**Belendor**
Gradually his eyes opened, little by little they revealed the destruction in front of him. Dense air clogged his vision and forced his eyes shut every time he tried to open, but eventually he forced the lids up to see the full scene. Struggling to his feet, he checked his side of his sword and looked around for his large shield. As he picked it up and slotted it onto his back, he stumbled forward into the city of Stormwind.
Mighty white walls towered either side of the wooden gate, reinforced with iron bars. It was now wide open, one part laying on its side as if blasted open by an external force. Smoke rose from inside the city and Belendor turned to see the outside, fires burning all around the countryside. As he walked across the bridge of Heroes, the statues of the Alliance's legends seemed to be broken, parts chipped off or the sculptures missing entirely. Alliance banners were scatted all around, torn blue and gold Stormwind flags blew in the wind while orange Ironforge standards fuelled the flames. The dark paladin smirked at the destruction of the Alliance, although he saw no soldiers, he could hear cries from within the city and entered the gates.
Through the town centre he marched, the constant fires raged throughout the severity of destruction became ever worse as echoes of screams for help became louder further into the city, yet still he continued down his path. Finally he came to the giant keep dominating the landscape. Its spires hung over the city, yet it seemed to be void of the doom that lingered throughout the rest of Stormwind. Outside the keep, Belendor noticed that Horde banners lay tattered and ripped. Red and black flags stuck into the stone cobbled pathway showed the way into the castle. Noticing this, he put his hand to his side hovering around his sheath, and carefully walked into the keep of Stormwind.
A purple velvet rug led through the hallway, strangely inside the walls the shouting stopped. His ears no longer fell victim to the pressing sound of suffering that had cursed them since opening his eyes. Dropping his guard, he walked up the long rug seeing portraits of former Stormwind leaders littering the walls, their faces scratched on every picture. He saw one that seemed untouched, reaching up to it he rubbed the sign beneath to reveal “Stray, the”. Suddenly, before he could fully uncover the message the picture rumbled and screeched causing Belendor to jump back. When he looked back to the picture, the face was now covered in scratch marks just like the others. He bit his lips and continued into the keep.
Towards the end of the velvet path, Belendor noticed the high seat of Stormwind, yet no one around to guard it. He slowly walked up the stone steps and sat on the seat. Sitting for a moment, he looked around the room, eerily quiet and empty he noticed four objects. On left of the chair, fallen to the ground lay a shield bearing a coat of arms. He peered down to wipe smoke from it, expecting to see a Stormwind lion's head, the insignia of the city, instead he noticed it showed TW, the symbol of the realm itself. Originally, before the great split of the Horde and the Alliance, the people of the world were known as TrueWoWvians, but in modern times this term had come to encompass all inhabitants of the world. Around the edge, small blue gems circled around it, their glow dimming yet still showing through.
Next to this shield, a golden royal sceptre used in ceremonies sat. On the top of it a large green gem sparkled while silver swirled around the hilt, spiralling to the top where two golden wings sprawled around the gem. Belendor's curiosity was ignited by his odd object and he reached down to grab it, but upon touching the sceptre his hand snapped back burnt by its material. Rubbing his hand to ease the pain, he looked onto the side of the chair to see the last two objects.
On the arm of the high seat of Stormwind an old book, its pages worn and leather binding battered rested next to a golden crown. The book cover was brown and a solitary red gem at the top was all that could be made out. The title of the book seemed lost, the words withered away or covered, yet Belendor did not care to inquire further. Seeing the golden crown, with three empty slots missing in it, he seized it and placed it upon his head. Triumphantly he smiled and looked around the room to see it still bereaved of life.
As he sat alone in the chamber of the high seat, he considered opening the book to see what its pages contained. Before he could continue into the line of though he heard a piercing scream. He looked up to see a figure speedily approaching up the purple carpet. Peering into the distance he couldn't make it out who the figure was, if anyone at all. Rising to his feet, as the mysterious stranger came closer into view they seemed to slow down, coming to a slow and perfect walk.
“Belendor, what have you done?” said the cloaked visitor, their appearance seeming clouded and hazy.
As it approached even closer and came within touching distance, it became clear, Belendor reached for his sword yet it seemed stuck in the sheathe. He desperately tried to drag it out but could not arm himself . Realising he couldn't, he looked the only other inhabitant of the room, straight in the eyes, their face now right in front of the chair.
“Kapernakiss?” he stumbled his words asking.
With a stone cold look on her face, not moved at all by Belendor's terror or his question, Kapernakiss cryptically told him “The crown you wear is heavy yet empty, what lays on your head is golden yet darkened, it is made of riches yet devoid of what you hold dear”.
