“After investigating the remnants of the caravan, I made the decision to conduct a raid. Our goal was of a purely practical nature. It was not a rescue mission. It was to deprive them of potential resources that could be used in a meaningful way against Alliance forces. Although Bluebeard’s initial reports indicated the orcs had outmatched us by a significant margin, I was confident, based on my judgment of my team’s capabilities that the situation could be handled.”

- From Patrol Report. Year 3000, 5th day of BloomingTide. Captain Elric Falmore

“Hah! I knew it. The moment I caught them in sight I knew we were going to get some green-skins!” Bluebeard said.

“Quiet. You’re going to reveal our position,” I whispered. The two of us were prone against the slope of rocky hill. The orcs were on the other side.

“Relax. Lad. Those buggers aren’t going to hear a thing. Fenstring is still flying over them. Clueless bastards,” Bluebeard said. He then resumed staring blankly into the sky, his right eye glowing as he shared vision with his hawk.

There was a crawling feeling in my gut. The closer we got the more I felt it, sapping away at my confidence. I knew what it was. Fear.

Our last encounter with orcs was nearly two years ago. Someone reported a small tribe of them in some cave in the Alterac Mountains. Our team was sent to handle them. The complication? We were to bring them in alive.

It was supposed to be simple. They weren’t fighters. We were able to tell right away, given they lacked actual armaments. The fight was damn near close, I nearly lost an arm. They fought like wild berserkers without care or abandon. Both the men and women alike.

Out of that tribe only the children made it out alive. Light be damned, the crying nearly drove me insane. Some priest and his entourage picked them up on their way to an internment camp at Durnholde Keep. The man was hopeful that the orcs could be pacified with the right education. Fat chance, but I wished him the best of luck.

Now these orcs were armed, outnumbered us, and had warlocks to boot. I gripped my warhammer tightly. I looked at my mana-gauge. 80%. It was too late to turn back now.

Bluebeard and I were on a rocky slope south of the orc encampment. Captain Falmore and Alamere were behind another hill to the north. The way west was blocked by the bottom of a cliff. Abandoned mining tunnels carved into the cliffside. The orcs were between, oblivious to the impending ambush. Their wagons lay by the mining tunnels. This was probably where the children were. This was our target.

We waited.

“Singlepipe’s got another one,” Bluebeard said.

Two down, two more to go.

“Damn gnome is one sneaky bastard. That is third one. I always thought he was bluffing when he claimed first blood against rogues in arena-fights. Why I- Hold up. One is getting close,” Bluebeard said and unslung his crossbow.

The crossbow had bolts randomly tied to its frame. Each bolt had a color that did something different. I had no idea how he was able to figure out where each bolt was but he did. He loaded one with a green tip, and crawled around the slope.

He stopped, aimed the crossbow, and the bolt flew with a twang. It landed in something mid-air. There was a surprised grunt from the orc as he appeared, the sudden hit breaking his stealth.

He wore a dark leather vest and a black hood. The orc reached for his daggers. Before he could draw a blade his hands fell. He wobbled, lost his balance, and fell with a thud as the sleeping poison did its work. He would be out for some time.

“Hah. Lousy bastard never saw it coming,” Bluebeard said then slung his crossbow. “That is four down. Let’s go!”

I stood up and rushed up the slope. Bluebeard whipped out his rifle and fired. A flare rose high into the air.

At the top of the hill I saw 6 orcs below. Some were sitting on boulders. Others lay on the ground, their wicked looking axes quite a distance away. None seemed like they were expecting an attack. Especially not in this inhospitable landscap.

The flare above began to descend. I closed my eyes. It burst in a flash of light. Surprised grunts and yells came as it blinded those who looked.

Captain Falmore appeared on the opposite hill, sword and shield in hand. Alamere came up behind. A sphere of blue energy swirling above his staff.

It was now 6 against 5. Both of our ranged attackers had the high ground against theirs. The orcs were clumped together and disorganized. We had the initiative. It was the best opening we ever had for an ambush. Luck seemed to be on our side. I hoped it would stay that for the rest of this fight. We were going to need it.

Bluebeard appeared behind me. He had already loaded another bullet and aimed his rifle into the gaggle below. There was a boom as the cannister shot burst. At the same time, Alamere thrust his staff downward, sending the blue sphere down. There were confused yelps and shrieks as pellets sprayed the blinded orcs. Half a moment later Alamere’s sphere burst as it struck the ground. Frost crystals mushroomed out from the impact. Some unlucky orcs were caught; frozen in place.

“For the Alliance!” Captain Falmore yelled and leapt. He landed with the sound of a thunderclap, knocking several orcs to the ground. I was always amazed by how agile warriors were while wearing all that armor.

I, not being a warrior, charged the slope with my warhammer raised high. By the time I got down the battle was in full-swing. The remaining orcs scrambled for their weapons. One, wearing chainmail and a horned helmet, lifted his bow and loosed an arrow at me.

I ignored it and continued forward. The arrow struck my light barrier with a spark, then ricocheted harmlessly away.

