Also Blizzard evidently agrees with me, in that despite their apparent weakness to heat Tuskarr traders can be found in both temperate Boralus and tropical Zandalar.
New Dominion (Warcraft)
- Thread starter Zam
- Start date
- What if? Fantasy Action
I was wondering if I should bring that up but I also always found it weird and I think you raise an excellent point about ways to deal with it, Chances are they are hanging on the ships mostly to tend to those as that is their area of expertise (They can fight but large-scale warfare like this is not really a thing for them) SO yeah, kudos.
I imagine Tuskarr also maybe deal with humans more, if only cos sporadically human fishers will dare to sail to Northrend for whale blubber and the like. Its not a close friendship or anything, but there's been some civil meetings. I would likely say the average Wolvar is the most diplomatic, while Drakkari default to stern discipline cos they are on the clock, but that would vary based on person to person.
Happy to be of service!
@Zam Just a little question about Chronology (For the purpose of setting my Omake-Character's age), are we treating the Lore-wise timescale of the Second War and warcraft history as accurate? And if so, How long after the Second War's end is this story set?
I'm just asking because I've always found it a bit incongruous that a continent-spanning war between two relatively enormous armies only lasted a single year, and because I want to get a sense of how raw/deep the mental wounds and physical scars of past trauma for my planned paladin would be.
I've got her set currently as a 27 year old veteran, and how long she has been a paladin as opposed to a knight/cleric will be very dependent on timescales. because after doing some research it seems that 'Paladins' as a solid concept have only existed in the alliance for 1 year as-of the 2nd war's end. Which just feels weird considering how utterly normalised and ubiquitous amongst the Alliance they seem to be only a decade or so later.
Though given the word 'paladin' exists and is associated, there are probably instances of zealous and light-driven warriors before Uther codified and laid down his foundations for a more cohesive order.
Most of my consideration around this is figuring out what her title will be, and how different she might think herself from any other cleric.
I'm just asking because I've always found it a bit incongruous that a continent-spanning war between two relatively enormous armies only lasted a single year, and because I want to get a sense of how raw/deep the mental wounds and physical scars of past trauma for my planned paladin would be.
I've got her set currently as a 27 year old veteran, and how long she has been a paladin as opposed to a knight/cleric will be very dependent on timescales. because after doing some research it seems that 'Paladins' as a solid concept have only existed in the alliance for 1 year as-of the 2nd war's end. Which just feels weird considering how utterly normalised and ubiquitous amongst the Alliance they seem to be only a decade or so later.
Though given the word 'paladin' exists and is associated, there are probably instances of zealous and light-driven warriors before Uther codified and laid down his foundations for a more cohesive order.
Most of my consideration around this is figuring out what her title will be, and how different she might think herself from any other cleric.
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I confess I have been keeping that vague because WOW's timeline makes no sense. Like the death of Thrall's parents and his birth/discovery doesn't seem to line up at all with when northern humans would know of orcs, or even be there, or line up with what Gul'Dan was doing and so on.
Broadly speaking the war was about 17 years ago, and due to Ogrim's not ideal commanding as well as internal treason, it was a faster war than you'd expect, but probably took say, three years or so?
Idle aside, but Lord of the Clans implied women weren't allowed to serve in the military (Outside of the elves) during the Second War; I don't hate or like this, but I would say there's probably a pretty heavy bias against it, especially at the time if that helps. (The one woman veteran we saw had to disguise herself as a boy and when discovered got sent to the front over and over again with hopes she'd die, but she just got more vicious)
Also yeah Paladins are a bit weird, they weren't in the First War, so I guess like the Death Knights the game felt the need to make an origin for them and that was how comparatively defenseless the clerics in the Frist War were, leading to those with military training being boosted, equipped and trained. But I can definitely see Paladins having been a sort of 'thing' before then, but usually knights, or strong clerics or just sort of weird exceptions, with the Second War being something that turned them from a loose concept into an actual order with systems and training.
serra2
Himouto! Sylvanas-chan
From what I remember from Chronicles, pre-First War Priests tended to be less martial because it was not necessary. Everyone, even Trolls, recognized priests as someone you didn't target, as they tended to be neutral and willing to heal any wounded after the battle. Orcs simply did not care, and even learned to target the priests to cripple recovery for enemy forces. So post-First War, there was more of a focus on the need for an actual combat healer who could go toe-to-toe with Orcs and the like.
Oh snap I thought that was just headcanon on my part, neat that is actually a cool idea and works well, granted I think given some of the powers priests can have its not perfect, but overall it works well and makes sense, and I like there being an implied civility to war that pretty much everyone acknowledged pre Horde.
This also makes Sally Whitemane hanging around later make more sense, even if she is kind of a combat priestess in canon, he default is healing so she'd not be deemed an auto target and it makes the paladin hiding as a regular healer quite believable, thanks for sharing!
I'll set my Omake MC as a 36 year-old then, setting her as a woman who began serving at 19 during the war's breakout. Initially as a squire for one of Uther's holy knights, though she was training as a priestess who was not intended to see combat.
Her military training and access to arms+armour would have only been due to her noble lineage and status as a squire. Then her master died, forcing her into the fight she did not wish for.
From there she would see some of the most vicious fighting of the war, concentrating upon her connection to the light and her gifts as a healer above most other things. Then for the next 14 years after war's end she would settle into place as a healer and a guardian.
It might even explain her absence from the registries of warriors and paladins -that the trolls might check when searching for combatants- if the MC is essentially semi-retired and is only listed in her capacity as a healer (Paladin-Hospitalier?) within the Order.
Would it be fair to have her appear as younger than she is? Maybe only seeming 26 as opposed to her true age of 36, due to the rejuvenating power of the light?
I do seem to recall that humans infused with magic have longer life-spans, which prompted that question.
Both of these comments make more sense out of the sudden introduction of paladins! Ty ^..^
This all sounds solid, believable and workable and yeah I think you can make her appear younger if you wish, the exact lore on that is vague and seems mostly to be used to keep lady characters looking "appealing" while men like Uther get to 'age gracefully', but its definitely a thing.
I'm going for the contrast between a still-youthful face and her battle-scar's craggy crevasse, with the story of war-trauma told by lines of stress and an axe-bite taken from her jawline. Long since healed so that she can eat and speak, though her chin and neck remain marred by faded silver-black streaks left by fel-corruption.
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Ko-Fi Art - Frost King Malakk
Nicu Nice!
Thanks for the support and no worries on that front (Unless like a meteor hits or something) as it is I should be updating once a week
(Glances at date)
So expect an update in two or so days!
Wait shit
Frantically calls off the meteorite strike.
I'll wait another year for my revenge on Blizzard.
The Invasion of Rohk'aka Part 4 The Duel of Frost and Light Part 2
The Invasion of Rohk'aka Part 4
The Duel of Frost and Light Part 2
The Duel of Frost and Light Part 2
With the intent to battle declared, all that was to be done was make ready.
Bat riders cavorted in the sky, eyeing their rivals in the distance with keen eyes.
Guards lined the streets of the city, eyes to the North and South horizons, awaiting reinforcements or anticipating the battle that was to come. While merchants and peasants sat quietly within their homes, waiting.
