Chapter 10 – A Shadow Encounter
**Chillmaster**
On the cusp of Alliance territory, Chillmaster stood watching over the penultimate evacuation an Alliance town, Redridge. A valley cut inside a great mountain range which acted as a natural boarder between the Alliance and the forgotten lands surrounded the lakeside town. Brown cliff faces stretched around the long lake, while a stone bridge reached over the murky waters and connected the dusty paths to Stormwind’s roads. Fishing boats were dotted around the water while a dock lurched into the lake itself. Along the coast lay the town itself, thatched houses of wood and hay weaved up and down the cliffs while wooden fence pickets patrolled and separated the properties. This peaceful fishing village was now scuttling to escape, Chillmaster was tasked with preparing them to journey to Stormwind, and hide from the invading Horde.
Through the narrow pass from the north he noticed a bulk of troops approaching; he reached for the binoculars by his side and inspected the incoming army. Their thunderous stomping echoed around the countryside and birds fled from their trees as the villagers ceased their actions to look up in fear. Chillmaster sighed in relief; they carried the banner of Ironforge.
Turning to the Redridge townsfolk, he told them “Do not fear people of Redridge. For it is our friends who come, come to help us fight! Carry on with your evacuation post haste!” before jumping down from his look out to meet with the Ironforge army.
Chillmaster stood anticipating their arrival, dusted himself down and watched as they approached. Strangely, they simply blanked him and walked straight through. He had assumed that the troops would help with the evacuation of Alliance towns and help them on their way. As they walked past him he saw tired expressions on their faces, some carrying wounds while others wore blood stained armour. This was the mighty army of Ironforge he thought? They looked like they had already seen enough fighting. Looking up the marching line he noticed many banners around a small contingent, he pushed through to meet the leader of Ironforge.
“Lord Smeldor!” he yelled as the Kings Guard held him back, “Will you not help the people of Redridge? We need assistance!”
Smeldor looked at up with a worn expression “My army needs rest, my troops need reassurance. Believe me my friend; know that no one wants to help more than I. But the horrors we have the seen, the nightmares we witnessed. We cannot stay, nor dwell on such matters. We go to Stormwind to make our defence, and then we shall take our leave.”
“You would ignore the cries for help of our people?” Chillmaster pleaded.
Smeldor stopped his walk and looked at the Stormwind soldier, “It is not our intention to ignore anything. When you have shared our experiences you will know our fears, I decline with a heavy heart, but heart that must decline.” He then continued walking with his troops and the march for Stormwind continued.
Chillmaster stood back as the Ironforge army walked onwards through Redridge. The people of the town looked up from their duties and wondered what was happening. After a moment’s pause, Chillmaster looked up to the town and ran through the marching lines to Redridge itself. Without the aid of Ironforge’s army, they needed to quickly move out to the final town, the Stormwind province of Goldshire.
**Ragnorak**
After a day of rest, Ragnorak’s patience had run out. Watching over Booty Bay’s docks he saw the sailors and traders scurrying around their little dock. He cared little for them, but knew they were granting his presence in their town. A fight here on the rickety port could prove disastrous and with their hospitality granted there was no strategic advantage from wiping out its inhabitants. He grunted, before grabbing his Axe propped up against the wall and slamming the door open.
“Economist!” he yelled “Ready the men!” before stomping down the wooden stairs.
All around the port soldiers dashed out of the houses and ships grabbing their weapons and clothes as booming drums called for the troops to assemble. Ragnorak pushed through the scrambling mess and out of the town. The path out, the only way into the town by foot, was a dust path through a winding cave. He walked through it into the lush jungle life on the other side, the brown rocky cave lit by simply torches before his view illuminated by the morning sun looming over the jungle. To his surprise, he found Gorecleave waiting for him, surrounded by his Demon kin. They stood in a line, some straight up and proud wearing black and purple armour, while others stood hunched, their clothing closer to rags; tattered and torn.
Gorecleave smiled as Ragnorak approached, “A beautiful day to die, is it not?” he asked Ragnorak.
Ragnorak raised his eyebrow and rubbed his hands up and down his axe’s hilt, he scanned the surrounding wild life squinting at the sun and vibrant colours of the tropics, “My men lag behind. They are not ready, we will march with you!”
Gorecleave turned, his men turned with him and began to walk down the path, “We are simply going to…scout. Take your time, we will return when you are ready.” He told the war chief.
Frustrated, Ragnorak threw his axe on the ground as he walked away, he began to speak but was blinded briefly. As he looked back up, the Demons had gone but for a misty rail of darkness into the jungle.
**Rohan**
Inside Stormwind’s war council, the leaders of the city stood lurched over a map. It stretched over the long brown table and showed Stormwind’s defences, each position marked with the amount of troops expected to man the positions. Large clunks of the forces were placed on the bridge over the valley, where they planned to make their stand.
