A/N: If you've enjoyed reading this story and want to hop on board my next story right at the moment of its conception, please check out The Soul Engine for me! It just started today and I'm really excited for it~
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Taking on Quetz’lun’s form is nothing like the previous two. The Wind Serpent Loa was known as the Loa of Cunning, and the feeling of their connection broadening is a little strange. Having Quetz’lun’s attention upon him is definitely a strange sensation, but at least it feels… approving, especially once the Loa sees through his eyes exactly what Rognak is facing.
Rising into the air alongside Kael’thas and his dragonhawk riders, he notices the Sunstrider Prince glancing in his direction. Feeling some amusement, Rognak beats his wings viciously, calling upon the wind itself to do two things for him. One, he sends biting gales down upon the first wave of their enemies, cutting through the carapaces of the lesser Nerubians on the frontlines. Two, he sends somewhat gentler waves of wind through the air under the dragonhawks, giving the Blood Elves and their mounts a favorable wind that sees them surging forward.
Taken a little bit by surprise, Kael’thas and his soldiers nevertheless adapt just as quickly as Rognak expects of them, resulting in the first clash between the expeditionary forces and the Nerubian threat going quite favorably for them. By the time that first wave manages to hit, it’s been reduced to less than half of what it initially was, allowing those on the ground to pick off the remainder without issue.
Of course, they don’t exactly have time to crow in victory. The second wave is right behind the first, and it quickly becomes apparent that Rognak and the others in the air aren’t going to be able to continue to reduce each force of Nerubians in the same way they did the first.
Especially since the magical haste that Rognak gave to Kael’thas and his fellow dragonhawk riders only granted them a few moments of surprise before the Nerubians in the back began to adapt. The air fills with Nerubian Flyers as well, along with the spell fire of Nerubian Spellcasters. This is not the single-minded ambush that the Sunstrider Prince had to save them from days ago. This is a fortified location, where the Scourge and their Legion allies have concentrated their firepower.
Thankfully, while there are a lot more spellcasters both from the Cult of the Damned and the Nerubians, it seems that Balnazzar is the only demon on the field. And even he has taken up a position in the far back of the undead’s reinforced lines that only Rognak’s bird’s eye view of the battlefield even lets him see.
Kel’thuzad and Anub’arak on the other hand, are much closer, being still up on the ridge’s edge where they’ve been since the beginning. And as Rognak focuses on the pair, he knows down to his currently shapeshifted bones that this isn’t a battle of attrition they can win. The undead might not be endless, but they are numerous. This isn’t the Scourge of a future that would never be, at least. This wasn’t the Scourge after Arthas Menethil donned the Helm of Domination and had years upon years to consolidate his holdings and build up his fortifications.
And yet… Rognak doesn’t see the last gasp of defiance that he was hoping for. No, both Kel’thuzad and Anub’arak look too much at ease for that. Not that it’s that easy for Rognak to read the Nerubian Crypt Lord’s facial expressions in the first place, but considering the way the Nerubian King is all but lounging up on the ridge, he’s clearly not feeling pressed. And Kel’thuzad is barely doing anything beyond casting a frighteningly powerful Frostbolt every once in a while.
They’re expecting to wear them down, Rognak eventually realizes. So far, the expedition’s ground forces are making careful headway, moving inches forward at a time as they pile up Nerubian bodies. The losses at this point are negligible, especially with how much in the way of healing they have on their side. But at the same time, Rognak can see what lays beyond the ridge from his vantage point. Not an endless wave of undeath… but certainly enough to disturb him. Enough to make him realize that they think they can outlast them.
Is that it? Or do they have something else up their sleeve?
Rognak stiffens in the process of slicing his way through another dozen or so Nerubian Flyers, tearing the airborne undead creatures apart with his massive talons and summoning up more wind to completely disrupt their flying and further enhance the capabilities of his allies. Quetz’lun’s form was powerful… but it did mean he had a voice in the back of his head, ready to speak up whenever it struck the Wind Serpent Loa’s fancy.
