Fel fire rained from the skies above Kharanos, illuminating the snow capped mountains in vivid detail. Kharanos burned in the shadow of the mountain and its defenders were already on their last leg.
He rode the ram hard through the snow covered plains but as the town came into sight, the ram halted, spooked from the ongoing battle. He gave the ram a hardy pat on the side and leapt from the saddle, not wasting a moment. He drew his blade and unsaddled his shield, charging into the town proper.
“Oy! It’s Jarrick! A Marshal from th’ Rose ‘as come ta aid us in th’ fight!”
A few of the defenders not already occupied with fighting turned and raised their weapons as the Marshal arrived.
“Ain’t ye’ a sight fer sore eyes!” one shouted. “Does that mean th’ rest o’ yer Order is close behind?!” another bellowed.
He nodded in greeting but shook his head. He had come alone and as far as he knew, the Rose did not know the Legion had begun to invade Azeroth.
“Rally your men! Let us show the Legion that the defenders of Azeroth are not to be trifled with!”
The defenders in ear shot roared and begun to spread throughout the town, gathering those that were still in fighting shape. In mere minutes, the resistance had formed a formidable defense in the center of the town.
“Marshal Mason.. Now that’s ah face I’ve not seen in a long time!”
He turned his attention to the blood-covered dwarf that emerged from behind Thunderbrew Distillery.
“Granis, old friend. I see you have wasted no time putting your axe to use.” He smiled.
The dwarf bellowed as only a dwarf could. “Ye’ know that tha’ town ain’t gonna defend itself!” He grinned back at Jarrick.
“Aye. I fear this fight is far from over though.” He raised his shield in a sweeping motion across the northern entrance to the town, acknowledging the new wave of demons that approached.
Granis grunted and rumbled gruffly. “Then how’s about we giv’em an old what-for, just like th’ old days?”
He nodded sternly.
“We will show them an Azerothian welcome.”
The battle raged for hours. Somewhere in the chaos of the fighting, Grace had joined by his side. The horns of Ironforge had echoed across the snow capped peaks, heralding the forces of Ironforge that were led by Muradin Bronzebeard himself. Though the forces of the Legion seemed endless, the combined forces of the defenders had repelled the invasion.
As the hours passed, the bodies accumulated on both sides. Fallen dwarves, travelers, adventurers, and citizens littered the streets while smoldering infernals and wicked demons piled high.
The price of victory was high, but victory never came without a cost. The unfortunate truth was that this would not be the last time they paid such a price for fighting against the Legion, and for some, wavering morale had already begun to set in.
Regardless, they had won the day, but time was of the essence and any celebration was short lived.
“Stormwind was made aware of the invasion before Muradin’s forces left Ironforge.”
Jarrick looked at the young, red-haired SI:7 agent beside him. She was singed, covered in sweat, blood, and soot, and tired. Above all else, she was fiercely dedicated to the cause and showed no sign of stopping.
“King Wrynn has begun to mobilize the Alliance forces. They’re going to strike at the heart of the invasion.”
He pondered her words for a moment, charting the best course of action in his mind. Eventually, he spoke.
“We will see our way to Stormwind and I will alert the Rose. Let us finish this before it truly begins.”
Though exhausted, Grace looked up at him with a genuine smile on her face. “Let’s go see the Kin–“
Her words were cut short when a weakened portal appeared in the town center. A young man, covered in blood and harboring multiple fatal wounds, stumbled out and fell to the ground.
“..they’re.. they’re attacking.. Stormwin…”
The young man heaved, collapsing at their feet, the life gone from his eyes.
Thamner Pol, resident physician in town, rushed over from the wound he worked to bind and dropped to his knees in hope of aiding the young mage.
“Granis!” He shouted across the town center. “Stormwind’s under attack!”
Granis came to attention. “We’ll see what sort’a aid we can get ta’ Stormwind.. Marshal, dun’ hold yerself up on our account, that portal’s lookin’ mighty weak an’ ah doubt it’ll carry more than a’ few o’ us through. Go!”
He nodded to Granis and drew his weapons. Grace drew hers and gave Jarrick a solemn nod before they both stepped through the portal.