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77th Chapter

when heroes fail

And they came from thick clouds as if borne by the thunders that ravaged the sky around them.
Hundred strange blue creatures clumsily riding hippogryphs and gryphons, wielding hammers and swords made of purple crystals.
With frostwind, teddy and rusynja in front, they charged at the undead air force
The storm broke behind them for a second, bathing the force in sunlight,higlighting the draenei as they charged towards the undead airforce.
Light against dark, they clashed above manvalas.
The draenei were not fitted for this kind of aerial combat and fell fast againts the gargolyles and the wyrms.
But they held fast and even dying draenei kept slashing towards the undead.
Holy ligths flashed all around them hitting the undead heavily, each flash of light leaving them heavily weakened or even disintegrated.
And behind them, from the stormy cloud came the force of nature, hippogryphs and gryphons screeching, followed by thousands of smaller birds.
Tales have been told of that battle in the sky, how the gryphons roared so that cholars in ashenvale heard, of how the hippogryphs tore a wyrm asunder , bone by bone , in mere seconds,how the air had suddenly filled with carcasses of gargoyles and destroyers, how the bones of wyrms still litter the valley today and of their curses.
But what really happened was that the air force was torn apart under continous light assaults from the dranei riders and the fierce assaults from the kings of the sky.
And below them the force of nature had suddenly been revitalized and turned retreat into advance.
Led by the infernals , bashing through the undead ranks, a group of bears had charged, ripping everything apart.
the druids saw the tide turning and screamed at the pillar: now manvalas give the signal. Send the centaurs.
No response. The bear charge was slowing down and the infernals were slowly falling.
Starbreeze lightsong, one of the few remaining high druid ripped his eyes from the pillar and said: to hell with him, i’m sending the signal.
He raised his hand and cast a green bolt to the sky.
The lone bolt shone brightly in the sky, giving the centaurs the signal they had so long been waitin for.
Behind the mountains of talonbranch glade they gave a great roar, shook their spears and armor and began the charge.
Two thousand strong, armed and armored to the teeth the charged directly in a triangle formation to the undead flank.
It was a massive sight. Two thousand centaurs chopped their way through the ranks, running over those who were not slashed down, killing everyone in view.
It was terrible, it was bloody, it was glorius.
With their charge they cut through the army, cleaving it in two.
The undead were suffering massive blows, although the last infernals had been felled there were still massive holes in their lines and their army had just been cleft in two.
The druids were charging, the undead were retreating, the druids thought amongst themselves: we’re winning! We’re winning! The undead thought nothing at all.
But the air force was down ,the land army was slowly being chopped away, the undead host was defeated, the battle was over.
Arthas stood up, a smile running down his face, he lift up frostmourne and said some unintelligible words of power.
The world seemed to darken, night seemed to grow out of arthas as he spoke and his words echoed deeply all around.
In felwood, All could hear it and despaired.
There was a shift in every single dead body on the battlefield, undead or just dead.
And they rose, some with hesitation and anquish, Others with will and decisive movements. But they all rose, most of the doestroyed ondead force and most of natures host that had been killed. Some bodies were to mutilated to rise as warriors and were taken for the abomination,used to fill up holes or clue halves together.
And sworddevil rose, with the torso of a bear, heads and hands of a night elf, the arms of an owlbear and the feet of a tauren.
He grabbed the hand of a nearby zombie,a night elf woman with an open headwound.
Her jaw hung loose and her skin was already going grey, but her dead eyes still bore a spark of life, a soul stuck inside the body. A powersource to make it easier to control the body.
Sworddevil hoisted himself up, wiping blood from his hands on the zombies emotionless face and said with a grin: “hello puppet”. He looked her in the eyes, directly in the eyes. “Ready for round two?”

The valley that was fill with cheers and roars of victory soon fell prey to screams of horror and retreat.
FALL BACK!
HE’S GOT MY LEG HE’S GOT MY LEG.
RETREAT, FORM A LINE!
They ran away, leaving their stations running behind the petrified ancients.
Fleeing behind the pillar of mud to the hills behind.
The undead didn’t follow, slowly, patiently, they formed columns, battle lines cohorts and teams.
Even the air force wasn’t safe from the suddenly spawned zombies wielding bows and arrows.
bears and centaurs,deers and wildcats,ancients and owlbears gathered upset.

Manvalas put his hands on his pillar and felt the ground, felt it moving ,breathing and breaking apart. he focused on the stones, rearranged them and molded them into spikes.
starlight shone from beyond the clouds.a force of nature healing wounds,
his eyes glowed green with concentration, the pillar trembled with the energy flowing through it.
spikes were formed all over the the valley.
Manvalas was trembling, moving stones through the ground took a lot of energy and concentration. that infernal stunt had also taken a lot out of him.
But it wasn't enough he knew. his troops needed a respite. they needed to heal to gather their strength.
he looked deep within himself and the nature he was controlling and forced even more energy upwards, deep from the ground to rise to his allies, a green energy healing and helping every being that was trying to rally against the enemy.
the columns were formed. the lines had been drawn. the undead force was even bigger than ever, now including the fallen druids and their companions.
manvalas was almost ready, the spikes would eliminate the undead again.i wouldnðt be enough but maybe it would buy them enough time.
but manvalas didn't know what to do with that time.
the battle was lost. with arthas and the necromancers at their side the undead force couldn't be beaten on a leveled battlefield.

the lich king was more of a magical creaure than a mortal. he could feel the streams of magic as they flowed through the world. he could see every magical trick that was done in fornt of him, how it was done and how to stop it.
He stood up took his sword from its sheath raised it up high and screamed at manvalas:
“YOUR TRICKS WILL WORK NO MORE.”
he struck the sword down in the ground letting loose a near invisible an anti magic shell that expanded and encircled the entire valley.
the shield stopped all magic, except for his own, and suddenly manvalas lost all contact with the earth. the spikes stayed still under the ground. and now he was defenseless.
the pillar still stood but he was trapped.
now, at last the battle was over. no magic, no nature, no hope.
but he didn't care.
“to hell with it” he said and rose up. “i don't care wether it will count but i will gladly give my life for this wretched valley. ”
a lightning sparked behind him.
the undead were on the move.
manvalas stood high atop a pillar of mud and stones, raising his staff and hand towards the enemy behiind the petrifiied ancients.
the host of nature was rallying under his commands.
arthas sat comfortably as he saw the latest pieces join the puzzle.
And Exen'tor finally gazed his eyes upon the battle of irontree woods.
“there we” are ankthar said as gruff as an elven voice can be.
“and its about bloody time.”