A6 - Winterspring BG Special

“Dammit, I hate portals”
The Huntress flexed and stretched about.
She placed a trio of digits on her lips. A piercing whistle sounded and died in the snowbound thicket.
Thick, quick crunches in the snow grew louder with each passing moment.
Then they stopped.
Steps in the snow replaced by soft purring.
“Hey Frost! Who’s a good little kitty?”
The Huntress stroked her pet affectionately.
“Are you gonna tear up some Alliance today?”

The glowing feline gave a low growl.
“Good boy!”
Gigi looked about. Every direction, no one.
“This is what I get for being early…”
A dozen or so surges of energy manifested about the Sin’dorei.
“For the Horde!”
Shouts of pride echoed stoically
“Shut the hell up!”
All standing were silenced.
“If you are a part of A6, step to the right. If you aren’t, I hate you.”
No motion.
“Alright, let’s try it this way. A6 right, everyone else left.”
Most moved to the left. Some stayed in place, but none went to the right.
She could tell that none of her compatriots were amongst the crowd, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t pick a fight with those who didn’t listen well.
The Huntress stood a foot away from the closest dissenter, a large Tauren Warrior.
“I believe I gave you an order.”
The bovine soldier snorted.
“On what authority do you presume to command us?”
Gig gestured to the yawning weapon behind her.
“That.”
She then gestured to the shoulder-slung slug thrower.
“And that. Questions?”
The Tauren was not amused.
“You waste our time woman.”
Gigi cocked her head to one side.
“That so?”
The Warrior’s vision was greatly obscured by his massive faceplate. It was quite curious when the Huntress vanished in but a single blink.
“Where did she go?”
He blinked again.
“Peekaboo.”
A set of radiant green eyes blinded the Warrior. His sense of touch, however, retained full cognizance. The Tauren’s midsection felt a painful jab as he fell backwards.
The Huntress spun through the air before gracefully landing on the snow.
“I love it when people disobey me. It’s always a good workout.”
Gigi stretched her legs out a bit.
“Now where was I?”
She looked about at whoever was assembled.
“Ah yes. Let’s just assume none of you are a part of A6, ok?”
Communal accord from a dozen shaking heads.
“Alright then, mount up and press onward toward the fortress. Once you receive a commendation, head back to the nearest factory and retrieve a vehicle. You should know what to do from there. And for the love of all that is holy, focus fire! I do not want to see cracks and crumbles on every wall, but no breaches! Is this understood?”
Though none were soldiers, all stood at attention as if they were.
“Ma’am, yes ma’am!”
Gigi was beaming with pride.
“Now this is awesome.”
The Huntress watched as each of her little toy soldiers marched off to war. Her revelry came to an end as she realized the task still looming ahead of her.
“Damn them,” she muttered to herself.
“Alright Frost, let’s start looking for those idiots…”
The Huntress looked about and sniffed the air.
“Not much to go on? You have anything Frost?”
The glowing feline sniffed and pawed at the ground. His snout flared as cold air was taken in and expelled.
“Come on, boy. I really don’t want to have to search all over this damn place and miss out on the hell raising.”
An explosion sounded in the distance. Bodies lifted into the air in front of a billowing plume of acrid smoke.
The Huntress sulked.
“Ah, I wanted to do that!”
Her feline companion rubbed against her leg consolingly.
“Maybe I should just join the fray and let them find me.”
Frosty once again jostled her thigh, but not compassionately. Those glowing blue eyes gazed guiltily at their master.
“Don’t give me that look.”
The rime kitty shifted about, but didn’t move his eyes.
“Fine… I’ll look for them.”
The Huntress roared the cheetah’s fury and bolted to the Horde encampment on the opposing side of the battleground. Wintry white blurred as the Sin’dorei passed by.
“Come on, why am I always having to wait for them?”
Her pace slowed to a gait. The Huntress took a few shallow breaths and sniffed the air. Her eyes widened slightly.
“Familiar, but so different.”
“Felicitations, my dear Gigi.”
The voice was gruff, yet had an ethereal echo about it.
“I’ll go ahead and venture a guess you’re a Tauren Death Knight.”
“You are correct, Huntress.”
That simple affirmation was sufficient to give her the identity of the stranger.
“Please tell me you were killed by a hundred of the Alliance’s finest troops and that you took them all with you…”
“Not exactly, but the circumstances of my demise were not so dissimilar.”
