Chapter 6: Volume 1: Interlude 1
Lost Lion
Disclaimer! I don't own warcraft, it is the property of blizzard.
Volume 1: Interlude 1
*** Stormwind City***
"Make safe the city!" Lothar, the renown Lion of Azeroth, roared and, in return, heard his Brotherhood Knights' rallying cry.
"RARGHH!" A muscular greenskin charged at him with a menacing roar, the creature's axe held high. At the same time, out of the corner of his eye, another greenskin lunged at him from behind.
In one fluid motion, Lothar tugged on his rein twice and his horse instantly reared its body up and threw its full might onto the greenskin in front of them. The hooves pounded the green beast's chest and knocked it down on its back.
Lothar then kicked both of his heels on his warhorse's sides. His horse immediately stomped down–finishing the greenskin on the ground–and kicked out his hind legs at Lothar's rear attacker. The greenskin flew a few feet away from the impact, hitting the floor in a daze.
Several of the green creatures got closer during this short time, seeking to pull him down from his stallion. Unsheathing his elven runeblade, Ashkandi, Lothar stabbed the first one through its chest before decapitating the second one with a swift slash.
The rest didn't even have a chance to attack as his brethren thundered through on either side of him, rendering foolhardy orcs into ribbons and paste. The full might of the Brotherhood of the Horse was fully displayed as they waded through the greenskin forces, killing anything they could. Unlike the knights in the regular army, the Brotherhood knights were one with their mounts, always moving and attacking in unison while covering each other blind spot.
The fury of the Brotherhood's attack took the savage greenskins by surprise and, combined with the rallied forces of the Royal Guards, they soon broke the greenskins apart.
It was a small trickle at first with one of the green beastmen running, but with more and more following, it wasn't long before it became a flood.
"Attan, take two thousands of our brothers and chase them. Give them no quarter!" Lothar ordered, watching as one of his brothers nodded in response.
"First and second cohort! With me!" Attan shouted as he blew on a war horn. Two thousand Brotherhood knights broke off from Lothar's forces and began the chase.
With the main greenskin force routed, Lothar rode into the city. Signs of the hard fighting could be seen with the corpses of men wearing gray and blue armor plates mixed in with the green corpses. Blood, both red and green, intermingled in a horrific manner.
It wasn't until Lothar reached the main trade district that he breathed a sigh of relief. His old friend, Llane, was at the front with the city defender. Dead greenskin along with fallen royal guardsmen littered the ground all around him.
"Prince Llane!" Lothar shouted as the royal guards began clearing up the stragglers. He immediately got off his horse and clasped his old friend's arms in greeting.
However, his friend did not look happy at all; his expression was tainted by pain and sadness. Lothar knew something was wrong, but before he could ask one of the royal guardsmen, Sir Robert spoke up.
"It's King Llane now, Lord Lothar," the guardsman informed him. "King Adamant died in the attack when the greenskins breached the city."
Lothar quickly looked at Llane who merely nodded his head.
"This is not the time for mourning," King Llane Wrynn told his old friend. "There will be time enough to grieve, my friend, for all enough to grieve but not now."
Lothar could hear steel in his friend's words and felt proud that, even with the loss of the old king, his friend retained his composure.
"What are your orders, my king?" Lothar asked immediately.
"Once the royal guards regroup, I intend to pursue the enemy and make them pay." Llane's voice was hard. Lothar understood though; he too was currently fueled by the wrath of vengeance.
"You will not be alone. I had pulled ten legions from our southwest territories to close the net on these green-skinned demons," Lothar informed his friend.
"Good. I got a message from Lakeshire that three Stonewatch legions are a few days out. We'll group up with them and strike from the north. Between our two forces along with the Brotherhood's knights, we'll make them regret ever setting foot in our lands!" Llane shouted.
"Glory to Stormwind and his Majesty, King Llane!" the royal guard next to Llane shouted before all the other guardsmen followed suit.
"As you will it, my king." Lothar grinned. "I shall secure the surrounding area while you regroup the city defenses."
"Wait, my friend," Llane said, looking uncomfortable. "There were more written on Stonewatch Keep's missive beside troops movement."
Lothar was a bit puzzled.
"What is it?"
"They sent all of their cavalry forces to relieve the pressure on Stormwind City."
King Llane looked at his friend with sympathy in his eyes.
"Callan was with the relief force."
Lothar was stunned. Callan was a footman the last he heard. What was he doing with the cavalry?
