**Merkava**
Finishing his duties assigned to him by Justicelight, the former Alliance Paladin began the return to his quarters. The skies were devoid of stars and it seemed colder than usual, yet he thought nothing of it, his silver and gold armour keeping him warm. Walking down the torch lit path he passed the chapel, noticing the doors left swinging. Prays and ceremonies were held in the hours of light, so why would it be open now?
Shrugging he walked past, before pausing for a moment and turning back into the chapel. There were no lights lit, no torches to show the way, in the darkness the room looked so different when not filled with golden paladins and a gleaming sun in the sky. Only moonlight brightened it up, illuminating narrow passages along the floor. Merkava continued in regardless for the stairs.
“Hello?” he asked with worry in his tone, “Who goes there?” he reached the stone spiral stair case.
Placing his hand on the wall he slowly climbed the stairs, wrapping around the bell tower until he reached the summit itself, a look out across the whole of the Plaglands. The giant brass bell gently swayed from side to side in the wind and a figure stood behind it and Merkava held his breath.
“The night is darker than normal today.” said a familiar voice, “Something stirs beyond the trees.”
Merkava let a sigh of relief, “You had me scared old friend” he took his place next to the figure, “What brings you here at this time?”
As he approached the figure became clear as Justicelight, “Can you not feel it? I know the air is heavy now and the land silent, yet tonight it is something else. We must be ready at all times, for that is our duty”.
“And yet you would have me feed the cattle and horses!” mocked Merkava.
Justice sarcastically smiled, “There is a time and place for everything my friend. Come, the night is cold, we should make our leave” the pair turned for the stairs.
As they walked down the tower stairs, a loud shriek sliced into their ears. In the darkness of the tower Merkava looked behind him to Justice, who similarly looked down with a equal bemusement, without hesitation the two sprinted back up to the tower. From the clouds above a gold and white beam of light shot down ahead of them, they covered their faces as the wind ferociously swept across the land blowing down trees and forcing the paladins back a step. They gazed in astonishment at the feat before their eyes as the heavens themselves seemed to open up. Lightning slammed down around a small opening in the forest, the skies above them roared with thunder and the glowing beam seemed to spiral down blinding their sight.
Holding on to the banister around the tower, Merkava noticed Justicelight had taken to the bell itself. The screaming noise continued, only to be accompanied by the swinging of the bell. Echoing around the camp it chimed, Merkava watched as lights sprung up around the chapel and Paladins came out to see the commotion. One by one they looked up to the skies expressionless at the beam of light and daunting skies.
Ceasing from the bell tower, Justicelight stood next to Merakva and shouted down to the Paladins, “My brothers and sisters! Look to the skies, this is our moment! Gather your weapons and ready the steeds! We march for Darrowshire!”
“Justice!” yelled Merkava trying to be heard over the howling wind, “What does it mean? What is happening?”
Looking at him and smiling, Justice replied, “The Angels are coming.”
**Blackluster**
Holding firmly onto his sword and shield the frightened Stormwind warrior felt his back hit firmly against the wooden wall. Biting his tongue he closed his eyes and told himself this was it. As he began to think of his life, regrets and memories flashed before him. He had come so far yet in the end he would meet his end just as if he had remained in Stormwind. It was then he heard it, a banshee scream screeched into his ears causing his eyes to shoot open.
Looking before him the roof collapsed and splintering wood shot through the air giving a giant thud. Shielding his face, he gradually looked up to see a bright light in the middle of the hooded figures that had been encroaching on him. Around it the brown robes seemed to stand, some struggling to to keep upright, motionless they watched.
Likewise Blackluster gazed at the beauty of what was before him, it seemed to be kneeling down and facing him with its head covered. After a few seconds the people of Darrowshire hissed all at once. Together they made their way on to the centre of the room to attack the glowing figure. As they drew close it looked up to Blackluster, right in the eyes giving him a large shock, causing him to nearly fall back if not for the wall to his rear. It seemed to smile as he noticed two swords in either of its hand placed firmly on the ground. Before he could realise what was happening the figure vanished and a swirl of gold trickled through the room.
Two golden lines dashed from one of the villagers to another as they desperately looked around the room. Almost in slow motion Blackluster tried to keep up, seeing glimpses of the golden figure appear around sides of the room. Robes started dropping to the ground a few seconds after being struck by the golden lines and the dark manifestations started turning away from Blackluster and focus on their new foe.
Blinking briefly, Blackluster made his way for the door. Gripping the knob it seemed to be stuck, he kept turning round to see the carnage behind him.
“Come on, come on!” he yelled at the door, “Open damn you!” he told it panicing for his life.
Finally the door unlocked and he flung it open into the cold courtyard, still looking over his shoulder. As he turned to away from the tavern he gasped, a shadowy figure right in front of him, its red glowing eyes staring into Blackluster’s soul, hissing. It breathed directly into his face chilling the Stormwind knight to the core. Frozen in fear Blackluster stared death in the face.
