Varrus and Syra marched through the portal to Tranquillien flanked by Tae'thelon, Rho'dan, the Crossguard, the Illidari Council, as well as a sizable chunk of his House Guard.
Telonicus had opted to return to Silvermoon, claiming he was useless without his golem, whereas Tae'thelon tagged along because he wanted to run an experiment. Whatever it was that Tae'thelon had in mind, Varrus welcomed the expertise of the vaunted engineer.
In total, his forces added up to 200+ Highborn.
As they marched through the portal, Varrus found himself in a large square below a towering keep. A Rune Stone stood in the middle of the square, and had acted as the anchor for their portal. It shimmered, and a blue beam of light was constantly pulsing upward, and spreading out across the city, creating a barrier.
Varrus saw that it was blocking a near constant barrage of purple-black pulses of Death magic, and was beginning to wane.
“Tae'thelon, can you reinforce the Rune Stone? At this rate, the town shield will crack.” Varrus turned to the engineer, and said with great solemnity.
Tae'thelon remained silent as he inspected the Rune Stone. He rubbed a glowing hand along its side, and muttered some spell.
“Diagnostic complete. At the current rate of depletion, the Rune Stone will suffer catastrophic failure in 10 minutes.” Tae'thelon seemingly spoke to himself.
“Do you have a solution?” Varrus queried.
“Yes, Vandercross. With one of the ‘Master tier’ Mana Stones, I can empower the Rune Stone to resist the enemy barrage for 15 minutes.” Tae'thelon slowly supplied, as if it was just another calculation in math class, and not some vital information critical to the survival of the city.
That wasn't a lot of time. Nor did Varrus have too many Mana Stones to spare.
Only three days had passed since the fight in the temple, and Varrus had slightly slacked on his grinding over night.
It took him 20 seconds to cast the Master tier Mana Stone spell. In a perfect world without delays, he would be making 180 of them an hour. However, he wasn't a perfect being, and averaged about 110 Mana Stones an hour.
Over the last 3 days, he had made roughly 2,640 crystals. He then sent out 3/4 of that number so that the surviving 100-200,000+ Highborn across the entire kingdom would not transform into Wretched due to mana deprivation.
Meaning Varrus only had 660 Master tier Mana Stones on hand. Or, based on Tae'thelon's calculations, that was 7~ days worth of shield time if the rate of the enemy assault remained unchanged, and Varrus didn't use any more Mana Stones.
Feeling some pain in his heart, Varrus reluctantly handed out 100 Mana Stones, ensuring at least a day's worth of solid coverage.
At the end of the day, it wasn't an apocalyptic expenditure, because so long as Varrus wasn't needed on the battlefield 24/7, he could always hole up somewhere, and make more Mana Stones.
However, as Varrus comforted himself with this fact, he discovered that the shield produced by the Rune Stone wasn't all encompassing.
Magical attacks were blocked completely, however, he saw a flock of gargoyles fly into the barrier, then come out the other side. They moved like molasses as they entered, and seemed to be weakened by the Rune Stone's effects, yet it was clear to Varrus that physical objects could pass through this shield.
A squadron of dragonhawk knights rose to meet the gargoyles, and swiftly took care of them. At the same time, several Arcane Towers lining the keep opened fire, and the steady thump of an Arcane Barrage swiftly transformed the flock of gargoyles into slag.
“Tae'thelon, shouldn't the barrier be preventing their entry? Wasn't Silvermoon impenetrable because of such a barrier?” Varrus was quick to turn on the engineer.
“Silvermoon's shield was powered by the Sunwell.’ Tae'thelon glanced at Varrus as if the truth of the matter were obvious.
Varrus clucked his tongue, and turned away, readying himself to issue orders, and move out.
“However, the Rune Stone has two settings, wide area, and closed area. If the barrier was reduced to the radius of this keep, it would perform the function of a physical deterrent.” Tae'thelan rambled on.
Varrus nodded his head in thanks, then directed a squad of 12 to hold the square, as well as defend both Tae'thelon and the Rune Stone.
If gargoyles could so blatantly gain entry, then there was no telling if any Darkfallen rogues had set their sights on eliminating Tranquillien's best defense.
Because if Varrus were the attacker, he would 100% assign the Rune Stone as priority number one on his list of objectives. A pillar that acted as a shield, and weakened all non-Elf magic in the surrounding area was a strategically OP weapon that, from an attackers perspective, had to be destroyed.
While some Arcane Towers were scanning this area, and were capable of spotting stealthed individuals, Varrus wouldn't feel comfortable unless he posted some additional security on standby.
While Varrus was busy giving out orders, the squadron of dragonhawks made landfall.
