- -by Slyph
((An alternate ending to Slyph, in this one... he had survived the assault on Silverpine, and Elena and he had never met.))
Slyph's cold veins felt the call. The call to war. Unending conflict.... no. It would end. Very soon. The drums of war sounded, the Horde marched towards through Westfall. This was total warfare. The land burned beneath their feet. There was going to be no quarter given.
Slyph could see the rage in the Orcs, the lust for blood. He saw the normally peaceful Tauren, thumping their chests and wanting the destruction of all the Alliance. The trolls... well, they always seemed ready for war. For the blood.
The Forsaken were smiling, those that could. Finally, their living oppressors would meet their end.
Sentinel Hill fell with barely a fight. The civilians were taken, and executed. No quarter. Not for what the Alliance had done.
Dire assassins had poisoned Thrall, nearly killing him. He was in a coma. Overlord Saurfang took command, and demanded vengeance. Evidence was with that the King of Stormwind, and his ally, Lady Prestor, had given the order. Cairne also lay mortally wounded. His age left him more vulnerable to the poison. The assassins had been more direct with the leaders of the Undercity. Varimathras's head was mounted on a pike right outside the Undercity. Sylvanas had disappeared, her bow hand under Varimathras's decapitated head.
The Alliance had finally done it. Silverpine was wartorn, but the Alliance had given too much of it's resources to that battle. And now the Horde marched as one.... to Stormwind.
Scouts were spotted and executed. Overlord Saufang rode his Black War Wolf, a sash of deep red marking the mourning of passing leaders across his chest.
"Warriors of the Horde.... Today, we march on the very heart of the Alliance. Today, we will find retribution for what they have done. By the end of today, their city will lie in ruins!"
The warriors roared their fury, but Slyph stayed silent. It was their way. He understood that.
The alliance fought well. Superior numbers, again, even though they had lost their main force at Silverpine. But the Horde were incensed. Spurred by the memory of their leaders, they cut a bloody swath through the city. Great catapults took down the wall, their General died screaming as he was cut down by rogues.
A mass of green, brown, blue and black flowed through the walls, taking no prisoners. Blood flowed through the stone streets, and fires sprouted up throughout the houses.
The Cathedral was next. The Archbishop was found meditating, and he smiled serenely as he fought valiantly. "All I am is for the Light," he was reported to murmur as the final blow was struck. The more depraved of the Forsaken took great joy in defacing the cathedral, breaking windows, and eventually setting it aflame.
The Keep was next, and it was not long in falling. The sight of their beloved Cathedral in flames, and the rage filled eyes of their enemies sent many of guards fleeing in terror. Still, no quarter was given for the cowards.
They soon came to the throne room. Highlord Bolvar Fordragon tried to usher the King into the a safe room.... but it was blocked by assassins. They grabbed the child, and disappeared with him back into the Ranks of the Horde. Prestor tried to flee, but the raiders captured her. She tried to morph into her draconic form, but even then she was torn apart before she could finish the transformation.
Bolvar stared at the hundreds of battle hungry Horde, and gave a wordless yell of one that is going to fight his last battle. He fought bravely, and died valiantly. His corpse was given the sacred rights of a Horde warrior, and left to his fallen city.
The Horde used Goldshire as it's camp, the houses fairly convenient. It was finally night, and Overlord Saurfang roared at the top of his lungs, "Vengeance has been secured, my brothers! While it was at great cost, we have done it. I salute you, brothers and sisters. Tomorrow, we head home to rest."
A great cheer rose up from the camp. Preists moved on to tend the wounded....
Slyph, however, he was still in the middle of the burning ruins of Stormwind. He studied the bloodied streets, the hundreds of corpses in the trade district. Icerage was held in his right hand, singing comforting whispers to him. It was almost time, he knew it.
A troll, one he knew, came up to him. "'ey mon. We done good, keelled alla them fo' the 'orde. 'y dun ya come down ta da camp, get outta this ooman citay. Get some food, an' we count our kills ta see who came out on top, eh?" The troll grinned, and placed a hand on Slyph's shoulder. Slyph chuckled mithlessly. "Friend... you should run while you can."
" an' 'y's that?" the troll cackled, not catching the seriousness behind Slyph's words. A sudden movement caught the troll's eye.... a corpse twitched. "The 'ell....?" The trolls eyes widened as he saw hundreds of zombies shambling down the streets, along with their necromancer masters. Black Zeppelins appeared in the moonlit night, abominations and ghouls dropped harmlessly to the stone floor.
"Because... it's the end." Slyph spun quickly, slashing at the troll. Some emotion, some sense of kinship stopped him from killing him outright. But the troll ran, ran to wake up the rest of the Horde.
You should have killed him, you know. rang a voice deep as middle of the ocean. "I know. But.... it is inevitable, his end," replied Slyph, out loud. A few necromancers came up to Slyph. One spoke, "Your orders, Death Knight?"
Slyph looked down at the Necromancer, and the moon seemed to make the death's head grin of Slyph's skull grow even wider. "Kill them. Kill them all. For the glory of the Scourge." The necromancer nodded, and the thousands of the dead marched toward the camp. Reduced as their numbers were from the previous battle, and the numbers of the Scourge bolstered further by the dead in Stormwind..... the remainder of the Horde army was annihilated.
Slyph watched the bloody slaughter, and saw his friends rise up to join the scourge, their spirits bound to the Lich King for eternity. "Now do you see? Now..... do you hear?
Slyph closed his eyes, enthralled by the eternal chorus of spirits from the Scourge...