Fanfic, the final.

The Unknown Paladin

Part Three

Steel clashed and the mightiest spells of our assembled host shot towards the gargantuan Gronn. His sons had done little to prepare me for the sight of him, barely contained by the vaulting cavern of his home.

A mighty giant, the bone protrusions erupting from his flesh enhanced his fearsome appearance, muscles and sinew thickly knotted limbs as large as several Tauren, measured hoof to horn. Viscously curved claws tipped fingers thicker than a stout leg. Teeth, broken and jagged but undoubtedly deadly jutted from his massive jaws, glinting in the torch light and dripping saliva.

Truly a God and King above Kings in these sundered lands.

The fury of the bestial God-King seemed boundless, as did his vitality. 
 

No wound or searing flame, nor fierce touch of elements seemed to weaken the creature. Instead, in the brief moments since the fight had been joined in earnest, he had appeared to grow, unfolding his massive bulk to meet the threat of an army.

With my blessings and the constant succour of my healing the brawlers kept their feet, nearing death only to be restored by a fist of glorious magics.

The glint in Gruul’s eye was not fear; such would be unknowable to the monster. Rather he seemed to delight at the invaders, gleeful to vent his wrath at such puny foes. Energy coursing through a body ancient and wasted by repose, stirring power long untapped and unchallenged since vanquishing the Black flight.

A hideous laugh echoed through the cavern, raining down sweeping blows as the desperate bear fought to keep the giant’s attention. A slightly built cadaver, a scout of questionable abilities danced around the thrashing fists as glancing blows crushed the unwary.

How the forsaken fool hoped to harm a god with tiny, poking envenomed blades I would never guess, but the desperate flurries were just as effective as anything else. Not very effective at all.

Blood flowed freely from dozens of gashes on Gruul’s legs, arms and torso. They did little to trouble the fiend. His growth was now clearly visible, and his strength multiplied with it.

A massive rumple took me off my feet, disturbing my tenacious grasp over the Naaru’s power. Looking around as I struggled to my feet I saw the less capable of my fellows prone or running from similar quakes, as Gruul shook his home with tremors.

Throwing a shock of potent healing magics at the tiring bear I too ran from the quake. Mid step the world froze in an instant. A surge of power flooded the room, filling my entire being.

The sweet taste washed away the bitterness of the twisted Naaru’s magic.

Not arcane, nor fel. Not even the dilute tang of elements harnessed by the Shaman. This was pure, more so even than the Sunwell.

A smile touched my lips at that blasphemy.

A wall of sound broke the moment as I was thrown towards the stalactites hanging far above.

Nausea rose and was conquered as the natural order of things resumed. The sweet taste left and the swell of the light filled my being once more.

With distaste another shock of the foul stuff left my fist, this time directed inwards. The fall had not been pleasant.

Casting an eye around, the room darkened imperceptibly. Gruul towered above, seeming to throw his fist through syrup.

The world darkened.

A step took me out of the monster’s shadow.

The world darkened.

Throwing all my weight forward in a terrific leap...

The world darkened.

... I came crashing into the troll priest, hastily shielding herself with a hushed word.

Again a moment in time extended onwards, Gruul bellowed a full throated laugh as he stamped a massive foot.

The world shattered.

The last seconds rushed through my mind, no longer slowed by Gruul’s trick.

Beyond the troll I could see the shadowy mass of a forsaken. One I recognized. That incompetent fool mage, still bursting with his stolen magic. The petrification Gruul had effortlessly cast on an army, he had just as easily smashed. The force of each shattering extending outwards wreaking terrible destruction through the forces arrayed against him.

I would not run so hastily again, being so close to the troll maiden had nearly ended me and the touch of her shielding magics around me did little but vex me with my own foolish haste.

Gruul now towered, forced to stoop beneath the cavern ceiling and breaking stalactites with every move.

The chaos of falling rock went largely unnoticed with the constant tremors and the desperation to bring the beast down before the whole of the mountain range fell upon us all.

The festering buffoon had followed me, grinning as he called for my blessings even as he sent a bolt of flame from a flailed hand.

Blessing bestowed, I glowered briefly at him, turning my attention back to the viscous melee. More had fallen as Gruul gained in size and strength, crushing those unfortunate enough to be caught beneath his indiscriminate strikes.

A soundless explosion reverberated through the cavern, and silence reigned. The magic burned in my hands for release, but no words could issue forth. No sounds of the carnage, nor the wails of the injured.

The magic flared as sound rushed once more into the world.

But too late.

With one staggering blow the bear was floored, Gruul raised a foot to finish the dazed druid. Tugging at the power of the Naaru, ripping power through the ether into me I extended my hands, palm out. 
 

