He looked out across the barren landscape again, the banners of the human races fluttered in the wind. He could feel the leather padding beneath his armour starting to absorb the heat from the dark Black plates covering his body as the sun beat down on his armour like he remembered his father had done when crafting it for him. For that brief second his mind was in westfall the green grass around his home still damp from a rain shower duirng the night and the smell of his mother cooking breakfast on the stove downstairs and just as quickly as the memory came it had passed. his eyes focussed again, the generals were riding past his battalion again calling out ignorant commands like 'dont let them take an inch' or 'for the alliance' things he held in his heart as a stalwart warrior anyways.
He had been fighting with the alliance forces since the flight from stormwind,, in this time he had risen to command a detachment of men 20 strong...now he stood with black ash around his feet, with the roar of the blood thirsty horde awaiting him. It wouldnt be long now, through numerous skirmishes (to many to count he recalled) he had known when the commanders would send the sheep forwards. Today was different, the horde had the high ground. His battalion commander had relayed the fact that the generals were still to ignorant to believe that the Horde were to stupid to use the elevation to their strategic advantage, this didnt stop the horde loosing sporadic volleys of arrows and catapult bolts into the alliance ranks.
A shrill cry went up behind Derithor, he spun on his heels to see where it had originated, his eyes were met by crimson spewing from a deep wound caused by a stray arrow that no one had even seen coming. Derithor cursed the dark ash clouds swirling overhead for having concealed the bolt until the last moment. He marched over to the wounded man and put his hand on his shoulder.
'Stay still and stop bloody yelping!...', before he had even finished the sentence he had torn the arrow from the wound, another gout of crimson followed covering his already black and red armour further. 'take him to the aid station, have the wound plugged and bandaged'...
Another trooper ran off his chain mail hanging down to his knees grinding on the metal plates across them. Derithor turned again to face the horde, he scratched his face, the big red beard he wore rustled between his fingers as he pondered where his battalion would serve best should the horde attack. He noticed on the far left of the lines a small pocket of huge looking orcs wearing nothing but armour plates over their shoulders wielding massive cruel looking swords...If the attack came he would manoeuvre his men to that collection of orcs and hammer away at them. His eyes narrowed as another arrow whizzed by his head, the soldier behind him gasping to see it come so close and miss.
'Sir, that one almost hit you!',
'aye but it didnt...dont dwell on it.' he Reposted quickly looking at the man behind him.
'Aye sir, but...all this waiting, its playing on my nerves now'
'Just calm down and think about something you love', Derithor took his own words into account...again he let part of his mind wander, back to his Girlfriend, She was Lordaeronic but he loved her all the same, he had met her during the fighting in the North before his commander was ordered to move his forces into the dark Ashen lands just north of the Blackrock.
'aye just settle down and think of something nice', Derithor saw in the soldiers eyes he was thinking alright, he noticed his eyes glaze slightly as the man let his mind wander to his proposed or family. Under his breath he uttered simply
‘It’s those we fight for’
Without warning the Drums sounded, Derithor didnt really have to strain his neck, he was a tall muscular farm boy from Westfall none the less. None of the alliance musicians were playing the beat. He looked out across the ash plain and could see the Horde beggining to move forward, perhaps the generals were right after all. Behind the Orcs in the distance rose the tall forboding spire of Blackrock Mountain, making the horde seem even more Imposing. Derithor bunched his shoulders and unhooked his long dull sword, the blade still caked in blood and dirt. Derithor had seen first hand the results of infected wounds dealt by the horde and had adopted the tactic himself, much to the dismay of his commander who believed in maintaining all armour and weapons to the highest standard...in a war of this scale Derithor knew it would be almost impossible to meet his standards so stopped trying.
The horde had moved into a run now and the crude horns and drums were sounding amidst the roars and battle cries of the enemy. Derithor let his fingers go limp the huge blade in his hand finding its balance perfectly in his grip as he waited, to his left he could see men and dwarves rushing forward to meet the attack of the right wing of the horde, in front of him he could see the huge Orcs he had targetted earlier lumbering forwards, sometimes barging through their own kind to reach the front of the charge. Derithor now narrowed his eyes and almost whispered to his standard Bearer to wave the banner, the signal for his troop to move forward, when his commander burst out of the ranks on foot.
'Derianine, your troop has been ordered by the commanders, to move forward and press on the right flank'.
Derithor nodded his agreement to his commander, the man wore pristine armour, with his family crest emblazoned on the chest plate. He knew deep down his commander had had no hand in giving the orders to his troop so far, in many respects Derithor had led most of his batalion at times, but now wasnt one of them, unless fate insisted that it be so...
On the left flank of the alliance forces the Horde crashed into the lines with devistating effects, Derithor could see the lines were no longer paralel. He ordered the banner to wave again and held his breath for a brief second, picking the first orc his sword would meet. His eyes met a giant Orc almost 7 or 8 feet tall lumbering forward with uncanny speed. He exhaled quickly amidst an earthshattering battle cry, hurling his body weight forward onto his right foot as he began his charge. He did not even bother to look to see if his men followed, he knew by now the veterans in his group would be spurring the green recruits on. within seconds he had met his target, the huge orc swung its cruel blade towards Derithors head, with a skilfull manouvre derithor had turned his body and raised his sword to deflect the shot, ready for him to bring it around himself at the orcs back...It worked, the sword bit deep into his foes back, the Orc growling in primal frustration at the wound immediately swung its elbow towards his head, his sword however was still embedded in the orc, leaving only his massive black spaulder to bear the brunt of the attack, the elbow ricochetted from his armour but his shoulder was still tingling on the verge of numbness, he knew now the initial charge was over he had to maintain discipline.
'Kalthor, take three men out to the right and move around behind them,...i'll meet you in the middle, Arbingham, take your 5 men to the left and begin pushing forward, the rest, focus your attacks on the fighters...you men at the back,..finnish the remains off', his orders rang out like steel hitting steel over his troop.
The Battle ground on, by the end of the day his magnificent red beard was matted with black orc blood and red from his slain comrades. His armour was doused in blood and the ash that clung to it. His arm was numb from the fighting but it was still not over, both sides had been throwing their reserves into the meat grinder and results were yet to be found from such tactics.
At what he assumed to be around 7pm Derithor could see the sun dipping below the mountains, a man in blood caked armour rode towards him a big dark sword on his back.
'Derithor, the commanders dead your being given command of the batallion! Wait till Elrya hears of this eh! she'll marry you for certain!', Derithor looked up at Jakeron, Elrya's older Brother.
'If we ever get out of this bloody mess Jake'...how is your troop fareing?', his words came out in a shout of the din of the still rageing battle.
'Have faith Derithor, you'll make it out, for her sake you will! Anyways gather your assisstants around you, the troops yours!'
Subject: Battle before Blackrock 
Thu Feb 01, 2007 4:45 pm
theres some more stuff in the pipeline though
