True Faith

A story i just did for the heck of it, it's set in the sort of timeframe unsung legends is set in and follows it's storyline, where in lordaeron the lich king has begun a slow infiltration of lordaeron, and azeroth as a whole, of course it is a wc storyline, but you will not meet Torin Brightsteel or hear of his adventures in UL i just made it up.... I tried to include a bit of character development, through out the thing, cause i think that is very important, but i'm not sure i did it right, since it includes a bit of action and battles are very hard to portray. anyways just something i did for fun, this is part one out of 3-4 parts...

PART 1


The sea glinted, a beautiful turqoise, to match the violet sky as the sun peeked over the horizon. Torin Brightsteel sighed, he knew that it was decieving, the rivers ran as red as the sun looked now, the scourge approached, and it would tear apart all they had rebuilt in the past year, again. The wyrns attacked and raided the incoming ships almost daily now, and yet no dwarven gyrphons came to aid them, no doubt busy defendng thier own ground. Turning away from the sea, feeling that it was too depressing, Torin cast a longing look at the city behind him. Gilneas stood fair and proud, and even at this early hour bustled with merchants and customers from all around, which of course attracted the thieves as well. He had, but an hour to enjoy these sites at his own time, for soon he would report to the Commander, for his assignment. At the age of 41, Torin was sure that he would not be recalled to the army , there were many more boisterous and lively youths to join, old people like himself were not needed, yet just a week ago he had recieved a letter from the commander, confirming that he too would be called to the army. This came as a shocking relevation, as a mercenary Torin had travelled far and wide, and fought in many battles, yet he still shook at the thought of fighting the scourge once more. He had faced them in battle, and never had he faced such a force, they moved as though connected through one mind, one genius of war, with each that fell, thier numbers grew, and though one may slay a thousand of them, yet another two thousand would be raised to do battle. Damn them, he thought, after Arthas had fled, and the relatively weak Forsaken had taken over, nearly everyone thought that there would be no war, the forsaken were not fool enough to pick a fight with both them and the scourge. Who in thier right mind would assault such grand walls as they had in Gilneas, yet he was called back to war. He had hoped to settle down in Gilneas, perhaps get married and start a family, but that was soon going to change. Apparently the scourge were going to invade again, and though he saw no point in fighting them, especially since some said that Arthas had grown stronger in his absence, but alas Torin would serve his race.

After continuing in this train of thoughts for nearly an hour, while absent mindlessly looking around and admiring gilneas's sites, he finally decided to make good his promise to serve the alliance and report to the commader. When he arrived, -which took a considerably long time, as he ran into some particularily charming ladies on the way- Torin found the main barracks overwhelmed, worried captains rushed to and fro, no doubt thier career was on the line if they didn't manage to assemble thier squads on time. A long line snaked itself through out the barracks starting at the commander's office, supposing that this was the right line, and cursing the commander for putting everything off until now, Torin joined the line.

Nearly two hours later, he was accepted, and although a mercenary, he had achieved the rank of captain several times, during his career, thus due to the shortage of experienced warriors, he was placed in command of a small squad, consisting of about 15 solidiers , most looking like they should have been going to school today, were it not for the war. However, he was pleased and not just a little bit astonished to find a stout and hearty dwarf by the name of Grandis Stonebeard in his squad as co-captain. The two had a history together, often fighting in battles and travelling together, Grandis had recently parted with Torin, due to the fact that Khaz Modan, was severly lacking solidiers in it's own defense.

"Aye mate, surprised to see me here, eh? Well at Ironforge we found that you young'ns were in need of some veteran fighters to show you the ropes. So I took pity on you and joined up." Said Grandis laughing merrily, at the sight of his old comrade.

"That maybe so, but who's the commander here, Grandis? I noticed that you were only co-captain." countered Torin, friendly.

Grandis suddenly went red, and muttered something that sounded very much like "racist bastards" and after a slightly awkard moment, inquired "So you met anyone 'interesting' during your stay at this run-down excuse for a town?"