Upon the fields cannons and spear launchers were made ready in trenches, while new formations were arrayed. Rhino Riders were accompanied by a Shaman each as well as packs of Raptors; the legions of War-bands regimented behind their line breakers while mighty mammoth brought up the rear.
But no attack came.
No call to march was sounded.
& The silence was growing deafening.
Malakk pulled a spyglass from his face and scoffed, "Now of all times for these humans to trust our better nature so inconvenient."
Hala-Zhi gave him a look and Malakk passed them the spyglass, answering her unspoken question as he did so.
"He now trusts me not to harm his precious people and is satisfied to wait us out, or at least to await reinforcement. But he does not trust me enough to have simply made camp." Malakk was not a master of war to the degree of some of his advisors, but that much was obvious. If anything, Uther likely intended to advertise his intent to make a point.
Hala-Zhi, let out a low, rumbling hiss, "They have arrayed their front lines for battle but raised defensive barriers; the Lightbringer means to keep us penned for slaughter. Even with our preparations, this will be a bloody battle."
Malakk nodded, bitter and brutal as the Amani's advice could be, they'd proven an able advisor since the initial treaty for material and logistical support had been struck.
'This would be a convenient time to have Zul'jin's army march in and strike Uther's from behind no?' Malakk mused.
Sadly, or perhaps not, and despite friendship declared between their empires, Malakk had not requested direct military aid, nor Zul'jin offered it.
He could only speculate as to the Forest Trolls motives, but for his own, it was simply a matter of not knowing if he needed them & not wanting to be tied down by local politics and history unless strictly necessary. Things like who owed who land or which capital should be struck first and the like could grind a well run campaign to a halt.
'Still, that does not mean Zul'jin will not take advantage of the chaos, or maybe wait it out?' He was drawn back from his musings when Moorabi clicked his tongue and spoke.
"He will likely shuffle in new lines of every few hours I am thinking, to keep his forces fresh."
Hala'Zhi nodded, "Even if this scheme with the shamans works, the Lightbringer has Paladins at the head of every knight-pack, and their mounts are a different, unholy breed. The enemy will not fall into chaos easily now."
"Fighting an army is one thing, but this entire Alliance at once, and from this position? It would be madness," Moorabi murmured.
"Aye, I would rather take them apart piecemeal, rather than be backed up against a wall as they gather their forces." Malakk smirked as Seer Ix'it's marched to join them, eyes aglow, "But he has not taken everything into account, for, how could he?"
"How is the front?" Uther asked, not looking up from the map table as Mehlar approached and saluted.
"The soldiers are holding firm my lord, the trolls have shuffled around their lines but seem largely dug in," he reported swiftly.
"I see," Uther tapped the map and pushed himself up, frowning he said, "those trenches remain a concern, but our mages and mortar teams should be a match for their artillery."
"Indeed, a fairly clever trick I must concede; it seems the earth spirits trolls revere have more potency to them than usual," Mehlar added.
"How's morale?"
At that Mehlar frowned, "I may not be the best persons to ask, but I am under the impression many dislike this plan, seeing our- their," he corrected, "Churches and homes occupied and being held back is… Vexing."
Ignoring his friends slip, Uther sighed, "I thought it would be, but I'll not go racing into the jaws of battle if there is no pressing need. If we can wait them out more reinforcements will continue to filter in, and the capital will have more time to prepare…"
"I sense that something still troubles you, brother, speak to me," Mehlar whispered, almost but not quite reaching for him before pulling back to attention.
Uther's frown did not abate even as he motioned for Mehlar to stand at his side and traced his finger along the battle lines. "The way he has arrayed his forces, the trenches, and locations he has claimed, all should paint Malakk as being on the defensive and a casual glance might hint as such and yet..."
Uther's finger traced a wide arch around the markings, "He's spread his lines wide, but with a smattering of packed platoons with line breakers at the head. He must know we will come to outnumber them in time, but the Drakkari lines show no hint if preparing for a siege."
Mehlar hummed in thought, "It looks as though he would intend to march upon us, but with so many of his forces in the mountains and church and ourselves positioned for a defensive clash… yes that is odd."
"Yes. Something… Is amiss…" Uther murmured.
As if summoned from the anxieties gnawing at his subconscious, a sorceress materialized before him, robes flickering in the wake of her arcane energies and voice sharp, "My lord, the Southern fields are ablaze in dragon flames and bottled fire!"
"Dragons!?" Mehlar gasped.
Uther's eyes were wide as the pieces fell into place with terrible finality.
"He had an advanced force waiting in the wings the entire time!" His gaze locked to the sorceress, "Do the flames advance upon us?"
"Yes, my lord, the rear-guard is trying to fight them but they are growing by the moment."
'He intends to force us to march upon him and straight into that cannon fire!'
The sounds of panic and shouts of "Smoke!" and "Fire" filled his ears as he raced out into the camp.
Grasping his holy tome, Uther felt the power of the light suffuse him, threw back his head and roared, "Remain calm!"
Gesturing sharply to his command staff, his orders booming across the glade.
"All mages who wield the frozen winds, sally forth South with the Wildhammer among us and two brigades clerics to hold back the fire! Mortar Teams and Paladins prepare to lay down suppressing fire and reinforce our barriers. Everyone else, ready for battle, they seek to drive us before them, but we shall hold fast and shatter them when they strike, for the Alliance, for Lordaeron and the Light!"
'Magnificent, if only he were one of mine,' Malakk thought as the Paladins orders were whispered into his ears by the winds, courtesy of a quartet of Shamans.
'Still, I cannot let him ruin all our good work,' he thought, fastening the triad of icy claws to his wrist and then drawing his twin axes, clashing them together, each strike letting loose a howling gale.
"Drakkari! My warriors, my champions! Heroes of Zul'Drak, this is our moment of truth!"
A rapturous chant rang out and the earth shook.
"Adopt the spear formations, break their barriers and drag them out into the open fields that we may settle this in one fell swoop, my friends, will you fight with me!?"
"Hail Frost King Malakk! We will fight to the ends of this world for you, for Zul'Drak and the Drakkari Empire!"
Malakk brandished his blades and cheered, "Then charge!"
Gal'Darah led the line breakers in a charge, Baku thundering beneath him, a Shaman pressed against his back as raptors ran alongside and warriors trailed behind. As they neared their foe, he roared.
"My kin, this is our moment of truth!"
As if in retort Gal'Darah heard the enemy commanders voice booming across the winds and echoed in his mind by the Loa
"Let the Lights Justice fall upon them!"
This proclamation was followed by golden hammers, blades and spears soaring into the sky to rain down upon their army.
'So, they heard of Saronite and seek to counter, clever, but do not underestimate the Word Priests of Zul'Drak!'
Runic stave in hand, Gal'Darah slashed discordant symbols through the air, his voice booming as a Rhino's, "Ra'Zen'Ba!"
The Word Priests followed his lead and runic barriers of shining emerald-black burst to life in the sky, dispersing the light with a flash.
Their spectacular act was answered with explosive booms as cannons joined the fray and Gal'Darah hissed, "Tight ranks, defenses high, do not falter!"
Unfamiliar words filled his ears as golden knights broke from the Alliance lines, "Strike down their leaders, cut down their giant beasts and break their charge!"
Eyes wide he bellowed, "Cast down their Knights, raptors feast upon them and defend the Frost King!"