Mm, I’m glad you’re enjoying the physical nature of my form, young druid. But consider this… you currently embody ALL of my traits. And it’s not my physical form that I consider my greatest asset. Look closer. Think about who it is you’re facing.
Rognak narrows his eyes at that and does as he’s told. Quetz’lun is right, after all. He has taken the form of the Loa of Cunning, and with that, much like with Akali and Har’koa, that’s having a mental influence on him as well. He’s seeing things more clearly, viewing things through the lens of a strategist even though he’s truthfully never been much of one.
With his bird’s eye view of the entire battlefield, Rognak finds himself recognizing what’s REALLY happening. The expeditionary force is winning, there’s no doubt about that. So why are the enemy leaders so… unconcerned? Well, it turns out Kel’thuzad is NOT just standing there casting a Frostbolt ever so often. It takes Rognak focusing on the floating Lich’s teeth to see it, seeing as the bastard doesn’t have lips… but they’re moving. Kel’thuzad is speaking.
What he’s saying, Rognak doesn’t know. But now that he’s actually looking for it, he sees that while the Lich’s one hand DOES shoot out every once in a while to fire off another Frostbolt, his other hand is pointed towards the ground, to the snow under his floating form. No… not to the snow. UNDER the snow.
Rognak’s transformed eyesight focuses in and he sees something he’s not sure how he missed before. A… flowing of energy is traversing across the ground as the living ground forces fight their way through the Nerubians beneath the ridge. Carefully hidden among the spiky rocks that make up the ridge is… a trail of sorts. And through that trail, power is crawling its way back up.
Yessss… now you begin to see, little druid. Look closer. Something is wrong.
Sacrifices, Rognak belatedly realizes. Only then does he truly see it. The living have taken some casualties by this point, but not many. However… NONE of those casualties have been risen as undead. Despite the massive amount of enemy spellcasters on the field, not one Necromancer was taking the time to reach out and add insult to injury by resurrecting their dead.
Why? Well, it was quickly becoming clear just why that was. There was a spell in the works. A ritual, it would seem. But Kel’thuzad wasn’t the ritual caster. He was merely a conduit… as were many of the other spellcasters, now that Rognak knew what to look for. All of them were handicapping themselves, splitting their focus between the battle and whatever it was they were TRULY up to. There were multiple flows of power moving back behind enemy lines, drawing energy not just from the scant few deaths that the expedition had suffered so far, but also from the Nerubian fodder that was being slaughtered en masse.
And all of that power… was flowing back towards Balnazzar, the dreadlord standing far behind enemy lines, his eyes glowing with fel green magic and his clawed hands aloft now, covered in a mixture of both necromantic death magic and demonic fel magic alike.
All of this, Rognak takes in within a split second. It’s as though time itself has frozen to allow him to properly process everything he’s seeing. A gift from Quetz’lun no doubt, though the Wind Serpent Loa isn’t done whispering advice into his ear.
You see the threat, druid. You see the trap. There is only one way to handle something like this. You must strike first. You must strike decisively.
It’s good advice, Rognak decides after only a moment. And along with it comes a sensation, something building in his chest from Quetz’lun. The air fills with static as he beats his wings faster and faster. Power expands within him, lightning itself dancing around his rib cage. His eyes spark and shine with barely contained power, as Rognak points his maw in the direction of Balnazzar’s ritual, intending to disrupt and end it before he and Kel’thuzad can manage to bring whatever they’re planning to fruition.
Unfortunately, part of gathering up enough power to stop such a thing is making yourself very obvious and very visible. Rognak doesn’t see Kel’thuzad notice his actions, nor does he get to see the Lich’s reaction… but he definitely gets to hear it as the undead’s panicked words suddenly echo across the battlefield.
“THE WIND SERPENT! IT’S TARGETTING LORD BALNAZZAR! STOP IT!”
But it’s too late for that, Rognak can’t help but think with vicious satisfaction. He opens his maw and blinding lightning gathers in his jaws, coming up from his chest, eager to be expelled. And so it flies, exploding forth in a nice, straight, crackling beam of raw power, heading straight for a startled and surprised looking Balnazzar.
