Pyrewood
The sounds of war filled the air. Commanders shouted orders to their units, soldiers marched in formation, and ballistae, trebuchets and catapults alike sung a blood hymn. The siege had taken days.. weeks.. months? How long had they been here? How long had the Forsaken bled them for? It was supposed to have been a quick, lightning blitz as Azurelode and Southpoint had been.. but no. The Forsaken had walled themselves off, and they had been prepared for the Halcyon's advance.
Every advance their footmen made against the Forsaken's hastily constructed palisades had been repelled with rivers of blight, fields of mines, and nigh on invisible pitfalls which sent soldiers to unceremonious graves, only for the Undead to scour the field of the fallen after the fact, resurrecting the Halcyon's chosen into more of their mindless zombies. For every Crusader that fell, another Forsaken rose. There was no mercy; there had been no mercy; there would be no mercy. In the early morning, there had been a great cry: a breach had been made in the palisade. It had collapsed in on itself, crushing dozens of Forsaken. The Halcyon's vanguard had swept in like a tidal wave, foaming and thrashing at the monstrous undead until they had broken through. Fields of decayed, distended wheat, human skulls and fresh entrails greeted them, the stench of rotting corpses invading their senses. It was all a grand show from the Forsaken, specifically designed to demoralize and disgust their living counterparts.
Line after line of Deathguards took up formation, linking arms, locking their crude, ghastly shields together, forming a secondary shieldwall, a tertiary shieldwall, quaternary.. quinary.. senary...more and more Undead stormed into Pyrewood's streets. With a collective, thunderous roar, the first of the Forsaken lines began to maneuver forwards, the bulwark marching in unison. They formed a half ring around the breach, their swords jabbing outwards, stabbing at the Crusaders, hoping to drive them back whence they came, or better yet, butcher them like cattle. The Forsakens' ghastly lines tightened into formation throughout the narrow causeway. The semi-circle around the breach shunted, convulsing against the press of the plated Crusaders before them. Then, a bright light erupted behind the undead lines. They paused, turning, scattering to the sides, trying to see - and avoid - whatever devilry the Crusaders had concocted. The Forsaken line began to splinter. Behind them, the second line of deathguards were already marching forwards, fresh and ready for battle. Score upon score of tireless, immortal soldiers filled the gaps left by those before them, absorbing shock after shock of an impending assault. The Forsaken line soon buckled under the Halcyon's thrust, undead falling in bodily heaps to the cobblestones below. At last, they buckled completely, and the Forsaken began to march back, retreating as slowly as they possibly could. They paid no heed to the screams of their brothers-in-arms as they were turned into smoldering, sludgy pools from the Halcyon Commander’s holy fire. The second line of Forsaken were practically decimated, and their formation tightened. As one great force, they continued forwards. Their focus was singular now: Kill the one who'd destroyed them so thoroughly. It was almost a perfect pincer, the Forsaken had the Halcyon’s Commander squarely between them, with nowhere to run. The Forsaken backpedaled away as quickly as they could from the Halcyon's onslaught. They scattered, falling back to try and desperately escape the oncoming Crusaders, but time and again, they fell to the charge. The Forsaken were practically in a route now, trying with all their might to- The ground was on fire. Cracks, splinters of golden magic spread far and wide, and with a collective cry, the first bulwark of the Forsaken's defense turned to ash. A bright, purple sword careened and slashed its way through their armor, score after score of deathguards slumping limply to the dirt, with very few remaining in -one- piece.
The next two Forsaken battalions began to slowly march -backwards- away from the breach, forming a tight, collective line just behind the ruins of two tall townhouses. Their shields rose to meet the crusaders, their helmets ducked behind the macabre barricade. Their new shieldwall, a platoon of archers, had taken up formation. With a rush of snapping string, the sky blackened with dark, feathered arrows. As several Halcyon forces made their way to the unassuming wall, from under the cobblestones there came a click. The three had set off a landmine! Shrapnel, dust and blown stone sprayed in every direction. At the sound of one of their exploding traps, the Forsaken let out a collective guttural cheer, their mocking laughter echoing throughout the township. Arrows nocked against bows and bowstrings, the straining groan of bowstrings being drawn screaming out through the streets. Then,dozens of black, steel-barbed arrows soared into the sky, casting a shadow over the houses and crusaders as they arched their way up.. up.. and then down onto their heads.
