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WarCraft: The Saga Continues: Chapter 1Prologue
WarCraft: The Saga Continues, takes place after the storyline of the WarCraft II Expansion Set: Beyond the Dark Portal. Khadgar has escaped from Draenor through mystical energies beyond mortal comprehension, and a new King has been appointed in the land of Azeroth to take the place of the fallen Lord Lothar.
PRELUDE
The final battle between Man and Orc raged for days in the country of Kul’Teras, neither side seeming to be capable of getting ahead in any way.
Finally, the Archmage Khadgar, who had been sitting idly by, watching death slowly engulf him, made a decision to come from his neutral stance, and fight back. He built up all that was in him to cast a single spell that would end this war forever, with the noble Humans as the victors. He raised his hands, and closed his eyes. He re-opened them, and a horrifying glow in his eyes made Man and Orc alike run in fear. The sky went dark. A blinding flash filled the sky. Then, everything was silent. The sound of clashing swords and battle cries had ceased. Both races had stopped fighting and turned their attention to the twisting and churning nether that was the sky.
Silence.
Suddenly, the sky opened up, releasing large flaming stones that fell upon the unprepared warriors below. The stones fell fast, faster than gravity would allow, as if they were being thrown. Orcs all over the battle field were being struck, killed instantly, and they seemed to... melt. They were left as bubbling puddles of ooze. Orcs were running for their lives, hoping with all that they were, that they would not be the next to be struck.
Hundreds of Orcs had been killed, but hundreds remained. The flaming stones stopped falling. Khadgar opened his mouth, and threw his head back, staring into the blackened and scorched sky. The sun was now but a distant memory. He let out a cry that would send the bravest man to his knees, weeping in terror. Another bright flash filled the sky. Silence once more. Nothing. Silence.
Then, again, the sky opened, and bolts of, what seemed to be lightning, attacked the ground fiercely. This lightning was different, however, for it seemed to be composed of a bright glowing fire, that struck many more Orcs, instantly rendering them smoldering piles of black ash.
The lightning stopped, and Khadgar collapsed to the blood-stained earth. His mages ran to him, and used their combined magicks to attempt to save his life, but their efforts were in vain. He had made the ultimate sacrifice to save his brethren.
The few hundred remaining Orcs, realizing they were now helplessly outnumbered, retreated with great haste. The grief-stricken King ordered that they be allowed to go, and should not be followed. Enough blood had been shed that day...
The surviving humans fled to the remains of Storm Wind Keep in their homeland of Lordaeron, across the Great Sea. The Orcish Hordes, far too crippled to follow, were left behind in Kul’Teras. The war was over for the Humans...
If only they knew...
Chapter One
“My friends, and fellow warriors,” began the King, “we have accomplished an amazing feat! We have triumphed over the once-mighty Orcish Horde! Let us raise our glasses, and toast to our comrades-at-arms!”
The thousands at this gathering lifted their glasses to toast with their mighty ruler. Jesters were jesting, musicians were playing, and dancers were dancing. It was an incredible celebration. The sun was high in the sky on this beautiful, warm, cloudless, and... fateful day.
Through the laughter and singing came an ear-piercing scream, echoing throughout the crowd. The music stopped, and the King jumped to his feet so quickly, he almost knocked over his throne, and dropped his crown.
A woman near hysterics, came staggering through the crowd. Unable to speak, she pointed toward the horizon, across the Great Sea. The King swung around to look, and gasped in fear, for hundreds of sea faring vessels, clearly of Orcish design, were advancing on the gala.
The crowd broke out in an uncontrollable panic. People were running, and tripping over each other. Women were screaming, children were crying, the Orcs were drawing nearer.
The King was desperately trying to get control of his Generals, and have them rally their troops for battle. The crowd had almost totally cleared the beach, and were replaced by hundreds of footmen, archers, knights, paladins, ballistae, and mages. The Orcs were within arrow range. Troll Axe Throwers from the ships, began throwing their axes. A black cloud of whirring axes moved through the air. Footmen and knights were the ones hit by this attack, as they were the frontal defense. Immediately, arrows flew towards the ships in retaliation, but had little effect, killing only a handful of Orcs.
Axes continued to fly as the war ships landed on the beach. Doors flew open, and Orc grunts, and Ogres came storming out, cutting down men where they stood. The battle of Kul’Teras was beginning again, but this time it looked as if the Orcs had the upper hand. Orcs were falling everywhere, but humans fell faster. The main defensive line was almost wiped out, the Archers were on their own.