"There's more. One of our scout towers saw the greenskins' mounted forces leave in their direction several hours later."
Llane knew what it was like to be a father. If his son was in danger, there would be nothing he wouldn't do to keep him safe.
"Take the remaining Brotherhood knights and go to your son, my friend. Leave the clean up here to me and the city guards."
Lothar shot his friend a grateful look while an old terror he had not felt since nineteen years ago began to creep into his heart.
"I'll leave five hundred–"
"No." Llane firmly shook his head. "Take them all. I command it."
"Yes, my king." Lothar bowed his head in acknowledgment. "And thank you, my friend."
"Brothers, to me!" Lothar took out his own war horn and sounded the notes to gather them. Without needing to look back, he knew that his brothers knights were behind him as he rode hard east.
Even after all these years, Lothar still felt keenly the loss of his wife, and because of that, he did wrong by Callan. He was not the father he should have been, but it did not help that Callan reminded him so much of the love of his life. The boy had her free spirit and while his people told Lothar that his son Callan was the splitting image of him, Lothar knew better. He could make out Cally's softer features in the boy's face, especially her eyes. The boy was more his mother than Lothar's himself.
"He'll be safe, Lothar." One of his brother knights tried to reassure him. Evidently, Llane had gotten word to the remaining Brotherhood.
They rode in silence for the next two hours as they pushed their mount hard. By this time, they could hear the sounds of combat echoing through the forest. Lothar turned to the knight on his right and saw the man nodded.
The Brotherhood did not need to shout or change formation. They intended to crash into whatever enemy they saw, hard and fast.
'Light or any powers above, if there is still good in the world, please let my boy be safe!' Lothar whispered a prayer and finally saw the battlefield. The first thing that he noticed was that there were a lot of dead horses. However, his tactical mind kicked in right away.
Lothar's eyes took in the greenskin beastmen on giant wolves, engaged in numerous clashes against the surrounded Stonewatch forces. Lothar estimated about maybe five hundred Stonewatch soldiers were all that were still left fighting. Surprisingly, they still looked fresh, full of vigor in a way that Lothar didn't think was possible, especially for men that had been in constant combat for such a long period of time.
Lothar saw one of the brown beastmen with a white wolf pelt on his head notice the Brotherhood's arrival. The brown skinned beastman immediately ordered a good size of his force to attack the newly arrived , just before they could clash, he spotted who he was looking for. The sight almost made him lose his senses.
There was his son, whose helmet was off, draped limply on a horse and another Stormwind soldier, a young woman, who was guarding his body in a very protective manner.
"CALLAN!"
Fury and desperation fueled Lothar as he cut down all wolves and beastmen that got in between him and his son. Such was his attacks that many of the greenskins decided to pick other targets rather than engage him. It wasn't long before he made it to his son.
"Lord Lothar?!" the female soldier asked in disbelief.
However, Lothar ignored her and took off his own helmet so that he could see his son unobstructed. He was almost afraid to hold the boy before his courage forced him to check on his son's well-being.
Lothar's heart constricted when he saw dried blood from his son's mouth, nose, eyes, and ears. Even the armor that Callan wore looked corroded. He quickly took it off his son's body to get the foul residue away from him.
'Please, Light, any god, please let my son be well.' Lothar thought as he cradled his son and checked his vitals for a heartbeat.
Thump. Thump.
"Thank the Light," Lothar whispered in relief. He was cut off from his thoughts when a loud cheer was heard and the horn of victory sounded. He looked up and saw the giant wolves and their riders escaping into the forest.
Yet, all that mattered in this moment for the fame Champion of Stormwind was that he did not fail his wife.
'I'll do a better job and keep him safe, Cally. I promise.'
*** The Black Morass- Three Weeks Later ***
The sky was beginning to set, casting a red hue much like the orc home. And like their home a giant stone structure was being erected and in its shadow were peons working hard on building various structures.
Durotan walked into the almost finished Stronghold of the Blackrock clan. Almost immediately, he was assaulted by the bickering of his fellow chieftain and the foul Warlock, Gul'dan.
"Durotan, there you are," Blackhand growled upon seeing him. The other chieftain turned to look at the Frostwolf chieftain angrily.
"Where were you? Why are you only arriving now?"
"Explain yourself, Durotan!" One of the chieftains from a minor clan and a firm supporter of Gul'Dan demanded.
"Yes, it was because you were away with our wolf riders that their mounted forces had an advantage over us!" another one of Gul'dan's lick spittle minor chieftain demanded.