Suddenly, before he could interpret her words, Kapernakiss stabbed him through the chest with a dagger causing him to crash back down into the chair and his eyes to shut, the world went black.
Alert, Belendor's eyes shot back open and he clutched his chest. Feeling nothing, and looking at his hand to see no sign of blood, he looked around. Panting heavily he slowly came to realise that the walls were simply that of his tent, not the mighty keep of Stormwind.
“Sir?” asked one of his Belendorian guard, peering in to the tent, “Are you ok?”.
Belendor looked up from his bed, wiped the sweat from his forehead and nodded back to his guard. He then sat for a moment thinking about the dream, it was not the first he had since Kapernakiss peered into his head on the night of her murder, but it was the most severe to date.
**Chasity**
Morning broke on the city of Stormwind, and Angel Chasity walked through the streets in her white and golden robes. Her blonde hair shining in the sunlight was long and fell down onto her back. Inside the houses she saw townsfolk peering through their windows, or head doors shut tight as people hurried to shelter. Soldiers dashed past her carrying equipment to the front line. The Horde had come on the previous night, and an attack was expected to be imminent. She then came to a group of soldiers, dressed in golden armour, accompanied by men and women in long white robes.
“My lady” said the front of the group, “Come with me, we shall defend you in the centre of the city”.
Fjord extended a hand to her, she then nodded to him, but did not accept his hand, “Take me there. I am ready” she reassured herself.
The lead Paladin retracted his hand and bit his tongue, before walking towards the centre of Stormwind. He showed her the great tree, where she would be able to focus fully and directed any villagers out of sight as to not distract her. She could keep the shield up without much thought at present, but during the heights of the battle she believed her concentration may waver. Paladins and priests took up positions around the perimeter to protect her from any break into the city.
Chasity took to her position, put her hands together and closed her eyes, seeing the city with her mind. Now lost in a trance, she was seemingly oblivious to the outside world and Fjord left her to her own devices. He walked off to take his position and the scene was set.
**Rohan**
Sat riding his white horse, Rohan watched as the army gathered. His heavy brown armour had been replaced by a bright, silver and blue colour. Stripes of gold layered the shoulders while a giant golden lion head was imprinted on the chest. The last arrangements were made for the defence of the city as archers piled onto the fortifications and the bridge was filled with infantry. Men added the finishing touches to the great gate, barricading it with long beams of wooden and iron reinforced it. He put his hand over his face to cover his eyes from the imposing sun, an ironic sight in the given circumstances.
An Age seemed to pass as he tightly gripped the reins of his mount, slowly his generals took to his side. Rohan would lead the middle column of troops under the flag of Divinity, while Smeldor's Ironforge soldiers and the leaders of Inquistion flanked him either side. Obliviana was situated on the stockades to command the ranged portion of the army. After the last soldiers fell into formation, everyone began to look around worried, it seemed very quiet and the Hordes had not moved. The council felt confident they could win a war of attrition, the fields of the outlying towns would last far longer than the Horde supply line, and the stupidity of the Horde had led to the burning of any potential farm land.
“Horde movements!” yelled Obliviana from the ramparts, “They are approaching!”
Everyone suddenly jolted into action and prepared their battle stances. Rohan nodded to the near by flag carrier who raised the Alliance banner. Cheers ran throughout the troops as they saw the banner within their ranks, they rallied to it and a sense of pride swept through the ranks.
“Ready!” called Oblviana as the Horde army came into range, “Aim!” as they drew closer.
Looking over the wall, the archers could see the vast array of Horde troops marching on their city. Their red and brown armours cluttered the lush green landscape while black armoured demonic troops seemed to only add to the horrific display of man power at their disposal. Drums began to be heard bellowing around the countryside as the thundering army edged closer. Behind the gates the soldiers on the bridge could only hear the sound of feet hitting the ground in unison paired with the constant drum beat of war.
“Hold!” commanded Obliviana as her archer core took aim at the Horde, “Hold!”.
Watching the army of the Horde approach, she held her hand up high, waiting for the moment to strike. They were now in plenty reach for the arrows to hit their ranks. She held her hand high still as their marching came to a halt and the air filled with just the sound of stretching bows and booming drums. The two armies then came to a stand off, with the Alliance having put their faith in Angel magic while the Horde's was in Demonic.
After a short time, the siege weapons of the Horde were put in to place. Obliviana watched them carefully, crude weapons but effective. Giant catapults carrying heavy stones, most likely from the harsh lands around Orgrimmar. Ballistas carrying giant spears with iron tipped heads pulled up alongside them capable of cutting through ranks of troops. It was then that the Horde made their first move.