“Highlord! You have arrived sooner than I had anticipated!” Koren said in excitement from his mount.
“Koren. We were just about to reinforce the walls. Give me an update on the situation, what are the enemy forces, how do we compare, and are there any reports on their Heroes, or special units? Here, we can talk while we walk.” Varrus nodded in greeting, and got straight down to business.
He had no time to put up with Koren's usual enthusiasm. He then gave the signal for the House Guard to move out as Koren thought for a moment, formulating his reply.
“Over the past few weeks, we had been skirmishing with the Scourge, and harassing them from the sky. Their anti-air capabilities were severely limited, leading to over 50,000 Undead casualties. However, lately, ziggurats have been constructed, limiting our patrols. Additionally, gargoyles have begun to be produced en masse, further hamstringing our efforts.” Koren summarized.
“And the troop deployments, what are we facing?” Varrus urged, attempting to keep any hint of impatience off his face.
“Mmf, we arrived with over 2,000 Elites, of the original army, 1,719 remain. However, many of the people of Tranquillien decided to remain behind, and take up arms. 7,000 more Elites joined our ranks, alongside 12,000 Irregulars. Accounting for the deceased, we have roughly 21-22,000 soldiers currently defending the town, as well as 2,000 or so Arcane Golems.” Koren patiently explained.
“And the enemy forces? What about their commanders?” Varrus pressed.
“It's best that you see for yourself, but Lady Liadrin estimates there to be around 200,000 foot soldiers comprised mostly of ghouls, and skeletons, with the odd abomination here and there. From my count, there are also a few thousand gargoyles.
In terms of Heroes, Prince Tenris is known to lead this assault, and is rumored to have brought a force of 500 Darkfallen archmages. He brings with him 5 massive, house-sized gargoyles, defeating even one was a struggle for me.
Additionally, a battalion of 500 death knights led by Knight-Lord Dranarus's predecessor stands out as a serious threat.
Alongside these death knights, is a contingent of Undead Trolls. Their numbers are slim in comparison to the rest, only 50,000, but their Hero's command over Death magic makes him a terrifying necromancer.
Lastly, there is also a dragon of unknown strength lurking in a permanent shroud of clouds off on the horizon.
In total, the Scourge is fielding around 300 to 500,000 Undead for this siege.” Koren finished, then looked at Varus with a hopeful expression.
Varrus felt his mouth go dry as he learnt of the enemy forces. The only solace to this situation is that they held a defensive position with tall walls, that Queen Lana'thel was still scheming in Deatholme, and that they should out number the enemy in terms of both Heroes and Elites.
However, that number of 500 archmages, and 500 death knights was nothing to sneeze at. If Tenris was smart, he would whittle the defenders away with his numbers advantage, then mercilessly swoop in on the beleaguered defenders with those 1,000 powerful Elites.
It was a sobering thought, because by the numbers, the current Heroes stationed at Tranquillien should amount to no more than 12 in total. (Varrus, Syra, Rho'dan, Crossguard, Tae'thelon, Illidari Council x4, Liadrin, Thaladred, & Koren.)
On average, a Hero could one shot a Common/Irregular soldier with little effort. When fighting an Elite, it could take 1-20 seconds depending on the situation. It was when Elites gathered in large numbers, that a Heroes life could be threatened.
When it came to Elites, they typically could slay an Irregular combatant in 5-30 seconds, and remain unharmed. However, once again, a major threat to them were numbers.
What he needed to do was quickly reach the walls, and assess the battlefield with his own eyes. Once he was there, he could also distribute the high tier potions that Starbottle had been brewing on the side, as well as the glass, and mythril armor that Varrus had crafted thanks to the Kobold's supplies. As well as hand out his only set of extra thorium armor to Koren.
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Fortunately, the people he had brought with him were anything but weak, and both he and Syra were at the high end when it came to Hero units.
At this point in time, he rated Rho'dan to be Hero tier, whilst when the thorium wielding Crossguard fought in concert, they were equivalent to a Hero.
The remaining House Guard were all fitted in the umbra blue armor associated with mithril, and a few crimson thorium sets were interspersed between them.
Each one of the House Guard had the power of an Elite, with Common Soul Gem enchantments applied to their gear. They had been training nonstop over the last month and a half, relearning old skills, or picking up new ones. Trained by the Undead Thrall, Dawnbringer, many priests and paladins had upgraded their skill sets, creating a fighting force that rested in a quasi-state between Elite, and Heroic.
Lastly, Syra's fans, who had fought with her during the Orc War, were the Heroes who would later fight under Illidan's banner in the Black Temple raid. Varrus had begrudgingly fitted them with Thorium gear, and Common/Greater Soul Gem enchantments.
