The Ironsong Tribe

Full Version: Storming the Citadel: Sentei's Story
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"I'm not going to say it again, line UP!"

Sentei stared straight ahead as a few of the remaining stragglers of the unit quickly scrambled into position at the sound of the commander's voice. The commander of this unit in question was Sin'Dorei, looking to be in his middle-ages. His bright green eyes went up and down the line, ensuring all his team were present. He walked up to the head of the line, his Argent Crusade tabard neatly displayed over his chest as he slowly began his walk down.

"Every one of you have been called here today because you have shown exceptional fighting skills amongst the people who partook in the Argent Tournament. I'm sure many of you have friends doing similar jobs to this one, or ones that are much tougher. Regardless, Lord Tirion Fordring has ensured that the best of the best are ahead in the Citadel and it is our job to ensure they focus completely on the job at hand."

He paused for a moment to look the crew over. Here at the Crusader's Pinnacle, there was much being done. Many other forces were making their way through and final preparations to make the move on the Citadel came.

"How many of you have been affected by Arthas? Whether it be you personally, your family or friends?" he asked.

Many hands went up, including Sentei's.

"You, soldier." The commander nodded at an Orc near where Sentei stood. "What's your story?"

The Orc hesitated as if unsure what to say.

"I..." he started and glanced around at the various onlookers waiting to hear.

"Why are you here?" The Commander opted for instead, "To fight Arthas, sure. But there's more to it then that."

"My family is poor." The Orc then said, "My mate makes a small amount of money off the traveling bands of Tauren in the Barrens by ensuring the Kodo are well-kept. I..." he hesitated again, "I'm all they have. I am here to make sure my family does not have to suffer."

The commander nodded.

"You have any children?" he asked, almost gently.

The Orc nodded.

"A son." was all he said.

"I do hope you make it back to him." the Commander said as he kept walking up the line.

"How about you?" he said standing before Sentei.

Sentei's eyes widened slightly.

"Uhm..." he fumbeled, then, "The Dead Scar."

The commander gave a small laugh.

"Of course. Many of us are here because of that disgusting thing." He paused for a moment before continuing.

"We've all lost loved ones to the scourge, fought them back time and time again. I do not think I need ask any of our Forsaken friends why they stand in the lines today."

There was the sound of armor clinking together as the Forsaken beings in the unit gave nods and movements of approval.

"Know that we fight with honor." The commander said, "We fight with our hearts and our lives on the line. Think of what you are saving should we emerge victorious. We will save everything that is important to us."

"The beautiful forests of Eversong." He said as he glanced at a female, blood elf mage.

"The pride for taking revenge on all that befell Tirisfal Glades." He nodded to an Undead rogue.

"The streets of Orgrimmar." He looked back to the Orc warrior.

"The peace and serenity of Mulgore." He turned to a Tauren shaman.

"And the wonderful coasts of Sen'jin." He then stared towards a Troll hunter.

"These and all other things across Azeroth are ours to protect, for none of it would exist still were it not for all of our heart and courage." He stepped to the center of the formation and gave them a final once over.

"Look at the person next to you and hope that you and they are still alive once it is all said and done."

The group awkwardly looked at one another, and Sentei hoped that deep within himself, no one would end up that way.

The commander breathed in, "I want you all to know th-"

A sudden blare of a horn interrupted his words. The elven commander's expression turned to a grim appearance.

"That's us!" he called, "Make way to the front of the Pinnical in formation! We will gather at the front gates of Icecrown Citadel and make our way to the front lines!"

Sentei felt a sudden fear strike down an icy knife in his chest. The thought of pushing back scourge outside the Citadel was enough to scare many. But did the commander really just say "front lines"? There must've been some kind of mistake! He had specific orders to be outside the Citadel, not in it fighting the strongest of Arthas' minions!

He quickly stepped over to the commander as the unit began to move.

"Commander!" He called, "I'm not-" He was shoved roughly by an arm, "I'm not supposed-"

The commander gave Sentei an irritated look, "I don't have time, warlock! Get in formation and catch a drake over to the Citadel!"

"But I'm not-" Sentei persisted, even as the commander turned and quickly strode away to take care of his own business.