For a moment, the dreadlord’s widened eyes are all Rognak sees… and then, much to everyone’s shock, the beam is intercepted by an unlikely source.
Anub’arak has lifted himself up at Kel’thuzad exclamation… and thrown himself upwards on massive, heavy wings. Rognak hadn’t even known the Crypt Lord could fly, but now he does because that’s exactly what Anub’arak does. The Nerubian King flies directly into the path of the beam, taking it directly on his powerful carapace.
A massive cracking sound echoes across the battlefield as Anub’arak’s carapace shatters and Rognak’s beam of raw lightning shoots into the Crypt Lord underneath, burrowing through flesh. For a brief moment, it looks like it might not matter. It looks like he might go straight through the Nerubian and still manage to reach his original target.
But no… the beam is dissipated and weakened enough that when it hits the other side of Anub’arak’s body, striking his carapace from the inside this time… it doesn’t make it through.
As his borrowed power runs out, Rognak can only watch in dismay as Anub’arak’s smoking corpse falls back to the snow below. Dismay… because he can see the malevolent smile on Balnazzar’s face as the dreadlord takes those upraised claws of his and SLAMS them down into the ground at his feet.
Kel’thuzad, also seeing this, lets out a wicked cackle.
“Yes! YES! Now you shall see! Now you shall all see! Northrend belongs only to the dead and the damned!”
The ritual comes to fruition long before Rognak can hope to gather up another blast of energy. He can only watch helplessly as something begins tearing its way out of the ice. Only then does he see what they were truly up to. Only then does he find out what they hid under the snow.
“Behold! Even the dragons themselves serve the Lich King!”
Rognak didn’t have time to beat himself up over it, but he remembered this. Sapphiron was one of the oldest members of the Blue Dragonflight, and one of Arthas Menethil’s earlier victims from what Rognak’s past life told him. However, with Arthas’ death, Rognak had put the ancient blue dragon out of his mind. After all, what was the likelihood that without Arthas and Frostmourne, they would be able to raise such a powerful dragon as a Bone Wyrm?
As it turned out, the likelihood was fairly high when you added one of the more powerful Nathrezim to the mix. Balnazzar’s assistance was crucial to getting this done, Rognak could imagine, because the Sapphiron that came out of the ice wasn’t just glowing blue with frost and necromantic magic. No, its eyes blazed with a familiar sickly green as well, and its claws were coated in Fel.
As Anub’arak’s corpse is hitting the ground, Sapphiron is leaving it. The titanic Bone Wyrm lets out a cry that echoes across the entire battlefield, before lunging forward and sending Rognak, Kael’thas, and all of the other dragonhawk riders scattering to the sides to avoid it. In the face of such a massive creature, they would have to form up and take it down together. However, even with that said, there would undeniably be losses. Not even in Quetz’lun’s form would Rognak be able to ‘tank’ such a monster for long.
They-
Look!
Quetz’lun’s warning is the only reason he sees it. So focused on how they’re going to fight this thing in the skies, Rognak almost misses that Sapphiron isn’t trying for ANY of them. Rather, as the expedition’s flyers all scatter in every direction, Sapphiron… turns its focus towards the ground. And as glowing green begins building in its open maw, Rognak sees in an instant that those on the ground, rallied around Tyrande and Cenarius… they don’t see what’s coming. They’re much too distracted by what’s right in front of them.
Rognak doesn’t want to see what sort of damage Sapphiron’s breath will do, especially when the Bone Wyrm is infused with Fel Magic. In an instant, he turns downwards and begins diving, panicking as he looks for a solution.
Only one option, in the end.
… Quetz’lun is right. The Wind Serpent Loa puts forth an idea and Rognak… Rognak heeds it for what other choice does he have? As he drops through the air like a speeding arrow, he discards the form of the Wind Serpent Loa, forgoing his wings and the ability of flight. Transforming back into himself for only a moment, Rognak then reaches for another of the Drakkari Loa… and thankfully, feels the form he’s hoping to take answer his call.