The laying of hands would once have drained a paladin of every ounce of strength and life, but Kael had taught our people well that a desperate act could hold untold rewards.

Ripping at my belt pouch a cool bottle came immediately to hand.

A tiny vial of blue liquid.

In the back streets of Silvermoon, or in the ruins where the Wretched fought for their meagre, warped existence in decrepit slums, a single drop from this vial could buy the head of any elf in the city.

Bitter magic, foul and plain. But it infused me, reinvigorating after the exhausting spell.

The bear had regained his senses, and my mighty effort had given the others time to react. Bellowing a challenging roar the druid seemed to enrage, growing in size and sweeping his massive paws in a berserk effort to mangle a foe so far beyond his capabilities that the blows may as well have been swats at flies.

Gruul’s amusement seemed to wane. Perhaps the efforts of our motley army were finally having an effect, though the Gronn seemed to grow still more massive.

A roar again echoed through the cavern, and I braced, quickly throwing flashes of healing magic as I waited for the inevitable.

Glancing around, I could see the less stupid of my fellows bracing themselves. As one we flew in arcs towards the hanging stalactites.

Hitting the floor in a roll, I was ready.

The world darkened.

Luck favours the wary and a dark alcove awaited me a short run away.

The world darkened.

Throwing myself again in a marvellous leap I rolled forward. Momentum threw me forward faster than my legs would now carry me as I...

The world darkened.

... crashed into the dank stone of the cavern wall.

The world shattered.

I could hear cries behind me as I quickly closed a fresh gash on my cheek.

The torch light showed the cavern floor was littered with bodies. Few were still conscious, crawling to their feet to continue the battle.

Gruul paused briefly, possibly according some measure of honour to the bear once more prone before him. A foot viscously stamping the life from the druid ended any conveyance.

Turning his fierce regard from the melee Gruul eyed the rotting moron of a mage, gleefully bending to pluck the unfortunate from half a room away.

The end had come. These puppets had failed at the last hurdle.

The taste of Gruul’s power only magnified the torment of my defeat.

This left only one course of action, a slim chance that something could be salvaged yet.

Running forward I shrouded myself in a divine shield, wrapping the trapped Naaru’s considerable power around myself.

Gruul turned his attention from me to hurriedly maim and kill the last of the invaders.

Falling to my knees before the Gronn God I knew I must beseech him for whatever mercy he might have. I would not be an ineffective servant, and perhaps I could win the power I sought under a new master. Not the end I wished, with the captive giant humbled before the assembled people of Silvermoon, ready to crown a new champion. A new regent. But service could have rewards.

“My King. Spare me that I might serve.” With a swallow I saw that I had the entirety of his gruesome attention, and the magic protecting me would not last long. “Your court is dead, your bastion in ruins. 
 

“You could make good use of my power. The Naaru’s Light bends to my will, and with me as emissary there are worlds beyond this you could crush under heel!”

Gruul considered my words well, a smile touching that monstrous countenance.

His laugh once again echoed through his home.

“Gruul not need unworthy runt. Die!”

Raising a fist the Gronn kept his gaze fixed to mine. The faintly glowing bubble of divine energy surrounding me did not feel too invulnerable.

The blow shattered the already failing barrier with ease.

It ends here. Not glory, not the pleasures of the arcane. Just death.

***

The shade of the unknown paladin retreated from the mouth of Gruul’s cave, the crunch of bones echoing throughout Blades Edge, a warning to any who would invade the home of the Dragonkiller.

Fanfic, continued.

The Unknown Paladin

Part Two

An argument seemed to rage amongst the colossal ogres.

Such a vulgar language, but thankfully easy to decipher.

Laughably simplistic actually. How such a force that dwelled within could waste time with the disparate tribes of its brethren in these accursed mountains was a mystery. The Dragonkiller could walk out into the world and bring armies to their knees, with or without his sons. Instead his puppet King raged at rebellion and the strange whispers of a new ogre power rising.

Soon those problems would be meaningless to them all. Death held all the answers they would ever need.

The scouts we had sent forward returned. We would have to take down the council to get to their master. Just as I had predicted. Still, the news that more ogre sentries also lay beyond was fresh. I doubted the foolish creatures would give us any trouble, even if they heard the massacre of their King.

Our fighters split, a small team of healers staying with a single warrior at the mouth of the tunnel into the wider cavern. The foolish mage, recovered from his most recent end thanks to one of my fellow healers, advanced on the council of ogres. Still oblivious to their impending doom they did not notice the suspicious shadows invading their stronghold. Our scouting party had confirmed our strategy. The bear-commander had scried out our course true, somehow. The inferior races often had their uses and this shape-addled creature knew well enough how to fight.

Not so unlike the ogres before us, and seemingly as easily manipulated.

