#but Hordies? it’s all they really do for a few weeks day and night day and night

[scorpia-is-babey]

Scorpia (plus all Hordies) being obsessed with the twelve Etherian moons post-war

[jakkosisle]

The Battle For Lordaeron: Part VII - Exit Strategy

After picking up Soozee, Jakko flew back over to the Southern Courtyard, and not a moment too soon.  The Horde was pulling back from the courtyard and was making its way through the eastern half of the city to the second rally point in the palace gardens.  “Alright.” Jakko said.  “We’ll just follow them from up here and-“

An arrow hit Jakko right in the wing.  “BWONSAMDI FUCKS HAMSTERS FOR BREAKFAST!” he swore as he quickly lost altitude and crashed into the courtyard.  The two goblins on his back tumbled across the ground as he morphed back into troll form.  He looked to his shoulder to inspect the wound.

Yup.  Darnassian Arrow in his shoulder.  Pretty deep.

He looked around - most of the Horde had already fled, and in front of the Boomsprocket siblings was a very large, very angry Alliance army that had now spotted the three of them.  Several Stormwind footmen lowered their spears and charged at them.

Oh, this is just hilarious. Jakko thought to himself.  After surviving the horrors of the blight and the vengeful wrath of a paladin with a vendetta, it’s some random-ass night elf archer who got off a lucky shot that ends up killing him and his sisters.  Whatever being is responsible for weaving the fate of mortals must be laughing its ass off right now.

Before the Alliance could close the distance though, someone landed between them.  They screamed so loud at the soldiers that they had to cover their ears (so did Jakko and his sisters - they cursed trolls and goblins alike for having such big ears).  The stranger then fired several arrows at the footmen before turning around.

It was Sylvanas Windrunner.

“Don’t just sit there!  Move!  Second Rally Point!  Go!” the Warchief shouted at them before engaging the Alliance once more.

None of them had any trouble following that particular order, as they all ran off toward the east side of the city.  Jakko spared a glance back and watched in horror and awe as Sylvanas held off the entire Alliance army more-or-less single-handed.

Damn.

She was an evil bitch, but for the briefest moment, he was glad that she was on their side.

Marbelma had finally gotten free of those damned vines and made her way down the rubble back into the courtyard.  She saw Roniaar, on his hands and knees, panting next to a dead hydra.  “Roniaar?  What the hell happened to ye?” she asked.

“Things got hairy.” Roniaar said.  “I…” he gasped for breath.  “I had to ascend.”

Marbelma’s eyes widened.  She didn’t know a whole lot about shamanism, but she knew that becoming an ascendent, even temporarily, was incredibly dangerous.  Things must’ve really gotten bad down here if Roniaar was willing to take a risk like that.

She looked around and saw that the courtyard was largely devoid of Horde now.  Save for one particular Hordie…

“Sylvanas…” Marbelma breathed as she watched the Warchief fire a seemingly endless amount of arrows into the Alliance, leaping from place to place.  “What’s she doin’?!”

“Trying to cover her Horde’s retreat.” Tendalel reported.

“Gah!” Marbelma jumped.  “Don’t do that!”

“Can’t help it.  Void elf AND a rogue.” Ten said.  “Anyway, there’s still a few Horde stragglers in the courtyard and Sylvanas is trying to cover their retreat.”

“She’s vulnerable…” Marbelma said with a grin as she unsheathed her hammer.  “This is our chance!” she shouted as she ran towards the Banshee Queen.

“Marbles!  Wait!” Roniaar said as he took off after her, still struggling to catch his breath so soon after ascension.

“…I’m gonna have to go with them, aren’t I?” Ten asked no one in particular.  He sighed.  “The things I do for guildies…” he muttered before sprinting after the two.

The three Alliance heroes didn’t get very far.  Sylvanas eventually hopped on top of a large pile of rubble and aimed her last few arrows not at any Alliance troops…but at the massive vats of blight that lined the sides of the battlefield.

“…Oh, son of a bitch.” Marbelma cursed, realizing what was about to happen.

As the arrows hit the massive canisters, they detonated, blight rushing across the battlefield.  The trio hit the ground, somehow believing that would shield them from the worst of it…

…And somehow, it did.