As he drops, Sapphiron’s fel-infused breath leaves the hulking Bone Wyrm’s immense maw, flying through the air directly towards Tyrande, Cenarius, and the vast majority of their healers, both druids and priestesses. Finally noticing it, the High Priestess of Elune and Lord of the Forest both look up too late to do anything about it, their eyes widening as the wave of fel-infused frost breath hurtles through the air towards them.
However, just before it can hit… Rognak is there. Not as himself, or he wouldn’t have been able to do much at all besides die with them. No, as he lands in front of them, Rognak towers over the grouped healers, having taken the hulking, immense form of Mam’toth, the Mammoth Loa of the Drakkari Empire.
Hm. This will hurt, young one.
In comparison to Quetz’lun’s hissing whispers, Mam’toth’s tone is more exacting and firm. Rognak is reminded of a future that would never be, where the Mammoth Loa would destroy himself, his temple, and all of the worshippers present when he learned of his followers’ plans. In the end… the Mammoth Loa was not unwilling to make the sacrifice play. And neither was Rognak.
Still, Mam’toth is right. Sapphiron’s breath does hurt, even as it slams into Rognak’s shaggy side, hitting him hard and damn near bowling him over into the group of healers he’s trying to protect. But Rognak sets himself in place and takes every last bit of it all the same. He stands his ground… and he tanks the blow.
GRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!
But not without costs. Mam’toth’s roar of pain echoes through Rognak’s psyche, and even as the last of the fel-infused frost breath comes to an end, Rognak finds himself collapsing back and rapidly shrinking as his connection to the Mammoth Loa is subsequently severed, the power lost to him. He can only hope Mam’toth is not too hurt… but it’s clear he won’t be able to change back into the Mammoth Loa any time soon.
Landing in the snow, feeling absolutely gutted, Rognak can only stare up at the sky as Sapphiron flies past overhead, crying out in triumph and swiping down a few of Kael’thas’ flyers at the same time.
Meanwhile, Cenarius and Tyrande are almost immediately at his sides, their power washing over him. Felfire tries to cling to him, but his form has shrunk so much and they get to him fast enough that the worst of it cannot manage to find purchase on his body. Even still, when he tries to lift himself to his feet, he damn near fails. It takes Maiev and Naisha’s combined efforts after the pair of Wardens rush up to pull him into a standing position. It’s then that he sees Tyrande looking at him… and then to the hulking Bone Wyrm, Sapphiron has flown off into the distance… but even now turns around for another pass.
“… Retreat! Fall back!”
Rognak’s eyes widen as the High Priestess gives the order. The Night Elves in the expedition immediately move to follow it, but his orcs all pause, their honor and pride warring with good sense as they hesitate. But… looking at the state of the battlefield, Rognak realizes that Tyrande is right. Anub’arak might be dead, but there are still plenty of Nerubian ground troops. On top of that, Kel’thuzad, Balnazzar, and all the other enemy spellcasters are no longer splitting their focus. They’re free to exert their full magical might on the battlefield now.
And even if it was all of that, Rognak would have been a proponent for continuing the fight. But Sapphiron is fast approaching again… and in the end, Tyrande’s choice is the only one to be made.
“FALL BACK! Cover the healers’ retreat!”
His fellow orcs immediately answer Rognak’s call, roaring as they pull away from the fight as well, doing as he’s said and covering the priestesses and their fellow druids as they all began to pull away from the ridge.
The last group still fighting is Kael’thas and his Blood Elves… but even the Sunstrider Prince realizes the day is lost and despite the obvious frustration on his face, gives the call to pull back and fall in with the rest of the expedition. Sapphiron hounds them of course, but with Cenarius and Tyrande more prepared, they’re able to block some of the massive Bone Wyrm’s fel-infused attacks. Some, but not all.
They take more casualties in fleeing the battle than they did in the entire build-up to Sapphiron’s resurrection. But at least they live to fight another day.
Small comfort that, however, when the cackling laughter of Kel’thuzad echoes in Rognak’s ears long after the Lich is out of sight.
