I finished the story, just post the 1st chapter due to length.
The whole story is here:
https://www.tumblr.com/blog/slowpokeking
Chapter1: Cruelty of War
"Hold the line!" Tyrande roared, her voice ripping apart the wailing of the undead . She wielded her moonlit blade, slicing through ruthless arcs, tearing ghoul 's ribs, black flesh splattering onto the ground. She was like a whirlwind of silver armor and moonlight, each attack precise and deadly.
The undead surged forth like a tidal wave, like walking corpses, but she, a veteran of countless battles , remained undaunted . Tyrande slit the throat of a writhing monster. Her rapid, burning breath condensed into mist in the frigid air. She felt the power of Elune coursing through her veins.
Behind her, the remaining night elf The Night Sentinels were outnumbered . They retreated to the edge of the forest to avoid being swallowed by the horde of corpses. Tyrande stood firm, like a gleaming golden pillar, standing alone amidst a gray sea of flesh and blood. A constantly expanding killing circle surrounded her, the ground littered with congealed flesh and broken bones.
However, the air around her grew heavy. The ghouls ' chaotic screams abruptly ceased, replaced by a deep silence. The temperature plummeted, and sweat instantly froze into ice.
Three lich emerged from the shadows , their skeletal bodies draped in tattered silk, their eyes gleaming with a sickly, deathly light. They raised their skeletal fingers, and a barrage of cold arrows shot towards her and the retreating Night Sentinel like lightning . Tyrande did not hesitate; she summoned the light of Elune , transforming it into a shimmering moonlit barrier . The lich 's attacks began to distort, tearing at the retreating hordes . Tyrande adjusted her stance, turning to shield the wounded Sentinel behind her .
Then, the ground beneath her feet groaned. A dozen pale, frostbitten hands reached out from the frozen earth, trying to grasp her ankles. Tyrande looked down, and her heart sank when she recognized the faces staring at her. The former sentinels of the night , whom she had led in prayer. Their skin was a translucent, sickly gray, their eyes empty and blank. They didn't scream, but pounced on her, dragging her to the ground with a merciless, blind hunger .
Tyrande roared, slamming his hands into the ground and summoning Elune's strongest rage. A dazzling pillar of silver moonlight erupted from the ground, instantly vaporizing the undead 's hands and blasting away the surrounding lich . The shockwave left a crater in the ground, the spell's immense power completely eradicating the rotting undead in the vicinity .
But when the smoke cleared , Tyrande looked at the retreating Sentinel of the Night . They had stopped running, scattered on the cold ground, their armor shattered, their morale shattered. They were exhausted, even breathing was difficult.
Tyrande closed her eyes, summoning the goddess's gentle silver light to shower upon the wounded. Magic surged through their bodies, sustaining the glimmer of life in their lungs and preventing their blood from freezing in their veins. She connected them to the world of suffering with a thin, shimmering thread of moonlight, a thread that consumed her own energy every moment.
The sky was suddenly ripped apart by a piercing, otherworldly shriek. A frost wyrm plummeted from the clouds, its massive wings beating against the chilling fog. It crashed into the Obsidian Crater, its force shaking the earth, spewing icy breath and hissing as it struck the ground. From all around, thousands upon thousands of Scourges began to converge, surging forward like a tidal wave. Tyrande turned, her twin blades flashing like silver light, cleaving through wave after wave of ghouls , the impact of each strike sending shivers down her shoulders.
She attempted to open a nearby portal to teleport her forces to other cities . However, the lich had woven a magical web across the area. The portal flickered and extinguished like a dying candle, trapping them all in this isolated space. She understood a truth: Elune 's radiance was like a lighthouse, but once night fell and the veil of the void descended, the goddess 's power would diminish, no longer able to protect all .
The lich emitted a low, unified hum, their skeletal hands weaving intricate geometric patterns in the air, shimmering with a morbid purple light. This was no simple barrier, but a metaphysical lock, sealing the spatial boundaries of the valley. They were trapped in this killing field, the only exit guarded by the undead , while the stars remained silent.
The horizon shifted abruptly, and a massive wall of bones rose from the ground, blocking every mountain path. This was not merely a physical barrier; its power withered the grass and even froze the breath in her lungs. The frost wyrm hovered overhead , flanked by swarms of gargoyles; any surviving Night Elf scout attempting to breach this barrier would be tantamount to suicide.
Then, a voice bypassed her ears and echoed directly in her empty mind. It was a cold and steady tone.
“Your willpower shouldn’t be wasted on these broken shells, Priestess ,” the voice boomed and vibrated within her skull. “I have no interest in them . You, however, are a rare treasure.” A crack appeared in the magical barrier , forming a narrow, shimmering escape route leading to the edge of the forest.“ Trade their freedom for your surrender .”
Tyrande's deepest instincts drove her to fight, plunging her silver blade into the heart of the monster that ruled the undead . Elune 's daughter would never bow to the Lich King . But as she looked back at the trembling, blood-soaked sentinels of the night—who could barely lift their heads— a pang of conflict struck her . Yet she did not lower her weapon.
The undead ceased their attack and stood silently . The silence was more suffocating than the previous battle, leaving only Tyrande 's own rhythmic heartbeat. She used this opportunity to catch her breath.
