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Dawn of the Dragon	By : RotSeele Category: +S through Z > World of Warcraft Views: 3875 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own World of Warcraft. I do not make any money from this story.

Chapter List
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Thirty-Eight
Varian gazed upon the Horde-controlled town of Tarren Mill, then looked toward the snow-capped mountains of Alterac. He was standing on one of the Nazes - he couldn't remember which - with a small contingent of men. And Jaina. Varian cast a sidelong glance at the sorceress, noting her stiff shoulders and tense back as she stared across the open ground toward Tarren Mill and what was coming towards them. As a warning and a courtesy, he'd sent a note to Vol'jin to apprise him of the events, and to tell him to stay out of the Alliance's way. Vol'jin had responded by showing up in Tarren Mill himself with a decent amount of Horde warriors, and had warned Varian to basically step off, since the area was primarily Horde-centric, with only a spattering of Alliance forces here and there.
The problem, though, was that Varian didn't have time for this meeting, nor did he have time to babysit Jaina, who seemed to be growing more and more hostile as time wore on. He'd tell her to leave, if he thought he'd survive it, but he knew that the forces she'd brought with her from Dalaran would follow her, and right now, he needed every available warrior. Their first attack against the forces of the Dark Horde hadn't gone as well as Varian had hoped. They'd gained ground, and were now in sight of the tunnel that led into the Frostwolves' portion of Alterac Valley, but they'd also lost about three dozen warriors to the attacks of both Dark Shaman and Kor'kron warriors. There was fighting going on even now, under the watchful eye of Genn Greymane. It made Varian uneasy not to be on the battlefield, but he was the only one Vol'jin was willing to meet with.
Besides, if the Horde and Alliance were going to have to work together again, then only the High King of the Alliance and the Warchief of the Horde could decide the terms and threaten those who broke the accord with painful, and often deadly, punishments.
Varian watched Vol'jin eye Jaina warily as he passed, but neither he nor his men made any move toward her. Varian gauged Jaina's response, but except for the vague narrowing of her eyes, she didn't do anything.
"I told ya to step off," Vol'jin said as he left his guards behind and joined Varian in the naze's rise.
"And I told you to shove it," Varian responded.
Vol'jin blinked, then he laughed. "Ya gettin' better at verbal sparrin', Varian."
"When you have a fifteen year old son, you'll understand."
"I'm sure I will." Vol'jin looked out on Tarren Mill. "Verbal sparrin' ain't gonna solve our problem, though."
"You could solve it real quick by leaving."
"And let ya have all the fun? Please. My own position was bought by the blood of the Horde-"
"And Alliance."
Vol'jin nodded his head in agreement. "It be bought by blood. Same blood that's runnin' now. Alliance, Horde, it don' matter; point is, we be workin' together on this, or there'll be hell ta pay after."
"For you, me, or both?"
"I reckon both. The Dark Horde ain't a problem that just go away, they just disappear til they ready to strike again. An' with Garrosh's trial comin' up, ya know they gonna strike hard an' fast."
Varian made a noise of agreement. "I should've let Go’el bash that bastard's head in with the Doomhammer."
"Ya made the right choice. Killin' in an honest battle be one thing, but killin' a fallen enemy, that just be wrong." Vol'jin rubbed his chin. "Besides, ya were right when ya said Garrosh's blood belong to you, us, and the Pandaren."
"So what do you want, then?"
Vol'jin raised himself to his full height so he towered over Varian. "What anyone wants now - peace. But I'll settle for ya and yours ta leave what belongs ya tha Horde ta tha Horde. And we'll leave what belongs ta ya, ta ya."
Varian looked up at Vol'jin. "Suits me fine. Just be warned; if anyone comes at me or mine, they will die."
"Back at ya, Wrynn."
"Don't call me that."
Vol'jin smirked, but before he could reply, a horn sounded from the direction of the battlefield, winding loud and long. The hairs on the back of Varian's neck prickled at the sound, and even Vol'jin grew tense. They turned to face the Alterac Mountains, eyes narrowed, body tense, ready for anything to come at them. The horn sounded again, and to Varian's ears it sounded almost urgent, panicked.
"Dat be a Frostwolf horn." Vol'jin said, his voice low.
"Then the battle must be going poorly for us," Varian said just as quietly. He felt his hackles rise, and he clenched his fist. "We no longer have time to talk."
"No, I don' suppose we do." Vol'jin started forward, gaining speed until he was almost loping. His guards quickly fell into step around him, passing startled Alliance warriors before they realized the Warchief and his Horde were heading toward the plaintive cry of the horn.
Varian wasn't far behind, shouting at his warriors to get moving, or did they want the Horde to fight for them? Jaina shot him a dirty look, but the sorceress kept pace with Goldrinn's champion, and when they reached the battlefield, she leapt into the fray, casting a conjured ice spear at one Orc warrior that had the misfortune of getting in her way.