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A/N: If you've enjoyed reading this story and want to hop on board my next story right at the moment of its conception, please check out The Soul Engine for me! It just started today and I'm really excited for it~
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Taking on Quetz’lun’s form is nothing like the previous two. The Wind Serpent Loa was known as the Loa of Cunning, and the feeling of their connection broadening is a little strange. Having Quetz’lun’s attention upon him is definitely a strange sensation, but at least it feels… approving, especially once the Loa sees through his eyes exactly what Rognak is facing.
Rising into the air alongside Kael’thas and his dragonhawk riders, he notices the Sunstrider Prince glancing in his direction. Feeling some amusement, Rognak beats his wings viciously, calling upon the wind itself to do two things for him. One, he sends biting gales down upon the first wave of their enemies, cutting through the carapaces of the lesser Nerubians on the frontlines. Two, he sends somewhat gentler waves of wind through the air under the dragonhawks, giving the Blood Elves and their mounts a favorable wind that sees them surging forward.
Taken a little bit by surprise, Kael’thas and his soldiers nevertheless adapt just as quickly as Rognak expects of them, resulting in the first clash between the expeditionary forces and the Nerubian threat going quite favorably for them. By the time that first wave manages to hit, it’s been reduced to less than half of what it initially was, allowing those on the ground to pick off the remainder without issue.
Of course, they don’t exactly have time to crow in victory. The second wave is right behind the first, and it quickly becomes apparent that Rognak and the others in the air aren’t going to be able to continue to reduce each force of Nerubians in the same way they did the first.
Especially since the magical haste that Rognak gave to Kael’thas and his fellow dragonhawk riders only granted them a few moments of surprise before the Nerubians in the back began to adapt. The air fills with Nerubian Flyers as well, along with the spell fire of Nerubian Spellcasters. This is not the single-minded ambush that the Sunstrider Prince had to save them from days ago. This is a fortified location, where the Scourge and their Legion allies have concentrated their firepower.
Thankfully, while there are a lot more spellcasters both from the Cult of the Damned and the Nerubians, it seems that Balnazzar is the only demon on the field. And even he has taken up a position in the far back of the undead’s reinforced lines that only Rognak’s bird’s eye view of the battlefield even lets him see.
Kel’thuzad and Anub’arak on the other hand, are much closer, being still up on the ridge’s edge where they’ve been since the beginning. And as Rognak focuses on the pair, he knows down to his currently shapeshifted bones that this isn’t a battle of attrition they can win. The undead might not be endless, but they are numerous. This isn’t the Scourge of a future that would never be, at least. This wasn’t the Scourge after Arthas Menethil donned the Helm of Domination and had years upon years to consolidate his holdings and build up his fortifications.
And yet… Rognak doesn’t see the last gasp of defiance that he was hoping for. No, both Kel’thuzad and Anub’arak look too much at ease for that. Not that it’s that easy for Rognak to read the Nerubian Crypt Lord’s facial expressions in the first place, but considering the way the Nerubian King is all but lounging up on the ridge, he’s clearly not feeling pressed. And Kel’thuzad is barely doing anything beyond casting a frighteningly powerful Frostbolt every once in a while.
They’re expecting to wear them down, Rognak eventually realizes. So far, the expedition’s ground forces are making careful headway, moving inches forward at a time as they pile up Nerubian bodies. The losses at this point are negligible, especially with how much in the way of healing they have on their side. But at the same time, Rognak can see what lays beyond the ridge from his vantage point. Not an endless wave of undeath… but certainly enough to disturb him. Enough to make him realize that they think they can outlast them.
Is that it? Or do they have something else up their sleeve?
Rognak stiffens in the process of slicing his way through another dozen or so Nerubian Flyers, tearing the airborne undead creatures apart with his massive talons and summoning up more wind to completely disrupt their flying and further enhance the capabilities of his allies. Quetz’lun’s form was powerful… but it did mean he had a voice in the back of his head, ready to speak up whenever it struck the Wind Serpent Loa’s fancy.