As he got dragged away from the gathering area and towards the green proto-drakes known to be in Argent possession, he couldn't help but feel he got put in the wrong place by someone. He climbed atop a drake, its large wings beating the cold air and lifting him away from his safety. The cold fear was now settling as a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. Even from this far away, he could make out the huge pillar that made up the tower of the Citadel, and it only made his nerves wind tighter.

Though he flew with many others, eager for the blood shed and battle ahead, he couldn't have felt more alone.
Kardwel paced the frozen grounds set before him. His armor was beginning to coat with a thin layer of ice due to the mist and fog that hung eternally around the front of Icecrown Citadel.

He slipped his hands together, interlocking his fingers in a nervous fashion. He honestly had no idea what to expect of the battle ahead. Most fights he had been in, there had been a very well-laid-out plan. From the moment they entered the ring until the last blow was given, there had always been strict rules and guidelines to follow.

But not today. Today, all he had been told was that he'd be healing those who would need it quicker than other soldiers. Those coming off the front lines and any soldier or helper in dire need of holy arts and medical attention.

He had been at the Crusader's Pinnacle earlier and had taken a flight over to the Citadel on the back of one of their green proto-drakes. Now, he'd been waiting for a good 45 minutes to an hour at least. From this vantage point on the edge of the mountains that made up Icecrown, he could see the field of battle far below them. He could see units of soldiers spreading out, the Argent Crusade ensuring they remained safe for the time being.

"Dat be dem." A voice interrupted Kardwel's thoughts.

The blood-knight looked back and saw a female troll in the garb of a restorative shaman approach the edge he looked over.

"Dey be da ones goin' ta de front lines." Her thick accent continued. "Dey be da ones we hafta be healin' firs'." She looked to Kardwel then, "Ah hope ja ready fo'ah all dat."

Kardwel shook his head, "You think they're going to fail that terribly?"

The troll shrugged. "Ah t'ink dey gonna give it all dey got. But dis be Art'as, mon. It ain' gonna be no easy fight. Look down dere...and den look up he'ah." She then nodded to the other healers that surrounded the area.

"Dey be going in by de hundreds, perhaps thousands." She went on. "Do you see dat many of us?"

Kardwel did look at the amount of people. There were a lot of healers here, but this wasn't all they had. He knew different healers and different soldiers were around in other spots as well. They were all spread out so Arthas and his scourge couldn't tell what would happen next. There were maybe a hundred people in this unit alone. Instead of arguing with the troll, he simply nodded.

"We may not look like much," he said, "But we're good at what we do. Very good. That's why the Argent Crusade picked us. They believe we can handle whatever is thrown at us."

A sudden horn blare stopped both of them and they looked to the skies. Kardwel wasn't sure what they meant, but they had been sounding all day and whenever one sounded, it meant something was going to happen.

"Look!" The troll called out.

Now looking back down, Kardwel saw all the units of the Horde in the field before the Citadel begin to line up. They all stood in perfect formation as various commanders and generals walked about the lines. This was the final moment before it would all come to be known whether the fight today would succeed or not.

"T'ink we can handle whatever we get?" The troll woman then softly asked, "We about to find out, aren't we?"
((Sorry for the delay. More to come.))

If there was one thing Sentei didn't expect upon entering Icecrown Citadel, it was the quietness that greeted his unit as they made their way past the front door and into the area the Argent Crusade had called "Light's Hammer". The sound of armor and weapons clinking together was the only sound that greeted the elf's ears as they hastily made their way in deeper.

The warlock glanced back, making sure his Zeplop was close behind. For such a weird imp, the creature was actually staying close. Perhaps even the small demon could feel the dominating sense of the Frozen Throne.

The unit passed another large archway and Sentei could hear the Commander's voice.

"Hold steady." He muttered, "Something isn't right."

Sentei could feel the unease spread throughout the group like a plague, the anticipation of an attack very apparent. All his senses were tuned to their sharpest right now. One flick of movement, he would see it. One pin dropping upon the floor and he felt as though he'd hear it. His hands stayed at his sides, the power of fire already tickling at his finger-tips.

The unit behind theirs had been approaching as quickly and as quietly and now stood back.

"There were a few units before us..." The Commander explained, "Perhaps they made some progress unbeknown to us."

