to fight off two gnomes in platemail. He didn’t know the man he jumped in to save. But he knew he was joining the right side. Everyone of those attacking his homeland were in plate. And the Elf defending himself wore the guild colors.
Jumping off a tall root sticking out of the ground he landed the first blow before anyone knew he had shown up. Sadly for the gnome it was the blow that finished him. This got the second ones attention, which turned to face the new threat. A mistake.
Taking advantage of his new position the mystery elf thrusted a dagger under his attackers helmet into his neck. The man went limp and fell to the ground. Then he turned to BKjohnhall and said, “Oh a thanks.”
Bkjohnhall recognized the accent, it was from up north. “Think nothing of it.” He said as he looked at the wounds covering his new found friend. “Names Johnhall.”
“Oh Tryat has told me a bit of you. Says you’re a good guy.” He says while leaning down to go through the two dead mans pockets. “I’m Spartanman, glad you showed up when you did.”
“You know Tryat? Is he around here?” Hope creeping into his voice.
“Yea, seen him about an hour ago. He and Pierroman are up the path a ways with Oiche. I am headed to town to patch myself up. Thanks for the hand though.” He said getting to his feet again.
Shaking his head at Spartanman, Bkjohnhall said, “Well about that, there is something you should know.”
*****
Flying on the zeppelin ‘Gas Pod’ a husband and his wife hope that the next time they see land it will be at a friendly port. Chuckels, was a troll and the last surviving officer of the small, but proud guild known as RNZ. And as far as he knows his bloodelf wife Mandala was the only other living member.
The two of them had been through a lot in the last few days. They were on the beach having lunch when they saw the battle for Org begin. At first they couldn’t understand what was going on. Trolls’, Orcs’, Taurens’ all attacking each other, seemingly with out rhyme or reason. Then it became clear. The death knights, they were against everyone.
They had fought hard to get into the city, something they were now glad they weren’t able to pull off. When the bubble popped up a few feet in front of them, they retreated to one of the zeppelin towers. Them and a few dozen others.
The battle didn’t stop there. They were pushed up the tower, loosing brave allies with every step. Then the death knights set the tower on fire. Those left had to choose between burning to death or jump 3 stories down to a waiting army. Death either way, but the choice was which one was worse.
Then as they held each other in there arms, hope appeared on the horizon. A zeppelin. A beacon of hope was coming for them. It was time that was the enemy now. A race between the speed of the ship against the rising of the flames.
The Death knights saw this too. They made one last push through the fire to try and kill the survivors before escape could come. And the Horde got some payback for there stupidity. All badly injured by the fire they set, the death knights came. And those who could still fight met them with sharp blades. 20 death knights fell in less then a minute. But so did some of the survivors. Then as the death knights were getting ready for another push the zeppelin was here. It had about 10 or so undead aboard who quickly helped with the wounded. Then they set off again.
The first place the Zeppelin went, was back to undercity. But it did not even bother to dock. The tower belonged to the lich king. And he has an army gathered to do god knows what.
So south they went. Town after town, village after village, all incased in crystals within bubbles of frozen time. No help, no survivors to be seen. In desperation they started including Alliance territory in the search. And as they approached the mountain of Iron Forge only to see the same thing… all hearts sunk.
Now they are almost out of places to look, and running short of food and water. If this last town has gone the way of the others none know what to do next.
Manadla stood at the front of the boat, looking to see what she could. All on board did this from time to time. To look for allies, to try and spot the enemy.
“LOOK! LOOK!” she started shouting.
Everyone sprung to there feet to see what was going on. They had been flying over water to lesson the chance of an attack. But now closing in on there destination things were coming into sight.
Ships, lots of Ships. More ships then any had ever seen before. Ships flying banners of Stormwind, of Mitheral harbor, of Silvermoon city, of Ratchet. Pirate ships, merchant ships, ships of war, cargo ships, passenger ships.
Ships of the Alliance and ships of the Horde!
Vessels that last week would have fired on each other with out a second thought were now next to one another with cannons aimed every way the enemy could approach. And beyond them the waiting port of Booty bay.
Cheer after cheer went up from the survivors of Org. They were finally safe.
