A War of Thorns - World of Warcraft AU Fanfiction
The cool, damp floors of the Undercity seeped into the shoes and souls of the gathering Sylvanas had called in her Royal Chamber. The Huntmaster shifted from foot to foot and rest a hand on the warm hide of their fel core hound companion to stave away the chill of the room. The undead seemed unbothered by the atmosphere, and the lack of chairs, as relentless in their mundane activities as they ever were in battle.
A mage blinked into the room, looking apprehensive and apologetic; still, the Warchief nodded to them in greeting, and Nathanos whispered audibly to the assembly, "That's the last of us, my Queen."
"Thank you, my Champion. And thank you all for coming," Sylvanas awarded the crowd. Many bowed their heads in reverence, others stood in silent anticipation. "I'm glad you all could make it so quickly."
"We are at your call, Warchief," assured Baine Bloodhoof.
Sylvanas paused. For barely an instant, but for long enough, that those who knew her noticed her moment of hesitation. When she continued, it was clear that she had prepared remarks, and spoke with the practiced calm of authority.
"Silithus. That has been the name of the game ... or rather, that is what I wanted the Alliance to believe.
"Azerite is powerful. Just as powerful as it is rumored to be, and while it bubbles up from the core of our aching world, it feeds the lands, and the mountains ... and any who wishes to tap its source.
"High Overlord Saurfang is leading an army towards Silithus. By now, he should be in the Eastern Barrens. I want you to intercept him and notify him that the preparations are complete.
"Preparations for what, you might ask? Why, we are going to capture the World Tree."
Unease shifted about the room. Sylvanas raised her arms to quiet any encroaching whispers as she moved to elaborate, now pacing before each attending member of her assembly, measuring them.
"For the past few weeks the Tree has been feeding on the blood of Azeroth. It is a power that we do not yet understand with clear destructive ability. We cannot allow it to remain in the hands of the Alliance. Even if we were to collect every stone we should come across imbued with Azerite - it could hardly measure up to the quantity being spoon fed to our enemies.
"Regardless of any peace we have fostered during the war against the Legion, the Alliance will turn against us. They always do. We cannot simply hope that once the Tree has fed upon Azerite for twenty years, a hundred, a thousand - that they would not loose that power against us, destroying everyone and every thing we hold dear. We must face this impossible threat now, while it is still in its infancy."
She sighed, lowering her head and raising her eyes to the Shadowblade, the leader of her rogues and assassins as she continued her command, "The kaldorei will defy our occupation unless we break their spirits. For this we must inflict a blow which will show them what is at stake. Malfurion must die."
"As you command," they answered, fading into the shadows with little fanfare, but the Archdruid in attendance stepped forward, ready to voice their opinion. Sylvanas raised a hand, and the room stayed quiet.
"I will not be taking council at this time. Of course I have weighed the value of the Dreamweavers and our other allies, and what this may do to our forces, the elements, our resources and our lands ... I'm sorry," she insisted with distinction, "but this is just too important.
"Meet with Saurfang. I will see you on the battlefield."
Saurfang fought as hard as any of them when time came for the attack, and yet he ordered mercy as often as possible, allowing many of the Alliance to retreat away from the destruction. Sylvanas would raise one long flickering eyebrow, but allowed it, as the night elves were not the target of this attack - if they should survive as refugees in Stormwind and put a strain on their resources, then so be it.
However, it was he and one other who found themselves facing Malfurion - all raging in their fray for different reasons. When the First of the Druids fell, Saurfang found himself hesitating - for being unable to tackle this foe on his own, he felt was not a fair fight. From the Trees, the Archdruid of the Dreamweavers revealed themselves, and offered to take Malfurion away to the Dreamgrove, where he might still appear a coward and a failure for the Warchief's purposes, but then might not tarnish Saurfang's honor. The old orc allowed them to leave, before retiring himself from this battlefield, to await the sight of the Veiled Sea.
The remaining champion had to bring the news of Malfurion's escape to Sylvanas and the other leaders of the Horde. The Warchief's instinct was to rage, and she dismissed Baine Bloodhoof for appearing too relieved of this outcome, much to his chagrin.
The champions of the Horde were struck by the sight on the horizon of Auberdine. The World Tree lit up the afternoon sky like a beacon, the amber and gold patterning that was visible in all Azerite materials shining gloriously over the open shores.