He turned to his unit, "Let us move for-"

Before he could finish the sentence an explosion burst forth from the doorway down the long hall. A hail of what appeared the be arrows flew up high in the air before falling back down upon its quiet enemy. The unit broke line immediately, shields being thrown up to prevent the arrows from landing. Sentei found himself scrambling backwards into other lines of magic users. The plate and weapon wielding warriors and paladins had been sent forward first. Druids who took upon their bear forms gave ferocious roars and began their charge into the fray.

As the arrows came down, Sentei realized they were not arrows at all. They were sharpened bones honed to stab perfectly at anything. And beyond the wall of arrows, he could see creatures made up entirely of bone making their way quickly to the Horde ranks. It was sometime around this point that he lost all track of who was who and what exactly was going on. His mind began to think only of himself and survival. He stepped forward, fire raging in the left palm of his hand. His green eyes began to glow brighter than ever as he called upon the Fel energy within him to destroy the bone-creatures around him.

Spell after spell was shot forth from his fingertips. Fire incinerated many of them, or one would fall to the dreadful fate of his chaos bolt. He couldn't keep track of how many were dying or how many were coming down the hallway. The bone creatures were just beginning to lessen in number when a bigger threat appeared.

A scourge-mage, skeletal hands glowing blue, began to summon frozen energy upon the unit. A Forsaken warrior charged forward, his axe coming up to swing at the mage in a deadly arc. Those in the unit who could see what was happening, Sentei among them, watched in horrer as the mage's hand came forward. An icy bolt shot forth and turned the Forsaken from living to frozen in a matter of seconds. The frozen body then began to crack before it split entirely and left nothing but shards of cold ice upon the floor.

"That one!" The Commander shouted, having been fighting off plenty of bone-sentinels himself. "Kill that one!"

The unit re-focused their attacks on the mage, spells and arrows flying into the creature. It put up a decent fight before it too toppled to the ground. It went on like this for hours. More units had been coming in as the fights had been going on and now they were making good progress. The unit was a bit smaller in size now as they entered the first cavernous room. Two path-ways wound around a gigantic ice wall. What this room was for, the warlock had no idea.

"Steady." The Commander called.

Healers had been backing up the units and were now stepping between the ranks, tending to any serious wounds and taking those out of line who were too injured to fight. Luckily, Sentei was not one of them. The unit progressed slowly through the room, their foot falls echoing around them. A sudden vibration through the floor made them all stop. Many of them looked about in confusion and Sentei heard a voice from somewhere behind him.

"What the hell is that?"

The Commander stepped forward, looking behind them in the general direction of the voice. Sentei's eyes scanned the area, but he could see nothing.

"Above us!" Another voice yelled.

A sudden mass appeared to drop before them. Bones the size of giants began to form up and place together a ribcage, arms and hands. Three large skulls topped off the form, glowing in blue fire. And perhaps the deadliest piece was the axe, nearly as big as the giant-bone construct himself.

Sentei found his jaw slowly slacking as he stared in amazement. The unit looked on in a mix of awe and horror at what had befallen them. But before Sentei could think anymore about what he was staring at, the Commander's voice rang out once more.

"All units, ATTACK!"
How long they had been fighting, the warrior couldn't tell. It had been hours and he'd lost track some time ago.

His unit had lost a few good soldiers in the process and Melikar could feel the burden of their lives upon his shoulders. He was placed as a second-in-command for his unit and losing anyone felt like he was losing a part of himself. They had pushed most of the Scourge forces back and were making some decent progress forward.

The unit in question had taken a small break to regather themselves and figure out the next plan of attack. Healers had been sent in to cure the wounded and a female, blood elf priest looked over a gash on Melikar's left arm. He had removed his shoulder armor and let the priest use her healing magic to restore him. Being a troll, he probably could've restored his own skin in a short amount of time. But this was no place to be waiting for long.

The priest gave him a wry smile as she finished tending him.

"Elune, huh?" she asked, eying his shoulder. "I guess we all need our own beliefs."

Melikar glanced at the tattoo on his arm of the symbol that represented the moon goddess. He only gave a shrug.

"Ah suppose."

"Well, you're good to go now." the priest replied, "I must tend to others. Good luck, and keep fighting hard."

With that, she was out of sight, off through the unit to get more people healed.