Before the hunter could draw another arrow there was a loud boom as Bluebeard’s bullet found its mark, sending the orc reeling to the ground.

One of the orcs, burst out of his frozen cage. He roared and dashed toward me. His lower fangs bared. He wore heavy red and gray plate armor. The markings of a warrior. He conveniently forgot his weapon.

He threw a wild punch. I let it glance off my light barrier and swung my warhammer in kind. The holy seal on the hammer’s side flared as I let light energy flow into it. As it landed, yellow bolts crackled out and struck the orc. My foe shrieked in agony and was sent flying to the side.

I heard another scream from the rear. I turned and saw another enraged orc warrior. He raised his axe high and charged.

He suddenly stopped and howled in pain. He dropped the axe as his hands reached for his face. A dagger was sticking where his right eye once was.

A gnome materialized out of thin air in front of the orc. Singlepipe leaped, landing another cheap shot with his dagger between the weak joints of the warrior’s armor. The orc heaved forward. Singlepipe landed behind him, striking where the kidneys and dropping the orc to his knees. To finish off his combo attack he leapt once more, entangling the orc’s neck in a thin garrote and pulled, sending him to the ground.

“Go! I got you covered!” Singlepipe yelled, pulling out his dagger out. The orc howled in agony, while grasping at the garrote. The gnome threw several smoking grenades in all directions, before leaving the struggling orc on the ground.

I nodded and ran towards the wagons. We had to find the children and disengage as quickly as possible.

Singlepipe’s grenades burst, covering the entire battlefield in a massive smoke cloud. I saw Captain Falmore facing down an orc warrior and warlock. He gave me a nod before drawing them away from the wagons. They disappeared into the smoke. The wagons were left vulnerable.

I ran toward the wagons before the smoke obscured the battlefield. There was the sound of shrieks, yells, metal clanging against metal, and the occasional boom of a rifle.

I reached the first wagon. There was a fur shawl covering the contents. I grabbed the corner and ripped it off.

I was assaulted with the sudden smell of rotten eggs and a dissolved corpse. Following immediately was a sense of impending doom. I heaved and resisted the urge to hurl. It was a tell-tale sign of fel poisoning. Whatever was in the wagon was deeply emanating the corruptive energy.

I looked at the source. It was a massive rock. Cracks of green fel energy swirled around it. This was probably the infernal stone that Alamere was talking about. Now I knew why they were so effective as siege weapons. If this was the feeling it riled in a passive state, I could only imagine what it would be like as the real thing. It would throw the entire population of a garrison into chaos.

Then I noticed the streams of light flowing from a cloaked and huddled figure above it.

I drew the seal in the air, this time with a light flourish. Instead of shielding myself, the energy formed a barrier around the cloaked figure. The streams of light were blocked, but wisped around the barrier, trying to probe it like a leech. I removed the cloak.

I was greeted with the sight of a shivering young boy. His skin was gray. Tears were flowing down his eyes. He stared blankly into the distance.

Damn it. I hated seeing crying children. I resisted the urge to look away, and made the most sympathetic smile I could make.

“Neras?” I asked.

The boy hearing his own name, looked at mine. A small bit of relief flooded down my back. It was not too late. If we had let the orcs continue, there was no guarantee that the children would have been alive if the Northern garrison had caught them. And that was a big if.

“We’re here to help. Can you stand?” I asked. The boy nodded weakly and tried to stand up. He stumbled and before he could fall, I held him up.

“Careful there,” I said and gently lifted him out of the wagon.

I felt a flare of fel energy erupt behind me. The boy’s eyes grew wide. I could see the reflection of a green flame getting closer and closer.

I felt something splash against my barrier. The shield held then shattered. Pain blossomed out as the force impacted my shoulderplate. My vision narrowed. I was thrown forward. I grabbed the boy in a bear hug as we crashed through the wagon, and slid across the ground. The infernal stone fell and rolled away, disappearing into the smoke.

The boy was unharmed but terrified. I stood up and placed myself between him and the direction of the blow. I redid the barrier seal with a hand. Light reformed around me.

A figure appeared and grew clearer as it got closer. This orc had no weapons. It did not wear heavy armor. It wore blood red robes that matched its glowing red eyes. Bone ornaments adorned his body. Green fire licked its way out of its hands. This was a warlock.

We faced each other. Warlocks were dangerous foes. My training told me I had to close the distance.

I noted there were tears in its clothes, probably from Bluebeard’s cannister shot. It limped as it walked. He was not moving anywhere anytime soon.

This was my chance. “Kid, stay back,” I said and charged forward.

The warlock noticed my approaching figure and growled. He raised his hands. Green fel fire shot forward in a destructive bolt. This time, I was prepared this time. I fed more light energy into the seal. It shimmered as the opposing forces made contact. The flames dissipated to the sides.

Before he could cast another spell, I was within striking distance. I raised my warhammer high and swung.

Before reaching the warlock a massive shadowy arm blocked the blow. Sparks flew as light and dark energy sputtered out.