Suddenly the figure was swept away, Blackluster closed and opened his eyes quickly, looking to his left he saw another golden figure flying up onto the houses, the robe that was in front of him now lay wasted to the side. He watched as this new angelic figure glided leaving only golden trails all over the town, swinging a staff into the attacking villagers.
Away from the tavern he stumbled trying not to fall down. In the darkness he desperately tried to find a path out of the town. Looking back behind him, the windows of the tavern smashed open and the golden figure flashed out joining the second in combat against the shadows outside. It dart up and around the town joining the fray, yet he could still not make out what it truly was. Wandering forward hugged walls for cover and held them to keep himself up right, hoping no one saw. Despite his intentions, without a guide he struggled to find the route out of Darrowshire.
Slowly he ended up fleeing to the middle of the town he came to a stone fountain, yet it appeared no water had run from it in a long time. Shivering, he spun around seeing more and more shadows and dark figures moving in the distance, their screeching drawing closer, the hissing growing louder. Clouds of darkness seemed to make their way to the small town of Darrowshire, the helpless Blackluster watched in awe as the two figures of light tried to keep them at bay.
**Merkava**
Upon Justicelight’s instructions the whole Holy Order had quickly sprung from their slumber and now readied to march. Merkava had never seen so must urgency among his fellow Paladins as they prepared for what he could only assume was battle. The whole camp seemed to be getting themselves ready, he watched as the stable was emptied and armoury depleted.
“Merkava, with me!” ordered Justice with another horse ready.
Saddling up, Merkava joined Justicelight at the front of the column, he looked behind him to see a long streak of mounted Paladins. Moonlight gleamed down onto their silver armour, gold paved the way back through the camp and torches gave light to the dark skies around.
Looking up to the skies, Merkava noticed the clouds push back and the long beam go out, now only above the town itself shone the light. Seeing his concern Justicelight patted him on the back, smiled and nodded at him.
“Now my friend. Now you see what it means to be a Paladin!” he motioned his horse onwards to begin.
Following suit Merakva went with him, looking back to see Paladins start their charge with their leader, Giant white banners with golden wings were held high aloft, the symbol of the Paladin order. As they made their way to Darrowshire the cavalry began to speed up, going quicker into the forest away from the chapel. Drawing closer to the battle seemed only to speed up their charge.
Coming to a clearing, Justice stopped overlooking the derelict town. He put his hand up causing the following Paladins to encompass him and Merkava in an semi circle, Merakva noticed he was the only one not in line, but overlooking the cliff. In front of them below, hundreds of shadows and dark figures rushed into the forest, so many it seemed they were one mass rather than individuals. They came from every angle into the town to seemingly no end. Gold and silver flashed from side to side stopping the shadows in their tracks giving only light in the very middle of the courtyard.
Trotting up and down Justicelight triumphantly told his followers “Brothers and sisters! Gaze upon the darkness. Tonight we are the light, we have had our troubles, our fights and our battles. But tonight we define ourselves, we define our order!” he drew his sword, a golden light emanated from it, “Ride now for Darrowshire, let us purge the town. For the light, in the name of Roel!”
Drawing their swords and raising their spears, the Paladin army cheered overlooking the town of Darrowshire.
“To fight besides Angels. I never thought I would live to see such an honour.” whispered Justicelight.
“But what does it mean? Why now? Darrowshire has been lost to us for some time, why now do they come? And this many demons and corrupted townsfolk, I have never seen such a force!” said Merkava.
“Whatever it is, we shall soon find out my friend. Come!” Justice jolted forward and began the charge into the town.
**Blackluster**
Stumbling around Darrowshire’s courtyard, Blackluster began to cling to his chest once more, he dropped his weapons to the side and dropped to the fountain. He noticed grass growing from the stone floor below him, but his attention was drawn to the battle around. Shadow figures managed to get past the golden defenders and make their way to him, only to be picked off once more and flung into the night.
As he rubbed his face and wondered what nightmares were in store next, he heard a large roar to the East on the cliff. Swinging round and looking up, he saw a flurry of mounted torches descend down the hill towards the town. Squinting his eyes as they drew closer, he saw banners of white and golden carried through the air. The ground shook as the horses galloped into the fray and the stampede echoed throughout the valley. Blackluster considered running, but realised he had nowhere left to run, he simply sat and accepted his fate.
Sitting on the cold stone fountain, the horses ran straight past him, he glanced up to see silver armoured knights and trails of gold fly around. To his amazement they sprinted to meet the oncoming shadows and held them back. All around him the two armies smashed into each other as the golden light figures dashed from roof top to roof top battling incoming darkness. The torches of the oncoming army lit the town giving glowing light all around.
It was then that one of the mounted troops noticed the solitary soldier and made their way to him. Blackluster realised and quickly looked for his sword on the ground.
Looking down to him, the Paladin Meko asked “Who are you? What are you doing here?”
Blackluster stopped looking for his sword and peered up to the Paladin, “My name is Blackluster, I was told to come here. Well, to you, I mean, Paladins” his mind muddled amongst the confusion and exhaustion.
Meko looked back down at him, noticing he was different from the crippled and deformed villagers “Come with me” he offered his hand to get on the horse, “We will see what the others have to say.”