Again, the Forsaken howled and hooted with laughter as the Halcyon floundered and staggered. More arrows were nocked.Then, from behind the vanguard, there came a loud, cheering roar. Reinforcements! Through the breach they marched, their shields raised to provide their ailing allies with cover from the volleys of arrows that were overtaking them. A fresh-faced captain poked her head out, gesturing towards the wounded soldiers, "Get your asses in here, boys! We've managed to break through their citadel defenses, now c'mon! We'll get you to - and through - that wall."
With that, her face dipped back into the column, resiliently marching through the streets, straight towards the Forsaken line. Almost immediately, the Undead’s hollers and hoots were replaced with eerie, snarling silence. The Halcyon crashed against the second shieldwall, the Forsaken shields bending, but unlike the first one, they didn't break. The Undead held firm against the Holy onslaught, however, they hadn't anticipated the magical blades of Light the Halcyon’s Lieutenant Commander hurtled their way, and moments later half of that carefully prepared line crumbled to ash. By the time her magic dissipated, it was as if the Forsaken had never existed to begin with.
The archers, seeing that half of their defenses were already falling by the wayside, began to backpedal from the fray, until they were pressed against the ring of trees which marked the town's center. Their bowstrings pulled back, and, despite one of their number being "PINGED" squarely in the forehead by a magical hammer, they loosed another volley, right into the Halcyon's back line. The archers weren't expecting the crusaders to breach through so quickly! They saw a crusader charge through the lines, and before they could even begin to reorganize into a defensive posture, their captain had taken an arrow to the eye. A Halcyon archer’s thick shaft pierced him square in the peeper, and he fell to the ground with a clatter, the arrowhead pushing back into his brain from the force of it.
Meanwhile, his former unit was thrown into disarray, some of them dropping their bows and turning tail to flee, others trying in vain to draw their dirks and daggers, stabbing uselessly at the plated monster in front of them.
Though eventually they regained their composure, and as a swarm they descended upon the Lieutenant-Commander, dog piling atop her, stabbing ruthlessly with their short knives. The Halcyon's backline might be safe.. but the crusader? She was not so lucky. The Halcyon's reinforcements descended upon the remaining half of the shieldwall like a wave, pinning the deathguards close to the cliffside, even as the Knight Lieutenant slammed them in the rear and stabbed wildly at their backline. Down, down the last of the shieldwall went as they were shunted and pinned against the cliffside, their armor scraping, tarnishing itself.. until finally, with a great heave, the Halcyon's soldiery -crushed- the undead under their own shields. They were dead, once more, and they would not rise again.
The archers, meanwhile, stabbed fitfully at the Lt. Commander, clawing to get through her armor.. and then the Commander lunged towards them, slaughtering them one by one like cattle. By the time they were done, there wasn't a single Forsaken left standing. The town's center was silent.. completely, dismally silent. Until, at the last, from what could only be considered the town hall, there came a slow, steady "clap. Clap. Clap."
A single Forsaken stepped from the doorframe, dressed in the finest garments a lord of the Forsaken could have. For those who were attentive, this was the same Forsaken they had spied during their reconnaissance, who had marched so proudly into the town with his guardsmen.
"Well.. done," he crowed out to them in broken, strained common, his cracked lips curling into a smile. "Very well done. As lord of Pyrewood and the Banshee Queen's envoy, I bequeath unto you this town.. and surrender it willingly." His smile widened, eyes narrowing. "Well.. I would, if I didn't have another ploy up my sleeve." With that, he reached for a small, shimmering crystal about his neck, clutching it intently. "You see, one of your own lot managed to do something we'd been having quite a bit of difficulty with. We just.. -couldn't- get him working. Thank you for fixing it for us."
With a cackle, the Forsaken's grin began to falter. He coughed, spluttered, the "life" draining from his face.. and then, in a slump, he fell lifeless to the ground. Once more, the town was silent- A rumble. A tremor? As a crusader made his way towards the noble, the Forsaken's skin began to take on a sickly shade of green. Ooze began to seep from his lips, and then, with a low gurgle, the corpse -exploded- with an eruption of bile, bone and blood. The tremors grew louder, louder, pounding in the crusaders' ears. On the Lt. Commander's orders, the column of reinforcements spread out into three even groups, all around the town's center. There came a rush, as if a waterfall had just sprung.. and then, from behind the houses, towards the great sea itself, there came a low, guttural groan.