Not one to want to continue in such a vien, Torin quickly began running down the procedures in battles and how the no-doubt inexcperienced solidiers would follow them. Dismayed not to have a priest in his squad, Torin ran down a small list of battle tactics that he hoped the boys would be able to understand, and hoping to god that they would be assigned a relatively easy task...

"What! Sir, your joking right? I mean us, just look at 'em, they're not even shaving yet!" Torin spluttered clearly irritated, and gestured towards his squad. It was a couple hours after his reunion with Grandis, Torin and his squad was meeting with the commander to recieve thier assignment.

"Sit down, commander, you shall not react like that again to your superiors, now i assure you i am perfectly sane, your squad is the best we can spare right now, and you shall raid and defeat the blood dragons." seeing the look of rage that Torin wore, he hastily added "Along with another squad that has two priests, i have complete confidence in you Captain, our interview is at an end, take your squad prepare and have a good night's rest. In the morn the majority of the forces will have departed. It will be up to you to keep the peace with the citizens who have grown rather unruly, they request that the blood dragons who have taken residence in the mountains be slain, that is your mission Captain, good day." replied the captain, in a not very friendly tone, that even Torin picked up.

Torin slept little that night thinking of the dragons that he would have to face. As a resident of gilneas he had of course heard thier story. Over centuries many have tempted thier rage, and none survived, as all dragons do,the blood dragons have hoarded immense amounts of treasure and gold, trophies of thier immense power. The blood dragons however were particularily vicious, it is said that the corruption of the dragon maw clan in years past, transformed them into brutal monsters. They had grown in the habit of bathing themselves in the blood of thier latest victims, giving them thier scales a deep crimson dye. They wandered from place to place, often considered an omen of destruction, seeing as how they set much of Dalaran in flames before the scourge destroyed the mages.

The next morning, Torin did a quick run down with the other captain who turned out to have just as inexperienced squad as Torin did - save for the two priests -, then he ran over some more complex battle strategies, he repeatedly instructed them, to never show fear or run away, unless ordered. In as uniform and dignified way as possible Torin lead his troops to the opening of the dragons' stronghold, at the very sight, three young men deserted him. Knowing that it was useless to chase them and order them to come back, Torin continued forward...

The opening was surprisingly underguarded, though very disturbing, the suits of armour that protected the skeletons that littered the opening, shook off thier dead host and began attacking the party, of 26.

"Charge!" Torin cried, hoping that his inexperienced warriors could have some practice with the armour. The small battle began, though very disorderly, the youth charged in, apparently forgetting all the strategies Torin had taught them. However, it seemed that most of them knew each other quite well, they worked as a team, and though not seamless, Torin thanked the light for this, because teamwork could not be taught, it had to be earned. They had a field day, the armour crippled before thier blows and soon lay twitching on the ground. Giddy in light of this small victory, impatiently pushing back the urgent thought that he had as the armour fell.

Finally he turned, but only after hearing a vicious war cry, a young man, no older than 19 had donned some of the scattered armour, and was no doubt possessed by the spirit inside. He rushed at one of his former allies, and instictively, the warrior sliced off the head of his mad companion. The horrors of war, these children were too young to see, but so far they had seen, but little, apparently the solidier that lay dead, was well liked by many, including his killer...

Not wanting this to distract his warriors Torin urged forward, a pity priests could heal only body and could do little for the mind, because several warriors were choking back tears and recollecting the horrific experience... After half an hour of climbing the steep mountains that surrounded gilneas and were now home to the blood dragons, they encountered only a few more suits of armour, nothing like one would have expected. Grandis and the other captain, walked beside him, discussing the weak points of dragons, and wether any of thier troops would be able to look a dragon in the eye without fleeing. They continued this way for another 15 minutes, growing less anxious and worried with each passing second. Until suddenly a dark mass leaped out upon them, followed be several others.