The Archers were quickly overwhelmed, and wiped out. The humans were losing to the Orcish Hordes.
The Orcs had taken the beach, and were ravaging the surrounding countryside. The King, and his generals were madly planning a way to survive this onslaught. But, every conclusion they came to, was to use magic. Khadgar was dead, they did not have a mage near as powerful as he. The King summoned his Chief Mage and asked him what he thought about the whole situation. The Chief Mage, named Khardaazel, spoke, “My friends, as you know, the Orcish Horde is ravaging out beautiful lands. They need to be stopped! But, alas, our military is seemingly unable to handle this task, and-”
“I resent that,” interrupted the Head General, known only as “sir” or “Commander-in-Chief.”
“You didn’t let me finish,” the mage went on.
“Then, hurry up. Time is not our ally,” pressed the commander.
“All in good time.”
“I just said-,”
“I know what you said, but if you would be quiet for one moment-”
“No, I will not be quiet! I out rank you, so if anyone should-”
“Oh, give it a rest, would you, commander!” roared the King.
“Yes sir,” he replied like a three year old child being scolded.
“Good, now continue, Khar,” the King said apologetically.
“Thank you, and I would appreciate if you would use my full name, not just K-”
“Yes, yes, duly noted, just go on.”
“Yes sir,” said Khardaazel, clearly hurt. “We, the magi of this land, have come to a conclusion on how to solve this problem.”
“You have!?”
“Let me finish,” the Mage went on.
“Yes, yes, please go on!” urged the King.
“Thank you. Now, as I was saying, we have discovered a solution to our Orc problem. And, yes, it does involve magick.”
“But, Khadgar is gone, we haven’t spells strong enough to attempt a full scale assault using it, and only it,” said the King.
“Yes, but before Khadgar’s tragic demise, he logged all of his knowledge in a sacred tome, and sent it to the far off land that has no name. The land ruled by Teron Gorefiend and his undead army.”
“Are you saying what I think your saying?” inquired the King.
“If you think I’m saying that we should send someone to get the book, or tome, rather, then yes, I’m saying what you think I’m saying,” replied Khardaazel with a comical tone.
“Well, that’s an excellent plan, but like I said before, ‘time is not our ally,’ we don’t have time for an escapade in the land of the dead!” roared the Commander-in-chief. “My armies are diminishing! They will not hold off that long! We need a plan that we can enact now!”
“My Order of Magi has agreed to enchant your men with a mystical strength and level of endurance. That way, your army size will decrease slower and the Orcish armies faster. As well, they will cast a mystical aura over the city, preventing the Orcs from passing the city gates. They, of course, will not be able to keep this up indefinitely, but it will buy us a fair bit more time.”
“Ingenious!” the King exalted.
Khardaazel closed his eyes, and lowered his head, as if in deep thought. As he stood upright, and opened his eyes, he asked that everyone glance out the window, for at that moment, Magi from all over the city had stopped what they were doing, looked up, and pointed to the sky. Energy flowing from their fingertips headed onward and upward. It looked as if many little rivers of brilliant colors were floating into the sky, and merging. The energy ceased flowing, and the tails of colour that were still floating moved into the sphere that flowed and rippled like water, but wasn’t. The ball started to glow, brighter, and brighter. It was soon brighter than the sun, and everyone within Lordaeron, and even those in parts of surrounding countries, had to shield their eyes. The light suddenly vanished. It had spread itself over the whole of the city. Human-kind could walk through it uninhibited, but no Orcs, or anything of Orcish design could penetrate it.
“Generals, order all of your men into the city. No need for more death while there is this haven of protection!” said the Commander, much authority in his voice.
“Yes sir,” the three Generals responded almost simultaneously, and stormed out of the room, very quickly.
“Now, who is qualified for such a quest?” asked the King, as he and the Commander glanced at the Chief Mage, clearly implying they both would like him to do it.
Khardaazel, obviously taking the hint, “I suppose I’ll volunteer, or should I say that I was volunteered-”
“Good work, I knew I could rely on you, Khar,” said the King, seeming very pleased with himself for making such a hilarious joke. “Now, pack your things, and buy what you need, you leave immediately.”
“I can’t wait,” the sarcastic Mage, replied.
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