Obliviana walked into the room, her brown leather armour stood out against the stone white backdrop of the walls. “News from Chillmaster, Ironforge’s army arrive soon. Smeldor plans to make it in time for the right, and can fortify with us.”
The room looked to Obliviana with smiles before cheering at the news of reinforcements. There was no way a Horde army could assault the stronghold of Stormwind against the combined forces of Ironforge and Stormwind. They all seemed overcome with joy at this message, but Rohan remained unimpressed. He noticed Obliviana did not share their glee, he took out his sword and smashed it against the tower wall.
Everyone suddenly stopped their cheering and looked to the interrupting Rohan, Blackluster spoke for the room “Why are you always such a downer Rohan?”
Rohan smirked at the Inquisition councillor, “Tell them, Obliviana, tell them whatever other news you bring.”
The leather strapped Obliviana nodded at him before unravelling another scroll, “Smeldor's troops were attacked. We believe the belligerents to be those that left with Lestasta. Some strange aura surrounds them and the Ironforge troops are weary from battle, their morale shattered.”
As the room looked around worriedly, and Rohan began to nod grimly, Chasity stepped forward from the corner, “Possession. It is the deepest stage of Demonic control. They pray on the isolated and put suggestions in your mind. They know what you want and how to make you think they can get you it. With this possession comes strength and will power never before seen. It would seem your friends have been taken by this dreadful condition.”
“Possession?!” snapped Rohan, “What do we really face out there? What enemy has been brought to our gates?!”
Obliviana continued “There's more, a message from one of patrols. They saw smoke emerging from Westbrook Garrison. When they investigated, they found nothing but corpses, scratch marks and flames.”
Once again the room fell silent. Westbrook Garrison was the closest outpost to Stormwind and acted as a barracks for the local area of Westfall. The troops had been scheduled to return to Stormwind with a skeleton crew left to disrupt any Horde invasion. It seemed the Horde had got ahead of the planned attack and wiped out the garrison. The swiftness of the strike worried the councillors as it scuppered carefully placed plans, and did not bode well for the future.
As the room slowly decayed back into the now omnipresent chaos that riddled the political gatherings of Stormwind's elite in these dark times, Rohan leant over to Obliviana and whispered “What of Chillmaster's progress? Does he accompany the Ironforgians?”.
Obliviana handed him a final scroll from her pouch, “He is at Goldshire sir, preparing for the final evacuation. Lord Smeldor did not feel ready to assist him so it is taking longer than planned.”
After everyone had gathered their thoughts, Obliviana gently placed all three reports onto the table. Rohan then bolted upright and stormed to the doorway. He cleared his throat and made sure he had the full attention of the room.
“They will hit Goldshire next. We must hurry” he commanded before pointing at Obliviana, “Take a small force and head for the town as soon as you can. Chillmaster and his men must be returned with the citizens of Goldshire, we cannot let another settlement fall into ruin!”
Gnurg then stepped forward from the crowd, her armour rustling, “Sir, if I may. Allow me to accompany. I know the men better than any, and I saw first hand what these creatures can do at the battle of Theramore.”
Rohan nodded back to her in acknowledgement, “Very well” he told her, the room now fully listening to his commands.
As head of the armed forces, the Inquisition and Divinity leaders fell into line for Rohan's rule in this time of war. After a short preparation, Obliviana and Gnurg led their company to relieve Chillmaster at Goldshire.
**Chillmaster**
Looking towards Stormwind, Chillmaster could see the rear of the Ironforge column on the horizon. They marched quickly on to the great city of the Alliance while he was left to pick up the pieces at the last Alliance town.
Goldshire sat some distance from Stormwind, yet the castle walls and mighty towers could be seen on a good day if you looked carefully enough. With only a handful of buildings other than thatched houses and wooden barns the small communal hub seemed pale in comparison to the daunting city. A large inn dominated the centre of the town, while the famous blacksmith where many of Stormwind's weapons were crafted from Goldshire's own mines sat opposite, its chimney always filling the air with smoke.
With time running around the citizens gathered as much as they could onto the carts, even the guards of the town and soldiers of Chillmaster's scouting division rushed around to try finish as soon as possible. Goldshire's guards wore the standard silver armour of Stormwind, with blue cloaks and lion crested shield, whereas the men of Chillmaster's division wore lighter armour with green cloaks, trimmed slightly with gold. They carried a cross section of bows and short swords giving them more mobility and diversity in combat.
Just when the Ironforge army walked over the hill out of sight, a feeling of dread crept through the town. Chillmaster turned his back from Stormwind promptly and gripped his sword as horses bolted from their carts. Stable hands struggled to restrain the remaining horses and citizens began to cry out in panic. Chillmaster looked up to see the sky turning dark, he swivelled around and saw darkness encapsulating the small town until it was fully surrounded. He looked up to the spires of Stormwind beyond the hill, yet his view was blocked by nothing but blackness.