What is that, Torin wondered, what the hell is that? The thing that appeared before him, vaguled resembled a dragon, but looked like it had been made by a being who had never seen a dragon, nevermind, knowing how to properly use a chisel. Standing about 12 feet tall, the thing had wings that spanned the size of 15 feet, which were now unfurled, it had massive two foot long claws on his hands, tail , back and feet, which were shining with blood. Unlike most dragon spawns it had only two feet and stood on it's feet, a beast to reckon with. The other masses looked more like dragon spawns and were a bit smaller but stillf quite terrifying.

Not wanting to give his solidiers enough time to truely recognize what the beasts were, he cried

"Charge!" and rushed into battle headlong into the throng. Grandis was by his side before he knew it and the two of them laucned into thier practiced battle squence. It was flawless, each one covered the other, while striking blows and protecting the less inexperienced squad. Soon half of the smaller dragons were either dead or mortally wounded, but the 'thing' still lived. It threw off, 2 solidiers who dared to attack it, minorly scraping one and inflicting what Torin recognized as fatal damage to the other. That was the last straw for Torin, and his partner in battle Grandis, together they charged the field, and rushed towards the beast thier swords held in battle position, while the beast readied it's calls.

"For the light! they cried, and suddenly it was as though something greater spoke and acted through them, for thier weapons grew blinding and they performed moves, of such callibre and power that they had never seen them before, nevermind ever knowing them. Encouraged by this show of power, the rest of the remaining squad, rushed in as well or began challenging the lesser dragons, while the priests called down divine venegenance to strike the enemies.

But, the beast took an insane amount of damage, it seemed as soon as they made a cut it would heal immediately, and no weapon or magic was tough enough to part the beast's head with it's body, it was all they could do to keep it from wreacking havoc upon them, and tearing thier small party to bits. Suddenly hte beasts, spurt fire that roasted one of the solidiers, no doubt killing him instantly, and causing the rest to give him plenty of room, save from Grandis and Torin...

Damn, Torin thought, who made this thing? It was impossible to kill, and it showed considerable magical powers as it now conjured balls of fire, which rained down upon the party scattering all, but the most experienced warriors. However, he raised his sword once more and brought it down, on the beast's neck, hoping that Grandis could cover him. Suddenly it and the surviving dragon spawns, let out terrifying shrieks and began to wither away, dying a agonizingly slow death.

However, this unsettled Torin more that the beast itself had. What had cause such a being of power to die in such a fashion? He had half a mind to climb down the mountain, but he knew this was not an option, so after allowing 20 minutes to recover, Torin ordered the war party further up the continually steepening mountain.

During the climb, the party encountered very little of significance, yes a few small dragons here, a suit of armour there, but nothing like they had just faced, but they found remains of more creatures that looked remarkably like the dragon they had faced, and were now withered and scorched. Whatever, it was Torin and the other experienced warriors agreed that it could not be good. Soon the climb became less steep, but the air was somewhat different, hard to describe, thinner perhaps? It didn't get colder as one would expect when you climb to high altitudes, but in fact it became rather hot. Finally after another half an hour's hike, a plateau appeared on the horizon, the rumoured home of the blood dragons, it mattered not if he met his death there Torin just wanted out of this hell hole. He rushed toward it, as one would rush towards death, but when he peaked his head to look over the cliff, the sight before him shook him to the bone...

The climb ended in a huge plateau, big enough for several hundred troops to fit in with considerable space between them. Several corpses littered the ground, and Torin saw that there was an enormous cave on the farther end of the mountain. It glowed radiantly and Torin could just make out several oval shaped looking stones. The entire plateau looked as though it belonged to a volcano as opposed to a small mountain, several cracks gushed with boiling lava and spurted searing flame. Several rocky crags extruded from the black surface. Lying on it, was a mutilated and bleeding dragon, the size of which was undescribable, Torin had seen mountain giants and sea giants reaching 20-40 feet tall, but the dragon before him dwarfed them all, it's wing span was no doubt over 130 feet, and were it to stand in all it's glory on it's hind legs, Torin thought it would easily reach a 80 feet or more. It was gushing blood at an enormous rate through it's neck, obviously still concious, in pain and enraged, it tried to spurt fire through it's mutilated snout. No doubt they would have met thier end on the mountain had not something or someone slew it.