Whilst he didn't have a great opinion of them, their fervent devotion to his wife won them a pass, and he would not see them represent his House without proper gear. Their group composition was that of a paladin, rogue, mage, and priest. A balanced fighting force that would compliment Varrus's forces well.
Whilst Varrus was internally detailing the forces at his command, he had finally reached the battlements on the outer wall.
The first thing he noticed was that the blue barrier from the Rune Stone wasn't projected about a half mile outside of the walls.
When zombies, skeletons, and ghouls ran through the viscous, molasses-like material, they were greeted by arrows, fireballs, and holy attributed attacks.
Each arrow loosed from an Elven bow was an instant kill, however, Varrus noticed that the rangers were selective with their shots, only taking out the most dangerous looking foes, or aiming for the rare skeletal Elite.
Likewise, the mages were focusing on hitting as many enemies as they could per spell. Otherwise, they were frugal with how they spent their mana. There was a Mana Stone on this section of the wall, but it looked like it was beginning to lose its luster. If the mages overused it, then there wouldn't be any free mana left for everyone else to consume.
Additionally, all of the fighters looked sleepless, and had the look of defeat in their eyes.
Upon witnessing this scene, it really sank in how important the Sunwell was to society. Unlimited stamina and mana was truly a cheat code to Elven forces, but without that source of power, coupled with the risk of turning into a Wretched made the Blood Elves a pale reflection of their former, High Elven selves.
Unsurprisingly after a few weeks of fighting, their quivers were running low, and the Mana Stones were going dry.
Fortunately, Varrus had a large quantity of iron, and a few logs left over for construction in his Deep Storage that had gone unused. As well as some Mana Stones to spare.
Quickly forging 30,000 iron arrows, Varrus deposited them, alongside the armor, and a dozen Mana Stones to be used.
Upon his arrival, and donation of goods, the defenders who were mostly residents of Tranquillien, and didn't know Varrus as the First Seat quickly glanced at him in a new light.
“Highlord, you have come at a most opportune time.” Liadrin came forward, and reached both her hands forward for a handshake, only to have Syra step In-between them.
Liadrin awkwardly lowered her hands, and tilted her head to the side in confusion.
“Haha, yes, I have come as per Koren's request.” Varrus shifted the attention to the young Sky Marshal, and held Syra back.
“Varrus Vandercross, the playboy? So it was no jest after all. The supplies are most welcome, but I fail to see how 200 troops will change the outcome of this war.” A condescending Elf with white hair, festooned in glitzy enchanted gear, and a beautiful robe pushed his way to the front, and exclaimed. His voice was rich, and cultured, and he radiated an aura of authority.
“You are speaking to the First Seat of the Convocation, savior of Silvermoon, Governor Magister Allatrocx.” Koren said with a grin that promised danger.
“And where was Silvermoon, or the Convocation when the Scourge invaded, Sky Marshal? Busy inventing fanciful new titles, and talking in circles no doubt, as usual. Tranquillien has acted as the bastion to all of Quel'Thalas for millenia, and we will continue to do so. Your reinforcements are welcome, and you may be the representatives of our government, but I am the master of this city, so do not expect to order me around. Tranquillien has over 17,000 local troops, what has Silvermoon sent but a handful?” Allatrocx fumed, and pointed finger harshly at both Varrus and Liadrin.
“Petty drama when we should be united against a common foe. It isn't a surprise that our nation was so easily overrun when this is the kind of representative administering our premier fortress.” Varrus sighed to himself, and placed a hand on his forehead.
“Should I take care of him?” Syra said, raising her buster sword, and within earshot of all those present.
“I beg your pardon?!” The governor said, affronted by Syra's suggestion.
The look of scorn playing across his face didn't seem to register Syra's threat in the slightest, and he didn't move away, in favor of scowling at both Varrus and Syra.
Multiple rangers and mages loyal to Allatrocx trained their bows at Syra, or readied their hands to unleash a spell.
“Highlord, you have said it yourself, let us work together. We have no time for this.” Liadrin entreated.
“My knights are with you.” Koren said after a moment of struggle flashed across his face.
“Bahahaha, you fools. No one crosses a Vandercross.” Thaladred laughed as he came down a flight of stairs, his black armor caked in purple-black blood.
“Darkener, you are the premier duelist amongst all of Quel'Thalas, a devoted ally to Sanguinar, and you would side with these children?” Allatrocx sniffed.
“These kids? I hate their guts, but I'm not stupid, you could say I've been convinced.” Thaladred darkly intoned as he glanced at Syra's wide grin. “Besides, the title of best duelist belongs to the little lass holding a sword to your chin.” Thaladred's gruff voice chuckled in bemusement.