Everyone stopped what their actions, the town became as silent as the dead. People stood still looking around cautiously, the guards clutched their swords while the villagers hung to their loved ones. Suddenly, dashes of shadows dashed across the town sweeping people away. Cries of help sprung all around as families were tore apart and people flung into the darkness. Chillmaster desperately spun around looking for any potential attacks yet only shadows emerged from the darkness. Slowly but surely, the villagers were picked off and everyone began backtracking to the centre, anyone who attempted to flee was heard yelling as they entered the darkness, or simply got grabbed by a shadowy figure.
After seeing the horrors before him, Chillmaster had seen enough. He firmly put his hand on his sword and bellowed “Guards of Goldshire! Draw your swords!” and immediately unsheathed his sword.
Following suit the soldiers of his company and guards of the town drew their weapons. The archers of the group dashed for the middle and looked around for targets to aim for amongst the mess. Falling into line, the soldiers began to cluster, they watched as their friends were picked off and dragged along the ground screaming in agony for help. Desperately the bowmen fired arrows at the shadows, but in vein. The soldiers attempted to bring and help as many villagers into the cohort as possible and offer protection in the middle of the village.
Finally, the screaming stopped. A handful of villagers rushed out from nearby shelter and hid behind the soldiers. The troops began looking around, clinging to their weapons and holding back the worried villagers. Some crying with hands over their eyes denying what they saw, while others could not help but peer around to see. Chillmaster scanned the surroundings, as he carefully inspected the darkness beyond the town he noticed movement. As the darkness began to edge closer towards the group, Chillmaster looked in shock at what faced him from the other side.
**Gnurg**
Frantically the Stormwind relief force made its way to Goldshire riding the fastest horses the city could muster. They rushed out over the bridge of Stormwind and under the great statues before leaving the mighty city gates. On their way they ran past the worn army of Ironforge, cutting around them. Much to the shock of Smeldor, who assumed it was a meeting party.
Upon reaching the hill above the small town, Obliviana pulled up and held her hand aloft. Gnurg came beside her and looked down to Goldshire. Despite not being as severe, darkness still surrounded the buildings and the difference was noticeable from this distance. Gnurg and Obliviana exchanged glances before continuing down the hill.
They entered the town to see empty streets and houses, their horses slowed to a gentle trot. Riding two by two the group made its way towards the centre of the town seeing nothing along the way.
“It looks like Chillmaster was able to pack up and leave in time. He is probably already hidden with the Ironforge army” posed Gnurg, who rode at the head of the chain with Obliviana.
Obliviana sighed, “No, he was not with them. I know that. Keep looking”.
Turning the corner around the Inn the two councillors gasped in horror. Lining the floor and surrounding the village lay corpses of Alliance citizens. Scratch marks could be seen entrenched along the ground, some heading into the forest without sign of stopping. As they hesitantly continued, the very middle of the town showed the worst signs of struggle. Soldiers and citizens along piled high in a group, killed where they stood. The two dismounted while the remaining men caught up and inspected the damage.
As Obliviana knelt down and ran her fingers over Chillmaster's armour, she tried to hold back the tears. She looked over the decaying bodies of the troops and the panicked expressions on their motionless bodies, locked time capsules of their last moments of horror. Before she could mourn too much, she was interrupted abruptly.
“Obliviana...” yelled Gnurg, “Men, on me!”
Darkness swiftly flew from the forest up to the city once again, screams could be heard all around. The horses began to panic and jump as the soldiers looked around worried and scared. Inside their heads voices cried out for help while whispers in their ears brought insanity closer.
Obliviana looked around and took to her feet, a lone soldier wearing a green cloak, ripped along the bottom crawled towards them. His face covered in dust and blood, looked up to the group of Stormwind troopers with a horrified expression. As the soldiers slowly approached him, a shadow strolled forward from behind the darkness.
The shadow crept closer and slowly transformed into a translucent dark knight dressed in full plated armour. Before the soldier could reach the group the shadowy figure came over him, he saw the men in front of him halter their advance and the looks on their faces. Reluctantly he turned his head to see the looming presence of the dark knight and quickly tried to drag himself along the ground towards help. As he scuttled along the floor, the shadow drew a long blade and pulled it up above him with two hands.
“No!” yelled Obliviana, drawing her bow, “Whatever you are, begone!” she aimed her bow towards the figure and fired her arrow precisely.
Failing to piece, the arrow simply shot straight through the dark knight. As it passed through the body, the knight's sword sliced through the crawling soldier's body. His eyes went white and his movements stopped. After a few seconds, the knight whistled away back into the darkness like a vapour, and the soldier with it as if sucked into the darkness. Obliviana stood frozen watching the darkness in front of her.
