Great War [Warcraft III]

Prologue - He's Just Getting Started

The sun glistened among the busy cobblestones of Riverfall. The Night Elves are going against the Undead on a full-out war, and, considering the situation, the Night Elves didn’t look too good.

“I have never thought it would be this way,” The high druid, Furion said to his wife – Tyrande Whisperwind. The Stormrage looked at the cliffs with a hint of sadness.  “The World Tree’s energy is getting siphoned by the Undead bit by bit when they are in range. Our forces cannot do anything about it either. If we do not fend them off in time, then, we are doomed.”

Tyrande patted his shoulder, “Nothing is too late, my love. We will call for the other races’ assistance. Me and my sisters will go, for the meanwhile, you and your druids can keep the Undead busy.” She said as she rode her tiger and ran off. Calling her sisters, the band of archers and huntresses headed for north – heavily defended by the Night Elven base.

“It seems like we will have to do as told, my brethren, for Cenarius.” Furion thought and ran off to the base.

Meanwhile, in the newly blighted base of the Undead, the Acolytes were conjuring a spell and making citadels – cores of the Undead base. The Acolytes then proceeded to make the Ziggurat – a four-feet tall wherein a Spirit Tower can be constructed to with the Undead’s highly advanced technologies.

“My Lord, the back up base is done. Shall we proceed with the next plan?” Said an Acolyte, floating to their master and king, Arthas. The betrayer, former prince of Lordaeron. His sword – Frostmourne, destroys even the smallest of organisms just by feeling its chills and haunted aura.

“Proceed,” The king said in a raspy, hollow voice, hurling his sword – training. “If the elves intervene, send Kel’Thuzad to defend that base. His skills will be enough in order to defend.”

“As you say, My Lord.” The Acolyte proceeded to do his business, meanwhile, Arthas is deep in pondering thoughts. The Night Elves were stronger than he expected, yet it wasn’t to be afraid of. They were Undead – their races’ strength are second to none. He looked at his sword – Frostmourne. The cries of agony of the people slain by the sword were dying in the might of the unholy sword. Arthas grinned, he felt its power radiating from the inside. He was just getting started.

“Hold your ground, warriors! We mustn’t fall!” Furion shouted, a battle cry emerged from within, setting up the druids into an unbreakable frenzy. Their strengths were increased by a ton, and it was good. They were getting swarmed with Undead monsters – not only that, the Undead joined forces with the Ogres. The two are were an hard duo to beat, protected by the Ogres’ unbreakable defense and the Undeads’ most powerful offense, although it was something Furion and his forces can’t handle.

“For Elune!” A voice came from within, Furion turned around and looked at the source of the voice – Tyrande, his one and only love. Along with the Human’s forces – Jaina Proudmoore, the orcs, led by their Warchief – Thrall. The races fought with the Undead in unison, successfully defeating the mass of Undead that almost destroyed Furion’s base.

“If this is the Undead, then how powerful is Arthas going to be?” Jaina panicked, de-summoning her Water Elemental, the elemental disappeared from toe-to-head as she de-casted the spell.

“Probably a ton more than ours,” Thrall replied, with a grim look, “That’s why we need to join our forces and defeat the Undead once and for all. This is a risky game we’re taking.”

The group remained silent, until a holographic image of Arthas appeared in the sky. “You’ve defeated my forces, pathetic alliance! An alliance made of Humans, Orcs, and Elves?! Hah, as if that’s enough to defeat me!” He taunted.

“It’ll be enough to defeat you and your pesky cronies, Arthas.” Furion shouted, pointing at the former king’s holographic image. After he said that sentence, Arthas’ face started to disappear, although a hint of a grin can be seen in his lips.

“Seems like he’s just getting started,” Furion said.