The soldiers roar of affirmation was nearly drowned out by the crash of cannons and the growing stampede on both sides.
The clash of raptors and knights began, earth being kicked into the air as their handler's duck and wove through the onslaught when Gal'Darah hear his shaman finish their prayer, one among hundreds.
It was at that moment, when the knights were making for Malakk and clashing with with the line-breakers that their mounts, once steadfast as could be, tossed the warriors from their perch. Leaving only the Paladins still astride and torn between retreat, defending their fallen comrades or making some last ditch effort for Malakk.
Any cheers of jubilation on his side were cut short by Gal'Darah's bellowed order, "Run them down before they rally!" His blessed words ringing out over the sound raining steel as warriors raced to clash.
Malakk hooted as he saw the advancing knights charge overturned and struck low in a brilliant, blurred display of spells and steel.
Just as foretold, the Paladins held steady but with their bulwark broken, the Alliance raiding force was being made to rally rather than advance. 'We shall fall upon and encircle them!'
Guards and Gundraki Elite at his back he saw the hasty humans shield wall formed up at the center as a black clad elf drew a crimson blade and raced to meet him.
'Such spirit, but you are not my foe!'
Contorting around the elves' unicorn and mighty swing he caught the tip of their burning blade with his axes. It was only a moment, but it was long enough for Kutube'sa and Bith'Sa to deliver a vicious twin attack, that sent the paladins mount to the ground and the elf hurtling back into the lines.
In the distance Malakk could see Uther, could sense him, shining like a bon fire; the paladins presence alit the army and if he was to win, that light needed to be snuffed out.
Spell fire crashed down against the Alliance's barrier and rhino began to slam against the fields. Captured storms were let loose by Moorabi's Taunka and their fury released arcs of lightning across the enemy ranks.
It was too much, too many things all at once, the casters and priests were stretched too thin; rips and tears in the barriers materializing and forced ajar by his forces as the battle was truly joined.
"Do not yield, for the light!" The elf roared, drawing a roar from the soldiers.
'He held up well!' Malakk surged to the forefront and weaved around the spear that lanced out at him, slipping his grasp around it he spun, yanking the soldiers off his feet and sweeping the elf's legs out from under him.
Freeing the spear, he saw the shield wall advance and bellowed, "Scatter before me!" clashing his axes over one another and spiraling towards them like a tornado he heard the shrieks and shouts as their formation was shattered.
A few meter-wide break in the army greeted Malakk as he barreled forward, "Keep them off my back!" He barked, blurred slashes and swipes sending any that dared get to close flying in pieces as his elites swarmed through the gap and tore into their foes.
More soldiers swarmed him, "For the Lightbringer!" – "Protect Uther!" – "Don't let him through!" they roared, but no king would bate before the words of an enemy. Dancing and weaving around the strikes and spells, letting the worst glance off his frame with barely a scratch or burn.
Malakk crashed his blades together and cheered as the storm within howled. An explosive wave of swirling cold ripped through the army like a giants' blow until it bared down upon Uther and was met with a shout that let loose golden flames.
Air and light danced and writhed before extinguishing with a flash and a howl.
Malakk did not wait and leapt forward, bringing down his axes in a devastating strike that Uther met with not a moments weakness, hammer pulsing with light and veins of gold surging through his frame.
The strike let loose a snarling roar of force, any soldiers too close found themselves hurled back by the wild wave of ice-cold air and flaming gold.
"Stay back and hold fast warriors!" Uther bellowed.
"Leave him to me and do not falter!" Malakk shouted.
Another blur, another strike, and the air around them was split asunder, an explosive wave of raw force only they could withstand writhing around them as twin axes and war hammer crashed and slashed. Each warrior weaving and sidestepping around the others strikes with nary an inch to spare.
Malakk's body swelled, alchemical enhancements pumping through his veins while rippling flames of light burst from Uther's frame.
With a calamitous dual strike, the ground cratered and splintered beneath them; they met each other's gazes, eyes rippling with a burning intensity and energy.
"To think," Malakk grunted, pushing against the Paladin, "That you would find a way around our Saronite so quickly. Urk! & when I chose not to use it against you!"
Uther pushed back against him, forcing Malakk's feet to dig into the earth as the Paladins growled, "I needed to be ready for anything."
"Would that you would be my general!"
"My loyalty is to my king, in life and death!"
A bursting orb of light tore its way from Uther's skin and launched Malakk backwards, only a hasty wind barrier shielding him from the worst of it.
'His body is breaking apart!' Malakk realized, seeing golden blood leaking from Uther's vein, light fire spilling from his mouth as skin cracked and ripped asunder. 'Too much power, too sudden, if he only had more time before this...'
"Uther the Light Bringer, let us end this with honor and valor!" Malakk raised his axes high.
Uther drew his hammer back, readying for one last mighty swing, "Come at me then!"
Winds howled and light surged as they brought their weapons down in what was to be a legendary clash of frost and light.
But it was not to be.
Uther's hammer shattered the moment he struck Malakk's axes, the light a mere figment of the true power infused to the shaft, turned staff that slipped beneath the twin axes and stole them from the Frost King's grip, dragging the troll from his stance.
Malakk barely rounded on his foe in time to see the blow coming.
Uther's Light infused stave ripped through his blessed armored and enhanced skin, burning a hole right in the Frost King's gut.
Malakk's left hand lashed out too fast to see and with a blurred strike he drove three ice-claws into Uther's chest, the frost washing over his body as a tidal wave did the coast.
"For… Lordaeron," Uther whispered, the light leaving his eyes and flowing into the staff.
'He's going to burn me from the inside out!'
Malakk grasped the Saronite jewel adorned to his battle-kilt and spat, "Ket'Zun"
The light inside him erupted at that very moment, ripping its way out of his core in a burning array of gold; the flames path barely held back from splitting him in two.
Malakk's hands fell over the monstrous wound on his side, legs quaking he collapsed to his knees, burnt and torn organs straining to escape as he heaved out a cackle, "You canny bastard! You almost got me!"
Blood spewed from his maw and drenched his fangs; the Alliance warriors howled in anguish, stampeding towards him.
Malakk's vision was engulfed in a flash of crimson as Kutube'sa burst onto the field in a whirlwind of flame. The air cracked and shrieked as Bith'sa summoned a wall of ice around them and his guards fell in at his front.
"Good," he gasped, staggering to his feet, blood pumping in his ears yet somehow dim, "Push forward with me."
Each shot a hand before Malakk as his soldiers raced to pushed back against the Alliance soldiers maddened assault upon their barricade.
"Please sire, tend to your wounds," Bith'sa said.
"We will take it from here!" Kutube'sa swore.
"You expect your king to break from the front?" He wanted to shout but it hurt too much, something more inside him might tear.
"The champion is dead, their morale broken," they pronounced, "Allow us to take the lead!"
"For we!" The flashed their weapons proudly, "Are the ones you chose to champion you!"
Rolling back on his heels and swallowing blood, Malakk grinned, "Fight well and win honor," he ordered, stepping back into the growing throng of his own soldiers, and letting Ix'it's claws grab and whisk him away,
His last sight of that battlefield was of the ice turning to steam.
The last sound was a united cry.
"For Frost King Malakk!"
