Building Momentum

Saiden was a man above showing weaknesses before others. Which was not to say he ignored or denied his fears, for only through confronting them could one grow.

But he was acutely aware of the fact a leader must remain composed and appear in control. Naturally, this meant he let none of his frustration or anxieties show.

Which was good for there was much to occupy his mind with, even as he distracted himself keeping order in the bustling war camp beneath the Western mountain line. Marshalling troops, overseeing healing stations, and joined the foray against the Trolls stout dragons to keep their raiders off their rear guard.

'Our march through the bulwark is stalled by that eyesore of a mobile fortress, but it is just stalled,' he reminded himself. 'Already Hearthglen sends us a new wave of soldiers Tirion should have the Barov's well in hand.'

It didn't feel like enough. Not with Orcs still roaming Eastweld and striking at Internment Camps and Amani marshalling raiding Tyr's Bay Lordaeron's reserves were stretched thin.

He took in a breath and began marching back to his tent, 'We shall not be stretched for long,' he assured himself. 'Dalaran shall be making ready, Thoras is days away, the Fleet just as close and a new wave of Tirasi soldiers and Stormwind Regulars are closer than than that!'

With such forces at his command, breaking the stalemate and plunging into Tirisfal would be simple. He could spare forces to reinforce the East and Dalaran would join them in a joint strike on the capital, specialized teams ferrying the royal family and other hostages to safety.

'And then, with their power broken, we shall liberate the Monastery and slowly but surely drive them from our shores. Securing this Land for the Light, for Lordaeron and the Alliance.'

He just needed to wait a little longer.

___________________________________________________________________

Upon the mountain path, just beneath Heartglenn, where the roads were long and winding, the hill tops hid winding paths and great valleys, a battle was taking place. The sounds of steel and spell ringing out and echoing across the stone, and reverberating across the land.

Yet, all these howls of cries were drown out by a single voice.

'To the war, to the war we march; fear not my friends, for I am here, and you'll have a blessing of glory never ending.'

Hala'Zhi,  War Priest and First Servant of the honored Ogoun, god of war and flames, iron and the hunt. Face painted in powdered bone and lined with shed blood, their staff spun, flames dancing at the tips. Each motion sharp and smooth, flowing into the next as they sang in their own tongue, but were understood by all.

'Know the whole world, shall speak our name. We stampede through all, chests out and strong.'

Mighty Zul'Rogg and his the Zeb'Antu bled out from the humble tree lines, axes, bow and spear in hand. A host of Dragonhawk Riders and War Eagles descending from on high, their Amani masters voices raised high in exultation and bloodlust.

Snarlmane the Bloodgorger, lived up to her name, the hulking Gnoll towered over her Redpine Pack and tore through the field of battle. Her maw dripping red, totemic axes in hand and cackling with a bound storm, the packs voices raised high in chorus.

One could almost hear the chants of Crushridge Clan, Crushridge Clan from the chants of warmongers and the chilling jeers of their mages booming. Their mighty lord, Mug'thol, savoring the humans strikes against his ringing shield and the sound of his blade cleaving steel.

'The fallen shall rise and with blood in hand, our enemy shall fear, the power we bring.'

But the humans fought, oh they fought, with cold steel and harsh prayers and fire that clung to fur and skin alike. Long since practiced in the arts of flaying these old foes, even the Ogres struggled against the locked shields and and blistering spells.

The cities gates had flown open as the battle grew heated and from its gates spilled canons and militia, in chain mail and bearing humble axes. Gryphons took to the sky, with lance and crossbow, Wildhammer steel leading the charge as as knights rose from fallen mounts.

Whispered names from gods far beyond echoed in the dancers mind, Lorik the High Protector who marshalled the Durgen, the Cavalier who held fast even as the battle had turned against him. And Radley, who marshalled the riflemen to the crevasses and barricade.

'Glory we'll find through battle and loss; fear not my friends, for I am here, and you'll have a blessing of glory never ending.'

Bodies and blood littered the battlefield, the dead and dying sharing the last comforts the welcoming Earth could provide. The battle turned against them, they who would be dubbed invaders but could just as easily say they were reclaimers.

Hala'Zhi raised their staff above their head, the spiraling motions giving way to cacophony of sound as the air rustled and writher. From the fallen and the dying, blood began to flow, blessed by the divine words and dance, it flowed into the air, swirling in mass.

The cavalier broke ranks, desperate to stop whatever he saw before it could crescendo, but he was too late. Blood faded, to reveal the iron beneath, each sharpened into a black blade that hung in the air by divine right.

'You'll have a blessing of glory never ending!'

A single motion sent the blades sailing through the air, each one striking true.

Through steel and spell, be it by chinks in the armor or a thinning membrane of mana, they plunged into their foes and so, it was that the tide of battle turned again.

