Thorongoral/The Battle of Andorhal

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This article is fan fiction

The contents herein are entirely player made and in no way represent official World of Warcraft lore or history. The characters, places, and events listed are of an independent nature and are applied for roleplaying purposes only.

The Battle of AndorhalEdit

A retelling of events during the first Scourge Invasion written by Corwin Baxter of Stormwind, Scribe and admirer of history.

The shadow that passed overhead blocked out the light of Elune. His eyes, stinging from the sweat from hours of hard riding, glinted in the moonlight as the large Necropolis slowly hovered by. Looking behind him, soldiers were nervously licking their lips as the anticipation of what was to come neared. His hand moved to the large hammer at his side as if to comfort himself. Many battles began this way for the young dwarf of Ironforge. Never knowing what the outcome may be, but always eager to face the coming fate that lie ahead. Not one to embrace fear, he turned to the men and shouted, “FOR THE ALLIANCE!”, and then charged towards a large glowing crystal that crashed to the ground. Immediately the army behind him erupted in shouts and battle cry’s and the sound of armored boots rumbled like a stampede of crazed Shoveltusk defending their young.

As the first wave of soldiers reached the pulsing crystal, they were met by a force of foul smelling humanoid beasts. Their flesh was rotting and tattered armor clinging as if about to fall off. Mindless and vicious these scourge were. Screeching could be heard over the sounds of battle, in tones that were nearly piercing to the ear. The ground was colored black with the mixture of Human, Dwarven and scourge blood.

In a dance of death, the red haired and wild eyed dwarf let his hammer loose with a fury of ten storms. Skulls crushed and shields bending under the weight of the relentless blows. Calling upon the light, the Paladin forged his way through the mass of frail bodies of the scourge. He was surrounded by a faint light that resembled an angel’s wings. Everywhere that hammer flew, death followed it. The men fell in behind the Dwarven Paladin and began to follow his song. It was then that it dawned on me, that the battle mad Paladin was singing a battle hymn over the harsh sounds of bone shattering and blood sloshing. It seemed to awaken the spirit inside of the other soldiers. Together this small force dove through piles of writhing corpses of scourge.

Then the crystal began to pulse brighter and faster, as four glowing shapes descended from the floating aberration above. As they descended a beam of twisted light shooting from their stiff bodies touched the crystals light and pulsed even brighter. “The Crystal is charging them with more Power! Go Lads! Sever them from their source!” the angry Dwarf Paladin shouted over the eerie pulsing.

Minutes passed, minutes seemed like hours, hours like days. The landscape littered with the dead and the wounded. The smell of blood mingled with the smell of rotted scourge was enough to turn most stomachs afoul. The Dwarf stood atop the toppled Crystal that had all but gone clear, its power no longer pulsing. Wringing the blood from his braided beard that fell near to his knees, he raised his hammer above his head. The soldiers cheers could be heard for miles, as the Paladins face grew grim. “This is nae over lads. The Lich King is tenacious in his efforts to end this world. Tadae was a good victory for th’ Alliance. On the morrow, we will be bloodied again. Go to yer homes and hold yer bairns and love your wives. We go to battle again on morrows eve.”

Silence then covered the mass of soldiers like a soft blanket as the Paladins words struck home. Then, slowly, they all began to make preparations to march back towards Dun Morogh. Thorongoral was the last man on the battlefield. His stoic eyes taking in the scene with a grim expression painted on his face. He slowly reaches for his hammer that hung limp at his side. Carefully, with his hunting knife, he scraped a notch in line with many other notches on the long wooden handle. Swearing a solemn oath, nearly under his breath, but in my earshot nonetheless Thorongoral spoke. “Soon Arthas, soon….” He then turned towards his Stormpike Battle Charger and mounted as his eyes made contact with mine. I will never forget that look he wore on his weary face. He had warned me that I would most likely not survive the fight. He told me, “I know how important histories are, an’ they should be written. But this war will have no place for a younglin’ scribe lad!” As if thinking about those very words, he gave me a quick sheepish grin and nodded at me. Then he galloped away towards the mountains.

I never had the pleasure of meeting him again, this Thorongoral, but I know that he was headed for a great future. He was a dwarf with passion and purpose. His enemies will know his name well.

~Corwin Baxter, Scribe


Though the Alliance was never able to regain control of the once valuable city of Andorhal. Many other attempts were made by many factions to control the city, but failed. The city is now over run with Scourge under the command of a Lich, Araj the Summoner and to this day still remains under his control.

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