Alas, Wintergrasp

18 Feb

The canons of Wintergrasp Keep thundered.

From his vantage point, a short way east of the Sunken Ring, Commander Kel Firespring watched as the explosions from horde artillery walked in slow fiery steps down the valley and into the ragged line of Alliance siege vehicles.

The keep guns thundered again and not for the first time, the night elf commander questioned the sanity of the Alliance High Command.  For weeks it had been like this.  Too few soldiers, too few vehicles and no advantage of terrain or surprise.  He was spending men and equipment like water and for what?  To take and hold this ancient fortress – to deny the horde access to the relic, to deny them access to the mineral wealth held inside of this awful, frozen basin.

A crackling rip of explosions sounded from the south, Firespring frowned, but didn’t pull his gaze from the carnage being wrought on his men.

“They’re hitting Eastpark,” he said flatly.  Behind him, the small knot of officers and specialists that made up his battle staff were already in action.  Maps were unfolded, curses shared and words like “flanked” and “overrun” traded back and forth like coinage in a card game gone bad.

“Hold fast.  Push to the keep.  We must stay on target.”  This offered from the steady block of plate armor and beard that was Siegemaster Stouthandle.

“Divert our reserve,” countered his executive officer, the perpetually scowling Knight Captain from Stormwind.  “If we can turn their assault force we can follow up and push the walls from two different directions.”

With a violence that startled every living thing within a dozen leagues, new explosions, massive ones, suddenly filled the valley with fire and smoke.  The concussion wave that followed billowed their cloaks and Firespring’s long ebon hair cascaded out and down like a falling ripple of night.

“Bloody hell,” Stouthandle breathed.  “Those were goblin siegebreaker mines, big ones.”

Firespring raised his spyglass and quickly focused in on the eastern approach.  At first he could see nothing, everything was black as night.  Before he could curse, the darkness faded into a tempest of roiling black and grey smoke back lit by stabs of hungry flame.  The next moment he could see figures moving amid the wreckage, the blue and gold of burning Alliance vehicles, the still forms of his infantry scattered amongst the debris.  As the smoke began to clear, the elven commander could hear a roaring, a great wave of sound that seemed to build and build.

He lowered his glass – he knew what was coming.

From the false crest of the eastern approach a seemingly endless wall of heavy infantry in hammered black iron plate rose like a bloody black and red tide.  In moments the rush of Horde soldiery filled the gaps of the clearing explosions, swallowed up his assault forces as if they were but flotsam in the middle of a raging river.

“Commander!  Sir, scouts report that Eastpark has fallen.  Horde forces are on the move.  They’re headed to the towers sir!”

Flamespring looked toward his aide, young Lómëhtar.  She was bleeding, her proud silver and green sentinal’s armor battered and rent.  He nodded at her report and returned his gaze to the oncoming Horde forces before him.

“Such might, wasted here, when it could be turned on the Lich King,” he thought grimly.

Firespring stole a quick glance at  his advisors and aides.  The look of hopeless desperation and grim commitment that they each wore stabbed at his heart.  Every one of them wanted to flee, but true to their commander’s example, they stood their ground, ready to stand and die on this hill.

Turning his gaze back out toward the onrushing forest of axe and pike, sword and spear, the elven commander let out a long breath that he didn’t even realize he’d been holding.

“Sound the withdrawal,” he said, “get our people out of here.”


Dedicated to the desperate handful of Moon Guard Alliance that throw themselves against the endless wall of Horde during prime-time Wintergrasp.

12-15 stacks of Tenacity every, single game is getting to be brutal.

Not sure what happened on MG, but over the past month or so, the Horde have been dominating Wintergrasp to the point that Horde guilds are starting to schedule Vault of Acheron runs like a regularly occurring raid.

The last few times I’ve zoned in, it’s to see an endless sweep of Horde players rushing past The Sunken Ring towards the Alliance spawn point.  They pin us in place and destroy us in detail.  Having spent a lot of years playing Horde on Moon Guard I have to say this…

“Where the hell did all of you guys come from?”


2 Responses to “Alas, Wintergrasp”

  1. Rucker February 19, 2010 at 16:16 #

    Same thing on Steamwheedle.

    The only thing 10+ stacks of tenacity is good for is increasing your honor kills. Too bad you can’t buy gear with HKs. Sigh.

  2. ambient February 22, 2010 at 20:47 #

    I’d say it’s worse on Steamwheedle! On Horde-side we absolutely DO place VoA raids on the normal schedule. The only potential hangup is the bosses despawning if you get too close to battle time, so at worst we have to move VoA from the START to the END of the night.

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