One by one from left to right, the Horde catapults unleashed their payload onto the wall of Stormwind, followed by the ballistas from the right. Rocks and giant spears flung towards the capital ready to bulldoze down the mighty walls.
“Hold!” yelled Obliviana in the face of these projectiles flying towards her men, those manning the palisade looked nervously up into the sky to see the objects hurtling at them.
As the boulders hit the shield, they disintegrated into nothing, burning up into the air. Obliviana smiled, those not holding bows on the wall cheered. Chasity's magic had worked, and the confidence again crept down onto the soldiers of the bridge. Cheers could be heard all around the army as the Horde weaponry failed.
“Now!” Obliviana commanded, quickly gesturing down with her hand.
Upon her words the archers fired back down onto the Horde army, killing the front line. She smiled again in delight as their onslaught butchered the Horde troops. The Alliance were now free to fire down onto the Horde army and force a retreat.
Still sat in the middle of his troops, the Stormwind General waited on top of his horse. He kept his cool and was the only one whose focus did not fall amongst the ranks of celebrations and cheering. The archers on the wall were now firing at will onto their Horde counterparts.
“He is crazy” said Dje, towards Rohan, “Crazier than you even! This madman Ragnorak who leads them would lose his whole army for the sake of his pride. He has them standing there under a barrage of arrows and dares not retreat. Would not surprise me if he is stood with them!”
Blackluster cheerfully perked up and replied “Perhaps we will not have to kill anyone today! They seem to be doing it for us!”
Rohan ignored their playful jokes and remained solemn as ever. Looking round to ensure all was in place if there needed to be a battle. The shield around the city seemed to be holding, but he did not like the ease of which the Horde seemed to be laying down their lives.
Noticing no response to his mocking, Dje tried once again, “Still so serious eh Rohan? Perhaps when this is all blown over, I'll buy ya a drink!”
“Aye? A drink ya say, count me in!” shouted Smeldor from the opposite side, joining in with the banter.
**Ragnorak**
The night before, the Horde troops marched through the country side of the Alliance territories, Ragnorak marvelled in the desolation of the Stormwind settlements. Quickly making light work of any survivors or resistance along the way, the Horde army approached Stormwind itself. Giant catapults and ballistas in the rear followed the long columns of infantry. As they passed through the final town of Goldshire, its houses burning, Ragnorak closed his eyes, sniffed up and smiled at the agony of the Alliance in his path.
Opening his eyes, he saw on the horizon the towers of Stormwind, its white towers and blue roof tops in the distance sparked his excitement even more. Etching closer to the Alliance stronghold he hasted his movements, signalling for his army to march with him, faster towards war and his glorious battle. Up the hill they climbed until they were close enough to the city to see the guards patrolling the walls. Ragnorak now stopped the march, the soldiers streamed in around the point of camp and began to make their base. Ragnorak looked to the city, and saw a large golden dome slowly encase it as they ended their approach. Despite being see through, it appeared some sort of magic to prevent their attack.
The first troops to reach the new base camp began to set up tents, as soon as the large leadership tent was set up, Ragnorak called for a meeting of his generals to discuss the invasion plans. A wooden table was put together and placed in the centre of the tent on top of the grass that it covered. A map of the city and the surrounding area was placed along it causing the heads of the Horde army to crowd around to view their coming battle.
“They will put their main force here, along the bridge and barricade the gate. While their archers will pummel us as we try enter the city, from along their walls” said Economist, pointing to the outside wall along the map.
Ragnorak looked at him unimpressed, “Of course they will stupid. Don't say the obvious, say something useful”.
Economist backed down after being yelled at by the war chief, a lesser captain then asked “I noticed a golden...thing around the city. What is that? How do we fight it?”.
Nodding back to him, Ragnorak looked up, outside of the tent to the city itself, “I know not what it is. Angel trickery most likely. Our siege weapons may not be able to pierce it, we will need a way to bypass it.”
“Perhaps the port?” asked Economist, “Their forces will be at the front, they won't expect an attack from behind. We have Lord Gorecleave's fleet and could sail in to...”
Cutting off his general, Ragnorak sighed angrily, “They do not expect it because it is impossible. Stormwind is set up to make any naval invasion impossible, even without their ships an attack from the sea would be a disaster.. Perhaps you would be better served unpacking the supplies than planning the battle?” he snapped.
Before the tensions could rise any further, Gorecleave confidently added his input, “I can enter the city, despite that barrier. There will be an Angel inside their defences providing it. Leave them to me. She will be lightly defended so give me some men and I will put an end to their magic. You will need a distraction for me to gain entry, however. The only entrance to the city seems to be their so heavily guarded wall and gate.”
