Blazing Sun: The Story of Dragonblade

Chapter Eight

-Alterac Valley-

The snow-covered valley’s wailed, as another blizzard passed over to the place fresh snow upon the landscape. Many within the Frostwolf Village took shelter within huts, towers, or any structure strong enough to resist the high winds. Though, not all were taking shelter from the blizzard, a lone figure trekking through the snow, on their way back from gathering food and supplies.

An abnormally large Orc pulled his fur cloak tight, wolf-pelt head dressed head shaking the snow off, and continued towards a covered cave. The cave’s mouth had been covered by a thick leather flap, marked with a howling wolf and black mountain, both under a rising dragon. He stopped, placing a hand over the rising dragon, nodding, before entering the cave itself and out of the blizzard.

Inside, the Orc was greeted by décor often found among his people, mixing between the Frostwolf and Blackrock Clan, a bonfire at its center and giving light. All around were furs, bags, pots, weapons, and even grizzly trophies; that one would find within an Orc’s home, placed to resemble a rather homey appearance. At the very back, two Frostwolf Howlers slumbered, circled with each other and kept another slumbering creature, nuzzling into their snow-white fur, between them. This sight caused him to smile, the Orc’s overly long tusks being revealed more, and approached the three. Removing his cloak caused the Howlers to wake up, readying to leap at the intruder, but relaxed after seeing their brother approaching.

“Griar, Fenrok, how is she doing today?” The Orc asked, his dark gray skin and wolf pelt covered body being revealed by the fire. “Our little one has not been the same, since little brother left us.”

The worg further back lowered their head down, nudging and revealing a female Pandaren Cub, wearing Orcish clothing, her hair done up in a ponytail and longest bane died an emerald green. Despite being moved, the cub continued to sleep, this earned an affectionate lick from both worgs…. Trying to wipe away the tear stains under her eyes.

“Out of our entire misplaced family, Grongal’s disappearance hit her the hardest.” He sighed, lightly caressing the cob’s head. Like the others, the Orc would have believed Grongal’s death during the Siege of Orgrimmar, had it not been for the fact he sensed the missing elemental aspect within the Dragonblade. It is true that Grongal forged and tempered the warblade, but it was this Shaman of the Flame that blessed it. He knew Grongal, since they were young, and knew that the Blademaster would not disappear without any good reason.

Though, the Orc’s thoughts came to an abrupt halt, as he sensed a familiar power within the cave, even the howlers sensed it. Instantly, the shaman’s gaze went to a nearby Orcish fire totem, the flaming aura around it glowing ever so brightly. The old totem had become alive with primal nature energy, after being dormant for weeks. It had belonged to another, so that he could know when they were in trouble, and required the shaman’s council.

The Orc’s eyes narrowed, a sense of duty igniting within his soul. He walked over to the totem, grabbing hold of it, and went over to a nearby ritual circle. Placing the totem in the very center, he quickly sat down and took a meditative position. “Do not worry, Little Brother.” The totem glowed in front of him, the Orc placing both hands on to his knees, whispering a chant. “Aronzak is on his way… Grongal.”

-Cloudsdale, Moments after the Attack-

The citizens of Cloudsdale were in a mass state of hysteria, many taking to the streets. Not only had half of their cloud city been vaporized, within a concentrated heat blast, but Changelings and Gryphon Stealth Talons had begun attacking anyone they could find! The Royal Guards garrisoned within the cloud city were outnumbered by the invaders, their defensive garrison also being vaporized and only those out on patrol able to respond to the attack. This left many civilians at the mercy of their invader’s blades, cloud streets stained with blood. Some of the citizens managed to arm themselves and tried to fight off their attackers, but they did not stand a chance against the highly-trained infiltrators.

“We shall bleed this city, and make the Equestrians choke on their victories!” A Stealth Talon Sergeant yelled, holding his scimitar high, smirking. One of the other Stealth Talons dragged a captured Royal Guard, another group holding down three civilians. “Starting with you four.”

“You will not get away with this, wretch!” The Royal Guard snapped, spitting blood at the sergeant’s feet. “The princesses will not allow you to… And they will send the Warlord after your worthless kin! His rage will show no quarter, engulfing your so called ‘Empire’!”

