"We must make a stand while we still have the options to do so, before the enemy reaches the city and forces the issue."

Archmagi and legion commanders alike murmured in agreement to Archmage Antonidas' sentiment, but the problem remained: exactly where, when and how to engage the approaching Gilnean monsters.

If not for the revelation of the Gilneans obscene corruption, most would have been content to hide behind Dalaran City's enchanted walls. But with so many unknowns hanging around the invaders, many had to admit that it would be far preferable to launch a counterattack, as much to slow down the invasion and buy more time for reinforcements to arrive, as to study and trigger any further surprises the Fel-mutated forces might still harbor.

The arrival of dragons had brought brief relief as their ambush banished the magical mist that shrouded the Gilneans. Then the horror and disgust of seeing the new forms of the Gilneans were further exacerbated as scrying magi within their sanctums and spires found the spellcasters within the throng of invaders. The magocracy of Dalaran were familiar with amateur occultists and the occasional odd mage-turned-warlock, but the sight of so many corrupted harvest-witches throwing up enough dark magic to chase away dragons unnerved many spectators.

Those of sufficient rank within the Kirin Tor had a clearer inkling of what Fel magic could achieve, especially if there were enough warlocks that could forgo backstabbing and power plays to work together. Fel magic is far more destructive, far more potent than standardized arcane spells, but also far more volatile and taxing to the casters. Which was why many warlocks worked around the issues by utilizing living sacrifices to fuel their spells and also serve as a lightning rod to draw away the worst of any negative effects.

For the Gilneans to all be so mutated hinted at a terrifying expenditure of power indeed, something perhaps just short of opening a new Dark Portal. And that was the warlocks of Gilneas working with the limitations of their relatively low access to magic.

What would happen then, if the invaders managed to gain control of magic-filled Dalaran, and all the knowledge and artifacts kept within? Fel-wielding occultists had been recorded draining the lifeforce and mana from victims. Might a whole organization of warlocks be able to drain the magical defenses of Dalaran to fuel their own powers?

That dark imagination was why nobody wanted to risk enduring a siege right at the walls.

Though Korialstrasz wished that a consensus could be achieved on what exactly is the appropriate alternative to take.

After the limited victory against the Gilnean horde in taking out their magical shroud, Korialstrasz had narrowly missed death by a thousand blasts when he and his kin risked a foolhardy attempt at thinning more of the invaders' ranks. Reinforced arcane shields had fizzled and sparked into nothingness from the torrent of Fel magic, and a couple of younger drakes would have succumbed if not for their older kindred expending their magical reserves.

While the flight of dragons left to recuperate and study what they'd encountered, Korialstrasz returned to Dalaran as Archmage Krasus, to keep abreast of their situation and movements on the chance that an opportunity might present itself for the dragons to provide maximal aid.

"Quel'Thalas will send aid soon," Prince Kael'Thas reassured not for the first time. "My father has sent word that the treacherous wretch who has been running amok in Quel'Thalas has finally been cornered."

Archmage Ansirem, a member of the ruling Council of Six like the elven prince, countered with clearly taxed restraint. "Heartening that may be, but we cannot build our plans on the hopes that Quel'Thalas will arrive in the nick of time."

"Yet sending out whatever forces we have right now is tantamount to suicide," Commander Thales of the 1st Violet Legion evenly pointed out. "We're far too outnumbered in both blade and spells to hold the line for long enough to be anything but a road bump to the damned Gilneans."

Another archmage jumped in with fiery conviction. "Which is why we must use rapid strikes! If we only-"

"That'll just be feeding the Gilneans our people piece by piece!" someone protested.

"Not if we adopt the right strategy!" another countered with matching frustration, and the whole chamber threatened to boil into a mess of shouting again. Thankfully, Antonidas cut in once more, his calm voice amplified by a subtle spell.

"Please, please! We've been through this already. Ladies, gentlemen, our time is short, we must not spend what precious moments of it locked in bickering."

Prince Kael'Thas gave a fatigued nod. "What would you suggest then, Antonidas?"

"A vote," he started to say, and people were already groaning before a voice suddenly cut in.