Blackluster nodded back and reached out, before quickly turning for his shield. Grabbing the heirloom he then joined on horseback as the town erupted in a clash of darkness and light.
**Ragnorak**
Smugly sat on the throne of Stormwind the Horde war chief held his newly formed council of Stormwind. Around the room stood his own advisors, as well as what was left of Stormwind’s own council.
“First order of business sir, we need to find a way to feed the city. Many farmers either fled or refuse to work” said Ragnorak’s second in command Economist.
The war chief swished a golden cup of wine in his hand, seemingly uninterested at the remarks of his advisor. Nervously the other council members looked at each other, forcing Economist to continue.
“Perhaps we could try appease them. In the meantime I can request rations sent from Thunderbluff, Lord Darchow informs me they have plenty and Matsy is always willing to share, for a price of course.” he told the chamber.
Again the members looked to the new King of Stormwind, his gaze still firmly locked inside the cup. Tapping his foot Economist carried on.
“Second order of business. I believe we should deal with the Ironforgians, we have..” before being cut off.
“What shall we call it?” Ragnorak interrupted.
Biting his lip and looking down before looking back up, Economist asked “Call what, sir?”
“Sorry were you talking?” mocked Ragnorak getting up from his seat and walking down the small steps from the throne, “I wasn’t listening. The city. What shall we call it? Stormwind is an Alliance name, I want one that speaks for the glory of the Horde! Perhaps NOrgrimmar? To show it is second to the greatest city in the world?”
The rest of the room nodded in agreement scared of the easily aggravated leader, except for one who laughed, “NOrgrimmar? That’s a terrible name! You can’t even pronounce it” jabbed Amorian.
Silent dawned over the chamber. People slowly took steps away from Amorian as Ragnorak turned around to face him and reached for his axe. Eyes all around traced his movements as he grabbed it and took steps towards the Horde advisor.
“Stupid, you say?” growled Ragnorak, “You think my idea is...stupid?”
“Well, I mean” stammered Amorian seeing the sharpness of the battle axe, “Maybe...”
“Enough!” bellowed the now enraged Ragnorak, slicing the head of the councillor clean up, there was a brief pause as the head dropped to the floor, “Anyone else have any thoughts on the new name?”
“I will put it in the next edition of our paper the Forum” said Etro, the Stormwind writer.
As two stewards ran in and carried the corpse and head of Amorian away, everyone else agreed with Ragnorak and nodded, facing directly down.
“Good”, he told them, turning back to his chair, “Continue with your bla-bla Economist” he motioned with his hand in a turning motion.
Before Economist could carry on the doors slammed open and a gush of air swept through the chamber. Ragnorak quickly turned and gazed down the long hall way. Gorecleave stormed up the purple carpet and glared menacingly towards the Horde leader.
“Leave us! All of you, at once!” shouted Ragnorak forcing the advisors to scurry away leaving only a handful of guards, “What brings you here?”
“Do not waste my time.” commanded the dark knight, “You sit here discussing your frivolities!”
Ragnorak looked back at him and took to his seat, “What do you mean? The city is ours, the Alliance are in ruins and their leaders dead or captured.”
Stepping forward Gorecleave’s gaze became narrower and his voice lowered, “You think I took this pitiful city so you could sit here and drink? You think this war, your powers, my return was so you could have a seat to sit in?”
“This seat holds the power of the whole kingdom! The Horde are victorious, we are victorious! What more cou” replied Ragnorak.
Now up the stairs, the demon king interrupted Ragnorak and knocked his golden chalice off the arm rest. The wine spilled all onto the ground and Ragnorak looked down to the ground. He reached for his axe and stood up to face Gorecleave, the Horde guards around the room readied their weapons and watched closely.
Before he could say anything, he felt a hand chocking his throat and was raised above the ground. Gorecleave held him aloft and started into his eyes, Ragnorak suddenly felt weak and his axe dropped to the ground clanging as it did. Around the room the soldiers took a step forward, before the dark king staring at them, pushing them onto the walls. He let loose his gaze upon them and they nervously returned to their positions, watching helplessly.
“You fool! You let him escape! We took this city not for you, not for a chair and not to settle some silly debate between the factions of your people. We took it for one person, the son of the Chosen. You really think I helped you take Theramore for reinforcements? So that I could help your little campaign? The seat of Theramore was held by the wielder of the green gem, descendant of Bluebell. Now that Wilcox is dead we needed to kill the other blood line.” he tightened his grip around Ragnorak’s throat “But you let him escape. Find him. He will go to the Paladins in the north.” the hand parted dropping Ragnorak to the ground.
Gasping for air the Horde leader watched as the dark knight left the room, marching down the corridor. Outside the keep the council stood waiting and. Guards rushed to help their war chief to his feet and the councillors slowly streamed in.
“What happened? Are you ok sir?” Economist asked his leader.
Still gasping for air, Ragnorak looked at him, “Send a message to Marick, tell him to ready the army of Silvermoon. Order him to attack the chapel of the Paladins.”