“Defiant words.” The sergeant made a quick motion, two of his Stealth Talons forcing the Royal Guard to lean forward, which allowed him to place his blade on to the guard’s neck. “Too bad they will not be remembered.”

Moving faster than the civilians could react, he swung the blade down and decapitated the Royal Guard instantly. This caused the remaining prisoners to scream in terror, watching one of their protector’s body go limp, head falling through the clouds. Their cries were drowned out by the laughter of Stealth Talons surrounding them, kicking the body off after its head.

“Bring me the stallion next.” The sergeant ordered, snickering as he watched the order being carried out.

“Papa, no!” The teen mare screamed, reaching for her father, but the Stealth Talons pulled her back.

“No, no! Let us go!” The father yelled, trying to fight his way free, but could not overpower the two Gryphons holding him. “I will do anything, just let us go!”

“I only want you to…” The Stealth Talons shoved him into a leaning position, allowing their sergeant to place his blade on to the stallion’s neck. “Die, Equestrian.”

“Papa/Honey!” The mares screamed.

“Don’t look, you two!” The father pleaded, as the sergeant raised his blade. “Please, don’t look!”

“Heh… Pretty mares you have.” The sergeant commented, holding his blade up high, as the stallion could only glance back at him. “Think we will let them live a bit longer, only until we are finished with their bodies.” His victim’s eyes widen, as the sergeant’s blade dropped.

“Celestia, save us!”

Their pleas were answered by a metallic groan, causing the sergeant to stop and look around. They could hear a fiery roar nearby, followed by the feeling of something hunting them washing over the gryphons. The clouds suddenly shook, causing some to fall over, the mares able to go to the stallion. Unknown to either side, three oval shapes appeared underneath the group.

Another quake within the clouds made them start to panic. “Sergeant, what is going on!?” A Stealth Talon yelled, looking to their leader for answers.

“I… I don’t know.” A third quake caused them to form a protective circle. “Whatever it is, I doubt this thing is-WHAT!?”

The clouds burst open! This allowed a massive, barreled, weapon to be seen, followed by a metallic howling wolf forcing the clouds to open even further. The bow of a ship followed it, along with two massive red blimps, marked with some strange jagged symbol, and forced the Gryphons to scatter. The sergeant could see strangely armored Equestrian soldiers hanging on to the ship’s many hooks and rings, and prepared his man to attack… But, a rush of wind, and some shadow overlapping his form, caused the sergeant to freeze.

Slowly, he turned around, and went wide eyed at the sight of some black armored giant, holding their warblade high up. Those blazing, soul piercing, red eyes glaring down at him, the shining sun behind the figure gave off a Wrathful Solar Champion aura. The sergeant could feel his anger, the rage erupting like a volcano, and for a moment… The Gryphon regretted every terrible deed he has ever done in service of the Neo-Emperor.

“Forg-!”

SLICE!

“There will be no redemption for you, Filth!” Grongral roared, his warblade splitting the Gryphon completely in half from head down. Blood sprayed out form both halves, as the Orc landed back on to his airship’s deck… Along with the family of pegasi, who just looked up at the massive Blademaster. “Commander, have all Pegasi within the Vanguard deploy, the others will be on their way after we receive the cloud walking spell.”

“Right away, Warlord!” Iron Sides, saluted, before leading the Vangaurd’s pegasi into Cloudsdale’s streets. “For the Princesses, and Equestria!”

“W-Warlord?” The father muttered, as the Orc glanced back at them.

Grongal walked up to them, warblade slung over his shoulder, and nodded. “Aye, I am Warlord Dragonblade, High Commander of Equestria’s Coalition Force. I personally welcome you to the airship ‘Fang of Lo’Gosh’.”

The three looked around, watching the airship’s crew rushing around, handling their duties, gunners shooting down any invaders that dared to enter their trained sights. Unicorns were casting cloud walking spells on to their teammates, or those unable to do walk within Cloudsdale. Engineers were rushing back and forth, taking supplies to where they were needed, deckhands taking ammunition to the gunners, and reloading the airship’s battlements.

“Take your family below deck, you are exposed up here.” Grongal instructed, as a unicorn rushed up, quickly casting a cloud walking spell on to him. “Was that everyone, soldier?”

“Yes, sir. You were the last.” The unicorn confirmed, quickly saluting the Orc. “All are ready for full deployment.”