Marbelma looked up and saw, much to her own surprise, that she was surrounded not by Blight, but by a large dome of holy energy that shielded them.  “Quickly!” said the priest who must’ve saved them.  “Back to the other side of the battlefield!  I don’t know how long I can maintain this shield!”

Marbelma nodded and stood up.  “Come on, you two!  On yer feet!” she barked at Roniaar and Tendalel as they stood up and walked with the priest as they, and several other priests who managed to bubble some very lucky Alliance soldiers, made their way to the western end of the courtyard where there wasn’t any blight.

The priest dropped his shield.  “Thanks.” Marbelma said.

“It was an honor, hero.”

…And that’s when Marbelma realized just who, exactly, had saved her life.

The face of Anduin Wrynn smiled down on her, before the High King walked off to meet with Proudmoore and Greymane to discuss the next course of action.

It then occurred to Marbelma that hers wasn’t the first life the High King saved today.  Probably wouldn’t be the last, either.  Perhaps she had misjudged him - it takes stones to walk into a cloud of blight just to save a few random adventurers, after all.

The Horde’s next order from their Warchief was a surprising one - evacuate.  They were to withdraw back into the Undercity, where mages were waiting to teleport the battle’s survivors to a safer place.  As Baine herded the Horde’s champions out of the gardens and through the throne room, Jakko caught a glimpse of Sylvanas and Saurfang arguing about something.

The troll supposed it wasn’t all that surprising that they were pulling out.  They had defended the city as best they could, but with the Alliance now completely overrunning the ruins on the surface, it was only a matter of time before they’d take it.  He’d heard that Sylvanas had detonated the last of the blight bombs in the courtyard, but he knew that was just to buy the Horde more time to withdraw.  It wouldn’t hold the Alliance back for long.

They took the elevator down into the center ring of the Undercity.  Striding by Spritzie’s side was the only pet Spritzie brought with her to survive the battle - Angel, her wolfhawk.  It whined as it sensed her mistress’s distress and tried to nuzzle the goblin to comfort her.

Soozee was fiddling with her belt, muttering curses as her void suit seemed to be sparking.  “Shit.” she cursed.  “Void suit’s been damaged.  Must’ve happened when we took that spill after that arrow shot you down, Jakko.”

“Yeah, the arrow…” Jakko said as he eyed the bandage where a shamanistic healer took out the arrow, slapped some healing water on the wound, and called for his next patient.  Orcs weren’t known for their bedside manner.  Course, that wound was minor compared to what that dwarf had given him.

He rubbed at the handprint on the right side of his face.  The flesh was still raw.  It would probably take weeks to heal, even with trollish regeneration.  Except…doesn’t fire nullify regeneration?  He wondered if this scar would actually heal.

If it doesn’t, one more for the collection.  Jakko looked down at the gash scar on his palm, and rubbed at the jagged scar on the side of his torso.  Orcs viewed scars as badges of honor, and proof of courage and strength.  Jakko didn’t really see it that way.  His scars felt more like monuments to his mistakes.

They eventually found a mage with a portal.  Standing beside the mage was Commander Johriah Lawrence.  “Do not despair, Horde.” he said to his champions to try and lift their spirits.  “Though we may have lost this battle, the war is far from over.”

As if THAT was a comfort.

Jakko and his sisters stepped through the portal.

With the blight blocking the Alliance’s path, the only way past it was with the flying machines Gelbin Mekkatorgue had brought with him through the ren’dorei’s portal.  The problem was that there weren’t much of them, so only a handful of the Alliance’s champions could go with Anduin to finish this battle once and for all.

Marbelma and her group would not be among them.  For her, the battle was over.

“It can’t be over!” Marbelma raged as her group marched back through the breach Jaina had created earlier and back to Brill.  “I’m not done yet!”

“You are.” Vindicator Rhyliaandra firmly told her old squire.  “You’ve no reason to be ashamed, Marbelma.  You fought with righteous fury this day, and in doing so, inflicted a wound on the Horde they will not recover from.  You have earned this respite.”

“You don’t understand!” Marbelma said.  “The troll!  The one who killed my parents!  He was here!”

“…He was?” Rhyliaandra asked.

