[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

now burned within twin flames, fiery balls the same vicious hue as that which had wreaked such havoc on the
sorcerer. The fires burned wildly for several more seconds& then faded until they seemed but smoky remnants. The
smoke, however, remained, neither dwindling away nor growing stronger.
Your eyes are now my eyes, night elf, their gifts to serve me as well as you&
Illidan said nothing, clearly too distraught from pain.
Sargeras suddenly reached out to Mannoroth in particular. Send him to his rest. When he is recovered, he will set
forth to prove his devotion to me& and seize the artifact&
At Mannoroth s gesture, two Fel Guard strode up and seized the shaking Illidan. They all but dragged him out of
the chamber to his quarters.
The moment the night elf was out of earshot, Sargeras s lieutenant rumbled,  It s a mistake to leave this mortal to
his own devices, even so humbled!
He will not journey alone& there will be another. The night elf called Varo then may be spared for this.
The demon s broad wings flexed at this news. Mannoroth grinned, a macabre sight at best.  Varo then?
Azshara s hound will keep good watch on the sorcerer. If Illidan Stormrage fulfills his promise, the sorcerer will be
granted a place among us&
Such an elevation Mannoroth disliked.  And if the sorcerer proves treacherous?
Then Varo then will instead be granted the favor I would bestow upon the druid s twin& once the captain has
delivered onto me the dragon s creation& and Illidan Stormrage s beating heart&
Mannoroth s grin grew wider.
Three
T he Burning Legion renewed its attack with undiminished fury. While the defenders ever needed to sleep and eat,
the demons did not have any such weaknesses. They fought night and day until cut down, only retreating when the
odds were too great. Even then, they did so making each foot of land retaken paid with much blood.
But now they again found their adversaries refreshed. Now, instead of merely the night elf host, there were others
who fought. Almost doubling the host s strength, the tauren, dwarves, and other races added a new and desperately-
needed edge to the defenders strength. For the first time in days, it was the Legion that failed, pushed back within a
night s ride of ruined Suramar.
Yet, despite this success, Malfurion felt little renewed hope. It was not just that he had come to see his devastated
home as the constant barometer of victory and defeat, the battle continuously ebbing and flowing within sight of the
once-beautiful settlement. Rather, it was the very core of the host s new power that bothered him. True, Rhonin had
managed to force upon Lord Stareye the new allies, but the prejudiced noble had made what should have been a
common cause a reluctant truce. The night elves did not truly fight alongside the others. Stareye kept his people to
the left and middle flanks, the others to the right. There was little communication and almost no interaction between
the various groups. Night elves dealt only with night elves, dwarves with dwarves, and so on.
Such an alliance, if it could laughingly be called that, was surely doomed to defeat. The demons would compensate
for the new numbers and attack harder than ever.
What coordination there had to be had been foisted upon the unfortunate Jarod Shadowsong. The druid wondered
that the guard captain did not hate the outsiders, for they had brought him nothing but calamity. Yet, Jarod took on
his new tasks with the dour dedication that he had the previous ones, for which Malfurion had to admire him. In
truth, whatever the benefit of Rhonin s, Brox s, or Malfurion s presence, Jarod s work matched it. He coordinated
all matters between the factions by necessity filtering out dangerous arguments and slurs and creating
something cohesive. In truth, the captain now had at least as much to do with the host s strategy as the pompous
Stareye.
Malfurion only prayed that the noble would never realize all this. Ironically, it appeared Captain Shadowsong
certainly didn t. In his mind, he was merely obeying orders.
Rhonin, who had been resting atop a rock overseeing the battlefield, abruptly straightened.  They re coming
again!
Brox leapt to his feet with a grace his hulking form belied. The graying orc swung his ax once, twice, then started
for the front line. Malfurion leapt atop his night saber, one of the huge, tusked panthers used by his people for travel
and war.
Horns sounded. The weary host stiffened in readiness. Different notes echoed along the ranks as the various
factions prepared.
And moments later, the battle was again joined.
The defenders and the demons collided with an audible crash. Instantly, grunts and cries filled the air. Roaring a
challenge, Brox severed the head of a Fel Guard, then shoved the quivering torso into the demon behind. The orc
cut a bloody swathe, quickly leaving more than half a dozen demons dead or dying.
Atop another night saber, Rhonin also battled. He did not merely cast spells, although, like Malfurion, he constantly
kept watch for the Eredar, the Legion s warlocks. The Eredar had suffered badly during past campaigns, but they
were ever a threat, striking when least expected.
For now, however, Rhonin utilized his magic in conjunction with his combat skills. Astride the night saber, the
human wielded twin blades created solely from magic. The blue streams of energy stretched more than a yard each
and when the wizard brought them into play, they wreaked havoc on a scale with the orc. Demon armor made for
no resistance; Fel Guard weapons broke as if fragile glass against them. Rhonin fought with a passion that
Malfurion could well understand, for the red-haired figure had let slip of a mate and coming children whose fate
also rested in defeating the legion. As Malfurion was with Tyrande and Illidan, so, too, was Rhonin with his
faraway family.
The druid fought no less powerfully, even though his spells sought communion with nature. From one of the many
pouches on his belt, he brought forth several spiny seeds, the type that clung to one s garments when passing
among the plants. Holding his filled palm up, he blew gently on the seeds.
They rushed forward into the air as if taken by a wind of hurricane strength. Their numbers multiplied a thousand-
fold as they spread out over the oncoming demons, almost turning into a dust storm. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]