“Good, have the crew hold position here, the Fang of Lo’Gosh will give us Artillery Support.” Grongal looked at the remaining Vanguard Troopers on board. “Alright soldiers…” He lowered the warblade, cracking his neck and shoulders. “Let us welcome these infiltrators properly… Show them no mercy, take no prisoners! We shall have revenge for those they slayed this day!” He held the warblade high, slightly snarling his next words. “Lok’tar Ogar! Victory or Death, my warriors!”

“Lok’tar Ogar, Victory or Death!” The Vanguard echoed, leaping over the airship’s sides and rushed into the besieged city.

Grongal looked back at the family. “I was not asking, get below deck… We will clear the city, and I rather not lose anymore civilians to these bastards.” They watched, as the Warlord turned around and walked towards the boarding planks. His chain linked cape swaying back and forth, as if it were energized by his wrathful aura. The stallion took Grongal’s orders, but found moving his star struck daughter rather hard.

-Later That Day-

When Grongal’s Vanguard joined the battle, reinforcing the defenders, everything had been turned around in mere moments. However, there were reports of Changeling Survivors trying to flee from the city, and Grongal had not seen a single one of them where he fought. It made him cautious, as reports begun to flow about how they vanished, right before the Vanguard joined in.

“Warlord! I have the casualty report you requested!” Iron Sides called out, rushing up to the Orc. “Do you wish to look it over, sir?”

Grongal did not say anything, and simply held his open hand out. Iron Sides took this as a silent “yes” and placed the report into Grongal’s hand, quickly backing away. Silently, the Orc reviewed each page, his red eyes scanning every inked letter and number listed. Only way to tell that Grongal had not been a statue, were his steady breaths and trembling hands. Such a silent review made Iron Sides nervous, he had never seen the Orc Commander so silent before.

“Do we know how they got in?” Grongal’s single question broke the silence, but did not turn around.

“The remaining Royal Guards, stationed here, believed that the Changelings turned themselves into cargo workers, sneaking their weapons and Gryphons in through crates.” Iron Sides replied, watching his commander flip another page. “It would seem that some of the Changelings survived the Badlands Glassing.”

“Or, they were already here, before the glassing order went through.” Grongal pointed out, turning to the last page. “Some Infiltrators would blend in for months, possibly years, before making their move. Worst part about this, though, had been the fact that Cloudsdale’s warehouse district had been vaporized by that bomb. So, there is no telling who these Changelings are disguised as.” He lowered the report down, pinching the bridge of his nose. “The count is disheartening… So many dead, Tia is going to be heartbroken.” Grongal looked towards Iron Sides. “See to the survivors, make sure they are taken care of Commnader… I wish to be alone, for now.”

Iron Sides stood at attention, and saluted the Orc. “As you wish, Warlord. Please, call if you require anything of me.” Grongal gave a slight nod, before the pegasus took his leave.

A gust of wind blew across the airship’s deck, catching the reports and gently slipping them from Grongal’s grasp and into the air. Suddenly, the Orc went down to both knees, releasing his wareblade in favor of grasping his head with both hands. “What have I done?” Grongal’s eyes were quickly filling with tears, ignoring at how far away his warblade slid. “I should not have ordered the glassing.” He slammed an iron plated fist on to the deck, splintering a plank. “This is all my fault, they are all dead because of my oversight!”

While Grongal was distracted by his distraught thoughts, another figure slowly appeared on to the airship’s deck. They just watched the Warlord, and how he was blaming himself, shaking their head… Grasping their weapons ever so tightly.

“Damnit, what am I going to do? How am I going to explain this to Tia, or to my ancestors, when I finally past? How can I tell them, I was responsible for all of this!?” Grongal slammed his fist into the deck again. “Aronzak, I wish you were here… You always knew what to say about these situations, and what I should do, brother.” His hands tightened, tear drops tapping against the wood deck. “What I would give, to hear your council once again.”

“Alright… How about you get on your damn feet, and Wolf Up for once!” Grongal’s eyes snapped open, whipping around to the source… Seeing a twin axe wielding spectral Orc, wearing a wolf mantle over his form. “Really, Little Brother? Feeling sorry for yourself, after a battle? And you call yourself a Dragon…”

Grongal blinked, rubbing his eyes to make sure that he was not hallucinating. “A-Aronzak…? Aronzak Flamewolf, is that really you?” The Blademaster asked, quickly getting to his feet, and fully turned towards the ghost. “How did you even get here?”