Much to Varian's dismay, the battle wasn't favoring the joined forces of the Alliance and Horde at all. Many warriors lay wounded, dead, or dying on the field, more than the healers seemed to be able to keep up with. It was no surprise, really. Despite Greymane's best efforts to keep the healers protected, enemies were still getting through the established lines, not to any one warrior's incompetence, but because of the sheer volume of attacks. There were pockets of fighting everywhere, between flesh and blood men and women, between elementals, between demons - it was a state of utter chaos. Varian and Vol'jin just looked at each other, and then each waded into the fray, sword and arrow cutting a swath of destruction so vicious that many Dark Horde thought twice about confronting the High King and Warchief.
Many, but not all.
Varian didn't know who the leader of this Dark Horde was, but he was confident he or she wasn't actually here. The Dark Horde seemed too disorganized, too out of control. It was as though they were trying to buy time, and were doing so by any means necessary. As Shalamayne bit into green flesh, Varian saw a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye. He sidestepped the elemental's downward strike that would've cleaved him in two had he been even a second slower, spun and drove Shalamayne upwards into the elemental's neck. The sword caught in between two pieces of stone, and Varian growled as he wrenched it free. The elemental shook in a personal tremor and shattered.
Another elemental hit Varian from behind, sending him sprawling. Varian tucked his head against his chest and tried to salvage his tumble into a roll, bringing Shalamayne up to deflect an axe aimed for his shoulder. Behind him, the elemental surged forward, trying to crush the human king beneath its stone fists. Then suddenly Genn was there, the worgen leaping upon the elemental and sinking his claws into the spaces between the stones that made up the creature. Muscles bulged as Genn fought to rip the thing apart, and he let out a victorious howl when he succeeded.
"About time." Varian growled, spearing an Orc warrior that had been sneaking up behind Greymane.
The pack leader just stared at Varian. "I should be saying that to you."
"I'm here, aren't I?"
"Not that it's made that much of a difference. They're strong and confident. Even with the Horde's help, I don't see how we're going to be able to beat them back without help."
Varian didn't want to admit to agreeing, so he simple said, "I believe in Anduin."
Genn laughed, but whatever response he was going to make was lost in an eruption of earth and fire as shaman from both sides fought to gain control of each other's elementals. In a rare lull in the fighting, Varian spotted Jaina moving among the Mage contingents, either issuing orders or aiding them with offensive spells that swept clean the field before her. He didn't have long to dwell on the sight of the leader of the Kirin Tor, for the fighting swept back up again and he found himself in the midst of it.
Despite his words, Varian knew there was little hope of Anduin actually making it here on time with whatever he'd gone with Wrathion and Shandris to get. If, of course, Anduin had actually succeeded and if he'd found what he was looking for. There was a good chance that they would never see each other again, whether one would bury the other, or that one would never return from wherever he'd gone. Varian bit his tongue as a gauntleted fist punched him in the mouth; blood washed over his tongue, hot and salty. He spit it out before it choked him and returned the blow with one of his own. He felt his knuckles split beneath his armor and padding as he broke several teeth in the orc's mouth. The orc's head snapped back and Varian pressed his attack, driving the Orc to the ground, where Shalamayne pierced armor and the warrior's heart.
The fighting was going badly. Varian couldn't tell which side was winning, but the sheer volume of the dead and dying told him that it wouldn't be long before one side broke and began to either retreat or simply fall were they stood, fighting to their last breath.
Varian managed to rejoin Genn, Vol'jin, and Jaina somehow, the four leaders standing on as much of a vantage point as they could, taking a moment to watch the tide of the battle and to catch their breath. None of them said a word to one another, but their expressions were all the same. Within the next heartbeat, the four of them were entering the fray again. Varian found himself alongside Vol'jin, watching the Darkspear Shadowhunter move with ruthless efficiency among the fighters. Between the two of them, they cleared an entire swath of blood-soaked ground of Dark Horde enemies, allowing the Alliance and the Horde in that area to regroup and recover for a precious few minutes. Then Vol'jin and Varian were swept away from one another as the earth rumbled and split, rising up like a wave in the ocean before cascading back down, pummeling the fighters with dirt and rock.
Varian swiped sweat and blood and dirt out of his eyes and found himself face to face with a Dark Shaman. The male Orc was wearing mail armor and a wolf-skin hood that did nothing to shield his face. The grin he wore was made all the more grotesque due to the gap between his top front teeth, where the skin had been torn away. They stared at each other, Orc and man, for a few heartbeats, and then Varian lunged forward with Shalamayne in the lead. The shaman dodged to the side and swung at Varian with a mace. Varian barely avoided getting injured and ducked, swinging around to cut at the shaman's knees. The shaman leaped back in an astounding display of agility and swung the mace again, clipping Varian on the shoulder. Varian cursed, jumping backwards. He glanced at his shoulder, and found that only his armor had been dented, rather than flesh and bone. Growling, the King of Stormwind pressed the attack instead of retreating, surprising the shaman by feinting for an overhead strike when he really was aiming for the orc's middle.