"Grrrrgghghghghgh.." It was wet; fleshy, and hungry. Atop the town hall, a gigantic, stone hand gripped the shingles, sending them scattering and flailing in every direction. A second hand rose up to the opposing side of the structure, and with a great heave, whatever -it- was pulled itself from the ocean. Like a child leaving a bathtub, water splashed -high- over the town hall, splattering, cascading down across the streets, mingling with blood and bile. The support beams of the building buckled, snapped, and broke. The bell tower collapsed in on the hall, crashing in a metallic heap, giving way to the towering golem that had used it so carelessly. It was gigantic, standing well above the tops of the highest trees. Not since the likes of Thaddius of Naxxramas had any living mortal seen such a creation of stitched flesh and metalworking.
It was clad in armor, a tattered cloak falling far behind its back, with a wispy white beard and -burning- blue eyes. Upon its head was a crown, and those of Lordaeron would be able to recognize it immediately: the monster's face was a bearded caricature of Terenas. Slowly, the monster marched out from the bay, his wide legs smashing through the ruins of the town hall, reducing it to little more than rubble.. and he just -stared- at the gathering. A Knight Captain’s hammer throttled towards its forehead, clashing against its metal frame with a loud, resounding "P-tink!" but the creature barely even winced from it. It did, however, get its attention. It began to move forwards.. and then, lacing around its right arm, their Lt. Commander’ golden chains wrapped up, past its bicep, almost to its shoulder.
It gave the colossus pause, its monstrous head turning towards the chains. With a shrug, the Light shattered, crashing into a thousand tiny pieces. Its attention turned towards the Halcyon again, and with two heavy footfalls, it reached them. A Crusader’s magic sailed towards its arm, and once again, the beast took it without complaint. If they didn't know any better, the Halcyon would be forgiven for thinking it was immune to such magic. Its litchfire eyes blazed, a deep, guttural roar emanating from its core, and its left fist rose high above its head. It snarled, and with a rush of air, the fist swung down -hard- towards the Captain. The colossus' fist crashed into the pavement, creating a crater in the ground. It let out a loud, angry yowl as a Crusader began his channeling of magic, its burning gaze turning away from its makeshift pothole towards him. Its callous lips contorted into a sneer, and its right hand reached out, sweeping away at all the crusaders that stood between it and its target. Its body contorted with the motion, its left fist rising up off the ground, leaving a crushed Captain and a smushed battle-mender in its wake.
The wispy, light blue rune atop the monster's head blazed brightly as a Crusader attempted to siphon the magic away. But even -that- seemed to falter. The rune began to blaze a deep shade of red, completely opposing its original setting.. and the Terenas Mk. 2's eyes morphed, shifting from their lichfire blue to a bloody red. They had made it angry.
Once its sweep was complete, it stomped its way towards the Crusader, reaching out with its left hand to attempt to lift him up off the ground. The colossus didn't have the time nor patience to realize that an archer was nocking a veritable fireball onto his bowstring. There was a twang, the head jerking momentarily to see what the noise was. The monster let out a bellowing yell, staggering, letting its grip on the Crusader go. It stumbled, faltered, and with a crash, it tumbled backwards, right into the path that it had previously swept.
The colossus dove where a Captain had been mere moments earlier, and let out a pitiful wail of pain as a Lieutenant’s sword dug into its neck, the soldier having leapt up onto the giant and climbed onto its shoulders. The creature once more rose up to its feet, thrashing, flailing, trying to shake him off its shoulders once more. Cannons fired, trebuchets launched their stones, catapults snapped their loads, and a hail storm of projectiles careened through the sky towards the towering monster. Rocks slammed against its face, crushing its one good eye, distending its jaw, its nose.. everything. It staggered back, beginning to slow down, to stop.. and then, with one, clean, "Ftwip!" one of the Halcyon’s archers’ arrows landed squarely in the center of its rune. Its arms fell to its sides, and like a tin soldier, it began to fall backwards. The colossus landed in a heap in the center of the township, limp and dead. They had done it. Pyrewood was conquered.
