Flight of the Hammer

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The sounds of explosions awoke Gorvar from his unconscious state. The orc got up, trying to regain his sense, a impossible task with the chaos going on around him. He opened his eyes, his vision assaulted by the sights of war. Bodies littered the deck, be it Orc or troll or even goblin. He adjusted his wolf helmet and checked for any weak spots on his mail armour, finding none. Strange gray skinned beings with wings swooped down on the defenders of the ship, who despite the losses were holding their own. Gorvar looked down, noticing his bow laying on the ground. He picked it up and felt for the arrows in his quiver, automatically firing at the creatures, hitting one in the wing, causing it to crash on the deck. A howl erupted below decks as a big black furred wolf appeared from below decks, jumping on the creature, biting it’s neck. The gray creature screeched loudly as it’s green blood flew around. The Orc grinned at the sight, grateful his friend was here. ‘Incoming Scourge airship, east!’ a harsh female voice sounded behind him. Gorvar immediately glanced east, seeing the large dark dirigible with a skeleton as it’s stern. The deck was filled with skeletal warriors, armed to the teeth with swords, knives and shields. Gorvar reached for one of his arrows....but soon realised they were all spend. He cast his bow and quiver aside on a safe spot, grabbing his one handed axes from his sides. A Gargoyle, for that was the gray skinned flyers name, swooped in, but was soon struck by the Orc’s axes. ‘Turn the ship around!’ the same harsh female voice sounded. He turned around, seeing said female busy fighting a Gargoyle alongside the ship’s captain. Both their heavy armour, Horde tabard and weapons covered in green blood. The captain, a orc by the name of Korm Blackscar, withdrew his axe from a slain gargoyle. ‘Head to starboard and shoot the ship out of the sky!’ he shouted. The female, a brown skinned orc, a Mag’har, by the name of Mulga, soon repeated the order but at a higher volume, the ship effectively turning around. ‘Prepare the canons!’ she shouted above the noise. ‘Hang on!’

Another explosion rocked the ship, sending Gorvar falling to the deck. The ship turned, causing Gorvar and others to slip off, sending a few less fast warriors off the ship....into the battlefield down below. Gorvar slammed his axe into the wooden deck, holding on to it, watching the battle down below. He saw the Argent Crusade and Ebon Blade banners advancing on the frozen soil against the massive undead host. The ship straightened, the peons below loading the canons as the Scourge dirigible approached. ‘FIRE!’ Mulga shouted, the canons below deck firing into the scourge vessel. The Scourge ship caught flame immediately, burning the skeletons but they still were ready to jump when the ship came close enough. ‘Reavers, get ready!’

Gorvar held his axes ready, joining up with the few remaining Horde warriors. He glanced at the battered veterans, finding comfort in the fact, if they die here, it would be for a good cause, a honourable cause. The orc growled softly, glaring at the flaming zeppelin flying right towards them despite the cannonballs blowing massive chunks of rotten wood and saronite plates off. ‘Pull up!’ Korm shouted, the roder soon followed by Mulga shouting it in a hole of sorts leading down to Chief engineer Coperclaw’s engine room below decks. The ship raised slowly, a bit to slowly for Gorvar, continuously hailing down fire upon the ship. The dirigible was close, the skeletons jumped over. They crawled to the above deck, their weapons at the ready, but they did not count on Horde courage. With a mighty battle cry Gorvar and the reavers charged into the Scourge sides, dismembering and pushing them off the ledge of the Orgrim’s Hammer. Gorvar noticed light’s at the canon room’s flaring up, nodding approvingly. The captain knew if there was a boarding party, they would try to take out the canons, hence the blood elven Death Knight and Priest were there. The shadow warders were there aswell, doing their voodoo spells to help the ship. ‘Straight ahead!’ Korm orderd, taking no moment to rest. ‘Time is of the essence!’ ‘Sky-reaver!’ Mulga shouted.’ The sky is swarming with those rotten bastards, we’ll get cut to bloody ribbons if we charge right in!’ Gorvar saw a small savage grin on Korm’s features. ‘We are Orcs, we charge in fires blazing and axes edged sharp as our tusks, LOK TAR OGAR!’ The reavers rose their bloodied weapons into the air like blood crazed beserkers of ancient myth. Mulga smiled proudly at her commanding officer, Gorvar thinking those two seem to share a stronger bound then just the one of friendship. ‘Full steam ahead Copperclaw!’ Mulga ordered. ‘Fire the main canon!’