“Oh” replied Ragnorak, “It is not the only entry point. I have planned this attack for years, had my scouts find everything about this abomination of a settlement. There are other ways. I will give you the men you need, and the way in to the city.”
Curious as to Horde leader's idea, Gorecleave looked at him and instructed “Show me”.
Ragnorak smiled back, “Squire!” he called, “Bring me the crate labelled Project C!”, his large smile continued until a small Horde solider entered the tent and dropped a box on the table.
As the room looked at the crate, Ragnorak nodded towards the Demon king who opened it up and unpacked some of the contents. Onto the table he lay spiked boots, a pair of pickaxes and a folded up piece of cloth. Gorecleave held final piece in his hands and looked at the Horde commander confused.
After a moment of everyone inspecting the items, Ragnorak proudly explained “See this?” he pointed to a long stretch of mountains to the side of the city, “they are known as the Burning Steppes. It is possible to scale this range, and use what we call a parachute, to glide down into the city. They will never see it coming. If you take a short group you will be undetected, and can reach the inner fortifications.”
Gorecleave smiled and unfolded the parachute in his hands. After a brief demonstration, he understood the mechanics of the device and selected the men he needed for his mission. Ragnorak then went over the rest of the battle plan with his generals and they walked out of the tent, into the bulk of the army.
After Gorecleave and his men had left for the Burning Steppes, Ragnorak called for his men to gather. Once ready, he walked onto a make shift podium and began to address them all on the eve of battle.
“Mighty Horde warriors!” he proudly yelled into the crowd. “We stand here at the foot of the pathetic homeland of the Alliance. Look behind me, they quiver behind those walls hoping we never set foot inside their miserable city. Take rest tonight, for tomorrow we storm the walls and glory awaits!”
After cheers and celebrations, the troops dispersed to their tents, the siege weapons were tied down and checked to be battle ready. As night came, Ragnorak took to his bed yet could not slumber. He quickly left it to stare at the now torch lit walls of Stormwind. On his face crept a wicked grin, his eyes staring into his long awaited battlefield while his hand gripped his giant axe.
**Chasity**
Seeing the failure of the Horde's efforts brought a slight smile to Chasity's face. Her eyes remained closed however and she promptly returned to her stern look of focus. Under the tree she kept the Alliance city safe and zoned out any distractions. The cheering of the Alliance army, the distress of the villagers and the beating of drums fell to silence as she concentrated on her magic.
Without notice, a darkness clouded her vision, she twitched as she realised and tried to retain her focus, yet something was wrong. Screams and yells penetrated her bubble of silence, but these were not cries from the citizens of Stormwind. She opened her eyes to see a darkness approaching from left, Paladins quickly ran past her shouting to each other as Priests prayed and ushered spells from behind.
Looking towards where they headed, she saw Paladins fighting heavily armoured Horde troops, while black armoured men clung to the roof tops and jumped down into the fight. Standing their ground the Paladins were butchered one by one and Chasity began to realise the situation. Thrown back, she looked down to see a Paladin with his armour shredded bleeding on the ground.
Through the chaos, the Paladins tried to hold back the invading troops, yet a large knight dressed in black and purple walked through the middle of them with conviction. The darkness swept through the city as he stepped forward clouding all before him, his eyes seemed locked on Chasity.
Snapping from her concentration, Chasity focused on the individual. This must be the Demon they call Gorecleave, the one clouding her mind. She brought forth her golden battle staff, lifted her hood up around her hair and prepared to fight the Demon King.
**Rohan**
Abruptly, a horn could be heard from inside the city. Almost at once every soldier's head turned to the main city as the horn could be heard. It blew a second time, and there could be no mistake. The horn of the Arch Angel had been blown, there was trouble with the Paladins.
Cutting the jokes, Dje then looked to the commander of the forces, “Rohan, Chasity is in trouble, what do we do?”
Rohan looked up to see the golden dome begin to fall back, fading into nothing. All around his men looked up in amazement as their protection disappeared as if never there. Their attention was then quickly grabbed by the Horde siege weapons, the Stormwind walls now left defenceless to their attacks. Stones flew over the barricades into the ranks of Alliance men sending soldiers flying through the air. Others smashed into the walls of the city, hurtling the stone blocks around. Archers on the walls themselves dived out of the way of incoming rocks, those unlucky enough were blasted off the fortifications. Obliviana looked down to Rohan panicked and seeking guidance.
He nodded his head and jolted his horse, walking through the ranks of his army. Creating a path through the men, they clambered to safety from the incoming fire while he showed no fear and walked through it. Rocks fell all around as he continued to the front of his army.
Rohan then took one deep breath, looked to his generals and told them, “We charge.”