Chapter 8

Once the debris from the falling rocks cleared, a horror awaited. 

Their natural chokepoint that would invalidate the overwhelmingly large number of Trolls had been vaporized in a flash. 

Chants and tribal drums blared across the open waters. 

"Zul!"

"Zul!"

"Zul!" 

Dense electric arcs continued to dance amongst the clouds and channel towards one of the Troll shamans. 

Knowing he had to act fast, and dispel this stormy weather, Varrus quickly cast Control Weather. 

In an instant, the covered clouds dispersed, and a hot, dry sunshine spread across the sky. 

As a result however, the fierce, choppy water was quickly dispelled, allowing the Trolls a straight shot at the now exposed beach. 

Not only were the Trolls free to navigate in calm waters, but their vessels began to nearly triple in speed! 

Varrus was confused for a moment, then noticed that shamanistic totemic magic was at play. 

Cresting over the horizon were three humongous boats. Each was in the shape of a totem, and glowed with dense magical energies. Every other second, a pulse of energy would sweep across the fleet from each totem, and imbue the entire force with some sort of buff. 

The totem boats corresponded to the elements of wind, lightning, and fire. At a glance, Varrus figured that these ships each possessed extraordinary capabilities. 

As if to punctuate that point, fierce gales of wind pushed onto the beach, churning up sand, and whipping up mini sandnadoes, demonstrating exactly why the Troll vessels were advancing so swiftly. 

At the same time, the fire totem ship began to lob giant fireballs towards the beach, attempting to find its range. Great plumes of steam erupted from the ocean wherever the fireballs made contact. 

When one of the fireballs was about to crash into the Elven line, Varrus decided to put a stop to it. 

Holding up his hand, Varrus cast telekinesis on one of the Troll totem ship's firebolts with the intention of flinging it back. Surprisingly, it carried with it a powerful momentum, and Varrus was forced to send it crashing to the side as he lacked the strength to fully reverse its trajectory. 

A huge explosion rocked the beach, and a grim silence enveloped the surrounding Elves. 

On the horizon, hundreds of Trolls mounted on dragonhawks came swooping in, and acting as the vanguard, were rapidly closing in on their position. 

In response, Kael stood forth, and turned to address the various Heroes and commanders present. 

"This affront cannot stand! Lor'Themar, I'm entrusting you to take command of the beachhead, I shall take matters into my own hands! No longer will I sit patiently on the sidelines, nor will I allow some girl to fight my battles! The Trolls shall rue the day they ever set foot upon these fair lands!" Without giving Varrus time to react, Kael tossed out a baby Phoenix, then enlarged it to the size of an elephant with the flick of a wrist, and jumped upon its back. "Come Al'ar, we ride!"

Kael'thas hovered in the air for a moment, awaiting Lor'Themar's assent, then flew into the sky to meet the enemy. 

"Yes my liege, I shall not disappoint you!" Lor'Themar replied, then turned to shout out his commands. 

"Golems! To the flanks! Line up on our left and right. Form the line!" 

The golems slowly lumbered into their positions, spreading their numbers thin in an attempt to plug up the gaps in the Elf's line of defense. 

Their large encumbered bodies did not mesh well with the moist sand, and it was obvious to Varrus that the golems could be easily toppled in this environment. 

Idly, Varrus wondered if this feeling of creeping dread was what the Germans felt while defending the beaches on D-Day. 

Evidently he wasn't the only one worried by the current development. 

Dozens of irregulars were fidgeting in place, and Varrus saw looks of panic upon the faces of the mages positioned next to him. 

The feeling of eminent defeat wafted in the air, and a nervous sensation seemed to wordlessly spread amongst the ranks. 

Fresh off a country shattering defeat and bereft of the Sunwell, Varrus could see that the ever present High Elf overconfidence was lacking. 

While he was appreciative of their humbling, he knew that this could not go on if they were to have a shot at victory. 

Morale, afterall was one of the most important, if not the most important ingredients in any engagement. If the people fighting felt like they stood no chance, then they would put in less effort into the fight, all but guaranteeing a loss or route. 

Varrus had seen it a hundred times in online games and sports matches. That when mental strength breaks, defeat would surely be on your heels. 

Further compounding this impending feeling of loss was the mages ineffectual attacks upon the Troll fleet. 

Fireballs and arcane blasts were launched in waves at the Troll forces, yet the Totem ships were blocking every single attack! 

Wherever their attacks landed, a ball of electricity would come out to meet it, and deflect the fireball into the sea. 