"If I may, archmage?"

Korialstrasz turned to see the human guise of Vasyrgos standing up, finally speaking on behalf of the kingdom of Alterac who had quickly pledged their assistance almost right after the invasion began. Alteraci reinforcements were understandably small in number compared even to Dalaran's standing forces, but the gesture was gratefully welcomed nonetheless. Being a smaller force also meant that they were much quicker to mobilize and sent over via magical portal. That they had just recently been in battles of their own against the orcs spoke of Alterac's commitment to its allies.

The Alteraci royal cavalry on Kyle's probe constructs and the hussar-knights drew curious eyes, but it was the Hollander warmachines that garnered most of the attention and provided some much needed morale boost with their cannons and imposing figures. From what Korialstrasz overheard, the machines and their gnome pilots had to be guarded lest they be accosted by overly curious academicians who were looking for another journal to be credited under their names.

Back in the chamber, Antonidas looked almost relieved as he gestured for Vasyrgos to speak. "Mage Valoghan, you have a suggestion?"

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

"Not me exactly," the disguised blue dragon said, "but I've just been contacted by my king." Soft murmurs fluttered throughout the hall. "The Gilnean invasion of Kul Tiras has been thwarted. King Kyle will be personally coming to aid in the defense of Dalaran once he is certain that the admiralty is truly secure from any further attempts. By the latest, he should be here tomorrow."

"That is heartening news," Antonidas politely responded, remembering that Kyle is not a warrior king. The magics and constructs that he wielded to crush the orcs in Lordaeron would no doubt be invaluable here.

"He also says that Lord Admiral Daelin Proudmoore is mustering a force to aid in our defense, though it would take some time. In the meantime, the lord admiral has opened his armory, and the admiralty's cannons and their crew have been made available. If magi could be spared to open a portal and bring them over…?"

Antonidas blinked at the news. "Cannons? How many of them?"

Vasyrgos shrugged. "According to my king, the lord admiral is willing to loan the guns from several ships for the cause."

"I…see. That is good news indeed." There was a change in the air, of optimism seeping into the frantic dread, as the archmage looked out to the assembly. "We'll need…a dozen or so magi to aid in the transportation."

"I know the right people for it," Archmage Modera replied.

"That's going to be a lot of cannons," Commander Thales commented with hints of hope in his tone. "They might be slow, but the firepower they provide…"

"Ranged firepower at that," another commander amended, "It'd soften the Gilneans up, that's for sure."

"Did King Kyle offer any hints as to the nature of his additional support?" Korialstrasz voiced, reminding a few of the archmagi of the spider-like golems and flying constructs that had taken part in the attack on Stromgarde.

Vasyrgos gave another shrug. "He didn't specify, but my king has promised to not be stingy in his aid."

Which meant that they should prepare to witness Kyle's new toys.

With Kul Tiras' cannons now added to the defenders' arsenal, hems and haws began to spread as mage and commander alike began rethinking strategies. With Kyle promising to join in the defense personally, Korialstrasz idly wondered how much of the planning would go to waste.

*****

Despite their misgivings, the advance was going faster than expected, and with losses well below expectations. The humans of Dalaran had opted to pull back rather than put up stronger resistance.

Tichondrius didn't mind that they had chosen caution over futile bravado. It gave the dreadlords more leeway in their schedule. All that mattered right now was that they reached Dalaran City as quickly as possible with as many Gilnean pawns as possible. If the human fools thought that preserving their strength behind their walls would aid them, then Tichondrius would happily let them entertain that false hope.

"I have to admit," Balnazzar drawled from behind Tichondrius, "for all this haste, this march is beginning to bore me."

"Your boredom is irrelevant," Tichondrius countered idly, keeping his attention on the core of the army, making sure that the warlock puppets were doing their jobs passably well. "We all have our parts to play. Maintain the defenses, the last thing we need is for the magi to ascertain just enough information to formulate an inconvenient resistance."