The mage’s hands burst into flame as he readied a massive ball of flame. The first attack, and our signal.

The conflagration grew in size as it travelled, soon warning our quarry of our presence.

Too late for them.

More parties thrust forward from the flanks, each drawing a single opponent.

Divide and conquer.

Simple and hopefully effective. The king rushed towards the mage, roaring his fury as his own magus threw torrents of flame at the hapless wizard. Laughing, a towering Tauren took aim through a massive gun and fired a round into the King's face.

Through no magic I could detect the King's rage was instantly redirected... at the warrior standing nearby my group of healing specialists.

The Light surged through me as I bent it to my will, shaping its holy energies to help the foolish shield bearer weather such an onslaught.

Not even my mastery of the Light could accomplish this alone. The troll priest and a walking corpse of the same caste stood at my shoulders. Aiding my endeavours with their own paltry magics. Vessels for a power beyond them, begging for the guidance of that which I controlled. Pitiful light-lovers unable to see that they worshipped a power that should be at under their heel.

Still, they achieved their purpose; to bolster my own masterful efforts.

The warrior could not lock horns with his opponent. The King of the ogres was no paltry foe, for all his servitude to a greater power. He towered above us, horns of his own sprouting from flesh in a grim imitation of the Gronn he served. Instead the beast-man thrust forward his shield, striking the towering monster with mocking blows even as he fended off attacks. It did little to trouble the thing, but such a massive body held a small mind, easily distracted from those he might destroy with little more than a glance.

A gargantuan Felhunter could be heard baying further inside.

A weakness overcame me as its very presence began to drain the arcane flows of power from around it, such an abomination should not be loose. Fortunately we had practitioners of the fel arts amongst us. That they were inept was an unfortunate consequence of their inferior ancestry, but even as my resolve began to falter the feelings receded. Finally the hounds of the legion were contained.

Shouts sounded from further inside the cavern. Even with a span of rock to conceal it, I could feel the magic. Such magic. One of the creatures had erected an ethereal barrier, and even still had strength left to bend it’s crude powers into a healing spell more potent than any I could call, save perhaps at the expense of my very life.

I willed the spell to its end, the thought of such arcane might coursing through the air came as a thrill, intoxicating, almost able to satisfy the lust that burned within. But the barrier fell to a massive onslaught as my allies redoubled their efforts. A startled cry cut through the sounds of fighting instead, satisfying enough in its own way. A wail soon after told of the fate of the unfortunate ogre.

Such a pity it could not have been crippled but left alive. Silvermoon would have feasted for weeks on such vigour.

For a price.

With the first member of the ogre council defeated even such dull creatures as these balked, seeing their own doom. The High King let out a booming roar.

“You not kill the next one so easy!”

The bluster sounded hollow even to my ears, standing bare feet away from his deafening shout.

Soon, two resonant thuds told of two more of his followers joining their friend in oblivion, almost in tandem. The cadaverous mage had done well keeping the ogre magi occupied, the buzz of energy told of the great struggle. The repeated theft of the ogre’s spells had come in useful, though I might wish the festering bastard would choke on them. Under other circumstances I might have fed the ogre its tormentor, for its enslavement would have been a prize above almost any other.

Entry to its master’s den could further my cause more.

The needs of others could not deter me in this.

The mass of my savage companions mobbing the last of the council quickly overcame its defences. Only the King remained to thwart my designs.

The massive ogre paused at this, seemingly defeated, before his shoulders once more squared in defiance.

“You will not defeat the Hand of Gruul!” The glint of madness in his eye hinted at what was to come as a berserker rage descended.

Lifting his hammer high he swung it wildly, soon blurring into a maelstrom of destruction. The brawler of a Tauren held his shield to its best effect, struggling to keep the vast ogre’s attention. Blood pooled and the ground became slick, but still the brute raged until his maddened state seemed to make him glow.

With a bellow far more bestial than even an ogre's usual grunts he paused his mad whirlwind, throwing aside his immense hammer he charged into the heart of the raiders to rend his enemies bare handed. Limbs struck my fellows as one unfortunate was torn apart in seconds. Even could I tell apart the barbarous races at a glance, never would I hope to identify the victim; such was the devastation.

With the might of the Naaru bent to my will I fought to counter the assault, others of the healing arts following my example. Even Kael himself would marvel at the efforts of my allies as they continued to attack the crazed giant, worthy tools for my goals.

Summoning forth holy energies to assault the beast I cast them forth, hoping to add a final shock, ending him. The effort was sadly wasted as his death rattle sounded. But one last curse could he voice before the light faded from his eyes, barely a whisper, but heard by all.

“Gruul will... Crush you!”

The monster’s threat could not be easily ignored.

The Dragonkiller awaited and the combined might of the ogre nation lived and died on his whim.