“I dueled him on top of the battlements!” Marbelma said.

“I DO recall her seeing dueling a troll atop the wall.” Roniaar said.  “Are you sure it was him?” he asked.

“Positive.” Marbelma said.  “The fucker even admitted to it.”

“How did you know it was him?” Tendalel said.

“I heard him saying ‘piksap.’” Marbelma replied.  “He said the same thing the night he murdered my parents.  I’d know his voice anywhere.”

“Strange.” Tendalel said.  “‘Piksap’ is actually a goblin curse word.  Why would a troll know it?”

Marbelma paused in thought.  It WAS strange, now that she thought about it.  In fact…  “He didn’t really talk with a troll accent.” she realized.  “He talked more like a….goblin, if anything.”

“Interesting.  Did you get his name?” Ten asked.

Marbelma shook her head.  “I had him dead to rights before he caught me off guard.”  She reached up and touched the claw marks that dominated the left side of her face, nearly taking her eye.  “Didn’t see the point in learning his name.”

“Well, without knowing his name, it’s gonna be harder to find him in the future.” Tendalel said.

“Assuming he survives this battle.” Marbelma said.  As much she wanted to kill him herself, she’d settle for seeing his corpse piled among the hundred other Horde corpses that will be collected once this battle is over.

“And if he doesn’t?” the rogue asked.

Marbelma scowled at the void elf.  “What business is it of yours, anyway?” she demanded.

“I’m a rogue, but more specifically, I’m a spy.” Tendalel said.  “I’m less about assassination and more gathering intelligence.  Wouldn’t be the first time I had to track someone down.  Granted, it’d be hard without a name, but a troll with a goblin accent?  Not many of those in the world.  I’m pretty sure I can find a name soon enough.”

“…And what would it cost me?” Marbelma asked.  She knew that rogues of all stripes never did anything for free.

“Oh, I’ll think of something.” Ten replied with a wink.  “Favor for a favor.”

It was then that the group heard a series of explosions coming from the Ruins of Lordaeron.  They turned around and stared, wide-eyed, as clouds of blight erupted from all the buildings...

And began to pour towards them.

“Move!” Rhyliaandra barked as the withdrawing Alliance forces all broke out in a run for Brill, away from the blight.  Thankfully, they all had a decent headstart on the blight, and were able to make it to Brill safely just before the blight stopped just shy of its outskirts.  After catching their breath, the Champions of the Alliance all looked up at the city and stared in horror.

Jakko really shouldn’t have been surprised by what he saw from the railings of the Horde gunship he and the others had been ported to.  The Ruins of Lordaeron were completely covered in blight - Sylvanas’s final contingency, no doubt.  He should’ve known that she would rather destroy her own city rather than allow it to fall into Alliance hands.

The Champions of the Horde looked on as the gunship they all managed to evacuate onto turned west and flew for Kalimdor.  It was bittersweet.  They had lost a strategically valuable city, and with it, most of Lordaeron.  But they could at least take comfort in the fact that the Alliance wouldn’t be able to use the city as a fortress of their own, like they were likely planning.

The Forsaken had taken it the hardest.  They weren’t an emotional people, but they seemed even more melancholic than usual.  Jakko sympathized with them, despite himself.  They had just lost their home, after all.

Just as the night elves had lost theirs.

Guess we’re even, now. he ruefully thought to himself.

Though that’s probably not how the Alliance sees it.

Right now, the Horde was en route back to Orgrimmar, where it will heal its wounded, bury its dead, and plan what its next move.  The Alliance will likely do the same, sailing back to Stormwind.  Jakko didn’t really know what was going to happen after that.  After taking so many losses in the Battle for Lordaeron, it was hard to imagine the Horde, or the Alliance for that matter, mustering enough strength for another battle of this scale anytime soon.

But it was also hard to imagine either the High King or the Warchief giving up so easily.

Jakko knew one thing for sure, though.  This wasn’t over.  Not by a long shot.  This wasn’t Warsong Gulch or Arathi Basin.  This wasn’t some glorified slap fight over flags or resources in some box canyon in the middle of nowhere.  This was it.  The big one.  The final showdown between Alliance and Horde.

The Battle for Azeroth.

And it was just getting started.