Melikar stood, placing his armor back onto his shoulder and securing it tight against him. The wound ached as the plate weighed in, but it was the least of his worries at the moment. He glanced around and noticed many of his unit were back in shape and getting ready for the next move. He walked over to the Commander who was glancing over large parchment spread on the floor.

"Here." The commander said, pointing to a spot on the parchment. It was a drawn map of the basic floor plan of Icecrown. It had been entirely based on what the Crusaders had seen when they had made their first break into this place and the shape and layout of the Citadel itself.

"There's supposed to be a hall just ahead. This leads to the Frozen Throne." The commander explained.

"What about da green dragon?" Melikar asked, "Dere be spies sayin' dat she be kept he'ah."

The commander only nodded. "Not our concern. They've got a good amount of people already heading there."

Indeed, Melikar knew of the other units taking to the other parts of the Citadel. The Commander here only had one thing on his mind and that was to head straight for Arthas. The troll could feel the anticipation of the final assault mounting in his chest.

"Make sure everyone is ready." the commander ordered, "We make our last stand."

Melikar only needed to be told once. He quickly made his way back over to the unit to ensure they were ready to head out. The Knights of the Ebon blade had been backing up many of them, ensuring that armor and weapons stayed repaired and battle-ready. The troll's orange eyes scanned over the large group and everything seemed in order save for the healers still tending those who were worse off and may need to be carried back to Light's Hammer.

"Melikar?"

A voice caught the warrior's attention. He looked over to see a blood elf warlock approaching him, imp demon in tow.

"Sentei?" Melikar also questioned, "Ja made it up he'ah!"

Sentei gave a raising of his eyebrows to indicate the hell he had to go through to get up this way.

"I've seen things I only have nightmares about." He replied, "And that's a lot considering I summon demons for a living."

"Ah didn't even know you were in dis unit." Melikar said, placing a hand on his hip.

Sentei shook his head, "I'm in the one behind, but we were told to make our way to the Throne. That is, after being told we were going to be face the Blood Queen herself." The warlock shook his head, "A huge assault like this and people still can't get things in order."

He then scoffed slightly, "I wasn't even given order to be on the front lines, yet look where I am!"

Melikar nodded, "Not much ja can do now."

"I thought you weren't supposed to be here." A new voice chimed into the conversation.

"Well, well!" Sentei grinned, "If it isn't my dear brother."

Kardwel stepped forward, not grinning.

"We've had people piling into the healing tents since this thing began. I'm only here because they decided to give me a reprieve. And by reprieve they mean get out of the tent and go heal more in the units somwhere."

He then nodded once to Melikar.

"We're good. Looks like things are ready to push forward."

As if on queue, the Horde's battle horn sounded. The unit began to file up immediately and Melikar turned to go back to his position.

"Bettah get back." he said, "We be movin' out now."

"Next stop..." Sentei muttered, "Arthas."

Kardwel ducked back into the crowd, pushing his way to the back.

A section of the unit proceeded forward, weapons and bodies at the ready as they made their way into the hallways deep within the Citadel. Melikar was near the front, watching for any signs of enemy movement, but he saw none. He rounded a corner and stepped into what appeared to be the end of the long hall in question. He stood there for a moment as the unit spread out around him and stared in awe. A cavernous room, so tall he couldn't even seen the top lay before them. A gigantic ice formation stood in the center of the room. Huge, black chains connected from the ice formation to the walls and a large ramp led upwards to the center where a hole had been carved within the sculpture. Inside stood a circular rune, wisps of cold air floating up and dissipating into the air. The frozen throne was just a port away.

Many people in the unit had seen this as well and were eager to extract their revenge on the Lich King.

Too eager, it appeared. Many of them began to surge forward with their goal in sight. Warriors of the Horde charging to end their suffering, mages, warlocks and healers bringing up the rear. It would've been a truly glorious thing to behold, were it not for the fact that no commander had given the order to move forward.

It would have been exactly as Melikar envisioned this day. It would've been perfect had it not been for the impatience of just a few. Because all the troll could do was stand back and watch behind the safe wall as shards of ice sharper than daggers came hailing down through the ranks. They began to drop like flies, screams of anguish and terror filling the area around them. Melikar and the Commander watched in disbelief as a part of the unit fell, valuable healers with them.