Hala'Zhi, looked passed their foes, planted stave in the stone before them and began tp pray.

'You'll have a blessing of glory never ending.'

Priests and Shamans descended upon the field to breath life into those they could and empower those who fought on.

The gate remained open, and their army was ascending the mountain path to Hearthglenn.

'You'll have a blessing of glory never ending...'

___________________________________________________________________

The land of the Valley and high mountains were all gray and rocky, one could almost compare them to Zul'Drak save it being far barer. Still, the cold winds had driven swirls of snow under the clouded skies and Lauga, a well experienced trader and Speaker of the Rageclaw had found their time their affable. 

Now though, the little Wolvar was resting after days of careful and tense traversal down those arching slopes. The thin air and grey peaks of the high mountain valleys had long since given way to the more verdant slopes of the lower mountains. 

If Lauga were to step from the cave, the Wolvar would no doubt see again the grand, green valley that rested beneath 'Alterac'. Linking the lands of the Barovs, the Foothills and the Hinterlands. Marked only by a long, winding river and the remnants of an assuredly once magnificent structure of the Amani, now reduced to sharply cut foundations. 

'Explore later,' they thought, turning their full attention back to their compatriots in the smooth cut stone cavern and the conversation at hand. Gathered around them, through no small amount of labor and wordsmithing, were the leaders, or Speakers of nearly every Valley Dweller. 

"Nervousness wafts off you, have some Kudiri early if you need it," Giggled the low, but sharp tones of the infamous 'Champion' Frostbite. Mist slipping from her maw with every word

Perking up, a black furred Kobold, still in thick feathered clothes that favored mobility hissed, "Someone needs to worry, Wildpaw. Already we ready for a war we need not fight-" 

'Not good, this was resolved, no?' Lauga glanced at the hulking Korrak who rested at the back of the cavern. But the Dire troll did not deign to open his eyes as the Kobold continued.

"And the scouts are still away, if not dead," At that, 'Overseer' Sivvle glanced at the Harpy among them. 

In sharp contrast to the hearty leathers of the Winter Axe and Wildpaw, the nearly bone white Snowblind Harpy wore a regalia of enchanted metals. Light blue metals lined with gold, signs that Alterac's mineral wealth was not nearly depleted as the humans once thought. 

Opening those milky white eyes, the Harpy tilted her head and answered, "The daughters will return when they return." 

"If they have not been shot down like our scouting birds," Korrak finally rumbled. 

The harpy tittered sharply, claws clicking against stone, "Any Snowblind Ambusher could fare better than some enchanted game." 

Lauga chose that moment to pounce, "Concurring, the Snowblind suit the task, and," enchanted eyes shimmering in the low cave light and spied naught but stone and grass. "No sign of army approaching." 

Frostbite waved her paw, "See, it is good, humans could not find us if we pissed a trail for them. No," The silver furred Gnoll slashed her paw, "The real fear is the Orcs coming back before we're done." 

That drew an ominous rumble from the crowd, even the lingering guards and advisors seemed irked, hackles raised, feathers flared and tongues clicked. 

Lauga perked up, eager to please, "Pack-Leader Grimtooth and other Valley Leaders can repel Frostwolves." 

The Gnoll snapped her jaws together, "Frostwolves are a problem, an old one now, and with new friends maybe a bigger one but they are not the problem. 

Lauga did not like where this was going. 

Frostbite pressed on, "Hear tell that your king takes in orcs too, no? What if he takes in Frostwolves, do come before we?" 

'Winterax told her, but is this a test, or was I set up for fall!?' Claws tapping along stone, Lauga answered as best they could. "Only local orcs, few at that, Frostwolves rejected Speakers." 

"They did," Tuned in the High Mother of the Harpy, "But that can change, there are many orcs, more than us I am thinking."

A low shallow breath escaped Lauga, but they pressed on before Sivvle could add to the pressure. This is true, but precedent remains. This war began for Frostmane lands, think we would betray deals of honor on convenience?" 

Lauga shook their head, tail thumping against stone, "Voice of Frost King, chosen to speak his truth, Lauga's promises are his promises." 

Korrak chuckled, "You and yours have gone far for the Frostmane, that is true..." The troll's beady eyes squinted and his ears twitched.

A moment later, a harpy in simpler, lighter armors then their mother entered the cave, "Honored Mother Reine, we return with news."

Reine smiled, pointed fangs flashing in the dim cave, "Speak of what you and your sisters saw, tell us of the human armies." 

The scout bowed her head, before falling into a more lax stance, talon feet scuffing the magically shaped stone floor, as she unconsciously eyed Korrak's looming frame. 

"My sisters and I flew through cloud cover and high mountain peaks. We found the humans across the river, North East, straight flight." 