Mm, I’m glad you’re enjoying the physical nature of my form, young druid. But consider this… you currently embody ALL of my traits. And it’s not my physical form that I consider my greatest asset. Look closer. Think about who it is you’re facing.
Rognak narrows his eyes at that and does as he’s told. Quetz’lun is right, after all. He has taken the form of the Loa of Cunning, and with that, much like with Akali and Har’koa, that’s having a mental influence on him as well. He’s seeing things more clearly, viewing things through the lens of a strategist even though he’s truthfully never been much of one.
With his bird’s eye view of the entire battlefield, Rognak finds himself recognizing what’s REALLY happening. The expeditionary force is winning, there’s no doubt about that. So why are the enemy leaders so… unconcerned? Well, it turns out Kel’thuzad is NOT just standing there casting a Frostbolt ever so often. It takes Rognak focusing on the floating Lich’s teeth to see it, seeing as the bastard doesn’t have lips… but they’re moving. Kel’thuzad is speaking.
What he’s saying, Rognak doesn’t know. But now that he’s actually looking for it, he sees that while the Lich’s one hand DOES shoot out every once in a while to fire off another Frostbolt, his other hand is pointed towards the ground, to the snow under his floating form. No… not to the snow. UNDER the snow.
Rognak’s transformed eyesight focuses in and he sees something he’s not sure how he missed before. A… flowing of energy is traversing across the ground as the living ground forces fight their way through the Nerubians beneath the ridge. Carefully hidden among the spiky rocks that make up the ridge is… a trail of sorts. And through that trail, power is crawling its way back up.
Yessss… now you begin to see, little druid. Look closer. Something is wrong.
Sacrifices, Rognak belatedly realizes. Only then does he truly see it. The living have taken some casualties by this point, but not many. However… NONE of those casualties have been risen as undead. Despite the massive amount of enemy spellcasters on the field, not one Necromancer was taking the time to reach out and add insult to injury by resurrecting their dead.
Why? Well, it was quickly becoming clear just why that was. There was a spell in the works. A ritual, it would seem. But Kel’thuzad wasn’t the ritual caster. He was merely a conduit… as were many of the other spellcasters, now that Rognak knew what to look for. All of them were handicapping themselves, splitting their focus between the battle and whatever it was they were TRULY up to. There were multiple flows of power moving back behind enemy lines, drawing energy not just from the scant few deaths that the expedition had suffered so far, but also from the Nerubian fodder that was being slaughtered en masse.
And all of that power… was flowing back towards Balnazzar, the dreadlord standing far behind enemy lines, his eyes glowing with fel green magic and his clawed hands aloft now, covered in a mixture of both necromantic death magic and demonic fel magic alike.
All of this, Rognak takes in within a split second. It’s as though time itself has frozen to allow him to properly process everything he’s seeing. A gift from Quetz’lun no doubt, though the Wind Serpent Loa isn’t done whispering advice into his ear.
You see the threat, druid. You see the trap. There is only one way to handle something like this. You must strike first. You must strike decisively.
It’s good advice, Rognak decides after only a moment. And along with it comes a sensation, something building in his chest from Quetz’lun. The air fills with static as he beats his wings faster and faster. Power expands within him, lightning itself dancing around his rib cage. His eyes spark and shine with barely contained power, as Rognak points his maw in the direction of Balnazzar’s ritual, intending to disrupt and end it before he and Kel’thuzad can manage to bring whatever they’re planning to fruition.
Unfortunately, part of gathering up enough power to stop such a thing is making yourself very obvious and very visible. Rognak doesn’t see Kel’thuzad notice his actions, nor does he get to see the Lich’s reaction… but he definitely gets to hear it as the undead’s panicked words suddenly echo across the battlefield.
“THE WIND SERPENT! IT’S TARGETTING LORD BALNAZZAR! STOP IT!”
But it’s too late for that, Rognak can’t help but think with vicious satisfaction. He opens his maw and blinding lightning gathers in his jaws, coming up from his chest, eager to be expelled. And so it flies, exploding forth in a nice, straight, crackling beam of raw power, heading straight for a startled and surprised looking Balnazzar.