The shaman's earth shield stopped Shalamayne from cutting him in half, but the force of the blow still sent the Dark Shaman to the ground. Varian stepped forward twice, taking Shalamayne in a double-handed grip to drag the blade through the ground in an effort to cut the shaman in two before he was able to regain his footing. Shalamayne bit into flesh - and stuck.
Varian yanked on his blade but the sword wouldn't come free. As hard as he pulled, Shalamayne remained stuck fast in whatever it had caught on. The Dark Shaman began to laugh. He rolled away from Varian and Shalamayne, allowing Varian to see what had trapped his sword so. Solid rock was slowly creeping up the blade, threatening to overtake it.
"You fight bravely, human king." The Dark Shaman crowed. "But it's not enough."
Varian laughed. "Didn't anyone ever teach you not to talk in battle? You might bite off your tongue." And he punched the Dark Shaman right in that gap in his mouth, snapping the orc's head back.
The Dark Shaman recovered incredibly fast and swung his mace at Varian. The king ducked under the attack and spun to try and take out the shaman's legs, only to reverse course and leap backwards with Goldrinn's agility as the earth rumbled beneath his feet. This time, Varian didn't press the attack and rather circled his enemy, forcing the shaman to pivot or let the human at his back. Varian glanced at Shalamayne and was relieved to see that the advancing rock had stopped. Without the shaman's attention, it seemed as though Varian would have a chance to free his blade. He would have to move fast, making it seem like he was moving for the attack without letting on his true intentions. Easier said than done, but Varian hadn't come all this way just to let his sword stick there in the dirt.
Varian lunged. The shaman brought the mace up and back to swing at Varian's head, but Varian felt it coming and dove, rolling right up to Shalamayne and ripping the sword from the encasing stone. He swung the sword up and over his shoulder, hearing the resounding clang and feeling the force of the impact in his arms and back. He shoved Shalamayne around and out, pushing the shaman back and giving him enough room to breathe and gain his footing, but that was all Varian could do. His boots sank into blood-soaked ground as he moved to face his enemy.
A fireball hit him square in the chest, sending the King of Stormwind flying. Despite the ringing in his ears, he thought he heard Jaina give a cry of his name, which meant she was close, but not close enough to help. He landed hard enough on his back to drive the breath from him, and he stared up at the blue sky above Alterac Valley. He couldn't catch his breath, and he wondered for a moment if something was broken inside him. If there was, he doubted he'd be able to get to his feet without some help. He struggled anyway, though, because his sense of survival wouldn't allow him to do anything less.
It felt like he was a fish struggling to get back in the water.
Something loomed over Varian. He recognized the something as the Dark Shaman, leering down at him. The Dark Shaman had his mace raised high, and even if Varian could get strength into his arms to move Shalamayne in time, he doubted that he could block the blow enough to keep the shaman from breaking his bones. And if his bones broke, then there was a good chance that he wouldn't be making it off the field alive.
The shaman brought the mace down.
Varian yanked Shalamayne between him and the descending mace.
An arrow punched through the orc's throat seconds before a set of black scales claws grabbed him, lifting him up into the air so fast Varian saw the trail of blood still suspended in the air for the briefest of seconds. Then he watched as the black dragon arrowed into the sky with its prey, and in full sight of everyone, ripped the Dark Shaman to pieces, scattering them across the battlefield.
Varian felt breath return to him suddenly, felt bones shifting back into place, bruises and cuts vanishing, his fatigue slipping away. He saw the glimmer of golden light fading around his body and began to get to his feet. He was suddenly supported by two pairs of arms, which he shook off the moment he was steady. A glance left and right told him who'd grabbed him - Genn and Vol'jin - but it didn't tell him where the dragon had come from.
The dragon wheeled in the sky and shot downwards, blasting Dark Horde fighters with its molten breath as it sped low across the ground. It spun again, faster than most dragons could move, paused, and shot back across the field, harrowing more warriors.
"Who brought that beast here?" Genn asked. Both Vol'jin and Varian shrugged.
As if in answer, a halo of light shimmered around the men, shielding them and healing them at the same time. Varian stiffened, recognizing the feel of the healing spell instantly. He almost didn't believe it.
The dragon whirled around again and sped over the defenders, pausing in the air for the briefest of moments before landing. Varian and the others turned to look at the dragon, and Varian thought Vol'jin's expletive summed up the situation quite nicely.
The black dragon landed lightly behind Anduin, Wrathion, and a young woman who was holding a bow whose string was still quivering. She slowly lowered her arm and looked over at Anduin. The young Prince of Stormwind gave a small smile and lifted his hand in greeting.
"Uh, hi, Dad. She followed me home. Can I keep her?"
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Dawn of the Dragon