________________________
NOTES:
Hey again, sorry this update was a bit late, its been a hellish week and a half but I think things are finally calming down.
This chapter was one of the few early scenes I had a very strong picture of when coming up with this story, so I hope it worked out. I really wanted to give Uther a respectful send off, so I hope that worked as intended.
Also huzzah, those dragons I set up like 6 chapters ago are finally here! Also I hope I managed to both capture the chaos of battle without loosing too much in comprehensibility.
I have mixed but largely (vast majority) positive feelings on the update! Yet I'll refrain from commenting further until I have re-read, properly digested and then marshalled my thoughts.
That's fair, I expected this to be a contentious chapter, and I appreciate all feedback and your general consideration.
So I thought it might be fun to layout and discuss some of my intents and desires pay offs to the recent chapters and the world building that informed them.
One of the main things was to try and communicate the tension between the majority human forces and Uther's right hand, Mehlar, born out of pre-existing issues now exacerbated by the initial assumption Quel'Thalas just 'let' trolls through. He's also very much torn between two worlds.
Another thing I am trying to convey in general is a sort of... Chaotic competence? No that's not the right word. Basically, I am trying to write a war in which people make realistic mistakes, or perfectly rational decisions that just don't pay off.
The Drakkari assuming the Alliance has wards against Shamanistic magic is one of these mistakes because hey, they do, the Nerubians do, everyone on Northrend does. But the Alliance hasn't had o deal with Shamans like this or in this number for centuries, so those just aren't a thing these days.
Another example would be Uther's strategy against Malakk.
He knows the gist of Saronite and so knows fighting him in the traditional manner is just asking for trouble and so does something dangerously experimental to serve as a counter. This was actually a smart thing to do because if Malakk had come at him with Zerrat he'd have lost. Hard. But Malakk chose his elemental axes due to liking Uther, and thus Uther's advantage turned into a handicap. Even then, if not for trollish regeneration & a pre-packaged spell Malakk would have died with no chance of resurrection, unlike Uther who might have come back if things went a bit differently.
Another aspect I am trying to convey is that the Alliance is in a state of transition with its armies. This is rooted in an older headcanon I've shared before that can be found here.
The general gist of it though is that I think prior to WOW, most Alliance states did not have standing armies, but 'orders' IE Silver Hand, Knights, some mages, and the rest of the army was filled out by noble vassal raising a host and contributing their own retainers. This is rooted in the language surrounding the Second War's preparation, as well as the fact in WC3 we have the Regional Defenders in place of say, Lordaeron/Alliance army.
In this regard, Teranas and his allies are trying to move to a standing army format, hence the transition, and have done so with the standing fleet, but the process with the army is much slower, hence only getting as far as regional defenders. This is also why Arthas in canon rallied random citizens to his cause but had access to a pre-made fleet, and why Uther, (Who had to race out here) was utilizing Regional Defenders and whatever volunteers he could curry on short notice.
None of this is helped war wise by the invasion being a surprise and also done in winter, when very few factions engage in any warfare, cos its usually slower and more costly; nor by the fact Lordaeron is still stricken with the canon issues the Cult of the Damned exploited, though that hasn't come up as much yet.
Anyway I hope that proved engaging, any feedback is most welcome!
One of the main things was to try and communicate the tension between the majority human forces and Uther's right hand, Mehlar, born out of pre-existing issues now exacerbated by the initial assumption Quel'Thalas just 'let' trolls through. He's also very much torn between two worlds.
Another thing I am trying to convey in general is a sort of... Chaotic competence? No that's not the right word. Basically, I am trying to write a war in which people make realistic mistakes, or perfectly rational decisions that just don't pay off.
The Drakkari assuming the Alliance has wards against Shamanistic magic is one of these mistakes because hey, they do, the Nerubians do, everyone on Northrend does. But the Alliance hasn't had o deal with Shamans like this or in this number for centuries, so those just aren't a thing these days.
Another example would be Uther's strategy against Malakk.
He knows the gist of Saronite and so knows fighting him in the traditional manner is just asking for trouble and so does something dangerously experimental to serve as a counter. This was actually a smart thing to do because if Malakk had come at him with Zerrat he'd have lost. Hard. But Malakk chose his elemental axes due to liking Uther, and thus Uther's advantage turned into a handicap. Even then, if not for trollish regeneration & a pre-packaged spell Malakk would have died with no chance of resurrection, unlike Uther who might have come back if things went a bit differently.
Another aspect I am trying to convey is that the Alliance is in a state of transition with its armies. This is rooted in an older headcanon I've shared before that can be found here.
The general gist of it though is that I think prior to WOW, most Alliance states did not have standing armies, but 'orders' IE Silver Hand, Knights, some mages, and the rest of the army was filled out by noble vassal raising a host and contributing their own retainers. This is rooted in the language surrounding the Second War's preparation, as well as the fact in WC3 we have the Regional Defenders in place of say, Lordaeron/Alliance army.
In this regard, Teranas and his allies are trying to move to a standing army format, hence the transition, and have done so with the standing fleet, but the process with the army is much slower, hence only getting as far as regional defenders. This is also why Arthas in canon rallied random citizens to his cause but had access to a pre-made fleet, and why Uther, (Who had to race out here) was utilizing Regional Defenders and whatever volunteers he could curry on short notice.
None of this is helped war wise by the invasion being a surprise and also done in winter, when very few factions engage in any warfare, cos its usually slower and more costly; nor by the fact Lordaeron is still stricken with the canon issues the Cult of the Damned exploited, though that hasn't come up as much yet.
Anyway I hope that proved engaging, any feedback is most welcome!
The Invasion of Rohk'aka Part 4 (Kings Clash - Part 1)
The Invasion of Rohk'aka Part 4
(Kings Clash - Part 1)
(Kings Clash - Part 1)
How had this happened?
Why had this come to pass?
And what was he to do about it?
Such questions had bombarded his mind ever since a tidal wave of smoke had spilled over the land and suffused even the capital with the stench of burnt grass and ash. The cities barriers repelled the remnant smog, but it was an ill omen to be sure.
Terenas Menethil stilled himself on the way to the war hall and took a breath, 'I need my wits about me if I am to win this war,' he told himself.
A frown marred his features as he resumed his march, 'Yes, this is a war now, or more, it was when this began and we simply failed to realize it.'
It should not have been.
Common knowledge would tell one this was simply some jumped up Amani who got too confident thanks to some new magical trickery or a powerful weapon.
'Uther, oh Uther you suspected this could be more but even then could not tolerate leaving the people at the mercy of this old foe.'
Trolls had more decorum than Orcs. But enough that one could leave settlements, let alone a holy site in their hands while awaiting the might of the Alliance, or even just that of Lordaeron? Hardly.
His steps grew heavier and his brow furrowed at that thought.
'The Regional Defenders... I never should have allowed the nobles to badger me down to just that reserve force in place of a standing army!'
It had been an ongoing battle, the joint fleet of Lordaeron and the Alliance had been won. But the lords and ladies would not tolerate an army akin to that forged in the days of the Second War to be maintained every year hence.
'Yes the funds are a problem, one of many. But if we did not need to wait on every landed noble to raise a host we would not have sent Uther into battle with only Regional defenders and militia forces!'
