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The End

-by Gwydman

The strong Night Elven warrior crouched in the bush waiting for the group of Horde to move steadily closer, totally unaware at what was going to happen to them.

He let the warrior walk past with the rogue stalking at his side. The shaman would be the first to go. He needed to move quick and be precise for this was just a searching party sent out to scout the surrounding area. The Alliance had lured the Horde here by leaving the area "undefended" and the information was the past to a spy who leaked it around Orgrimmar.

The Shaman was now less than twenty yards out. He charged catching the shaman off guard. The first swing with his Barbarous blade cleaved off the shield arm of the Shaman leaving him mortally wounded he then finished off the shaman with an execute.

By the time he had taken out the shaman the rogue and warrior had turned and running back to join the fight. His biggest threat the rogue, Gwydman grabbed the Shamans shield and ran dead on into the Undead Warrior knocking him down with a considerable head ache. Yet it wasn't fast enough... his highly honed warrior senses had caught the rogues movements at the last second. The blade was already inches from his back. He started to drop to his knees and as he dropped he rolled to his right and got his feet under him as quickly as possible and then lunged at the rogue, slicing in through rib cage, lung, and heart, killing him instantly.

He stood up and looked around. Where was the warrior? Oh no, he thought to himself... he left that skeletal p.o.s. run off. He looked down the road where the group had come from, there was nothing. Then there was a sound being carried from long off on the wind... the sound of battle drums and pounding feet. The Horde army was marching forward.

The sound of drums and feet brought him back to the present, where he stood with his troops in the Alterac Valley on the verge of defeat. He was older now, to say the least, but he was still strong despite his age. He bared the scars of prievous battles between the Horde and Alliance, the Dwarves of Black Rock Depths, and many other evil and vile creatues.

The last defense for the Alliance would soon fall and the Horde would finally win the decade long war between the two factions. He had reinforcements on the way but he knew they would not be in time, they were two days out and the horde only two-hundred yards out, fixing armor & weapons and healing their wounded. He would be able to take a long rest from the killing and the pain of lost ones.

Two hours later the Horde charged. Gwydman told his Hunters to hold until they could see the whites of their eyes. 175 yards... 100 yards... 50 yards... 30yards... "FIRE!!!" yelled the great warrior. Hundreds of arrows, bolts, and bullets flew towards their targets and the first two Horde lines fell flat. "FIRE AT WILL!" The arrows, bolts, and bullets started firing as fast as possible.

"For Elune and the Alliance... CHARGE!" The few mages and warlocks they had opened up with their spells as the warriors, rogues, and paladins charge into the Horde lines. Gwydman was the first one to hit the front line. He used his Barbarous blade to cut his way through, trying to make his way back to their casters. He burst into a whirlwind attack taking down a rogue and hunter who happened to be near. As he continued to slice and dice his way through the Horde he noticed that there was no longer any Alliance near him and that no Horde were coming close enough to hit.

He went into a reckless rage rage and charged the closest group trying to keep them within range of his sword but they just weren't staying still. All of a sudden all went quiet and a path formed from in the middle of the mass and the warrior stopped fighting. He moved to the middle of the circle and awaited what was coming. Down the path strode Grarr the Invincible. He stood no chance he knew but would fight til the bitter end.

"You have fought bravely Gwydman and I offer you the ability to walk out of here alive if you tell me everything I want to know," grumbled the giant Orc.

"Fat chance you ugly, motherless ogre," and with that the Night Elf chaarged head long into a superior enemy. After many, would be fatal blows that would have felled any lesser man, the Night Elf fell bleeding to death on the ground praising Elune for the ability to make it so far.

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