Fanfic: yup, I am that much of a nerd.

The Unknown Paladin

 

Part One.

The maw of the cavern stood before us, the corpses of the fallen ogres beneath our boots smelled sickly sweet with spilled blood and charred flesh. Soon decay would transform these hills into a fetid wasteland. Would Draenor, the promised land of my people, ever find surcease from ruin?

My companions called out for my blessings. Little did they know the power that I bent to my will, striving against the might of the captive Naaru, twisting the Light to do my bidding.

I felt the invigoration of divine magics course through me as the priests wove their spells across the party. A nearby Troll smiled serenely as she called forth the light. Had she abandoned her heritage simply to beg the light for its gifts? Savages and blood enemies they may be, but pride in her race should come before obeisance to an illusory ideal. My thoughts left me as other magics joined the electric surge through my body, fuelling arcane lusts I could not control.

The power was magnificent. Why else would I align myself with the feral brutes and treacherous former humans? And as for my sin'dorei peers... They mattered only as far as I could use them. Kael'thas, who would be King of a ruined people, has taught us even in his betrayal; use those with power enough to aid you, they can be discarded at will.

Our commander, a towering Tauren too often taking the form of a massive bear roared for silence, our numbers a veritable army at his command. Those within knew we were coming, undoubtedly, but in their arrogance they could be defeated. Orders were given quickly and quietly in the hush. The ogres inside were no easy targets. If they would only mount a true defence of their stronghold few forces in this world or those beyond could hope to overcome them.

Fortunately, they were fools.

A bestial face turned to the intruding light as we entered. Even in those inhuman features I could see the recognition flare. Intruders. As many of its kind, the warrior classes, it charged towards us. Before it could reach the fragile magic users the bear-Tauren distracted it with a sweep of his massive paw. Cruel claws kept the creature's attention focused away from its doom, as I forced the Light to seal the bear's wounds.

A figure of the doomed ogre's brethren loomed nearer as its corpse hit the cold stones. A priest wreathed in shadows looked on, oblivious to our wounded as he prepared a fresh barrage for this new threat. His Light-loving fellows and a druid, taking a bastardized treeform in homage to the World-tree, Nordrassil, wove their spells. Beyond, a paladin long out of Silvermoon twisted his power to the same ends, aided by a haggard shaman. Who knew the trials he had faced in this realm of sundered elements, what bargains he struck to invigorate our army and keep them whole.

The bear charged, followed by weapon waving lunatics that called themselves warriors. The shadows held more surprises for the ogre as rogues plied their skills, blackened blades never glinting in the poor torch-light as they went to their grisly work.

Intelligence bordering on reason showed in the bestial face as it bellowed for help from the denizens residing further within before narrowing it's eyes in concentration, raising meaty fists in the air.

I could smell the magic coursing through it.

I longed to drink deep from that well of power.

Sadly, my duties would not allow it and those duties promised the reward of greater magic to come. This morsel of the arcane would do my corpse no good when my distraction cost us our lives. Every healer present focused on the bear, to do less would ensure his death and risk my own. The air was so filled with the aroma of magic I could barely resist as the ogre healed itself with a potent spell. An undead mage cast forth his own arcane weaving... And the spell was his.

There could be no true God to allow an abomination such glorious energies. Sweeping my eyes across my companions I saw these thoughts mirrored in my Blood Knight brother's visage.

Pummelled, kicked and bashed the ogre succumb, crashing to the floor, denied the help it had so desperately called for, as it was deprived of its healing magic.

The far more pleasant smells of a campfire and strong ale came to me through the all pervading sweat and blood. Two of the massive ogres. Not on guard, for we had dealt with the two sentries. Caught unaware, they would still not go down easily.

Even from this distance I could see we were dealing with the brutes. No spark of intellect showed as they stood warming themselves, oblivious to the small army that assailed them.

A Tauren warrior stepped forth hefting a large shield onto his forearm. Shoulder to shoulder with the bear they advanced, and then burst into action, separating the ogres away from each other and our main group. Fire and ice arced through the air, fierce strikes from arrow, bullet and blade pierced flesh as we healers struggled to keep our brawlers on their feet.

With a sudden roar an ogre turned, charging into our ranks. One blow from its vicious axe cleaved a mage in two. The same mage who had been bathed in the ogre's potent restorative magics minutes before. Perhaps a God was directing things, I thought, a wry smile touching my lips. Another of our number was felled before our bestial commander once more took charge of the errant ogre. As it was lead away from our clustered position its companion gave a last bellow of pain and slumped to the ground. Alone it faced us, unswerving in its bravery... or stupidity, before it joined the others.

Creeping forward we could see the High King himself, his full council assembled on some unfathomable whim. They dwarfed those we had bested.

This would be fun.