Tournament - Sauron vs. The Horde of Azeroth

[Twogunkid]

Fire burned the nostrils of the warlock as Garrosh turned him aside, “This… was not our destiny…” was all Gul’dan could muster, Garrosh tossed the axe of Mannorath to his father while taunting Gul’dan that “Times change.”

 

“We will never be slaves!” screamed Grommash, “but we will be conquerors!” 

 

Cheers erupted from the orcish horde gathered around him, but hushed quickly as an elegant figure stepped forward, an elf, fair in appearance. What an elf was doing here at the site of their battle with Mannorath was unknown. Blades and shouts whirled on the elf who simply raised his hands. 

 

“Speak elf while your tongue still rests in your head!” Garrosh shouted. “What business have you in Draenor?” This was not part of the past history he had known. He should be able to stop the corruption of the orcs by the burning legion to forge them into his Iron Horde.

 

“I am Annatar, giver of gifts, and I wish to pay homage to the mighty Garrosh Hellscream and his Father.” The elf produced a ring, an intricate band of silver metal wrapped around a single set bloodstone with a black speck in the middle. It had the appearance of an eye wreathed in flame, one could lose themselves looking into such a gem. “Such mighty deeds are worthy of tribute and I would be the first to give it to the slayers of Mannorath. Indeed, I have seen orcs before, but none like you.” The horde relaxed at the honeyed words they were offered. His voice flowed like a pleasing tune in one ear and through the whole horde they found themselves disarmed without a hand being raised. Even Garrosh found himself relaxing. Perhaps history had left this minor figure out. A groveling flatterer posed no threat to him. Taking the ring he considered it before sliding it on. Why not? Why should not Garrosh Hellscream be proffered tribute at every opportunity? For now he had work to do.

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“Thrall? You’re too late old friend!” Garrosh swung at the warchief of Azeroth. His Iron Horde was invincible, he was invincible. 

 

“No, Garrosh. No more. Just you, and me. I challenge you to Mak’gora.” Thrall’s confident challenge was nothing to Garrosh. He accepted the shaman’s challenge without a second thought. The two met at the Stones of Prophecy. Everything would end where it began. 

 

Thrall said something to Garrosh, but it hadn’t registered. He swung in a feral rage. The rage came easily; it felt good, like a comfortable arm chair. It comforted him, it warmed him, it filled him with everything he needed. It gave him clarity. The only thing in the world was what he was going to kill and that was Thrall. Thrall’s hammer impacted against Garrosh, but he shrugged it off in his rage shouting that, “All I did. I did for the Horde!” and then Thrall said something that penetrated the haze of rage for a moment.

 

“You failed the Horde!” For a moment and only a moment, Garrosh paused before hurling his axe towards Thrall and leaping at him bare handed. His fists moved on their own, the ring cutting Thrall’s face as he landed mighty blow after mighty blow upon him. 

 

“You made me warchief!” Garrosh cried as he shattered Thrall’s prayer beads with another savage strike. Thrall’s hammer was lost as the green skinned orc fell to the ground. “You left me! To pick up,” a strike, “your,” another blow “pieces!” and another blow punctuated each syllable as the rage flew through Garrosh. He lifted Thrall over his head and bellowed, “You failed me!” and tossed the Shaman to the ground. 

 

The two breathed heavily regarding each other. Surely, Thrall would see his error and accept his death with dignity. Surely he would pay tribute to the great Garrosh Hellscream as that elf had done long ago. Surely, Thrall would recognize his weakness. Breathing hard Garrosh taunted his foe, “You never had the strength of a true warrior.” and he realized his error. Thrall spoke of his power all around and as the elemental magic pummeled him Garrosh found himself clinging to the ring on his hand. A reminder of his might and power as fire and wind tossed him into the air before slamming him into the earth. The earth itself formed a fist around him as he struggled to free the hand with the ring on it. Garrosh prepared to snarl one last act of defiance when he felt the ring slip free from his finger, his last thoughts and actions were following the ring to the ground as Thrall’s lightning ended his brutish, violent life. 

 

Thrall looked upon his former successor sadly. Certainly some if they learned of it would object to his use of magic in Mak’gora, but-. Thrall’s musings were cut short as he saw a ring upon the ground. Feeling the cut on his cheek he knew whose it must have been. He placed it on his finger as something of a grim trophy. With Vol’jin in charge he did not have to worry about the direction and fate of the horde. He would have a farm. He would have peace.

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Amber waves of grain greeted Saurfang as he approached Thrall’s home. Thrall had given up the chance at leadership, but following Vol’jin’s death, Sylvannus’s leadership of the horde had proven disastrous. Saurfang needed him. He appealed to Thrall’s sense of duty, but Thrall thought, how can the Horde be led by anyone other than me? Both of his successors, Garrosh and Vol’jin were failures. Sylvvanus clearly could not handle it. Saurfang lacked the leadership skills. It could only be him. His musings were interrupted as Sylvvanus’s assassins struck. In an instant the shaman and the old warrior had the upper hand on these would be killers.

 

“You were followed!” Thrall said with anger as Saurfang examined the body of the rogue whose neck he snapped.

 

“I followed them.” Saurfang retorted matter of factly. The rage in thrall grew, all four elements would level their wrath upon Sylvannus. He would achieve leadership of the horde and then, perhaps, under his leadership, the Horde would know victory and peace. His hand fidgeted upon the ring, Saurfang was right to have come to him for leadership. No one else was qualified for the job. No one else could bring peace. That boy Anduin playing at being a king? He was no leader. The Alliance was as rudderless and feckless as the current horde leadership. Perhaps he should rule them as well.

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Author’s Note.

 

I admit I pulled deep on the World of Warcraft storyline here, following an obviously very different Battle for Azeroth after a few tweaks to Warlords of Draenor. I admit it is a different flavor of geek than we usually pull on, but I wanted to give Sauron a chance to flex some corrupting muscles here. 

 

[Callisto]

Learn More About
Sauron
Read more about Sauron at Wikipedia
Official Site: New Line Cinema Links: Wikipedia The Thain's Book Encyclopedia of Arda

The Horde of Azeroth
Read more about The Horde of Azeroth at Wikipedia
Official Site: Blizzard Entertainment Links: wowwiki Wikipedia Old Horde

[SSJRuss]

Not really familiar with either combatant here, at least as far as feats go. I always wanted to get more into WoW, but I was too much of a Star Wars/Sci-fi nerd.

[JohnnyChany]

Already had a matchup in the back pocket ready to go for the finals. Nicely done.

[Twogunkid]

8 hours ago, JohnnyChany said:

Already had a matchup in the back pocket ready to go for the finals. Nicely done.

The best part of tournaments is that they force me to actually write  the ideas that come into my head. I need the deadline to be efficient.