The Huntress kept her back turned. She chuckled slightly.
“Quick question. Why do Death Knights speak so solemnly and eloquently? Does the Lich King shove an icicle up your ass when he revives you?”
“No, he does not.”
Gigi placed her face in her palm.
“Welcome back then Demi, I guess.”
“Thank you.”
The Huntress looked about.
“You’re short one Abandon it seems.”
The Death Knight stood rigidly as he replied.
“He is not. We’ve been separated since the battle began. We took the portal here, but we were sent to different encampments. I’ve been looking for him since.”
Gigi once again checked the wind for a sign of her compatriot.
“I got nothin’. How long have you been at it?”
“Slightly more than eight minutes.”
The Huntress pondered her situation.
“None of the towers have fallen, but none of the gates have been destroyed either.”
Frosty pawed at her ankle. Gigi looked down at her companion.
“Ah, really?”
The feline eyed his master detachedly.
“Fine! Demi, take the cat and look for Abandon.”
“I do not believe I am capable of handling your pet.”
Already very irritated, the Huntress rubbed her shoulders exhaustedly.
“Just take him… It’s overkill to have two trackers trying to find one person. He already wants to go. Just tell him what to do. It’s not that frickin’ hard.”
Not one to question in life and less eager to do so in death, the chevalier relented.


Gigi shot with perfect precision. Targets were illuminated by the arcane eye of her rifle and sniped just as quickly.
A night elf Druid was repeatedly casting her moonfire upon a fellow Blood Elf. Gigi sighted her weapon to the Druid and pulled the trigger.
Click.
Gigi twitched her finger repeatedly.
Click, click, click.
“Dammit!”
The Huntress tossed her slugthrower to the ground and ran toward the Druid.
The night elf cried out as she felt a sharp pain at the base of her spine. Momentum from her attacker pushed her directly into the Rogue she had been intent on murdering. She was met by a forceful roundhouse to the face. Again the Druid staggered, but back to the Huntress.
“I’ve been waiting to do this!”
Gigi counted two and a half seconds mentally. She placed her hands upon the frosted ground and brought her legs up and down in a counterclockwise motion. The Druid was struck square on the crown of her head. Her body tumbled forward numerous times before settling in an embankment of snow.
The Huntress was trying to steady herself. Her forceful strike left her in an awkwardly unbalanced stance. The Rogue she saved had finished bandaging herself and approached her savior.
“Thanks a lot.”
Gigi retrieved her rifle and gave it a once over.
“Not a problem. I would have taken her out more quickly, but my damn gun jammed.”
The Huntress smacked the chamber of her slugthrower repeatedly.
“Shit! I think one of the bolts got lodged in the chamber. I won’t be able to fix this out here.”
Gigi was more than ready to snap her weapon on her knee, but realized the cost of getting that repaired.
“Maybe you can use mine instead. I never use it, but it’s handy to have.”
The Rogue pulled out an older weapon from Outland.
“Thanks. I guess that makes us even.”
Gigi checked her newly acquired weapon. It was a shotgun. She hadn’t possessed one in such a long time; not enough stopping power at a distance and a bitch to reload. It wasn’t exactly tailored to the Huntress’ needs, but a gun’s a gun when you don’t have one.
The Huntress stared down the iron sights of her borrowed weapon with incredible eagerness.
“Any more shells for this thing?”
The Rogue checked the many pockets of her tunic and belt; producing only a handful of ammunition.
“Damn. I guess I’m gonna have to melee most of the time.”
The Huntress deftly loaded each shot into the chamber then pulled the pump. Without batting an eye, she grabbed the ejected, unspent cartridge and pocketed it.
“You may want to come with, lest I forget to give this back to you at the end. Oh, and by the way, I’m Gigi.”
The Rogue was stunned.
“Gigi? Really? As in A6 Gigi?”
The Huntress held herself in a pose of pride.
“The one and only patented ass-whooper.”
The Rogue tried to contain her exuberance.
“Wow, what an honor to be saved by Gigi herself!”
“Yeah, sure. Look, we gotta get going now or I’ll never find everyone else before time’s up.”
“Let’s get to it then!”
The Huntress adopted the characteristics of a cheetah once again, but so did the Rogue.