For a moment, the dreadlord’s widened eyes are all Rognak sees… and then, much to everyone’s shock, the beam is intercepted by an unlikely source.
Anub’arak has lifted himself up at Kel’thuzad exclamation… and thrown himself upwards on massive, heavy wings. Rognak hadn’t even known the Crypt Lord could fly, but now he does because that’s exactly what Anub’arak does. The Nerubian King flies directly into the path of the beam, taking it directly on his powerful carapace.
A massive cracking sound echoes across the battlefield as Anub’arak’s carapace shatters and Rognak’s beam of raw lightning shoots into the Crypt Lord underneath, burrowing through flesh. For a brief moment, it looks like it might not matter. It looks like he might go straight through the Nerubian and still manage to reach his original target.
But no… the beam is dissipated and weakened enough that when it hits the other side of Anub’arak’s body, striking his carapace from the inside this time… it doesn’t make it through.
As his borrowed power runs out, Rognak can only watch in dismay as Anub’arak’s smoking corpse falls back to the snow below. Dismay… because he can see the malevolent smile on Balnazzar’s face as the dreadlord takes those upraised claws of his and SLAMS them down into the ground at his feet.
Kel’thuzad, also seeing this, lets out a wicked cackle.
“Yes! YES! Now you shall see! Now you shall all see! Northrend belongs only to the dead and the damned!”
The ritual comes to fruition long before Rognak can hope to gather up another blast of energy. He can only watch helplessly as something begins tearing its way out of the ice. Only then does he see what they were truly up to. Only then does he find out what they hid under the snow.
“Behold! Even the dragons themselves serve the Lich King!”
Rognak didn’t have time to beat himself up over it, but he remembered this. Sapphiron was one of the oldest members of the Blue Dragonflight, and one of Arthas Menethil’s earlier victims from what Rognak’s past life told him. However, with Arthas’ death, Rognak had put the ancient blue dragon out of his mind. After all, what was the likelihood that without Arthas and Frostmourne, they would be able to raise such a powerful dragon as a Bone Wyrm?
As it turned out, the likelihood was fairly high when you added one of the more powerful Nathrezim to the mix. Balnazzar’s assistance was crucial to getting this done, Rognak could imagine, because the Sapphiron that came out of the ice wasn’t just glowing blue with frost and necromantic magic. No, its eyes blazed with a familiar sickly green as well, and its claws were coated in Fel.
As Anub’arak’s corpse is hitting the ground, Sapphiron is leaving it. The titanic Bone Wyrm lets out a cry that echoes across the entire battlefield, before lunging forward and sending Rognak, Kael’thas, and all of the other dragonhawk riders scattering to the sides to avoid it. In the face of such a massive creature, they would have to form up and take it down together. However, even with that said, there would undeniably be losses. Not even in Quetz’lun’s form would Rognak be able to ‘tank’ such a monster for long.
They-
Look!
Quetz’lun’s warning is the only reason he sees it. So focused on how they’re going to fight this thing in the skies, Rognak almost misses that Sapphiron isn’t trying for ANY of them. Rather, as the expedition’s flyers all scatter in every direction, Sapphiron… turns its focus towards the ground. And as glowing green begins building in its open maw, Rognak sees in an instant that those on the ground, rallied around Tyrande and Cenarius… they don’t see what’s coming. They’re much too distracted by what’s right in front of them.
Rognak doesn’t want to see what sort of damage Sapphiron’s breath will do, especially when the Bone Wyrm is infused with Fel Magic. In an instant, he turns downwards and begins diving, panicking as he looks for a solution.
Only one option, in the end.
… Quetz’lun is right. The Wind Serpent Loa puts forth an idea and Rognak… Rognak heeds it for what other choice does he have? As he drops through the air like a speeding arrow, he discards the form of the Wind Serpent Loa, forgoing his wings and the ability of flight. Transforming back into himself for only a moment, Rognak then reaches for another of the Drakkari Loa… and thankfully, feels the form he’s hoping to take answer his call.