When this war was won he would be changing that. Damn their eyes and their titles, the Silver Hand and knightly orders would back him to the hilt. And with allies like Ironforge and Stormwind doing much the same he could force the reformations through.
'But until then, we must wait for our allies to marshal their armies and raise our hosts, Light willing we have time before they reach the capital.' Teranas dared not think of the fate these invaders had in mind for he and his family, let alone the people if they had the confidence and worse, the power to assault the capital.
He came upon the ornate entryway to his war room and could hear heated discussion through the thick wood and stone. Steeling himself and etching fear for Uther and bitter musings from his mind as the guards pushed the doors open with a rush of air, King Teranas marched inside.
"Your majesty!" His gathered generals called out, Magroth, Halahk, Dagren and the newly appointed Garithos stood at attention around a map table. Alongside them representatives from Stomgarde, Dalaran, Kul'Tiras and Stormwind could be found.
"Gentlemen," he said crisply, taking his seat, "What were you discussing?"
Garithos puffed out his chest and spoke first, "We were merely debating the challenges of a winter campaign your grace."
Dagren_the_Orcslayer was frowning, so there was likely more to it than that but it was Halahk_the_Lifebringer who spoke next.
"As I recall you did not think this would be a winter campaign."
Garithos looked displeased, "I doubt these beasts have the wit or the numbers to make it such, but the considerations do you and Lord Dagren credit."
Teranas steepled his fingers and sighed, "Yes winter wars are always the worst. Under other circumstances I might say this would still be to our advantage." Lordaeron was the breadbasket of the north after all. "But with the difficult years we have had if this was drags on it shall prove harmful indeed."
Magroth_the_Defender bowed, "If I may speak my liege?"
Teranas waved him on and watched with tired eyes but a sharp mind.
"If the information we have received thus far is to be believed, then I imagine that was very much these trolls, these 'Drakari's' intent. And that we should comport ourselves as though our enemy is more accustomed and prepared for such battles than we."
Dagren was frowning again, "Which begs the question of where their supply chains would come into this. If we can break it then this war is won."
Garithos snorted, "Or they will simply take from the lands they raid and pillage to sustain themselves, though they may be a might bit smarter than the orcs about it."
Halahk touched his missing eye, "Perhaps, but we should not presume too much so soon, this is a new enemy in many ways. I would wish for the Wildhammer to serve as scouts for us but..."
Teranas motioned for silence, "They were scarcely members of the Alliance even before Quel'Thalas and Gilneas left us."
He studiously ignored Garithos's sneer and the fact he still had a high elf flittering about the castle in diplomatic quarters. "But do not forget we have our Arial reserve force as well as the commissioned Wildhammer squads. Less than the armies of Aerie Peak they may be, they compensate for small numbers with honor and skill that eclipses their kin."
And more to the point it was what they had, another matter to address when this war was over, a large standing army and areal force. Be it for the Alliance as a whole or simply Lordaeron, he would not allow his nation to be taken by surprise again.
'Think on the plans and costs later, focus,' he reminded himself, returning to the matter at hand. Dagren motioned to speak and Teranas waved him on.
"In other words, we have what we have and we must make the best of it," Murmured the bearded man, armored hand rubbing his chin. "We have won wars under far more dire circumstances than this after all. Still, I would recommend withdrawing any and all available forces to the capital and brace for a siege while the nobles and our allies make ready and march on the enemy."
Magroth was the next to speak up, "What of the outer villages that may be targeted in the capitals place? If this is to be our plane we must send out forces to escort the civilians to the capital, lest they be washed over by the enemy."
The Dalaran representative raised his hand, "Your grace, would it perhaps be wise to evacuate you and your family to Dalaran proper?"
"I will not flee before an enemy is even at the gates, that would hardly inspire confidence in my people," He rubbed his chin, "Still. see what you can have made ready a means to evacuate as many civilians as possible should matters take a turn for the worst."
There were old catacombs that had once served such purposes, but with the growing potency of magic they seemed ever and ever less necessary.
"If we are sending out soldiers," Garithos mused with a speculative gleam, "Maybe we can have them lay some traps while they are at it?"
"Let us determine what we can do to best prepare first," Terenas cut in, "And give thought to how we might play it to our advantage only after a broad strategy is agreed on."
"Yes your majesty," the room intoned.
Teranas knew this would be a long night, but he had little choice but to work now and see what the morning brought.
'Wherever you are Uther, I pray you are safe.'
After Uther's fall the battle had quickly devolved into a route.
Paladins, Mages and more experienced soldiers had tried to hold firm, be it to evacuate who they could or fight to the last. But when Great Mother Arctikus led a surprise force down the slopes to strike them from the Western flank it had been the final blow.
A captive known as Mehlar had tried to rally the soldiers, fighting valiantly all the while. But too few had heeded him before the inexperienced or ill-prepared fell into chaos or broke ranks and tried fleeing East to escape the flames and fighters.
The tone in the town, and even more the monastery was unsurprisingly dispirited at best and quietly horrified at worst.
Meanwhile the camps surrounding them could only be described as jubilant, with Drakkari celebrating their victory.
Some had even let victory run away with them.
Malakk had been forced to discipline more than a few soldiers for drunk and disorderly behavior thanks to acquired wine, for which the tavern had been reimbursed. Another had been executed by Moorabi for disgraceful conduct and his companions banished to the periphery for not reporting it.
Now those on disciplinary work or there by necessity were at the remains of the battlefield, quashing the lingering fires with the words of shamans, water spirits and alchemic droughts.
The Frost King himself was in the camps heart, on his mobile throne before a map of the battlefield and his slowly gathering council.
He sat rigid in his throne, shaped and hewn from stone to seat him perfectly as it was, he could almost be called comfortable.
Save for the agony running through his right side.
Malakk took in a low, shallow breath, right arm frustratingly delicate as he clutched his throne and ground out a question to Slad'Ran, who was inspecting his side.
"How long before I can fight again?" The pain was fading again, but that had little to do with healing and everything to do with his medicine and magic.
The snake Prophet hissed disinterestedly, "You could fight now, but you would lose quickly. Lest it a competition to see whose organs shred themselves first."
"Comical," Malakk grunted.
Slad'ran's gaze remained critical, "You would recover faster if you laid down and consented to another trance."
"There is a fine line between due care and looking weak, I'll stomach the time wasted to remain awake and aware. Now how long?" Besides, as accepted as his rule had become, Malakk could never rule out betrayal and a painful last stand looked better than murdered in his sleep.
Standing at his full height and only just meeting Malakk's gaze when he was seated, the reptilian prophet answered, "This wound is complex. A blend of accursed powers, holy magic and their strange Light. The Saronite energies and light respond to each other poorly, as you saw, a fascinating development I wish to research at the temple if you grant me the time."
Seeing his brow furrowing the prophet clicked his tongue, "I would say a week before you return to what could be called full strength. However, you can move around now so long as you tread lightly."
He tilted his head to the side and blinked slowly, "But please try not to rip open your stomach again, the Loa and gods can only do so much for one determined to die in battle."
Malakk scoffed, 'One would think the divine would be more useful…' Shaking the irritated thought off and answering, "Thank you prophet, I will endeavor to be more cautious when dueling the Alliance's champions."
His attention was drawn to a red and gold robed scholar bearing a scroll and a pleased expression, "Word from the fleet, Frost King Malakk!"