I saw another shadowy fist reeling in from the corner of my eye. I stepped back barely avoiding its swipe.

The warlock gave me a fanged grin. The shadows coalesced together into a hulking monstrosity known as a voidwalker. The warlock’s familiar.

I charged and swung my hammer. The voidwalker stopped my blow once more. Beings like this were weak against light energy. I fed energy into my hammer and the seal came to life. The holy energy pummeled the being and it screamed in pain. I swung again and banished it to the nether. I was about to close the distance to the warlock when hellfire erupted in front of me.

I stopped, raising my hand to feed energy into the seal. It splashed against my barrier. Snipping and crackling. Chipping away. I raised my arm, pouring more light energy into the seal.

65%... 63%.... my mana gauge continued to drop.

The warlock snarled, intensifying the fire. I fueled more light energy into the shield. I grit my teeth, holding my ground against the inferno.

My mana gauge fell faster. 58%.... 45%.... 38%....

It was taking all my concentration to keep up against the warlock’s assault. My vision began to blur. It became harder and harder to focus.

A hawkish cry bellowed from above. A blue blur bolted down from the sky, smashing into the warlock. The fire stopped.

The siphon broke and I was able to move once more. I charged the warlock.

When I got in striking distance the hawk flew away. The orc saw my swing and raised his hands. Dark energy coalesced into a small shield. My hammer came down. The opposing forces reacted in an explosive shockwave. He stumbled back. I slammed my hammer into the ground to avoid sliding.

The warlock limped back upright. I was leaning against my hammer, breathing heavily. There were cracks around my light barrier. I took a look at my mana-gauge. 4%.

The warlock gathered dark energy gathered in a ball.

I braced myself.

There was a loud boom. The warlock looked stunned, grasping at the hole in his chest. He fell.

The energy from his hands fizzled out. The warlock’s corpse fell in a heap to the ground.

A dwarf’s outline appeared through the smoke. His rifle aimed at the dead orc. “You alright there lad!” Bluebeard yelled and ran towards me.

“Never been better. You make a dramatic entrance as always,” I said, heaving. I reached into my potion pouch. I pulled out a blue vial and braced myself before emptying the contents down my throat. It burned like alcohol and tasted like old beer. They say bitter medicine is the best medicine. I wished otherwise.

I peeked at my mana gauge. The number rose, stabilizing at 78%.

“Well, it wasn’t hard finding you. I could see your little fireworks display from the hill,” he chuckled.

I felt the boy grab my leg. He peeked behind me, staring at the dwarf.

The smoke began to settle. I saw Singlepipe weaving between two orc warriors. He parried, dodged, and retaliated. I reminded myself never to challenge Singlepipe to a duel. He was handling both of them.

“Alright we got one kid,” Bluebeard said noting the boy hiding behind one of the boulders. “Where is the other?”

I looked and found the other wagon. Or what remained of it. Laying next to it was an infernal stone and a comatose little girl.

“Look out!” Bluebeard said and tackled me aside. The three of us fell to the ground as a whirling mass of gray dashed past where I stood. It landed then turned. The worg bared its teeth at us. A wolf, except thrice the size and twice the fangs.

“Can you get the boy to safety?” I asked Bluebeard.

“You got it,” he replied. A moment later Fenstring flew around and with one rapid swipe grabbed the boy by his shoulders and picked him up. The boy yelped.

“Relax kid! Old Fenstring will take care of yeh!” Bluebeard said as the bird carried him off the safety. The dwarf slung his rifle and drew twin axes from his back.

“Get the girl! I’ll handle this furball. Cm’ere you overgrown wolf. Old Bluebeard heres gonna make a pelt outta you!” he yelled grinding his axes against each other. They charged.

I made a dash for the last kid.

“Stop him!” I heard Alamere yell. He aimed his staff down preparing a spell at something. Before he could complete it though, an orc rogue materialized out of thin air and tackled him. The two tumbled down the slope.

This wasn’t good. If the orc rogues joined the battle, the odds we were going to make it out alive was slim to none.

Then I saw what Alamere was pointing at. The last orc warlock stood over an infernal stone. With the other he held an injured orc warrior. He plunged the dagger into the orc’s exposed neck. Fel energy shot out from the dead orc’s bulk. The stone began to pulse and sent out a shockwave.

I reached for the girl.

And was thrown to the side. I slammed against one of the rock slopes, nearly blacking out.

As I got up, I saw the warlock pick up the girl with his greasy hands. He cackled.

My eyes turned to the source of the shockwave.

Where the stone once sat was a crater. That same sense of doom returned, this time three-fold.

A massive stone arm rose. Lines of green fel fire crackled from where ligaments would be.

The arm crashed into the ground as the thing clawed its way up. It was shaped like an armored knight. It’s chest, the size of a house. Green fire licked out of its joints. At its height, the head turned to stare down upon us. Where there should have been eyes were twin fiery dots.

The infernal opened its mouth, a maw of green fel-fire, and let out a bloodcurdling roar.