New Conflicts

A/N: Story is complete, just working on the editing


Daniel crouched low in the marshes of Dustwallow. He was one of many forward scouts watching and waiting for another incursion into the last remaining bastion of Alliance territory on the continent of Kalimdor. The city state of Theramore was the last remaining human friendly outpost in what was now being called the Fourth War. The Night-elves of Teldrasil had long been scattered when the World Tree had finally succumbedd to it's inherent corruption, and the survivors taking refuge near Horde settlements was what had likely started this conflict three years ago.

Everyone knew that the Orcs and their allies would be coming to Dustwallow Marsh next. With it's proximity to three major horde cities, it was only surprising that it hadn't bee the first on the list of cities to be razed. The only question was would it come from the sea and the Troll controlled Echo Islands, by land from Mulgor and the Barrens, or by air directly from Durotar. Daniel placed his money on all three options.

He had been in the field for three weeks when he got his answer. From his hide out at the edge of the swamps, he began to see the buildup of the Horde army. He spotted numerous encamped Orcs, and evidence of light siege equipment, only light vehicles were likely to be usable in the swamps until they made it to the city walls.

The Gnomes hadn't yet built a portable radio, but what he had was good enough. The device could send out pulses of noise, the pattern indicated the message. He keyed in the prearranged code for sighting the enemy, with an estimation of numbers, and waited for a response. He continued trying to count the numbers a types of troops that he was seeing. It wasn't long before the operator on the other end signaled him to return to base.

Three hours later he had arrived and was promptly summoned by the scout officer to give his report, "Sir, I make at least 5000 orcs and taurens, and 20 of their light cannons"

The officer looked grim. After the losses suffered trying to help there remaining allies, there were only 7000 or so troops left in and around Theramore, and Stormwind and Ironforge had committed all their troops to the vicious fighting against the undead in and around the ruins of Lorderon. Even with a numerical superiority, Theramore would likely fall in less then a month, for a human solder was not equal to an Orc or a Tauren on the battlefield.

"Dismissed Daniel, good work," was all he said. Daniel was aware of the thoughts passing through the officer's mind as he made his way to the barracks. He needed to get supplies before he went back to his scouting duties, and maybe he'd even get a little sleep

He got a few hours of sleep, in an actual cot no less, before he had to make his way back to the edge of the marsh. His position as a scout likely meant that he would be one of the first to die in the coming battle, and he hoped he would be able to take as many of those green skinned bastards with him as possible before he died.

***

When he made it back to the edge of the marsh, he used the scope on his rifle to get a close up view of the horde camp. The numbers looked like they may have increased, and there were definite signs that they were getting ready to march. There was so very little cover in the Horde camp, that even if the Alliance had only a hand-full of artillery cannons available, they would be able to make mincemeat of them during the opening fighting outside the marsh. Unfortunately all the cannons that Theramore had left were too heavy for use this far forward, and were to be used as the last ditch defense of the city and it's out lying towers to buy the city a little more time.

When the Orc cavalry started forward, Daniel said a final prayer to the light, and readied himself. His rifle was an order of magnitude better then those used in the last major war against the Liche king, it was a finely machined piece of gnomish engineering, and would out-range anything the Horde had in use by almost a fifty yards.

As he was centering his sights on an officer in the lead formation, a sudden flash from the main camp drew his attention. He lowered his rifle and gazed as a column of fire rose into the sky. It looked like one of the rockets he had heard the goblins were playing with. He saw three more of them light off and he tried to understand what they were doing. They were definitely curving towards the marsh, but the accuracy that the rocket delivered bombs allowed for meant that even the biggest explosives that could be packed into one would land too far from anything to do much damage.

He returned his attention to the troops in front of him. They were now close enough to discern what type of troops they were. Advancements in technology on both sides of the conflict had rendered most swords obsolete, and even magic, being replaced by guns, either backed up by or supported with magic. That's was he guessed was coming his way. Riflemen, and shamans wielding magic. He sighted in on one of the officers and was about to pull the trigger when the rockets landed. Even as far away as he was from the base, where half of Theramore defenders happened to be stationed, he felt waves of magic roll over him. He turned and saw the glows of magic dying away, they had landed near the base, and in the distance he thought he saw additional flashes from where he suspected the city to be.

In a handful of moments, most of the last defenders of Theramore had been killed, and if he was right and the last of the rockets had hit any where near the city, it was possible that thousands of civilians had also been killed. He was so shocked he didn't see the orc step from around a tree. The last thing he felt was the impact of the stock of a rifle against the back of his head.