The metal gates that separated below decks from normal deck went wide open ,dozens of small goblins and peons running up, putting large canisters into the wolf’s head front canon of the Orgrim’s Hammer. Gorvar glanced below, the battle going to the Argent Crusade and it’s allies. However the many explosions from down below indicate heavy losses. Distant bird like screeches sounded, nearing the Hammer. The Beast-master smiled, recognising the beasts and it’s riders. Blood elves on Dragonhawks, aptly named for it’s combination of a dragon and a bird of prey, flew in formation next to the Orgrim’s hammer. The riders were clothed in blood red mail, carrying large lances with the Horde sign on a small shield on it’s side while carrying a shield with Sin’dorei symbols that were pulsating a yellow light. Their commanding officer, for he wore elaborate armour and helmet, nodded to the Sky-reaver, who in turn saluted the blood elf. ‘Give them hell elf....’ Gorvar said quietly, quietly asking the ancestors to guide their way.

The Orgrim’s Hammer and the dragonhawk rider’s flew straight into the masses of Gargoyles, firing and stabbing their way through. Gorvar, slashed any Gargoyle that came to close, Wolfgen dragging one down to finish it off. The bare sunlight, already weakend from the dark skies, was obscured even more by the wings. The Beast-master glanced to the ship’s escorts, seeing their number had sadly diminished. Already he could see a female being ripped away from her mount, torn apart by a flock of gargoyles. Her cries were luckily short and merciful. The orc searched for some arrows, picking his bow back up, firing away, trying to help the Dragonhawk riders. ‘There is a clearing up ahead, keep going!’ Mulga shouted, fighting alongside Korm. The ship broke through, the sunlight re-appearing. Gorvar panted, falling down on his back. His leg was scared open, not having noticed during the fight. He looked up, a elf in white robes coming to him calmly, holding his hands over the wound. ‘Easy now...’ the elf said, the wound slowly healing and closing. Gorvar nodded, getting back up a bit later. ‘Mulga...’ Korm sighed exhausted, his own wounds being grave themselves, ‘are we almost there?’ Mulga nodded, pointing ahead. ‘The Citadel is up ahead.....and I think...’ she peered. ‘Yes, The Forsaken are there!’ Gorvar could see a group of Forsaken and even a Dark Ranger standing in front of a cliff. This is why they were here, Gorvar recalled, they received a magic transmission by one of Sylvanas’ dark rangers to pick up the Forsaken group who tried to assassinate the Lich King. Guessing at the low numbers of the group and how exhausted they looked, they seemed to have failed. Korm nodded, tending to his wounds. ‘Drop down and arm the canons, we know what’s coming at them.’ Mulga nodded, shouting the orders.

Gorvar drank his last health potion, hoping it will keep him on his feet. The ship dropped down as the scared cries run around the ship like wildfire, it was as if Sargeras himself had come. ‘The Lich King, the Lich King is after them!’ A scared goblin was shouting. Mulga looked up for orders, Krom glaring. ‘Drop down and fire at that frozen bastard, we aint leaving those rotters behind!’ Again Gorvar saw the admiration in Mulga’s eyes, who shortly after relayed the orders. The canons sounded, Gorvar seeing they aimed at the tunnel behind the Forsaken group. Vaguely the orc could see a plated form behind the tunnel, and for a brief moment, he could see it’s blue cold eyes....staring at him.

‘FIRE, FIRE!’ The tunnel collapsed, the Forsaken running up the ramp. ‘Get onboard, now!’ Korm called the Forsaken over.’ This whole mountainside could collapse at any moment.’ Gorvar and a troll helped the weaker Forsaken get in, the Dark Ranger going in last. ‘Mulga, get us out of here!’ Korm ordered, his second relaying the commands. Gorvar’s eyes went to a robed female Forsaken, her robes marking her as a warlock, giving her a water sack. ‘I promised I would come after you, didn’t I?’ The Forsaken looked up, almost glaring. Gorvar chuckled at her.’ Your welcome, friend.’ The warlock sighed, nodding slowly, drinking the water. The orc knew the warlock was grateful, and showed it in her own way. His eyes glanced the Dark Ranger, recognising her. It was Lady Sylvanas Windrunner herself! Gorvar turned back to see his forsaken friend, who was grinning herself now. She wasn’t kidding when she said a few weeks ago she was in the Dark Lady’s favour. ‘We are safe..... for now.’ Sylvanas sighed exhausted.’ His strength has increased ten-fold since our last battle! It will take a mighty army to destroy the Lich King, an army greater than even the Horde can rouse.’ Korm laughed loudly. ‘Do not fret Dark Lady, for he has not met our canons fully, we will kick him off his frozen throne soon.’ The Dark Lady merely stared at the orcs before sitting down with her last remaining Forsaken strike team. ‘Take us home.....’ she said.

Gorvar sighed, the citadel already retreating. He glanced down against as the Argent Crusade brought their massive battering ram towards it’s gates. The Beast-master grinned, for he knew the reign of the Lich King was soon at a end. Soon he would return back to durotar, soon he would see his mate Kloria and pups again, soon he would mate with Klo so much he lost the feeling in his body for days. He longed to work in her blacksmith again, to stop fighting in the cold north. He hoped soon was ust around the corner.

The end.