“Aspect of the Pack? Nice. My name’s Elovia, at your service.”
“Cool. I’ve always wanted two pets.”
The Blood Elves took off to the combat ground nearest them. The closing horizon revealed a steep embankment of snow leading to the main thoroughfare of Wintergrasp. Both Sin’dorei kept running until they reached their unique moments for action. Elovia turned her body to face the western goblin factory and dug her heels into the incline. She slid down with perfect, albeit sluggish pace.
Gigi, on the other hand, took a more dramatic means of overcoming her obstruction. Her last step pushed her off the gradient and into the air. The Huntress struck the ground and rolled twice before coming to a complete stop. Her counterpart was still sliding down.
“Come on!”
The Rogue leapt the last bit of distance and landed next to her newfound friend.
The Blood Elves gave one another a pair of predicating looks. Then Gigi sniffed the air.
“I smell the blood of a certain pimplock. Someone seems to be in a predicament. Maybe you could score some points with Nyhm if you save his showboating ass.”
“Ya think?”
The Huntress continued sniffing the air.
“Totally. He’s due west.”

The Sin’dorei once again started down the path.
“We’re getting close. I can smell Nyhm’s blood. It’s faint, but fresh.”
A sense of urgency slipped onto Elovia’s face.
“Let’s hurry then!”
The Rogue bolted ahead of the Huntress.
“Crap!”
Gigi pressed forward as fast as she could, but even her skull shatteringly powerful legs couldn’t keep up with the endurance a Rogue possessed. A quarter of a mile later and the Huntress skidded to a halt. Hands on her knees, she hyperventilated repeatedly.
“Damn sprint…”

“Shit…”
The Warlock kept ducking behind rocks, trees, whatever was convenient.
A shadowbolt screeched into his backside. The ebon magic staggered him for a few moments, but he recovered quickly enough to return the favor.
Another projectile struck the warlock in the shoulder. However, it was a physical missile, an arrow.
Nyhm winced as the nerves relayed their tormenting messages.
The Warlock rolled to dodge a volley of arrows, carefully minding the one already in his shoulder. Nyhm fired off an immolation before the attacking hunter was able to ready another shot. The tiny dwarf flailed about as first his armor, then skin melted off. The Warlock took mild pleasure from his handiwork, but winced as the projectile in his ligament humbled him. He took a few deep breaths and grabbed the shaft of the arrow.
Nyhm took his withheld his respiring and pulled the bolt free.
The Warlock cried out as the razorhead tore a fair amount of muscle before coming loose.
He threw the instrument of his agony onto the white snow. The rime quickly drank his blood.
“Dammit all. Why the hell did I start with the imp?”
An explosion rocked the earth just in front of the Warlock. He cradled his head into his arms instinctively. Once the smoke settled, Nyhm about faced and looked at the thing that fired the explosive.
A demolisher was plodding across the snow with a thunderous pace.
“Shit!”
The Warlock attempted to summon his dreadsteed.
“Come on, come on!”
He could feel the nethery energies coalescing into a near tangible presence. The outline of his ebon charger became clear.
“Yes!”
The skin on the back of his neck grew intensely hot.
A bright light filled his sight as would the sun.
It reached its luminescent zenith as it met the ground. A wave of energy rippled into the Warlock, knocking him back.
Whatever his summoning conjured had evaporated.
The Warlock feebly staggered to his feet. He felt a slight pain in his midsection. His robe was singed and the flames kept crawling circuitously. Nyhm quickly patted the seared cloth. His piercing emerald eyes turned to the machination approaching him. Its wheels crushed the snow beneath into a thick powder. From behind the vehicle swarmed a retinue of Alliance soldiers. They quickly encircled the Warlock. Nyhm swiveled his head about to gauge his opposition. A cold shiver ran up his spine. He realized what this meant.
“Please let that have been the cold.”
The sound of crinkling snow came from every direction. The Warlock fell to his knees and clutched the ground in a talonous grasp. He reeled his fingers and the snow back into his grip. The ice vaporized within his palm. The lines in the snow glowed green with felfire.
The Warlock took deep breaths. Electricity crackled about and shadows enveloped his presence.
Many of the Alliance realized what this meant. Weapons were drawn, spells were incanted and projectiles loosed.
However, their actions came far too late.