Balnazzar kept silent as he dismissed himself, and the leader of the dreadlords paid his subordinate little mind. Balnazzar would do his job keeping the wards against arcane interference up, or risk earning the wrath of Archimonde or Kil'jaeden. Just as Mal'Ganis and Detheroc had their tasks of keeping the Gilnean host coherent and moving in good order, or Tichondrius in ensuring that the frail human warlocks did not expire prematurely.

Thanks to ample use of Fel sorcery, the Gilnean invasion force had not slowed down short of their earlier encounters with resistance. The dark energies kept the corrupted mortals fed, rabid and awake throughout the advance. It was a highly demanding enchantment though, so every now and then the warlocks would cull a few score or so of the weaker rabble and feed their life forces to maintain the spell.

It was a fate meant for any prisoners taken from settlements or battle, but due to the lack of them, this price had to be paid. But considering that the losses sustained so far were light, losing a few hundred pawns that should have fallen in battle by now was an acceptable compromise.

Tichondrius swept a cursory glance over the harvest-warlocks, barely noting the blank-eyed stares of conscripts and footmen as serrated ritual daggers were dragged across their throats. By improvising on Ner'zhul's plague of undeath, the common folk of Gilneas had been corrupted into little more than breathing tools kept under control of the new Lich King. They were far less efficient than skeletons, zombies and ghouls, but they were far less taxing on Genn to control with his lack of magical aptitude. But the lack of aptitude did have the pleasant side effect of wildly mutating the rabid, almost mindless horde, which Tichondrius had to admit was something which the undead were less susceptible to.

If anything, it was a new line of research to delve into if he ever had the time. If they could better refine how such mutations could be triggered. It'd mean less reliance on the pit lords of the Burning Legion to offer up their corruptive blood, which in turn might make future infiltrations and subversions easier on resources.

For the present though, Tichondrius felt confident that the brutish, frothing horde would at least make it to the walls of the city in large enough numbers, resistance or not.

A thought occurred to him, and the dreadlord reached out for his subordinate. "Mal'Ganis."

"Aye?" The voice of his subordinate was casual, bordering on contemptuous, no doubt mildly annoyed from having to keep Genn and his more sentient commanders focused on the mission.

"How are our Death Knights?"

"Docile, I've kept them heavily enthralled."

While allowing the Gilneas' nobility to retain most of their sentience preserved their martial skill and tactical acumen, it came with the downside of typical mortal arrogance. It was another weakness of Genn; he still viewed them as his vassals and members of his court, and thus hadn't imposed his will as strongly as he did on the rest of the populace. To avoid any potential issues brought about by glory seeking or rivalries, Mal'Ganis had essentially made the entirety of the Gilnean elite's personalities dormant, only to be awakened when their skills were required. For the time being, they had little more awareness than the beasts they rode on.

"Hm. Awaken a few."

Tichondrius could feel Mal'Ganis' shifting expression as he received the reply. "To what end?"

"Send them north, into Lordaeron. Have them lay an ambush for the first legions that would inevitably come marching down."

"By themselves?"

"A small group should put up enough of a fight. If they're skilled enough to draw it out into long-term harassment, then all the better. The objective is to cast wariness on the reinforcements and slow them down."

"Hm… I understand."

"Good. Make sure to choose the right ones, I do not want bored pawns breaking their cover to indulge in raiding."

"Of course." Tichondrius picked up mild offense from Mal'Ganis at such an obvious instruction. "I'll have Genn provide us with a list of eligible candidates. If he is convinced that the Crowley family has been sighted with his daughter, that should sharpen his focus."

"Yes, good. I will leave it to you then."

Breaking the telepathic communication, Tichondrius returned his attention back to the warlocks, watching as another batch of mindless Gilneans were ritually eviscerated and bled out. He pushed aside Mal'Ganis' little barb, though for a moment the dreadlord almost entertained the notion of taking some discrete time searching for the noble house that had not only escaped Gilneas' fate, but also left with Genn's wife and daughter by sheer luck.

It was a wasteful expenditure of his time and energy right now, the pragmatic side of the dreadlord reminded himself. He'll have to wait until Archimonde's arrival is secured, and then Tichondrius would content himself with hunting and slowly ending their lives.