The next sight Torin saw nearly stopped his heart. For standing triumphantly near the dragon floated a lich, a servant of ner'zhul, and at least 40 various undead, while many other bodies, both dragon and undead were scattered across, the plateau, obviously they were waiting for it to die and to claim it's gold. However, the lich appeared to be chanting a spell of great power, and a thought that gave him goosebumps throughout his entire body occured to Torin, what if they raised these gigantic and allpowerful dragons and turned them into wyrns, dead lifeless corpses of dragons brought back to life and held together by the might and will of the lich king. Torin shuddered to think what the scourge would be capable of with such a monster on it's side...

Secretly and very deep down, Torin had been relieved, he had not been assigned to fighting the dead. The few battles Torin had encountered with the dead, had permenantly scarred him. For when you fight the scourge, you fight the battle all the time, not only on the battlefield, but in your mind, and if you did not have the self-confidence to carry the battle on, at any given time, you were as good as dead. Torin had seen many companions wasting away, not even trying to fight it, not trying to overcome the dead, but just accepting the reality and he had been scared to death that the same would happen to him. He knew his inexperienced warriors could not hope to fight and win against such numbers, but he could not bear to fail and pass on this nightmare to the next twelve year old who could barely hold a sword. If he did, Torin knew that he would have no peace in the grave.

"For the light!" Torin cried, charging ahead determined to shield his less experienced warriors from these lifeless horrors. He shouted orders, spreading his group out, ordering the priests to either try and revive a dead body, or bless thier corpses so the vile powers of the necromancers could not touch it. Yet he kept his head clear, strategies and tactics flew across his mind, as he dismissed each one, in a battle such as this it would be courage not tactics that would win or lose the battle. He took aim at a small progressing ghoul first, cleanly slicing off it's head, but as only a disembodied member of the scourge could do, the ghoul's severed head began biting, hoping to catch some unwray victim. Squashing the head beneath his heel, Torin's party progressed forward, mostly ghouls and skeleton, relatively easy, but Torin knew they had much more...

A wayward scream informed Torin that one of his members had been wounded, not mortally and porbably the priests will have just finished healing the boy. However, Torin had other things to worry about, no doubt the lich had enough toying about and sent in the real forces, for towering in front of him was a 8 foot tall abomination. It looked particularily gruesome, and seemed as though it had been sewed together very recklessly with a few mutilated corpses, it's mouth formed what Torin thought to be a cruel smile, though he couldn't tell, it could just be that the akward gash across the thing's face was just another one of its scars that pockmarked its body. All this Torin had time to take in, before he was rammed by 300 pounds of pure rotting muscle, the abomination no doubt packed a punch...

Torin was thrown backwards at a tremendous rate, coming to a halt only when he crashed into one of his solidiers. He quickly got to his feet and surveryed the damage, a few of his plates were cutting into his body, but it seemed as though nothing was broken. He charged again, soon coming face to face with what he presumed to be the same beast he had met before, but then again they all looked the same, for as Torin glanced across the battlefield about ten of the things were charging his troops. About two of his own had fallen, but the priests had just finished reviving both of them, the undead had about 8-10 dead, but with such numbers that hardly mattered...