A great demon stood amidst the Alliance soldiers. The fel beast channeled shadow energy quickly and directed it at the war machine. The nether bolt quickly eroded much of the demolisher’s firing mechanism. The demon turned his attention to the closest target. A dwarf Warrior charged the demon with mace in hands. The Warlock snapped his clawed fingers and immolated his enemy. More melee-inclined troops surged forward. The demon sensed the unique essences of each individual about him. He waited patiently for each to come in range, even allowing one quick Rogue to get in a quick few slashes upon his ebony hide. The demon raised his arms and uttered a word of demonic power. Raging fel flames radiated outward. Once the fires found their sustenance, they quickly consumed whatever they had found. Metal, leather, flesh, bone; all were hungrily devoured.
The Warlock was a bit too enthralled by his own handiwork. He failed to notice the projectiles heading toward him.
Frost, fire, arcane, nature, shadow and holy; each school of magic struck the demon’s hide with forceful wrath. This incensed the Warlock, but he was unable to move. Ice encased the lower half of his body and there was little to nothing he could do. Instinct compelled him to slash at the rime, but it was much too thick for even his razors of hands to break quickly. More magic pelted him, amplified by the previous spells cast.
Despite the stamina and resilience afforded to him by his demonic countenance, he was still very vulnerable to magic. The presence of pyrogenic spellcasting negated the frost, but the Warlock still could not move. His very soul weakened as the magics ebbed his life from him. Even his own body refused to obey him. He fell to his knees again, but he had no trick to reveal.
“No!”
The demon wailed his anguish. For a few moments, he was able to disrupt the casters.
With whatever strength he had left, the Warlock steeled himself for the end. His massive wings folded about into a makeshift shield. For several seconds, little occurred.  No new pain reared itself. Slowly, the demon unfurled his appendages to see what had transpired.
The corpses he had made were floating in small puddles of evaporated water, but there were fresh cadavers hovering about in their own blood.
The Warlock stood and observed his environment. He had been saved, but by what, he didn’t know. The nether energies quickly receded back into the Great Dark Beyond. Where once stood a mighty demon now hunched a badly injured Warlock.
The curved form of a female Blood Elf Rogue phased into the visible world. Her blades were soaked with red.
Nyhm tried to conjure any dignity still left within him. Despite numerous lacerations, he stood as nobly as he could.
“It was in your best interest to assist me.”
The Rogue gasped.
“I saved your ass and you say it’s good for me?”
The Warlock sighed.
“I suppose I should thank you.”
Elovia pinched her pointed brow.
“That’s probably the best I will get out of you.”
She hadn’t noticed it at first, but the Warlock slunk into a drooping posture. His hand clutched a bleeding wound.
“You’re still injured. Would it be in my best interest to assist you?”
The sarcasm was lost on the Warlock. Most of the waking world was lost to his sans sanguine mind.
Deft hands quickly wrapped about his abdomen. A strong embrace was an invigorating gesture, but the focus was the frostweave cloth sealing gaping lacerations.
“Ironic, a Rogue providing a hemostat. What the hell is happening to this world?”
Nyhm was able to regain limited consciousness as his pulse slowed. Blurry curves filled his gaze.
“Dammit. I think you’re bleeding internally. I need a healer.”
The Warlock was able to gesture at a pocket in his robe.
Elovia stopped her medical proceedings and checked the container. A small green crystal stood out amongst various odds and ends the Warlock had acquired. The Rogue picked it up, but was a bit perplexed.
“Uh, how the hell do I use this on someone else?”
The Rogue sighed.
“Where’s a Holy Pally when you need one?”
Small grunts of effort brought her attention back to the Warlock. In her moment of irritation, Nyhm was able to take the healthstone. Slowly, he palmed the crystal and siphoned its essence. The Warlock faded out of consciousness again.
Seconds passed with no effect.
The Rogue leaned forward patiently. Concern wracked itself upon her visage.
“No…”
A sharp breath from the Warlocks body showed that he was still alive. He quickly resuscitated himself, even leaping right onto his feet from his supine position. Nyhm flexed his neck muscles about and let out a deep breath.
“Thanks for the assist.”
The Rogue retained her kneeling position, staring blankly back at the now recovered Warlock.
“Uh, you’re welcome.”
Nyhm busied himself with fixing his hair.
“Curious. Why are you here? I thought everyone was pressing into the fortress.”



...to be continued.