"Hooktusk finally reporting in then? I was beginning to think she'd wondered off course," Malakk said lazily, even as he beckoned the blue haired youth forward.
The tan messenger bowed and unfurled the scroll, "The Navarch writes that she has toured the northern coast of Trisfal and found little resistance. They did not suspect our coming and could not arm themselves in time. She assured that all coastal towers and forts have been reduced to rubble, as have any naval vessels."
"That could not have lasted though I assume?" Malakk asked.
"You are indeed correct Frost King Malakk, they have been encountering growing resistance the farther they travel. But with North-Port lost their fleet struggles to match our own, especially against Malakk's Might," The messenger beamed. "She writes will round the Western Mountains and will begin strafing Silverpine… Though, she believes the Shadowglen have taken initiative and begun launching their own attacks."
"Hmm, that could be a problem in days to come, but for now, if they wish to bloody our enemies it is not my duty to stop them. Still, I would advise her caution, the farther south she travels the close she comes to Kul'Tiras. Our last reports hint that while their navy took great harm in the Second War, it should have recovered enough to be a fierce force."
"Shall I send her those orders?" The scholar asked.
"She has those orders already, just be sure to stress that warning, we cannot risk overextending ourselves," Malakk said. Ears twitching, he heard several familiar and unfamiliar footsteps, "Run along now, other matters demand your king's attention."
The tiny Drakkari saluted, "At your will, Frost King Malakk!"
Watching the half troll go, Malakk slowly turned his attention to his gathering advisors, and elite guards along with his chosen speaker for the monastery.
Dressed in light blue and golden robes, she was a pale woman, barely out of girlhood; with white hair, a severe expression and manner even in the face of warriors twice her size. That iron will and her taking up a sword to defend her fellows but showing the wisdom of when to sheath it had impressed Gal'Darah. So much so, for him to recommend her for the role Speaker for the Monastery, out of those who had survived the battle for the Paladins training site.
The fact she was already a notable priestess buoyed this decision.
Whitemane spoke first, her tone cold and clipped, "Why did you have me brought here?" She clutched her white and gold staff tightly eyeing his council and Malakk himself with the sort of wariness one would give a demon.
"The battle is over and there are fallen among your people who will need funerary rights," Malakk intoned. "Part of me thinks it cruel to ask this of you, but crueler still would be to insult the dead by disrespect." He motioned towards his elite guards who stepped forward, Kutube'sa holding Uther's hammer shaft and Bith'Sa the shattered remnants of the head.
"We salvaged these from the battlefield along with the Lightbringers body, Frost King."
Whitemane gasped, a sliver of a crack in her austere manner, "Then he is truly lost?" The words escaping her like a thought more than spoken.
"Yes, Uther the Lightbringer has fallen, though his bravery should and skill should be recorded in song. For now, I called you here hoping you would know his desired last rites, or of how such a man is to be honored in your customs?" Malakk asked, motioning for her to speak.
Whitemane bit back a scowl her gaze suspicious, "Why would you ask of that?"
Malakk repressed a sigh and resisted the urge to sink into his chair, it was a fair question, and doing so would hurt regardless.
Sucking in a breath and internally wincing at the way his lungs burned Malakk said, "He was a brave, noble and canny foe. We may have been enemies, but I would see to it his valor is commemorated." He held her gaze for a moment and added, "There is still to be dignity in dying, even in war like this one."
Her expression belied the uncertainty that seemed to radiate from her very essence before it was locked away behind a wall of steel and she spoke. "I would need to consult our archives for his desired… Rites, but traditionally a tomb would be expected at the very least."
"It will be done then, as before I am comfortable leaving this in your hands if you prefer, but can have my own followers handle the matter."
Whitemane shook her head frantically, white hair flickering, "No, he was… He was one of ours. We should tend to him and his effects."
Malakk nodded, "I would hope to see his mighty hammer restored and used to mark his tomb, but I will leave the specifics in your hands priestess. Prophet Slad'Ran shall join you at the monastery, but may we speak on happier topics when next we meet."
The woman's face twitched ever so slightly as her mind evidently warred on how to regard him before she briefly crossed her stave over her chest and nodded, "I will see it done." Before turning and slowly striding away, her original escorts trailing in her wake at a respectful distance.
As Slad'Ran moved to follow, Malakk whispered, "Ensure nothing untoward comes from their treatment of his body, I want the strongest wards blaring endlessly. I may have respected him, but I am not fool enough to welcome my enemy's resurrection."
Slad'Ran bowed, "Wise words, I shall see to it personally."
Letting the Prophet go, Malakk leaned back against his throne and beckoned Gal'Darah, Hala'Zhi, Arctikus and Quetz'Lith forward, "You all comported yourselves well on the field. Gal'Darah you adapted to our foes movements with skill and speed."
Gal'Darah slammed his fist into the ground and bowed his head, "I thank you for giving me the chance to redeem my earlier failure. I swear on my life to carry this momentum forward."
Seeing the Grand Prophet rise, Malakk looked to Arctikus and Hala'Zhi nodding, "Your information has proven its worth time and again. Great Mother, the timing of your attack was impeccible and shattering their growing resolve. Hala'Zhi I must thank you for you collaboration with my Chieftains after my duel with the Lightbringer. Each among them commend your swift and fierce tactics."
The Frostmane leader bowed and answered, "I am honored to be of service, sire."
Hala'zhi saluted, "Your Gundraki Legions proved masterful warriors and their commanders wise, Frost King Malakk."
Finally, his gaze fell upon Quetz'Lith, "Your Dragoons are owed much for their splendid performance, your patience and timing in this war secured us this swift victory with so few losses." Hand over his heart, he whispered, "You have the gratitude of a king."
Saluting, the Sky Sovereign answered, "This one is pleased to have brought honor to Sky Legions. The Wildhammer proved fierce foes, but I am confident we shall be a match for them even when legions of them take to the sky."
"I am sure you will, though for now I must ask of the Nerubians among your number?"
Quetz'Lith nodded, fangs clacking together in a smirk, "They got away under the cover of smoke and night so far as I saw."
Malakk leaned back and let loose a small sigh that disguised a groan, "I hope they are as good as their word, but even then," he grimaced. "Even then marching on the capital as soon as we can is imperative. They are likely just learning of this defeat as we speak, and I'd not want them to garner any major reinforcements or escape my wrath."
Moorabi sauntered up and slapped his chest, "We are ready now, Frost King! Let us rally the Legions and sally forth, only a small garrison and some bat riders will be needed to hold this place."
There was an amused edge to his friends words that Malakk's head was too sore to place as he clicked he hummed. "To ensure a crushing victory we need more numbers. If we began a siege now, we would await reinforcements open and exposed, they could overwhelm or surround-"
His musing was interrupted by cheers echoing on the coast and the camp. His advisors were smirking and Malakk rose to hit feet with a subtle groan and was greeted by the marvelous sight of reinforcements fading into the view along the coastline.
Gal'Darah sauntered up to his side and chuckled, "You were in the healing trance when word came, and we thought you might enjoy a surprise."
Malakk's shoulders quaked and he steadied himself on his throne, "You are damn right I do." He cast a glance back at his advisors and bared his fangs.
"Rally the Legions, we march at dawn."