Allatrocx rapidly blinked, and the color left his face as Thaladred's words sank in.
He moved to pull back, but found a golden chain of Light wrapped around his neck.
An arrow, unbidden, came from one of the rangers, and shot at Syra's face.
His wife effortlessly deflected it with her sword. A moment later, the Illidari Council members practically teleported to that rangers side, and were about to toss him over the battlements. Whilst they did this, the other Elites had finally reacted, and all hell was on the verge of breaking loose.
“Halt.” Varrus channeled his Speech skill, unleashed his overwhelming mana, as well as his Imposing Presence.
All Highborn on this section of the wall froze, as if they were under the effects of paralysis.
Varrus motioned for Syra to remove her chains.
When she reluctantly complied, Varrus marched up to Allatrocx, and stared him in the eye.
The governor met his gaze, defiant, and unleashed his mana too, revealing that he also had the power of a Hero.
Varrus raised an eyebrow, impressed with Allatrocx’s gumption. This man had a spine.
The strength of Imposing Presence was pressing down upon him, yet he neither kneeled nor bent.
Likewise, the governor seemed to have a slight respect form as his efforts at intimidation proved fruitless.
“Enough of this, I recognize your talent, and welcome you to help command. You have my respect, First Seat Vandercross, but this is my city.” Allattrocx bit out, refusing to back down.
They were standing merely a foot apart at this point, the mana actively released from them radiated in the air. It was so dense, that those normal soldiers and Elites who didn't step back were breathless, and on the verge of unconsciousness.
“Lady Liadrin was given command of this city by unanimous vote of the Convocation. You will obey those orders.” Varrus pressed forward, then activated his trump card.
The Illusion perk, Soul Crusher came into play.
Soul Crusher - Feast upon the minds of those affected by a Fear spell or effect within the radius of Imposing Presence, absorbing 25 points of Magicka per second.
The mana that Allatrocx was radiating, rapidly began to diminish, and the perk bore heavily down upon his psyche.
Finally, the governor began to crumple. First his eye twitched, then, his lip quivered. Finally, he dropped down to one knee. He tried to hold his head up high, refusing to give in till the end, but eventually, Soul Crusher was too much, and he was forced to face the ground.
Varrus pulled back, and withdrew his Intimidating Presence, then placed a hand on Allatrocx's shoulder, and began to project his voice.
“Magister Governor Allatrocx, we, the Convocation of Silvermoon, thank you for your defense of Tranquillien, and her people. But it is we who are the highest authority in the land. We have distributed the Mana Stones, and we have cleansed Eversong. It is through our leadership that we shall cleanse the Ghostlands. Rise, Magister Governor Allatrocx, and receive this command!” Varrus shouted for all to hear, then pulled up the defeated man to his feet.
The governor looked at Varrus as if he had mercilessly murdered a litter of kittens. There was anger, loss, and a hint of fear. Yet that same steely resolve lurked in the corner of his eye.
‘Good.’ Varrus thought to himself with a smirk.
“I, Varrus Vandercross, First Seat of the Convocation, entrust you, Magister Governor Allatrocx, with the defense of this city until either you break, or the Scourge break. Do you receive my order?”
Allatrocx swiftly raised his head, and glanced at Varrus in surprise.
“You would reinstate me, after all that?” Allatrocx whispered in surprise.
Varrus smiled, and nodded.
He hated political infighting more than anything, and seeing as how loyal Allatrocx's soldiers were, Varrus would be a fool to murder him so openly. Additionally, to stand up to Varrus like that, whilst under such immense pressure. It took guts!
Allatrocx wasn't some traitor, or person who hated Varrus. He was simply a local commander who was doing his job. If Varrus had taken him out, he would be no better than a stereotypical smug Elf!
“Receive the order!” Varrus shouted once more.
Allatrocx was quick to abandon the look of surprise, and saluted Varrus.
“Order received! I shall not leave my post until either I break, or the Scourge break!” Allatrocx shouted.
“We're with you sir, victory or derangement ranger who had been moments away from being thrown over the battlements yelled.
“Victory or death!’ The remaining soldiers cried.
“Welcome to Tranquillien, First Seat, you're in for one hell of a ride.” Allatrocx nodded with a small smile.
Varrus grinned back, but was quick to sober up as a renewed roar came from down below.
Emerging from the ranks of Undead, several colossal meat puppets were slowly making their way forward, and were minutes away from crossing the barrier.
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‘One hell of a ride indeed.’ Varrus thought to himself as he prepared for a long, and deadly battle.