A talon-ed hand toyed with jeweled necklace that began to shimmer and shine as she passed it to the larger Harpy. "We sealed their reflection into this gem, so you can see their camp as we did." 

"Excellent," Reine murmured, holding it between dark nails, a thoughtful expression on her face, "Large but not so large." 

The scout pressed on as the opal was passed to Sivvle, "We were told to spy insignia and symbols, yes?" 

Korrak and Lauga nodded, the latter adding, "Human heraldries, can tell much." 

She nodded, "Mixed camp, green and blue tents, golden lions and hooked blades." 

"An anchor, like for a ship," Korrak rumbled, possibly the only one present besides Lauga who had seafaring experience. "That means Kul'Tiras and I think Stormwind, lions are their totems. 

The jewel was finally passed to Lauga who squinted at the pristine beauty. Like a snow globe polished to mirror shine, the reflections it captured shows camps of with two large green and blue tents and a host of smaller, paler fair. 

"More than us," Sivvle noted quickly. 

"We have the high ground," Countered Reine. 

"And," Korrak cut in ominously, "we have Bru'kan of the Elements," the thought of the aging, ferocious troll and his mighty twin axes of ice and snow sparked something in the gathered speaker. 

Lauga pounced on the silent moment, "Many mighty Whitewhisker Geomancer and Digger, with many more too."

"If they take the bait," Korrak noted carefully. 

Frostbite giggled, "If they don't, we harass and hinder, raid and retreat no?" 

Lauga nodded, "Yes, any aid will warrant Frost King Malakk's gratitude, and this is of low risk." 

Reine's feathers flared for a moment, "Easy to say when it is not yours who will be fighting and dying, and this plan relies on much trust, not just of you but between us." 

Korrak folded his arms, "Let the first to break their word be devoured by the their kinsmen or their people by those that they betrayed." 

Frostbite let out a keening noise, "Whitewhisker and Snowblind alwas friends anyway, only we need fear betrayal from within." 

All eyes began turning to Lauga who sucked in a breath and took to their paws. "If it pleases, honorable Speakers, honor guards and Lauga can lead charge." 

Something subtle flowed across the crowd and finally, a small chest was opened, revealing a collection of powdered squares in an array of colors. 

"Kudiri?" Lauga asked, eyeing the substance as Korrak passed out a single piece to each Speaker, "You trade it?" 

Low laughtered echoed, "What I said is truth, Kudiri is something to trade for, not trade away." 

Frostbang bit into the strange, doughy substance, "But gifts are fine." 

Reine nodded, "It sooths the mind, it is tradition to take a piece before resolving a dispute," She then tossed back her own peace as did Sivvle and Korrak. 

Breathing in the scene, it seemed almost plain, but as the powder touched their tongue and began to bubble and pop, sweetness flowing into their maw, Lauga swallowed. It did not take long to have an effect, muscles eased and tingled pleasantly, the darkness of the cave became subtly fuzzy and a sense of wellness and fullness flowed throughout. 

Korrak's voice cut through the din, "So, how shall we proceed?" 

Alterac factions section, Wolver = Lauga

Wildpaw Pack, Gnoll Grimtooth, Wildpaw Alpha, Wildpaw Brute, Wildpaw Mystic, Wildpaw Shaman, Frostbite

Snowblind harpies, Icewing Pass, Icewing Cavern, Snowblind Harpy, Snowblind Ambusher Snowblind Windcaller

Whitewhisker Overseer, Whitewhisker Geomancer, Whitewhisker Digger, Whitewhisker, Snivvle Taskmaster

Korrak, Rezrelek, Winterax Seer, Winterax Shadow Hunter, Winterax Warrior, Winterax Berserker, Winterax Mystic Bru'kan of the Elements ,

___________________________________________________________________

Caer Darrow had been quiet as the grave for days, all those who struck against the Drakkari Empire laying asleep within the Barov’s home, to be awakened on wars end. Only the disciplined Gundraki Legions and the Barov’s had truly held the fortified peninsula town, minds consumed either duty or worry for lost family.

Gal'darah had done what he could to reassure the Barov’s of their dear Jandice’s safety, but such worries did tend to go beyond what rationality could assuage and their faith was still small and un-tested.

‘Speaking of faith,’ he thought wryly as Caer Darrow quaked and rumbled at the strike of cannon fire against its walls.

Alexi and Illucia scurried behind him, hands on stave and swords as they stared out from a fortified watch post atop their home, cursing at the marshalling vessels surrounding the tiny peninsula and the army stationed at the beach.

“Gun-Boats, they brought damned gun-boats, of course they bloody well did!” Barov cursed.