As he drops, Sapphiron’s fel-infused breath leaves the hulking Bone Wyrm’s immense maw, flying through the air directly towards Tyrande, Cenarius, and the vast majority of their healers, both druids and priestesses. Finally noticing it, the High Priestess of Elune and Lord of the Forest both look up too late to do anything about it, their eyes widening as the wave of fel-infused frost breath hurtles through the air towards them.
However, just before it can hit… Rognak is there. Not as himself, or he wouldn’t have been able to do much at all besides die with them. No, as he lands in front of them, Rognak towers over the grouped healers, having taken the hulking, immense form of Mam’toth, the Mammoth Loa of the Drakkari Empire.
Hm. This will hurt, young one.
In comparison to Quetz’lun’s hissing whispers, Mam’toth’s tone is more exacting and firm. Rognak is reminded of a future that would never be, where the Mammoth Loa would destroy himself, his temple, and all of the worshippers present when he learned of his followers’ plans. In the end… the Mammoth Loa was not unwilling to make the sacrifice play. And neither was Rognak.
Still, Mam’toth is right. Sapphiron’s breath does hurt, even as it slams into Rognak’s shaggy side, hitting him hard and damn near bowling him over into the group of healers he’s trying to protect. But Rognak sets himself in place and takes every last bit of it all the same. He stands his ground… and he tanks the blow.
GRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!
But not without costs. Mam’toth’s roar of pain echoes through Rognak’s psyche, and even as the last of the fel-infused frost breath comes to an end, Rognak finds himself collapsing back and rapidly shrinking as his connection to the Mammoth Loa is subsequently severed, the power lost to him. He can only hope Mam’toth is not too hurt… but it’s clear he won’t be able to change back into the Mammoth Loa any time soon.
Landing in the snow, feeling absolutely gutted, Rognak can only stare up at the sky as Sapphiron flies past overhead, crying out in triumph and swiping down a few of Kael’thas’ flyers at the same time.
Meanwhile, Cenarius and Tyrande are almost immediately at his sides, their power washing over him. Felfire tries to cling to him, but his form has shrunk so much and they get to him fast enough that the worst of it cannot manage to find purchase on his body. Even still, when he tries to lift himself to his feet, he damn near fails. It takes Maiev and Naisha’s combined efforts after the pair of Wardens rush up to pull him into a standing position. It’s then that he sees Tyrande looking at him… and then to the hulking Bone Wyrm, Sapphiron has flown off into the distance… but even now turns around for another pass.
“… Retreat! Fall back!”
Rognak’s eyes widen as the High Priestess gives the order. The Night Elves in the expedition immediately move to follow it, but his orcs all pause, their honor and pride warring with good sense as they hesitate. But… looking at the state of the battlefield, Rognak realizes that Tyrande is right. Anub’arak might be dead, but there are still plenty of Nerubian ground troops. On top of that, Kel’thuzad, Balnazzar, and all the other enemy spellcasters are no longer splitting their focus. They’re free to exert their full magical might on the battlefield now.
And even if it was all of that, Rognak would have been a proponent for continuing the fight. But Sapphiron is fast approaching again… and in the end, Tyrande’s choice is the only one to be made.
“FALL BACK! Cover the healers’ retreat!”
His fellow orcs immediately answer Rognak’s call, roaring as they pull away from the fight as well, doing as he’s said and covering the priestesses and their fellow druids as they all began to pull away from the ridge.
The last group still fighting is Kael’thas and his Blood Elves… but even the Sunstrider Prince realizes the day is lost and despite the obvious frustration on his face, gives the call to pull back and fall in with the rest of the expedition. Sapphiron hounds them of course, but with Cenarius and Tyrande more prepared, they’re able to block some of the massive Bone Wyrm’s fel-infused attacks. Some, but not all.
They take more casualties in fleeing the battle than they did in the entire build-up to Sapphiron’s resurrection. But at least they live to fight another day.
Small comfort that, however, when the cackling laughter of Kel’thuzad echoes in Rognak’s ears long after the Lich is out of sight.
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