Determined not to get destroyed once more, Torin began confusing the beast, evading and parrying his attacks with expert grace, now and then striking some of the beast's vital parts, with moves that he had picked up as a mercenary. However, the thing just shrugged it off and continued melee combat, and Torin knew that no ordinary sword would be able to slay the creature. Suddenly he spotted a crack in the uneven battlefield through which lava seeped out, hoping by the light that his sword was strong enough, Torin dipped it into the boiling liquid, and then plunged it right into where he assumed the beast kept its heart or hearts. The effect was unbelivable, the thing shrieked and withered as though inside itself all hell had broken loose. The most amazing thing being, that once Torin procured his sword from the thing, it appeared to have melted, at least the blade was badly bent and dented, but as it appeared from it's victim's body, covered in a black sickly liquid, that Torin assumed to be blood, the blade righted itself and became as good as new...

Words could not describe Torin's shock, either the lava was enchanted (quite a possibility, giving the volatile history of the area) or it was by the light that the sword recovered, if so never had he seen the light interfere with the works of mortal men as it did now. In short barks, Torin ordered the rest of the his ever shrinking troop to do same, but by then he had lost three others and the priests had not the mana to revive them. The next 15 mminutes were a blur, as the undead continually raised skeleton waves after waves along with waves of abominations. What bothered Torin the most was that the general commanding the army, did not seem the last bit perturbed by the miracles that thier swords played over and over again, and the fact that such youngsters usually did not possess such courage. In fact if you were to look at him and his commanders, you wouldn't be able to tell that a battle was going on...

Torin found out why soon, for in another minute just when what seemed was the last waves of the abominations and another 3 of his solidiers lay dead, the small part in charge, consisiting of the general, three lieutenants, and three necromancers. Among thier number were also 2 large beastly looking creatures, Torin recalled stories of his youth detailing the enormous centaurs that were said to thrive across the world, all of the stories of course were aimed at making him behave as a youth, but Torin still held a certain respect for the creatures in his stories. In any case the things before certainly resembled the centaur, but it seemed as though all thier skin had been peeled off and now they consisted of only rotting exposed flesh and bones. Thier limbs were also in somewat disarray, quite obviously they had been taken from different corpses and sewn together as the ambominations were, but Torin knew that 3 hands and 4 hooves were not a disadvantage in battle, quite the opposite really....

Then they charged, and Torin recalled the horrific battles in which he had been part of in the past, they were merciless pushing back his small troupe with powerful strikes and unique moves. Torin had never witnessed such a display of swordsplay as he and Grandis, took on the general himself. Though they worked together seamlessly, reading each others minds and hearts, the duo as the rest of the team were quite obviously no match for the seasoned undead fighters, all the while the lich it appeared was finishing up his incantation...

Suddenly Torin had a sharp contrast, the corrupted necromancers performing vicious and demented spells of violence, while his priests continually called upon divine powers to help them aid thier fighters... Torin knew for a fact that demons avoided holy ground, and more than one were known to wither before a blessed sword. Maybe, just maybe this would be the same...

Gripping his sword tighter, Torin barked an order, the priests were to bless the weapons with which his warrios fought with, and the armour that defended them. Blessings were often avoided in battle, for it often lowered the effectiveness of a weapon, and some of the pain inflicted upon the enemy, sometimes rebounded upon a particularily weak or inexperienced wielder. It was do or die, and praying to the light Torin drove his now blessed sword into the general's thigh...

The effect was instant, the general screamed and withered before him, struggling to remove the sword from his body. It took every bit of resolve and determination to keep his weapon steady and drive it deeper, and Torin was shaking from the effort, he would pass out soon if he kept it up much longer. Around him he heard screams that undoubedly belonged to his solidiers, that simply could not take it, but around him, he heard the scourge fall, the centaur like creatures were the first telling from the heavy thuds they made as they hit the rocky floor. This Torin knew from his ears only, his eyes were closed, but Torin knew that he was going to pass out, darkness was eating at the corners of the red light that he saw through his eyelids, and then Torin Brightsteel saw no more...

I shall rate it as soon as my head stops hurting from all the reading.

well i've got to write it don't I? another 3 or so more parts of that... i wasn't very happy with the conclusion to the battle though, might change it...