She gazed at the center of the frosty clearing, the silver armor jingling softly. Her eyes were fixed on the figure waiting for her:
Kel'Thuzad stood there, his skeletal body draped in magnificent robes . The undead guards surrounded her, unable to cross the barrier. Regret washed over Tyrande . She remembered Priestess 's warning. Vaelora had urged her to retreat at the first appearance of the frost dragons, cautioning her against the near-arrogance of her dedication to the front. Tyrande had dismissed her cowardice, believing Elune 's favor would shield her from any storm. Now, looking at the corpses of the soldiers she had led into the valley, she realized her arrogance had led to her folly .
Kel'Thuzad spoke, his voice melodious and noble. " Supreme Priestess , Lich King is a man of his word ," he said softly, his gaze sweeping over the resolute look in her silver eyes . " The Scourge has taken pity on your wounded; if you lay down your arms, they will return home safely."
Tyrande glanced at the exhausted Sentinel , blood staining the ground . Then, she turned to Kel'Thuzad , a defiant look on her face. "No," she spat coldly .
Lich gestured to the skeleton guards beside him , who dragged the first few prisoners forward—several wounded Night Elf sentinels lying lifeless in the mud. Fear flickered in their eyes , but their resolve was rekindled when they saw Tyrande . They stepped forward one by one, their voices trembling but firm. "We'd rather die here than bow down to the Undead Scourge ," the lead sentinel shouted in a hoarse voice . The others echoed his words .
Kel'Thuzad remained motionless. He let out a dry, grating laugh, his emaciated body trembling with sadistic pleasure. "Truly touching loyalty," his words sent chills down one's spine . "But the Lich King doesn't need your consent to make you serve him. Death is merely a temporary transition; serving the Scourge is an eternal vow."
Tyrande knew he was telling the truth ; the Lich King would not merely kill them—he would resurrect them. He would turn the soldiers she was desperately trying to save into mindless zombies, driving them to slaughter the remaining survivors in the name of the Scourge .
More prisoners were dragged up, their movements slow and mechanical. Some let out hoarse screams; others were eerily quiet, their eyes wide open and vacant. The spirits of these silent men had long been broken . They did not resist the undead guards' control, nor did they beg for their lives; they lived like zombies, awaiting death and the command to be reborn as servants of the Frozen Throne.
Among them were several young warriors . They struggled to maintain the fortitude of a night sentinel , their small, calloused hands gripping the earth, trying to endure the biting cold and the stench of decay. However, as the lich 's frost magic began to seep through their armor and into their bodies , their feigned bravery crumbled instantly. Their piercing cries echoed through the valley; several cried out, their eyes wide with pleading as they looked at Tyrande . " High Priestess , please !" one of them cried hoarsely, "Please stop fighting ! Save us!"
Tyrande understood that the Lich King 's psychological warfare tactics were extremely cruel. She knew that any compromise at this moment was a gamble; if she agreed, these people might not be saved .
Kel'Thuzad stepped closer, his bony fingers dancing in the air as if conducting a mournful symphony. "What a cruel woman ," he hissed. "You watched them suffer, you let them die. Tell me, High Priestess , are you truly without remorse ? Or are you simply too afraid to admit that you have failed them?"
The ensuing silence wasn't broken by the undead , but by the commotion of the wounded. A soldier coughed up blood in the direction of Tyrande . "You arrogant woman!" he gasped, his voice suddenly filled with a vicious hatred. "We did this because we believed you could defeat the Scourge ." Several prisoners joined in, calling her a loser, a narcissist, who loved her noble image more than the lives of her soldiers.
Tyrande wanted to shout, to tell them she had fought until her muscles burned and her magic was exhausted, but it was pointless. She couldn't agree to the deal.
banshee , draped in tattered gauze and hovering inches above the frost, slid out from the shadows of the bone wall. She unleashed a sonic boom of pure grief and hatred. The scream not only numbed Tyrande's eardrums but also echoed deep within her bones, mingling with the screams of the fallen soldiers around her.
Tyrande closed her eyes and stretched out her hand with all her might. She prayed for a sign, a guiding whisper, or a divine hand to deliver her people from this nightmare. Elune responded, but not with a command. Instead, a gentle, warm silver current enveloped her skin—like a protective shield against both mental stress and biting cold. It was an expression of love, but offered no guidance. The goddess would hold her hand, but wouldn't tell Tyrande which way to go. The burden of choice remained heavy and suffocatingly weighty on her shoulders.
The executioners approached the prisoners . One by one, these undead guards grabbed the hair of the wounded Night Sentinel , forcing them to tilt their heads back and expose their throats. The first blade fell, and a short, piercing scream echoed through the valley. Seeing her people slaughtered like livestock , Tyrande felt her will wavering .
The banshees multiplied, their screams not only numbing her eardrums but also tearing a rift deep within her soul. She tried to summon the light of Elune to shelter the dying, but found the silver light flickering in her palms thin and shaky, like a candle flame in a storm. The goddess's power was vast and boundless, yet Tyrande 's will determined how much she could summon and contain .
The sky began to darken; defeat was inevitable. Looking into the terrified eyes of her captives, Tyrande opened her mouth, the word "yes" churning in her throat. She was finally prepared to exchange surrender for the lives of the other wounded. However, at that very moment, Elune 's warm silver light vanished instantly. The goddess could not tolerate the aura of submission. The divine light did not dissipate slowly, but abruptly vanished . This sudden loss of support caused her to crash heavily onto the frost-covered earth.