And among them, Melikar couldn't mistake the blood-stained armor and the long blond hair of his fellow tribe-mate. As if of their own accord, his legs began to move forward.

Kardwel had seen no single to move forward, but it was his responsibility to ensure the unit stayed alive. Not only had he failed at that task, but he failed at protecting himself. He felt jarring pain as two of the ice shards collided with him, sinking through his armor and into his skin. One had caught him awkwardly in the side, just below his rib-cage. The other had wedged itself into the right side of his chest, going in at a diagonal angle. The powerful magic on the ice shards began to work almost immediately as the paladin could feel his strength quickly ebbing. He tried to cast a healing spell upon himself, but it hardly made a difference. The damage was done, and even as he tried to call for help, he saw blood seeping out of his armor, slowly pooling on the floor. Somewhere in there, he'd fallen to his knees. The shard in his chest had created a cavity and blood was slowly beginning to fill it. It would only be a matter of moments before his right lung would stop working altogether. The shard below his ribs had also penetrated the right lung creating a hole to leak blood into other areas of his body or just right out the wound. His hand came up, wishing to remove the jagged ice, but he found he had no strength to do so. He weakly tugged at the shard in his side as his vision began to go gray. He saw forms running at him but he didn't even bother to see what they were or to defend himself. The screams and shouts around him began to die away as his body began to shut down, his brain redirecting the traffic of his cells to heal himself as quickly as they could. Blood rushed to the areas in question as adrenaline released into his body, only speeding up the bleeding process. All other functions of his body were closing down as they were trying to fix these grievous wounds. By this point, Kardwel had ended up on the floor, barely conscious at all.

This was it. His life was to end here. No victories to be had. Only the cold embrace of death.

Sentei had seen the entire event transpire and had rushed to his brother's side. He was on his knees beside Kardwel's unconscious body, blood soaking into the warlock's robes. But he took no heed. He was shaking the shoulder of the paladin, his throat tight and eyes beginning to water. This couldn't be happening! He wasn't supposed to die like this!

"Kardwel, wake up!" Sentei begged, "Please..."

Kardwel's skin was a very pale color now and Sentei knew there was little chance that he was even alive at this point. The idea struck Sentei to remove his brother's soul. The body could be repaired and he could put the soul back! He placed a hand on Kardwel's chest and concentrated, no longer paying attention to the battle going on behind him. He could feel a very small shred of life still left in Kardwel's body. Removing it and placing it in a soul shard, however, would only finish off his brother for good. The soul was far too weak to be taken without a drastic result. He cursed himself for not taking up a healing class like his father had wanted him to do so many years ago. No, playing around with shadow magic had always been better. More powerful. It all meant nothing when you couldn't save the ones you loved.

Sentei leaned over his brother's body, hoping some way there was still a chance that he was alive. He felt the first tears begin to spill down his face as he realized there was no way now. He felt his own body go numb as he began to let the emotions settle in. His little brother...his poor little brother. The one he'd spent his entire life watching over and to let him get in harm's way so easily. If anyone should be laying dead on the floor, it should've been him.

He suddenly took note of the noise behind him and saw a band of vrykul had attacked the rest of the unit. A large vrykul warrior was swinging a deadly axe, a female behind him with a large crossbow taking shots at those in the back. A sudden rage replaced the anguish in his heart and he felt fire burning on his fingertips. Standing and turning, he let forth a blood-lusted yell that would've made a rampaging Orc proud.

A fire so hot, the tips flickered out blue accompanied the battle shout. The warlock threw his hand forward, fire blazing forth so quickly, the vrykul had no chance to retaliate. Barely anything was left of them in a matter of seconds. The unit began to calm down after this, the remaining healers coming forward and removing the bodies caught in the first attack.

There was a somber and depressed air as the unit watched the bodies being carried away. Sentei stood his ground over Kardwel's body, still not believing this was actually happening. He felt the emotion well up in his chest again as he stared at the lifeless form. A troll shaman rushed forward and kneeled before the body.

"He ain' dead." She muttered.

Sentei turned in shock and stared. The ice shards had been somehow removed from Kardwel's body. The lay on the floor in his blood and how they got out was beyond the warlock's knowledge.

"He's still very weak." the shaman commented, "We best get him back and healed as soon as possible."