Aronzak smirked at Grongal’s question, pointing towards the discarded weapon. “Have you already forgotten?” He asked, Grongal glancing towards the weapon and then back at the shaman. “I blessed your blade myself, using my spirit ascendance, tracking your weapon was very easy.”

Grongal walked up to the spirit of his closest friend, pressing a hand on to his head. “I cannot believe this…” The Blademaster gave a hearty chuckle, pleased to see Aronzak once again, before something came to mind. “Brother, how is little Lin? Is she ok? Is she being treated alright? Is she eating healthy?”

“Haven't’ seen each other in weeks, that felt like months, and you ask about the child?” Aronzak teased, chuckling some. “Yes, Lin is doing just fine, she is still a little firecracker and staying within my cave home.”

“If it is the one where we first met, then I am a little concerned about her wellbeing.” Grongal joked, the two sharing a laugh, before he gave a nod. “But, it puts me at some ease, knowing you are keeping her safe.”

Aronzak gave a light nod himself. “When we all thought you died, Lin broke down and hasn’t left the cave since.” His words caused Grongal to gain a worried look about him, as the shaman looked around. “Well, isn’t this quite a mess, what happened this time? Bandits, Invaders, Apocalyptic God of some End Time trying to end all life as you know it? Or is it the classic situation, you pissed off the wrong person?”

“Normal… This was done by Saboteurs.” Grongal noted, walking up next to his spectral friend. “Shapeshifters got behind our lines, and planted some type of heat based explosive, vaporizing half of this cloud city. After that, trained infiltrators pounced during the chaos, attacking any survivors they came across.”

“Tch, cowards.” Aronzak growled, looking at Grongal. “Did you slaughter every last one of them?”

“Those that we could find.”

“Good.” Aronzak grunted, glancing at around the ruined city again. “If I am to guess, this has something to do with that Celestia girl, from before we met? The one you wouldn’t shut up about?” He asked, Grongal giving a slightly embarrassed nod.

“It seems her kingdom was under attack, her capital under siege.” The Blademaster retrieved his warblade, hooking it on to his back. “Apparently, a time walking dragon over heard my promise, and helped me keep it… Been fighting these invaders ever since.”

“And how goes the fight, Little Brother?”

“Victories, until now.” Grongal replied, hands tightening into a fist. “A siege has been repelled, two cities retaken, and a race of infiltrators practically wiped out. But…” He motioned to the cloud city’s ruined structures. “This is the result of such victories. Half a city vaporized, with the inhabitants either dead or wounded.”

Aronzak watched his surrogate brother, listening to each word carefully. The shaman quietly pondered what has been explained, wolf headed gaze taking in every detail around him. Despite not having a physical form within this world, Aronzak could still sense the Spirits and Elements around him… Each confirming what Grongal has told him, but in obvious state of unbalance from all the bloodshed.

“If that is the result, then consider yourself very lucky.” Aronzak started, causing Grongal to look towards him. “A siege broken, two cities retaken, and a race of troublemakers thwarted? I could think of worse retaliations.” He glanced at the Blademaster. “Your warriors are retaking this city, fighting off what enemy they come across.” A spectral hand placed itself on to Grongal’s shoulder. “Take heart, Little Brother… After all, war takes lives, and cares not which life is taken.”

Grongal gave a light nod, looking towards the ruined city. “Yet, those words do not make this loss any easier… It wasn’t that long ago, when I came across one of the taken cities, its youth hanged at its boarders.”

Aronzak twitched at the mentioning of hanging children by these foes, but quickly suppressed his rage to better council his conflicted brother… Though, Grongal’s comment caused a snicker to come from him. “You haven’t changed at all, Little Brother.” He walked past Grongal, quickly patting the Blademaster’s shoulder in passing. “Keep pushing forward, and if you fall down?” Aronzak smirked back at him, revealing those oversized tusks, form slowly fading away. “I will find some way to be here, and get your lazy ass back on your feet.”

Grongal just watched, as the shaman vanished within the wind. After a few moments, he smirked and gave a sagely nod. “Of course, brother… I can always count on your strength, when my own wanes.”