((Alternately titled, Jarrick’ing. FYI, this is far more heroic-ish than most of my stories, but trying to get practice once more for writing action and making it flow correctly.))
Greywatch, hours before dawn.
The horns sounded the alert, before choking off into stunned silence. Other sentries started and attempted to respond the alarm, only to find Deathstalker arrows in their throats. Greywatch��_��__s main gate shuddered a few moments later, as the large camp scrambled to awaken and get ready for the surprise assault.
Worgen and men and dwarves slammed into the gate, bracing it against the heavy ram. Another hit, and wood splintered in the gate. Archers attempting to get to the top of the wall were shot down as soon as they reached the top, plagued arrows killing quickly and messily, as the engineered virus swarmed over the targets it hit.
Another hit to the gate, and even with the men and women bracing it, the gate heaved, more wood and iron cracking and breaking.
��_��__This won��_��__t hold��_��__ we need to buy time,��_��__ grunted a brown haired man, his sword and shield against the gate, the tabard of the Templar bright even in the dark morning. A worgen, hollow blue eyes taking stock of the gate, then peered at the human for a moment. Glacierfur nodded in agreement, grunting, ��_��__With you.��_��__
Jarrick nodded back, then began snapping orders to the other troops. ��_��__After the next hit, open it when they pull back. We��_��__re going through.��_��__
The heavily armored worgen and human backed off the gate, taking a few steps to get a running start. The gate rattled and splintered once again, the heavy wooden brace near cracking in half. Then the pressure lessened. One of the officer shouted, ��_��__Now!��_��__ And the troops began opening the gate. Both human and worgen ran at a dead sprint to the door, not hesitating.
The timing was perfect. A mere moment before they would have hit the gate, it opened to two very surprised abominations, who were still preparing to swing their heavy battering ram. The collision was bone jarring, the grand marshal hitting his abomination low, smashing his shield into the open gut. The rush and the force of the shield tipped the abomination over, its too long, muscular arms waving comically as it lost its balance, letting go of the battering ram. The short, stubby legs with ill sized feet to deal with the huge mass of the abomination pinwheeled as the thing tried to right itself, at least until Jarrick��_��__s sword flashed once, twice with surgical precision, putrid green and brown ichor splashing up from the severed head.
Glacierfur hit his abomination high, stabbing two heavy swords into the monster��_��__s chest, and snapped his jaws forward, catching the monster in the throat, and shook his head, shredding the dead flesh of its throat with long canines. Gore spurt from the torn throat, and using the mouthful of flesh as purchase, the worgen tore one of his swords from the things chest and plunged it deep into the small head, it too falling backward, gushing foul smelling sludge.
The gate closed behind the two, and the sounds of frantic, hurried repairs could be heard.
��_��__Hold for two minutes.��_��__ Jarrick murmured under his breath, as a large number of Forsaken, some orcs, and a few elves approached the two. ��_��__Reinforcements are on the way, and the repairs should be done by then.��_��__ The warrior raised his shield in a ready position, the fine armor and weapons already splattered.
��_��__Walk in the park,��_��__ growled Glacierfur, after he spat a chunk of foul, rotten flesh onto the ground. The two dark red runeblades seemed to glow in anticipation as he raised them to a ready stance, the death knight standing shoulder to shoulder with the warrior.
The forces of the Horde charged with a wordless roar. The two armored champions went into a flurry of hacking, parrying, slashing, blocking, working in a furious, desperate tandem. In the course of twenty seconds each had save the other��_��__s existence, if not life, at least twice. Pure martial prowess guided the warrior��_��__s sword, as hundreds of hours of relentless training and horrific battles paid off in dividends, as he blocked a disemboweling strike with the shield, thrust his sword through the offender��_��__s shoulder, hacking off the arm of another, slamming the shield into the head of one that got too close Glacierfur��_��__s side, crushing the orc��_��__s head against the armor of one of his fellows that had come too close too quickly, deflecting the axe that would have taken off the Worgen��_��__s head.
If the warrior was purity of the art of war, the Death Knight was the fury of a freezing storm. Ice and wind assaulted his enemies with fiercely bitter cold and razor edged ice, along with strikes that were eerily precise. Each blow wedged into weakened armor joints, assaulted delicate or fragile organs, and icy strikes that shattered armor, leaving them open to either for a finishing touch. A fierce and echoing howl that coalesced into a freezing wind burst forth from the Worgen��_��__s dead lungs, sending an agile Deathstalker attempting to find a point of weakness in the warrior��_��__s defense tumbling back into his allies, a now solid block of ice from the wolf��_��__s howl. The fury of ice and wind kept they attacks off balance, and the warrior��_��__s prowess kept the Horde��_��__s forces from gaining enough momentum to simply crush the defenders against the gate they were defending.
A blast of fire seared away the right side of the wolf��_��__s face as more and more Horde crowded the impending breach, an arrow hissed by the human��_��__s face, narrowly missing his right eye. The attacks became more concentrated as the Horde sensed that time was of the essence. Magic flew alongside arrows as the two focused more on defense and surviving rather than killing their opponents. A sword went through Glacierfur��_��__s thigh, he twisted his leg, and tore the sword away from its owner, just as Jarrick��_��__s sword plunged through the elf��_��__s skull. Three arrows buried themselves into his shield, and a fourth pierced armor and slid just below the man��_��__s collarbone.
There was a barely heard shout from the other side of the gate. ��_��__Done! Get in!��_��__
The death knight let loose another howl and a flurry of snow assaulted the Horde forces, as Jarrick channeled the fury of the Vrykul into a stunning wave that flew from them. Both man and werewolf launched themselves back through the gate as the Horde regained their footing, and attempted to charge through as the gate slammed back shut. Glacierfur took a moment to take stock of their injuries as Jarrick caught his breath. The worgen concluded they were not immediately threatening to their existence, as long as assistance was found.
Which was in abundance. The gate had been braced thoroughly, and in those two minutes, the resident mage had opened a portal to the Alliance section of Dalaran, gaining entire squads of fresh, ready troops in moments. The new troops surged to the walls, guns and bows ready. It was less than a minute under a furious fusillade of projectiles magical and non, that the Horde��_��__s retreat horns sounded. The raid was a failure, this time.
Jarrick grinned at the tall werewolf, and asked, through blood sheeting down his face as a priest began to administer some healing rites, ��_��__Walk in the park?��_��__
Glacierfur thought about it for a moment, then gave one of his rare grins as he began to try and wiggle the sword loose from his thigh.��_��__It -was- uphill both ways.��_��__
Comments
No Comments