Another healer came forward and helped the shaman pick up Kardwel's unconscious form and move him away. Sentei felt a huge sense of relief flow through him as he watched them go. He had no chance to do anything else however. Melikar had been watching as well and now nudged Sentei.

"Now dat we done wit' dat fight," He nodded to the dead vrykul, "We go for da King now."

After what just happened, Sentei couldn't have been happier to oblige.
"You were dead, Kard. I want to know how you survived."

Kardwel's dim, green eyes stared towards Sentei who was leaning against a white wall that made up the edge of the infirmary of Dalaran. Sentei's stare wasn't friendly. If anything, it looked rather penetrating. All Kardwel could manage was a shrug, and then a grimace as the right side of his body ached. The holes formed by the ice shards were sealed, except for the nasty gash marks they had left behind. After a thorough check, he had been given the okay to leave some four days after the battle was over.

No one could explain it. The only plausible idea was that perhaps the paladin had an angel looking out for him.

"I have no idea," Kardwel then said, "All I know is I felt life walking away from me. Next thing I know, I'm waking up in a medical tent in Light's Hammer."

He shook his head, strands of his pale hair falling about his shoulders.

"I never even got to see the final fight..."

Sentei grunted, "Me neither. We had to remain behind to fight off Scourge forces coming in from the back. Melikar got to see it though. You'll have to ask him sometime."

Kardwel nodded. "I heard it was amazing. I heard the spirits tore free from Frostmourne and Tirion delivered the final blow to the sword."

Sentei gave a wry grin.

"Yeah, it's quite a story. One we'll hear about for the rest of our lives and that will echo in history. And to believe we were all a part of it." He turned and glanced out a small window. "Hard to believe..." he muttered, crossing his arms as he did so, "It's all over now. Everything we fought for. Everything we've been training for, all the revenge we sought against our city..."

Kardwel stared down at the bed he was sitting up in. That was certainly true. He suddenly felt at loss as to what to say. It was all over. Without Arthas, the scourge would begin to fall apart. They were severely less in number now than when the expedition to Northrend began. Those days felt like so, so long ago. He remembered the speech Thrall had given and the first zeppelin ride over to the continent. It had seemed so exciting and crazy then.

Turning, the paladin eased his way out of the bed, placing a hand on his chest as he continued to ache. He stepped up next to his brother, looking out the window.

"So..." Sentei quietly said, "What are we going to do now?"

Kardwel didn't answer right away. He thought about it and only one thing could really come to mind.

"I need to buy my own place in Silvermoon. I'm tired of Inn living." He glanced to the warlock, "Afterall, I can only stand the smell of trolls and orcs for so long."

Sentei gave a small laugh at that.

"What about Forsaken? They can get pretty nasty."

Kardwel nodded, "Yeah, I caught a whiff of one the other day. Think I almost fell over and died just from having him run past me."

Sentei continued to smile.

"Let's get you a place in Silvermoon." he said, "We should spend some time there anyway. I guess we'll return to the guild hall as we need but...I kind of see this as everyone starting to part ways."

"It's hard to believe that this is about it." Kardwel replied, "Sure, there's going to be patrols and plenty of other opportunities to fight in the Horde's army but ultimately?" He turned to look at Sentei now, "It's just us and the Alliance. And I'm not letting them come running into our territory. But that should be easy enough."

"Well Kard," Sentei said, throwing an arm over his brother's shoulder, "Let's get your things out of the Filthy Animal. There's a nice home in Silvermoon with your name on it."

With that said, the two exited the room and made their way out of the infirmary. Kardwel felt a much lighter sense about him and the city of Dalaran as many people had come out to celebrate the fall of Arthas. A grand statue had been placed in the center of the city to honor all those who fought and died bravely in the assault on the Citadel.

Though the world mourned for the losses, it also celebrated the passing victory. Sentei kept his arm over Kardwel's shoulder as they strode down the bright, lavender streets of the mage city.

"You can stop doing that now." Kardwel muttered as they kept moving.

Sentei raised his eyebrows in a comical manner as he pulled his arm away. His hand dropped and snapped his fingers as the two sin'dorei passed the bake stand. He didn't even need to see his imp to know what the creature was doing.

"Zeplop, get over here and stop bothering the cake lady."

THE - END

...or is it?