Epic Intervention

[Authors note: I know, Most of you probably don't even remember this story, it's been almost two years since I have even touched it. For those who did enjoy what little I had written, I am truly sorry for leaving you off at that time. The Army is a cruel mistress, but hopefully my schedule is balanced as such to where I can continue writing. Now, here is the Latest chapter! Enjoy! -Miles Nye]


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Baby it's alright now
You aint gotta flow for me
If we go there
You can still touch my love,
It's free...


The shouts of battle cries mixed with please for the mercy of a quick death, blood mixing with sweat, pooling on the ground like spilt wine. Mud caused the mobility of all but the most physically adapted beings to be weighed down, each boot feeling like around 20 pounds was added to it. Still they waged. There was no honor in this battle, to parlays, no calls for duels. This was to the death, and each being knew it. Thyone's eyes flared their tempramental green, bathing her attacker in sweet limelight right before the bulk of her sword crashed into his side, the razor edge biting through mail links that strained in protest against the violent abuse of her slash. They gave way easily, opening the way to dark blue skin of the Night Elf hunter who had decided to take her on. A bad move it turned out to be, the edge of her sword starting at his hip and opening a bloody doorway for his stringy entrails to litter the ground. Her victory was short lived, the ornamental plates of her armor grinding as a war hammer smashed her right between the shoulder blades, blood protecting out of her mouth as a howl of pain ripped itself from her throat. Her eyes flickered, vision wavering as the bloody scenery turned blueish, a sign of passing out soon to come. She fought against it and rolled, barely avoiding the blow that would have caved in her head. Her left arm came upwards blindly, her smaller dagger hitting a lucky shot in the humans neck, his life seeping through the hole she had opened in his carotid artery and windpipe. Horn blows sounded, more troops were coming.

"Damn it all...do their forces even have a limit!?" She spat, tasting her own coppery blood on her tongue, threatening to make her retch right there. A large green hand closed around her upper arm and hoisted her up onto her feet, supporting her unsteady stance as best he could whilst fighting off a Mage who had decided to get a little too close to the massive Orc warrior.

"Krazakul...Ugh..we need..." She spat out a mixture of blood and mucus into the mud, her hand feebly holding onto her sword. "We need more troops...the Alliance funnels them..*Cough, spit* like water..." She stated hazily, her vision still blurred as blood pumped through her ears, obscuring the shouts into so much white noise.

"I know commandress, but first we must get you to safety. A leader is no good when she is not able to lead.." A savage blow from his axe silenced a shaman about to entangle them, and despite herself, Thyone had an inkling that they knew: If she died, so would the battle.

This group of warriors dying on the field came together by sheer chance; they had happened to be in the same area, going for the same thing when they were beset by an Alliance raid group intent on capturing...what? Deatholme? This was the center of Dar'Khan's evil...how did the tower of the damned become their command center? The Ghostlands were slowly being reclaimed, and when the Alliance had come to offer their assistance, they were puzzled, but more than that, they were suspicious. Like that little dwarf that had infiltrated under the guise of an ambassador, A semi new sect of Alliance members calling themselves the Circle of Faith. What they had faith in, no one was sure, but Thyone had a feeling that it was going to be beneficial to anyone. Emissaries from the Circle had met with the Lords Theron, Brightwing, and Rommath to discuss such, but their skepticism had matched Thyones own, and they were sent away. Thats when the word came down, orders for her to go to the recently vacated fortress Deatholme and set up a post...the Alliance wanted it for something, but no one was sure what.

The attack was a complete surprise to both parties; Thyone's guards had captured several races of the Horde attemtping to find wealth in the damned palaces interior, and were busy moving them when the Alliance strolled right through the guards at the front gate, killing everyone. They weren't ready for all the blood elves that awaited them in the mammoth courtyard.

Now, the gate was piled high with Blood elf, Night Elf, Orc, Human, a few Tauren in the mix...the only race not really present were the Draenei.They had set their captives free, who grateful for the act of mercy, turned to Thyone for direction. Commander Firesky had been killed a few hours ago, and Thyone was the only one left who could lead them. They gave her the title commandress, and for the past three days they had been fighting, staving off wave after wave of Alliance. Help was coming from the rest of the Horde from the western Kingdoms, but the last word was 2 days ago, and they were starting to lose hope.

But they wouldn't give up hope. "This may be scoured land...but it is still Blood Elf land...we won't let them have it!" That had been 3 days ago, and now her new compatriate Krazakul the Orc, whom she called 'Skull' for short, was half helping, half dragging her up the stairs. They turned around, and she surveyed the ruin around her: Siege machines battering at every wall, enemies everywhere...they were being overrun.

"Damn it...Damn it all!" She swore, spitting another round of blood out of her mouth.

"Commandress, what shall we do?" His voice was calm, but had a tinge of nervousness to it: No one wanted to die here.

"I..*Cough*...I don't know, Skull.." The sound of a deafening blast made her teeth chatter until they found her tongue, sinking into the soft flesh, fresh blood coating her palate, making her retch the bright red liquid onto the ground, but it didn't matter: The forces of the Horde were here, already eating at their backs, tearing out their spines in more way than one, the Alliance started to scatter, and the angry shouts of Rangers and the loud bellows of the massive Tauren filled her ears like such sweet music. She idly wondered if *he* was among them...But now, she hadn't seen him in so long, Three years? yes, around that much. So much had changed. She shook her head to remove herself from her stupor in time to see the first waves crash against the allianced, and for the first time, she could actually smile.

Her vision had faltered too much, she didn't see the shaft of the arrow coming towards her until half a second too late. She had been trained to catch arrows like this, and catch it she did, [B]but only after it had buried the razor edged tip into her eye.[/B]


Her scream was unnatural, like a banshee in eternal torment. Her head lifted, directing her anguish to Elune herself, some soldiers stopping their battle on both sides to see what had happened. Her remaining eye narrowed as a gloved hand came up, and with both hands she ripped out the arrow, snapping it and shutting her eyes, blood, bits of her eyes, and more blood flowed from it. Her good eye opened, glowing bright with rage as she issued her last order for this battle:

KILL THEM ALL!


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That was it for now..Please review, i haven't done this in 2 years and it probably is pretty bad but..oh well! Flames and whatever!]