The Alliance took the fight to the sea, extending too many of their forces forward from the fortress of Darnassus. When the Horde finally made landfall at Teldrassil, the inside of the World Tree was in a panic. Goblin-flyers began drilling into the outside of its branches and the blinding sparks scattered into the seas below.
From the Temple of Elune, Tyrande gave her orders. She pushed more of her forces to the shores, unable to face the gravity of her situation. The battle raged for hours, and the Horde continued to push her strained forces to the mouth of the Tree, into Teldrassil - it was blasphemy and inconceivable. Try as they might, the hippogryph riders left to her were unable to curtail the goblins boring into her home from all sides. The screaming of her people and her Goddess filled her ears and her heart, as the truth became clear to her. She called for retreat. She called for the evacuation of everyone. The Horde could not be allowed the Azerite and could not be allowed her children. They would abandon the World Tree, and burn it to the ground in their leaving.
Portals were opened all over Darnassus. Hearthstones were distributed freely. An elite team of priests and mages and druids gathered in the upper reaches of Teldrassil and prayed for forgiveness as they called upon the element of fire as a spherical inferno grew to encompass the upper reaches of the World Tree. The Horde forces fell into the destruction as the final holding line of night elves vanished with teleportation magic. Sylvanas screamed.
It took hours for the blaze to burn down to a smolder. Large portions of the Azerite infused wood fell into the sea - black and red, useless and irretrievable. Though the Horde had succeeded in keeping this power source from their perceived enemies, it appeared that they too had lost this resource. Until Nathanos caught sight of it, a white gleaming portion of the world Tree, the edges of which glittered blue and gold.
"It must have splintered off before the blaze corrupted it," he mused as Sylvanas raised a hand up towards it, keeping her fingertips just a breath from touching the Azerite. She looked up at it, the piece stood nearly three stories high, and about thirty meters across. It would never be fed from the Azerite in the soil, but it was still a powerful find. She called out a victory to her troops and arranged for a contingent of mages to spend the next three days teleporting it to the Mage Quarter in the Undercity.
Word inevitably reached the Alliance that the Horde had recovered this piece of the World Tree, and none advocated louder for its return to the night elves than Tyrande. She may have exaggerated the power of this one piece of Azerite, but as much as Sylvanas knew - Tyrande could not stomach the symbolism and importance. This was their home. It was the right of the night elves to win back this one small piece when they had to leave all else in ashes.
Greymane, whose family had been so close to the fighting, and King Anduin, who maintained a strong skepticism of the Banshee Queen, both agreed and preparations for the Battle of Lordaeron were arranged.
The armies of the Alliance were so awesome in size that stealth would be an impossibility. Their victory would have to come with force and strategy. The Horde knew they were coming days in advance, and once again Sylvanas called out to her forces to amass in the name of the Horde.
The civilians of the Undercity were evacuated long before the Alliance armies could be seen from the parapets of Lordaeron.
“They didn’t even think to treat with me,” Sylvanas shared sadly with Saurfang. “Just came straight for war.”
He could see his defeat approaching, his mind swirling with the guilt of his fight with Malfurion, the judgement of his shaman, and the weakness of the soldiers in his command.
When he abandoned his forces, many felt the pain of his betrayal.
The battle never turned in favor of the Alliance, for it was always in their favor. When Jaina Proudmoore arrived on the battlefield, all honor and glory for her king, Sylvanas knew it was time. She had her troops prepare barrels and barrels of plague, and then loosed it into the spiraling catacombs she had once called home. They would drown this piece of the World Tree in it, and they would not relinquish the Undercity. Lordaeron would always belong to the Forsaken.
After the irony of destroying their own ... ancestral lands, also passed, Sylvanas had her forces teleport away in much the same way the night elves had; and ensured their remaining flying ships took to the skies in retreat.
"This was our home," Sylvanas said to her champions. Her eyes wavered on the undead in her company. "We have lost this home once in life, and now - and now in death -"
While she initially appeared as if she might have had a point she was striving towards with this statement, Sylvanas lost herself in her words. Her mind railed with memories of Arthas' destruction.
Lor'themar spoke, "We have all lost much. But the kaldorei had never lost anything in the way we had, prior to the World Tree."
Sylvanas shook her head as she regained herself. "Exactly. This. This is still a victory. We have proven ourselves as resilient in the past, and we will continue to do so, again and again. Until the Alliance grants us a peace we can believe in. Or until absolute victory."