Analyzing the scene, Varrus determined that the deflection was due to the damned lightning totem ship! Like a shamans totem in WoW, this massive construct spread a shield to each and every ally! 

It was so powerful, only a concentrated strike from dozens of mages could break the defense, taking down the smallest of canoes. 

Whenever any of the ships containing 100+ occupants were struck, they had even more powerful elemental energies guarding them. Making their attacks seem almost untenable!

The situation was looking grim. Everyone knew that if they couldn't thin the numbers before the Trolls made landfall, it would be a bloody massacre! 

Varrus determined that what the army needed was an act of grandeur to restore confidence. To show that the Trolls could bleed! 

Varrus clenched his fists, and inhaled sharply as he once more felt the weight of responsibility crash upon his shoulders. 

Exhaling forcefully, Varrus raised both his hands, and put them together to dual cast the spell Bollide. 

Hands flaming from charging the elemental attack, Varrus let the spell form for an additional 2-3 seconds to give it a little extra oomph, he Varrus took aim, and released. 

Instantly, a basketball sized flaming meteorite escaped Varrus' hands, and streaked across the sky. 

Hot fire scorched brilliantly across the horizon. Due to the nature of the spell, the further it had to travel, the more and more speed it picked up! 

If at first the meteorite traveled as fast as the average Skyrim spell, it more than tripled that speed as it closed in on its target. 

Having aimed at a medium sized ship containing hundreds of Trolls, Varrus held his breath as he awaited impact. 

Seconds after his release, the meteorite finally collided with the lightning shield coating the boat. 

Bright colors and a huge flash of light briefly stunned Varrus' eyes, yet he never once looked away. 

The super heated rock exploded into a thousand chunks of debris, rocking the boat, and causing a mini sonic boom. 

Varrus allowed himself a moment of disappointment that he couldn't one shot the boat. However, he was quick to notice that the lightning shield had grown dimmer, and was flickering so much, it was nearly translucent. 

Having watched this happen before when the mages attacked the smaller canoes, Varrus knew he had to strike quickly, otherwise the shield would recharge. 

Undeterred, Varrus charged up another meteorite, and let loose once more. 

The hot streak of flaming rock slammed into the ship once more. 

This time, the shield fluttered, and almost looked like it would block the Bollide. However, the meteorites increased speed and powerful momentum was too much for the shield to handle. 

Like a finger puncturing a balloon or latex glove, the magical rock of death penetrated deep into the ship's hull, and exploded within. 

A great eruption of flame consumed the vessel, resulting in several Elven soldiers to cheer. Several flaming Trolls threw themselves into the water, and Varrus didn't know if they lived or died. 

However, he did hear the ding of his Destruction skill level up, indicating the demise of several Trolls. Technically his first kill, Varrus was so full of adrenaline, he didn't have time to care about morality. This was war! 

Every second, he was thinking about how to further his chances of survival, and getting Destruction up to Expert was his primary means of doing so.

He had some sinister plans for the Trolls once he passed that threshold, but that could wait until they made landfall. What mattered now was that a modicum of hope had been restored to the men and women arrayed on the beach down below. 

While Varrus began to contemplate his future killing spree, and continued to launch Bollide after Bollide in an attempt to thin the herd, Kael'Thas was carrying out an attack of his own. 

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Kael ruffled the feathers of his loyal Phoenix companion, Al'ar, eliciting a friendly chirp back. 

"Soon Al'ar, soon we will burn them all down." Kael muttered. 

Al'ar emitted a warm light, soothing Kael's raging emotions. 

"Of course, you are right my friend. First the Trolls, then the Undead." Kael nodded along. 

"Watah wah boh boh!" A Troll riding a dragonhawk screamed as he tossed a spear at Kael. 

Al'ar easily evaded the weapon, but dozens more came his way. 

Kael frowned. He did not like the sickly purple-green energy radiating off the tips of those spears. The scent of mana was oily, yet he couldn't help but be intrigued. What was this new power? 

"Your Majesty!" A dragonhawk knight Kael barely recognized as one of Varrus' followers-Koren something? The son of his father's supporter, Tou'vor-flew in front of him, and slew an enemy Troll. 

Blinking his eyes, Kael regained his composure, then directed his phoenix companion toward the enemy. 

Bolt after bolt of crimson fire balls launched themselves out of Al'ar's beak like water from a squirt gun. 

Each breath attack instantly immolated a Troll, as well as consumed their dragonhawk mount. 