Teranas marched through the harried halls of his castle, his poise belying the horror and disquiet running through his mind as soldiers' voices rose high in the city streets.
Word of the battle had started to filter in mere hours ago and what few survivors had been able to make it to the capital via magic painted a grim picture indeed. The fact this news had been followed by scouts reporting a troll army marching on the capital as dawn broke had been just another blow amongst many.
His heart ached to know Uther had fallen, but sorrow was carved out to make room for shock and strategizing. Such a loss, such a sudden march and with only a handful of survivors?
'Either these trolls have scarcely stopped marching since the battle was done and wiped out any survivors. Or that the flames harried them so far from the capital that they could not make it back in time!' Either options foretold of the enemy's strength, though a part of Teranas prayed for the former, for while brutal and terrible it would at least mean they would be exhausted when they arrived at his gates.
'Just a week, maybe two and no army of this world shall be able to stand against the forces of the Alliance. We just have to holdfast,' He told himself as he strode into the palace libraries and furrowed his brow.
"What is happening? Why is my family still here?" Teranas asked, ignoring the babbling Quel'Dorei diplomat and focusing instead on the Violet Citadel's representative, an alleged master of teleportation and portals.
The tall man, with a violet eyed tabard and sharp helm, clutched his staff tightly and moved to speak, only for Arthas to try and barrel passed him.
"The mage cannot conjure a portal; I am going to the front!" he called.
"Stop him!" Teranas bellowed, and just at the last moment his escort sealed the door shut and the sound to Arthas's fist colliding with their chest plates rang out.
"Your prince demands you move! They killed Uther! We should all be fighting!!" He shrieked.
"My son, stop this," Teranas begged, Lianne appearing at his side as Calia went to her brother to try and sooth him only to nearly be slapped away.
"Why will you not let me fight?! Magroth, Halahk, Dagren, all of them fight to avenge Uther! You allow them to fulfil their oaths as Paladins, but you try and hide me away like a coward!"
"That is enough, Arthas, do not speak to your father so cruelly," Lianne said.
The boy barely even drew back, blazing blue eyes glaring at Teranas as though he had personally felled Uther.
"My… Arthas," he said, haltingly, "You are trained in the ways of a Paladin and mourn your mentor, but you are also a prince. If the enemy breaches these walls too soon we all may die here and with it our line will end, our nation will fall. You must survive more than any of us to fight on for Lordaeron, for Uther."
Arthas stilled, a gruesome frown adorning his usually soft features as he spat, "The mage cannot make his portal, I want to join the Circle_of_Holy_Light, or Crippling_Force and fight for my kingdom now."
Teranas's gaze snapped to the magus once again and he said, "Why is that ambassador? Your skills were said to be renowned."
The man bowed and said, "I can conjure a portal King Teranas, but there is… Interference. The enemy is disrupting the flow of energies between this place and Dalaran. I could not guarantee if any who stepped through the portal would arrive in Dalaran, or the middle of the ocean or even remain on this plane of existence, let alone survive."
"How many mages do you need to fix this?" He asked.
"Perhaps if we mount a great many mages working on separate portals one will be stable enough to use safely. But few among us possess the skills for such work and even if we did that would take forces away from the walls," he shrugged helplessly.
Lianne's hand rested on his shoulder as Teranas weighed his options, hands clammy as he sucked in a breath and whispered. "Take my elite guard, as well as any mages, students or noncombatants slated for evacuation. Use the old tunnel escape routes and try one of your portals at every stage, there must be a range to their spell."
"I shall at once your grace, do you wish to join me diplomat?" He asked the elven man who was frantically tapping his foot and looked ready to spit.
"I refuse to believe the trolls could muster such magic, try again"
"I will not, for I am confident stepping through the rift would kill you."
The elf sneered, "I-"
"Enough! Both of you, we have not the time for this!" Teranas bellowed.
He turned to face the doorway only to find it was now Arthas blocking his way and his escort looked at a loss. Standing in the way of their prince was one matter, physically moving him rather another.
"You want us to run like cowards!" He snapped petulantly.
Biting back a sigh, Teranas clasped his son's shoulders only to feel his hands slapped away.
"He wants you to live, Arthas," Lianne cut in, grasping at his balled fist as if to hold him by from another strike.
Calia watched them, wide eyed and wary, her voice gentle, "Arthas, please, father is trying to do what's right for the kingdom."
"He is-!"
"Your king and giving you an order, Paladin," Teranas stressed.
Arthas froze and Teranas pushed forward, gaze locked with his son's as he spoke sharply and swiftly, leaving him no room to think.
"You are being given an order not by your father but by your liege, that order is to accompany and escort the civilians from this city before it becomes a battlefield and if worst comes to worst, defend them with your life."
Seeing his son was not yet convinced Teranas rose to his full height and added with faux affability. "You do however have the choice to continue raging and instead be carried unconscious alongside them. Exhausting soldiers, slowing everyone down and being helpless should you be found. Make your choice."
Arthas looked ready to fume, to snap and scream, only to suddenly go very cold and mutter, "I want something more than my training hammer."
"You will have the hammer Uther intended to gift you when you took your oath, my guards shall escort you to it," Arthas looked at him starry eyed for a moment and Teranas waved him on, guards trialing out of the library at Arthas's side.
His guard captain lingered and Teranas signaled, 'You know what to do' to the man and watched him bow, before offering his hand to Callia who took it and they raced to follow Arthas.
As everyone within the library hastened from the room, he felt Lianne's hand come to rest on his back as she whispered, "You should be joining us, your children need their father, your nations its king."
He stepped away from her, head shaking, "A prince can survive without a palace or crown, he can reclaim them, but a king who flees his throne cannot. I may not be able to fight at the gates anymore, but I will not be driven from my home by these savages."
"Ter-."
"Go, the children will need their mother by their sides whatever is to come."
She looked ready to argue, when he said, "That was not a request, queen mother, go."
Stepping back, she curtsied and brushed his lips with a kiss before joining the last remnants of his honor guard and disappearing towards the chamber halls, while Teranas marched back to his throne room.
'I am just being cautious, the trolls have never shown such magics or numbers before, they cannot win here, not easily. We just need to hold out long enough for Saidan Dathrohan and the likes of Ballador_the_Bright and Sage_Truthbearer to arrive.'
He could only hope that more would come after that. Word had been sent to every noble house in the kingdom of the attack, but only Uther had thought to send for reinforcements. Duke_Falrevere, Lord_Agrovane, the Abbendis family, Riverdare and Barov's, all would hear of this, but they did not command military garrisons as the Silver Hand did. If they were to march, they would need to raise a host in the beginning days of winter and march.
Time was against them.
It was against them all.
Tuning out Garithos's thundering voice as he and the Paladin commanders readied the city for battle, he took his throne.
'But we just have to holdfast,' he told himself again.
NOTES:
So, a lot is happening this chapter, it actually went through substantial rewrites after some feedback on the last one to better try and contextualize what I am going for in terms decision making. Hence Teranas discussing the assumption this wasn't a 'real' invasion and Uther's hastily made up counterstrike force, as well as me delving into my HC about the WC3 Regional Defenders being the 'standing army' but only the size of a reserve force due to the nobility & also costs. Lordaeron grappling with monetary issues due to the Second War, Expedition to Outland and Internment Camps were issues the Scourge exploited after all and they won't vanish just because the Cult never formed.