Illucia looked to the tome hanging from her hip warily, “The wards are strong and the Drakkari barriers should hold?” She asked, her tone growing high and unsure in that manner humans did when they were confused.

“Fret not, noble allies,” Gal'darah answered, saluting them with his Saronite tipped spear. “You are under the protection of the finest Zul’Drak has to offer, this enemy shall not merely be withstood but routed!”

“Routed?” Alexi gasped, “They outnumber your forces three to one, not counting for the gun-boats-” the island quaked, “Battering at my walls!”

Illucia stared out to sea and grimaced, “How do you intend to defeat them when your forces are, are…”

“Dancing!?” Alexi groused.

Down in the wide village square, atop homes and on the barricades, robed Drakkari danced, made offerings, and performed the rights of the faithful and learned. Gal'darah could feel the flow of the world shifting, he suspected Illucia could to but did not yet understand its majesty.

Smirking he said, “We do far more than dance, noble Alexi, I assure you of that.”

The man’s hands twitched on his sword, paranoia nearly giving way to betrayal before he caught himself.

“Wise decision,” He chuckled.

Teeth grinding, he snapped, “What is your plan? We have risked everything on this, lost our daughter and you simply make grand promises?”

“I do not merely make grand promises,” Gal'darah lectured, as if speaking to a young student, impetuous of mind but arrogant in tongue. “I am telling you to keep your faith in our Frost King.”

“Faith will garner one a pat on the head from a priest,” Alexi spat.

“An honor indeed,” Gal'darah chuckled, ruffling the man’s hair, and leaving him so stunned he did not even react to it.

“Now then, I must go speak with my mistaken foe, if you will excuse me?”

Not waiting for an answer, he leapt from the battlements and raced through the small, but dense and wealthy town to leap into the air and land upon the grand, blocky gate that faced the sole road to the mainland.

Puling a runic wand from his belt and spinning the enchanted idol in his fingers, divine energies suffusing its being he brought it to his mouth and let his voice boom across the divide between he and the amassing military camp along the coast and rocky mountains.

“Hail to thee, rebel warriors, know that you speak to Gal'darah, High Prophet of Akali, Grand Prophet of Zul’Drak, confidant of our imperial majesty Frost King Malakk and commander of the elite, Gundraki Legions! To whom do I speak as a fellow commander!?”

The air seemed to shift and waver as a man suffused with light strode only part of the way down the long path, guards at his side. He raised his hammer and in a distant but still booming voice, he answered, “I am Tirion Fordring, Paladin defender of Lordaeron and loyal servant of this lands true monarch and royal family! Surrender now and you will be treated humanely!”

Gal’Darah repressed a chuckle at the odd choice of words, instead answering airily. “I believe you are trying to offer me mercy where none is needed, but even if it were, I would refuse you, for I have seen the camps, I know this mercy and it is a cruel kindness indeed.”

He placed a foot on the raised battlements and added, “You have marshalled quite a force here, larger even than I expected, but it shall not be enough. Soldiers, knights, mages, and paladins, lay down your arms, return to your homes and families. Live in peace with us as neighbors or accept your true monarch in Frost King Malak and be equals in the mightiest empire of this age, the Drakkari Empire!”

The Paladin’s answer was immediate, a glowing hammer hurtled towards his face that swerved upwards in time to just skim the barrier before being caught by the Paladin who roared. “Lordaeron shall never surrender to the likes of you!”

“Your queen already has,” he answered in a perfectly level tone.

The Alliance’s answer was angry hollering from the soldiers and the paladin turning his back to him, marching away, cape billowing in the wind.

Pocketing his amplification idol, Gal'darah grasped his spear and with a hefty grunt embedded it into the ground before the town gates, before turning to address his fellows.

“They have spat upon Frost King Malakk’s mercy, commence the ritual!”

___________________________________________

Tirion frowned in consideration, mind mulling over the exchange as his guards spoke.

“To think that woman sold us down the river.”

“You think she did so without being tortured or tricked with some magic?!?”

“Rumors from capitals escapees say she is the damn monster kings consort now.”

“Enough,” Tirion said, “I will not stand by and let you impugn the queen mothers honor without proof, besides,” he looked over his shoulder, “We have other matters to attend to.”

“Milord?”

“The trolls are planning something, and we took more from the front than I would like, so we will not wait them out, we shall break open the gates and retake Caer Darrow. Now!”

________________

NOTES:

The song sung by Hala'Zhi was basically a quick spin on the To the Void Shante which has been running loops in my head for two days. I also really wanted to give Hala'Zhi and their role as a War Priest some focus so I hope that worked as intended.

Zeb'Antu roughly translates to (Forest Overseers). I picked it because I decided Zul'Rogg and company were among the Nomadic tribes, whether by choice or not is up in the air, but they watch over the woods all the same.