However, despite the phoenix's impressive contributions, the battle was slowly going in the Trolls favor, as the Troll dragonhawk riders outnumbered the Knights of the Hawk four to one. 

Hundreds of spears, and the occasional lightning bolt came at Kael at a rate he could barely keep up with. As it stood, he was surrounded on all sides, and trapped from reinforcements. 

Was this all he would amount to? The shortest reigning monarch in all of Quel'Thalas? 

Kael pursed his lips in melancholy as he gripped his friends feathers for comfort. 

"Hyaa! Protect His Majesty!" Koren along with a squadron of knights formed into a wedge formation, and blasted through two dozen Trolls harassing Kael'Thas's flank. 

Seeing several brave knights sacrifice themselves to break him out of the encirclement, Kael felt that passion swell up in his heart once again. 

These were his people. People willing to die for him. He could not, no would not let them do so any more!

Halting his phoenix from leaving the encirclement, Kael thrust his hands straight into the sky as he muttered the words to a spell. 

"Your Majesty! Now is the time to make our escape!" Koren yelled over the strong gale. 

"It's over!" Another knight cried in worry as the Troll dragonhawk riders had caught up, and renewed their barrage. 

Kael's eyes glowed deep blue, then flashed as he finished his spell. 

Right when the spears and lightning bolts were about to pierce his skin, a cyclone erupted from the center of his body. 

The column of frantically twisting wind seemed to have a life of its own as it sucked up the spears, and lightning, then directed the attacks back at the ones who had thrown them. 

Many a Troll attempted to maneuver out of the way, but without fail, every single one of them were pierced by their own spear. 

Trolls howled in pain as the queer, poisonous magic tipped on their spears turned their flesh purple and strange. They opened their mouths to scream, but nothing would come out. Coupled with the Troll regeneration factor, these particular combatants suffered a slow, agonizing death.

Not even the shamans were safe as their own chain lightning was carried by the vortex of wind and murder. Many a shaman looked on, wide eyed as they convulsed atop their mounts. Dragonhawk wings stiffened, and dozens of other Trolls caught in the chain attack as collateral fell into the ocean, stiff as a board. 

Kael'Thas heard his name chanted from the shoreline, and he allowed himself a small smile. 

As a leader in the Kirin Tor, Kael'Thas was a respected figure for his knowledge and magical prowess. As a boy, he was held on a pedestal like the kingdom's favorite doll. Only now, after decades of scorn and distant veneration did he truly feel the love of his people. That he belonged. 

"They love me, they truly love me. Remarkable." Kael muttered to Al'ar, unknowingly shedding a tear as he basked in the warmth of the sun. 

"Your Majesty, do you have enough Mana Crystal's? I have extra." The Dragonhawk Knight Commander, Koren said as he flew next to Kael'Thas. 

However, Kael was lost in a world of his own. He doubted whether they loved him, Kael'Thas, or the idea of him, the Monarch of Quel'Thalas. 

In the end, while he enjoyed the praise, leadership was the furthest thing on his mind. He should be in Dalaran, swooning after Jaina Proudmoore, at least he would be, if it weren't for… 

"Arthas." Kael all but snarled to himself. 

His people no longer had the Sunwell, it was all that smug bastard's fault. His father, his girl, his land. He took everything from him, and he would pay! 

"My Prince? My Prince, please take these stones, you are looking unwell. Is the mana exhaustion severe?" Koren said with a concerned look. 

"I'm fine!" Kael barked back, then took out a Mana Crystal from his mageweave bag. 

Absorbing its power, Kael pushed on Al'ar's sides to speed up.

With the aerial threat eliminated, Kael scanned the enemy searching for the Zul'Jin. If he could eliminate the head of the snake, then the Trolls would melt back into the forests like they always had. 

For now, he had set his sights on one of the totem ships empowering the enemy. 

Urging Al'ar to move ever faster, he made his attack run. 

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Koren looked on, speechless as His Majesty, Prince Kael'Thas left to engage the fleet without coordinating with his squadron. 

He respected the Prince's battle prowess, but a little communication would've been appreciated. 

"Orders, sir?!" A knight said from the side. 

"We support His Majesty!" Koren took only a second to come to a decision to order.

He then recklessly charged forth, leading his squadron into certain peril. 

Shaking his head however, Koren could only wonder to himself how many more suicidal charges his unit had left in them! 

Koren could only believe in Varrus to come up with a miracle like he did the other day. So long as he was on the field, Koren held out hope that victory was all but certain! 

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