Durotan ignored them both; they were beneath him. He looked to the one who really mattered: Kilrogg of the Bleeding Hollow Clan, the ogre leader Cho'gall, and finally, Blackhand.
"It took time for me to evade the pinkskins," Durotan explained calmly before he turned to Gul'dan. "They were not as weak as you said they were."
The major chieftains' turned to stare at the warlock, Ner'zhul former apprentice. It was then that they remembered that it was Gul'dan who pushed for them to attack early, and that it was him who promised that the enemies were too weak to stand against the Horde.
"That is..." Gul'dan began but trailed off when he saw the accusation on the other chieftains' faces.
"No matter. Once the rest of the Blackrock and Bleeding Hollow clans arrive, we'd have three times the numbers and sweep them away like gnats!"
There was some grumbling among the major chieftains, but they were eager to go into combat again. The humiliating defeat only fueled their lust for battle and for revenge.
"I wouldn't be so sure of that," Durotan spoke once again. He saw the look of hatred Gul'dan shot at him. Ignoring the warlock, he instead turned to the rest of the chieftains.
"Explain yourself Durotan," Blackhand growled. "Did these pathetic pinkskin scare the mighty Frostwolf Chieftain?"
Bellowing mocking laughter, led by Blackhand, permeated the room.
"I did not take you for a coward, Durotan! You are no true orc!" The lick-spittle chieftain sneered.
"Durotan is ten times the orc you are," Orgrim Doomhammer, his friend, and Blackhand right hand man growled at the smaller clan chieftain.
"That…" the lick spittle chieftain was cowed right away when Doomahammer's hand rested on his famed weapon and namesake.
"I am sure that Durotan would tell us why he thinks so, right?" Doomhammer nodded to his friend and stepped back.
Durotan nodded in thanks to his friend before turning to look at Gul'dan and the rest of the orcs.
"Not only are they not weak like some charlatan promised us." Durotan's implication was clear who it was, but Gul'dan could only endure it. "But I found out they wield the same power as the Draenei."
There was stunned silence at the fact. The Draenei were the deadliest enemies of the orcs. They had even cut off their shaman powers and banished their ancestors somehow. The Horde were nearly defeated by the advanced yet secretive blueskinned beings.
"Are you certain?" Blackhand asked. No more was his manner lax or mocking but completely serious.
"Yes." Durotan looked at the current leader of the Horde. "Before my eyes, the force we chased, a thousand strong, was imbued with the Draenei's golden magicks. Their wounds healed before our eyes, and they fought us as if they had not been chased the entire day."
Blackhand made eye contact. "You would stake your life on this?"
"Durotan is no liar, warchief. He does not tell tall tales either." Doomhammer came to his friend's defense. "If he says they are using Draenei's magicks, then they are using Draenei's magicks."
Everyone in the room looked at Blackhand who remained silent for a full minute.
"Then it is clear what we have to do," Blackhand finally said as he looked at Gul'dan. "We need to bring the full might of the Horde over here."
Everyone was surprised by Blackhand's declaration, but pretty soon, they began to cheer. After the defeat of the Draenei, the Horde went its separate ways. Only Blackhand, the Blackrock Clan, and a few of the other larger clans stuck together to make up the current Horde. Durotan remained not only to support his friend, Orgrim Doomhammer, but also to keep an eye on Gul'dan.
"We will bring the full might of the Horde here and drown them with our numbers!"
"Warchief Blackhand, I'll fight with you!"
"Blackhand! Blackhand! Blackhand!"
Durotan sighed as the others roared in agreement. He had had three weeks to think about things as he evaded the pinkskins covered in metal. He was still repulsed by what happened with the Draenei and, for a brief moment, entertained the thought of not telling the others about what he saw that one human did. However, he left his honor behind him a long time ago for the good of his clan and fellow orcs. He betrayed the Draenei's trust in him, people he knew and respected. It was easier in some respect since he knew nothing of these humans.
It would not be long before the full Horde made their way through Gul'dan's portal. The presence of Draenei's magicks demanded nothing less. When it came down to it, Durotan's loyalty was to his fellow orcs and that trumped his mercy for the other races. He would gather more self-hatred within himself, but at least his clan would still be alive, his family healthy and his son's future secured, and that was all that mattered to him.
TBC…
AN: Thanks for the feedback! This is a 'Meanwhile from other POV's' type chapter. Next chapter back to SI-Callan and the slow disturbance of what should be canon.