It was a dark and stormy night...
Of course, the Eye of Netherstorm was always stormy, but this one was particularly nasty. I stood still and adamant beside the Horde soldiers to my right. We were surrounded by a purple luminescent shield that protected us from the violent lightning storm until it passed. In a minute, the shield would lift and we would charge for the outposts around the Eye. Either we capture this point, or we would never return to Azeroth. The simplicity of the situation reassured me. All I would need to do was fight, survival wasn't key. Fear never once entered my mind, I can't remember what fear feels like now.
"Undead, report in!"
The grouchy orc captain Thoron shouted in my direction, and I answered with an unenthusiastic "Yes, sir."
"Listen up! We are the Horde, the Alliance can't defeat us, not here or ever. LOK'TAR O GAR!"
The others responded loudly with the Horde's beloved motto. I stood silent, anticipating. The shield dropped, and I sprinted for the nearest tower. I summoned my skeletal warhorse, Brand, and charged ahead for the tower. A few other Horde soldiers followed me and helped me place flags and defensive barricades at the tower. A lookout signaled that the Alliance had met the other soldiers at the central point. I glanced over the scene and saw many Horde warriors slain and thrown off the cliffs. The magi and firing squad at the back were forced to move back. I realized now that the other soldiers hadn't been prepared for this mission. I hadn't thought that I might have been placed in a sacrificial unit.
"Alliance scouting party, from the north!" the Horde scout called out.
I moved down the hill and prepared to jump down at the detachment. A volley of Troll arrows flew past my head, hitting the targets below. I sprang down, weapons first, into the huddle. The Alliance hadn't put up their guard yet, and I managed to kill a Draenei with my blade. I twisted around, slamming a Worgen with my shield and slashing at a nearby Human with my sword. The next few moments were a rush as arrows flew around, spells barely missed me many times, and another warrior swung his blade to meet my shield. For a few moments, the only battle I sensed was ours, our swords clashed, our shields crashed, and finally our flesh was rent and torn until the man could take no more and bled to death.
A healing spell reinvigorated my body and snapped my mind back into focus. The Horde scout had been killed by fire, but the remaining Alliance retreated back to the main line. All I had left with me was a Tauren shaman and an Orc hunter who loaded his gun and took the Troll's place as scout. He began to call out, but was interrupted by a gunshot that blew out his chest. He fell over and quickly died. The Tauren prepared his hammer and I charged the new Alliance attackers. My shield protected my body and my sword dealt death to those who came too close. I took long range spells and gunshots in my legs, forcing me to slow down. Many bones were broken and the pain began to take effect. I charged again, this time with the shaman next to me. We fought off many of the soldiers, but more replaced them. More spells were cast at us. The shaman threw up an earthen shield; I prepared to defend the sides from more attacks when a heavy force crashed down on me. The earthen shield had collapsed, and crushed me with debris. A warlock's demon had broken through it and began swinging at the shaman's head. He tried to kill it with a fire shot but was disrupted by a warrior's shout. The Tauren bravely fought until he was overwhelmed and killed. I climbed out of the debris and readied my weapons. The Alliance soldiers struck, I defended over and over, blocking axe, sword, spell, even gunshot. I fell down the cliffside to clear some distance from the magi and hunters and prepared to fight again. A shadow blotted out the little light that patched through the storm. I looked up, and saw a nether drake descend from the sky. It vanished, dropping off a well-armed Worgen, which I recognized as my brother, Ersolon.
"Small world, isn't it Parigan?" he said, to my surprise, in the Forsaken language, "But I am glad to see you again, how's death treating you?"
"Horribly, are you happy now? Kill me or die trying, but don't expect to have some dramatic, poetic last moment with your dear, departed brother," I responded hastily. I charged him and swung at his throat. He lazily parried my strike with the shaft of his spear.
"Oh, come now Pari, is that the best you can do?"
I swung again, and again. I raised my shield at his body, but he back-stepped and kicked me down. I sprang up, lunging with my blade, but he caught it with his spear and with a twist, disarmed me.
"You really have grown, little Parigan. Too bad I was always better than you," at the end of his line, he lunged at my leg, I blocked, but it was a feint. He swung around and clipped my helm. It flew off and I fell to the ground again. He leapt into the air and stabbed down at me. I rolled just as his spear met the ground. As I jumped to my feet, I grabbed my blade and swung around to intercept his attack. Again, he feinted at the last second and swept my leg, causing me to lose my balance. He slashed his claws across my face, managing to leave one bloody scar by my left eye. I backed up. He pursued. I tried to take another step, but my foot met only air. Behind me was an infinite fall into the Twisting Nether. I regained my balance and decided to make my final stand then and there. Ersolon barked out a laugh and began to close in slowly.
"Goodbye, Parigan. I will be sure to tell Father you died bravely."
He lunged, but his spear was intercepted mid-strike by the Horde captain. The orc took advantage of Ersolon’s surprise and pummeled the worgen in the chest with his armored shoulder. My brother took a step back.
"Look around you, pup! See any blue flags flying?" the captain called to Mayes. He looked around, seeing that his army had been forced to retreat.
"This isn't over, orc. I'll be sure to take your head when next we meet!"
"You talk too much,” I responded to Mayes's threat, “Fight on if you’re so confident!" He gave me a threatening gaze, but backed off, summoning his drake with a loud howl. He flew off into the storm, out of sight.
"Good work holding him off, undead,” Thoron said, turning to face me, “That worgen is an Alliance general from Gilneas, very powerful." Grol said to me. "I'll be sure to report his appearance here to the Warchief."
After the Horde reassembled at assigned posts, I mended my wounds, and reflected on my failures. Memories trickled into my mind at the thought of my brother. He had been a tall, handsome young man with the thick black hair of our family. Woman had loved him. I recalled him often forcing me to go out with him to find a girl of my own. He had been the one to crack my shell of teenage isolation, and possibly the one responsible for bringing Brinnea and me together. Conflicting emotions clouded my mind, but I shoved them away. We were enemies now, plain and simple. If we met again, I would not let him leave alive.
"I am the Night!" -Brinnea, Rikthered, Cynthya, Orgog, Kazarak.....