I tried to give a distinct personality to each of Teranas's advisors, be it blending Garithos's prejudice and blustering manner with the at least somewhat shrewd general he logically had to be in order to lead so long and so successfully in WC3. As well as making Dagren the most long term thinking and ruthless (He did survive the fall and eventually went to Kul'Tiras after all), Meanwhile Mograth was the most noble and protective in reflection of his easy loyalty, ahile Halahk is the more temperamental as his dialogue suggests a lot of anger.
In the Malakk section I finally got to introduce Whitemane and show the fallout from the fight, Malakk's benched for awhile yet and the sudden strike from Arctikus's forces really rattled the already shaken army, and exacerbated many's fears because they were becoming surrounded. Also got to expand on the stuff I hinted at with Mahlor too, which was nice and hint at some plot developments, hehehe. Some people theorized something last chapter and they were very close but going in the opposite direction I hope it works XD
One thing I am really trying to sell here is that this war caught the Alliance flat footed, while the Drakkari have been preparing for years, however they are burning through their advantages extremely quickly in order to maintain momentum. You can only pull the "I actually had dragons waiting in the wings the entire time!" trick once after all. Anyway, thanks for reading and please share your thoughts!
A fairly good chapter, moving along towards the siege of Lordorean and whatever will become of the current King of the Alliance.
If I had one issue it would be the sheer and overwhelming apparent mastery which the Drakkari have displayed over disrupting enemy spellcasting and even interfering with portal-magic. Though I can understand that this is meant to represent the Drakkari's preparations along with the local spellcasters not expecting such things, I can't help but feel it a bit overplayed that Malakk and his shamans are so evidently and completely dominant in this field. The use of arcane spellcasters and the ruinous force-multipliers that they represent were amongst the only things which held the Alliance forces together against shaman, demon and necromancer alike during the 2nd war.
Though this is a minor concern as I'm sure it'll be addressed in coming updates.
Aside from that it was neat to see the Drakkari doubling down on their apparent nobility in the handling of both dead and conquered, though as the warfront moves south I'll be curious to see how the Drakkari handle occupying regions with cultures so alien to their own.
If I had one issue it would be the sheer and overwhelming apparent mastery which the Drakkari have displayed over disrupting enemy spellcasting and even interfering with portal-magic. Though I can understand that this is meant to represent the Drakkari's preparations along with the local spellcasters not expecting such things, I can't help but feel it a bit overplayed that Malakk and his shamans are so evidently and completely dominant in this field. The use of arcane spellcasters and the ruinous force-multipliers that they represent were amongst the only things which held the Alliance forces together against shaman, demon and necromancer alike during the 2nd war.
Though this is a minor concern as I'm sure it'll be addressed in coming updates.
Aside from that it was neat to see the Drakkari doubling down on their apparent nobility in the handling of both dead and conquered, though as the warfront moves south I'll be curious to see how the Drakkari handle occupying regions with cultures so alien to their own.
In particular I'd suspect there will be much grinding of teeth and tension between the orcs and humans of Lordorean, along with the doubtless attempts from lurking Stonemaul Ogres to claim chunks of the newly weakened territory. Along with the obvious religious and cultural differences between all groups present.
Thanks so much for the comment I really appreciate it
That's a fair take, I'll try to address these one at a time tough be it out of order.
- I didn't actually come up with the Shamanistic advantage left field, the Lord of the Clans book had Thrall make sport of the Alliance constantly via Shamanism and established the Alliance as both incredibly ignorant of the potential power to Shamanism or of how to fight it. In that regard I'm actually being a touch generous b saying Paladins and their mounts can no-sell it, but I wanted to avoid things feel too skewed and one sort of divine magic countering another feels natural, while the magic-less/divine-less soldiers lack such protections.
- Fair point on the arcane stuff, this one is hard to square I'll concede; as it stands its basically meant to be a case of 'Nerubians were meant to be great arcanists' and 'this is all very sudden and unexpected'. Like if they tried this on Dalaran it would fail because they have more than enough mages to counter it, but Lordaeron doesn't have many mages capable of portals and they're racing against the clock. Still, I can see your point, so I will mull on it, though there's only a certain amount I can change about the next chapter without having to totally rewrite the story XD
- That's an interesting point on the Second War mostly cos I do wonder about the usage of Troll Shamans in that. I think my best guess on why the Alliance remains ignorant on their potential despite that is that Ogrim wanted a full frontal campaign, while Zul'jin specialized in guerilla warfare. Thus, while his forces did help in some of the fighting, especially with ambush and raids or scouting, they were rarely in the front lines and thanks to Death Knights, wouldn't have been able to join the fighting much. Given the Horde's lack of healers, it also makes strategic sense to have the Shamans focus on that role while the DK do the magic fighting.
- Basically you are right that a lot of this is cos the Drakkari spent years prepping, but I'll note they are effectively burning through their advantages very quickly. One can only pull the "I have dragons behind you" thing once and its already done. Similarly, the Nerubian Arcanists are skilled and strong but they are like, one elite cadre, enough to be a syming problem in the portal network between Lordaeron and Dalaran on the Lordaeon end? Sure. Enough to say, force their way into Dalaran and kick ass? Hahaha, nope! Its basically about maximining the resources they have, the Drakkari have had years to determine their best strategy while the Alliance has no idea what to expect at this point.
I am heartened to hear that worked, its a tricky line to balance, so having some misbehave but also establishing a culture of chastisement or punishment for such behavior seemed like a workable solution. That is a food question and becomes a recurring element as the story goes on, to quite a degree though I can't say much more XD
(Chuckles evilly) OK as noted I can't say much, but yeah there's a lot going on there, cos you have the interned orcs, but also groups like the Warsong running around causing trouble and as you say, lots of ogres currently keeping to the backwoods, more than happy to take advantage of a distracted Alliance. Huh, you know that might be something I should explore even more on the Ogre front, I do have some stuff planned but could definitely do more with the Stonemaul as you suggest.
If nothing else comes of it I'd expect the Stonemaul to at least try to grab up some Orcs/Mok'nathal from the recently broken internment camps, as one of the biggest problems faced by the post-war Stonemaul was a lack of population and lack of holdings, even before their takeover and subjugation by the scourge.
Thinking on it, I think you mean the Crushridge as Sylvanas briefly enslaved them and they were in Lordaeron, while the Stonemaul clan are off in Kalimdor. I also think that Rexxar is the only Mok'nathal, though depending on what how things go for any orcs pulled from internment camps by ogres, that might change (shudders). Definitely an interesting premise regardless, as war is an ideal time for such groups to flourish.
The Crushridge ogre clan were formed from the remnants of the Stonemaul following their enslavement and use as shock-troops. The majority of surviving ogres headed off to find a new home in Kalimdor, while those remaining moved south to occupy the ruins of the fallen Alterac kingdom.
It's detailed at the top of the linked wowpedia page.
Crushridge
Rexxar is the most famous and last of the 'Mok'Nathal', which were an entire clan of half-ogres, they have always existed within any force of mixed orcs and ogres. Rare but present, as there were multiple mok'nathal (uncapitalized refers to the hybrid and not the clan) in the new horde by the time of Warcraft 3.
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