The Hal'Vine Family Tome

Chapter Six - Alteric Valley Blues
Part II

Explosions rang out in the distance as the battered front line warriors, mages, and other skilled classes fell back. A few of them stumbling up the hill, grabbing at a wounded limb, or being carried on the shoulder of their fellow fighters. A few thin trails of blood followed close. Jori simply ushered them along yelling at them to move faster before he'd look up only to see Drevian struggling to maintain control of his bow, using it to fend back the heavy two-headed axe of a Tauren brute. Jorifen pushed through the river of flowing soldiers before, at a quick pace, he stormed towards his brother. His gold eyes flaring just before his form changed to a feline and he was taking off in a quick sprint towards the Tauren. Leaping through the air and sinking those large, ten inch sabers into the enemy warriors arm.
The foe let out a scream of pain as his right arm was pulled away from his axe by the powerful, heavy feline, dropping the axe and clenching the left fist to strike the cat in the snout. Fortunately the druid released his grip, and the hunter used a heavy, mail boot to kick the Tauren down the archers hill.
Jorifen returned to his elven form, holding a hand towards the Tauren attempting to stand up to rain down a heavy bolt of moonfire upon the enemies shoulders. Turning to his brother to grab at his collar.

"When I tell you to fall back. Fall back." the druid grits his teeth, glaring at his brother before releasing his grasp with a shove. Walking back to the soldiers in need. Drevias followed heel, remaining quiet, knowing well enough that without his brothers help, that battle could have ended very differently. Jori wiped the Taurens blood from his beard, walking to the nearest bludgeoned warrior to give whatever help he could. The Hunter just watched.

"Damnit. this battle's been going on for days. Yet its still a draw over land controlled. We're getting no where fast and with the way these men and women are dropping and getting beaten back. We'll either die or be forced to retreat." Drev's mind raced with every possibility, a frown forming over his face as he continued to stare blankly at his brother. Every possibility lead to either him, or his kin being slain in this battle over the Valley with little chance of success now that they were forced back. He couldn't help but hope the Horde was having the same trouble with wounded and the dead. It was the only thought that brought him hope as he began counting the enemy he managed to shoot down.

Jorifen turned, pulling the worthless staff from his back as he began to draw in the snow with it. Explaining in detail the future plan that was to take place to retake the field of strife. Yelling loudly to assert what everyone's role would be in this up and coming battle. Drevias could only slowly step behind the circle forming and listen quietly. To both the whispers of the crowd and his brothers tactics. Its wasn't until the Gnomes, now only three of them, ran back yelling.
"The Horde are advancing!" one called out in a shrill voice, one turned around still lobbing iron grenades down the hill.
"Form up! Give them everything you've got! Let them take nothing but their dead back to their Commander. Nothing but the dead, and broken bones!" Jorifen bellowed. This hill would soon be covered in the blood of both the enemy, and the soldiers of the Alliance. It was inevitable.