Illiyana’s mount yowled and pulled back sharply. Blood seeping from the wound above its throat, the animal writhed in agony.
The scout was tossed toward the corpse of the other cat. Illiyana struck the heavy body hard, then rolled over.
Su’ura had not waited all this time. She had risen to a crouching position, trying to determine not where to flee but how to help Illiyana battle Garrosh. Now she instead had to rescue her rescuer.
Although badly wounded by the warchief’s daring attack, the trained nightsaber returned to the struggle. Su’ura used the animal’s bravery to help Illiyana up.
“That . . . did not work . . . as I planned,” the other night elf gasped.
“How are you?”
Illiyana grimaced. “I think my left arm is either broken or perhaps just pulled.”
“Then we had better hurry away from here.”
“I can fight—”
“No argument! We are behind the line now! We have got to get back to the rest!”
The horrific wail of Garrosh’s axe cut through the air again. It was followed by an angry and pained roar from the nightsaber. Su’ura did not look back. She regretted the cat’s sacrifice but had no choice. To stay would be suicide for both fighters.
Several yards to the west, she saw some of the defenders again regrouping, but farther to the east the situation grew more and more desperate. There, individual Sentinels, cut off from hope, fought against one or more foes, odds too often quickly fatal. Su’ura watched in horror as an orc lopped off the head of one of her officers. The body of the Sentinel staggered a few steps before finally collapsing. Elsewhere, severed limbs marked the dooms of other night elves. Now and then, a glaive would go spinning past, but those signs of resistance grew less and less with each passing second.
Su’ura and Illiyana had managed to get within a few yards of a small party of archers when Su’ura sensed that they were not alone. With regret, she shoved Illiyana toward the other defenders, hoping that the other night elf’s reflexes were still sharp enough to compensate for the sudden loss of the commander’s help.
Su’ura barely got her weapon up in time to prevent an older orc with an eye patch and covered in maritime tattoos from cleaving her in two with his heavy axe. He was no Garrosh, but his experience and sheer determination put her on the defensive from the first moment.
“I’ll make this quick,” he rasped. “You wouldn’t want to be around when he unleashes them, anyway. . . .”
She had no idea what he was talking about and did not care. What concerned Su’ura more was that the leg that had been trapped under the dead nightsaber was now tingling. It had been injured, after all, and now that injury was causing problems with her balance.
The night elf followed Garrosh’s trick, suddenly lunging into her opponent when he would have expected otherwise. The startled orc backed away. Su’ura slashed with the axe, but managed only a thin red line across his arm.
An arrow from behind her struck the ground between them. Another bounced off the orc’s shoulder armor.
The green-skinned warrior snarled, then withdrew as two more arrows harassed him.
Two Sentinels seized Su’ura and pulled her back to the archers. As they did, the commander heard the buzzing of a shredder. Some of the goblins had managed to get their foul mechanisms on their feet again and were tearing apart what the falling trees had not already destroyed.
Su’ura smelled fire. The main building was ablaze, whether by the goblins or some other source, she did not know. She considered taking a chance and rushing into it to retrieve some of the valuable charts stored there, but knew that it was too late to do anything.
The terrible wail echoed in her ears again. Garrosh, his weapon dripping with blood, yelled an unintelligible command to his warriors. Even the goblins moved in response, the shredders forming a line, then stopping.
“They—they are within range!” Illiyana was incredulous. “Are they committing suicide?”
“It does not matter! Archers, fire at will! I want every glaive flying too!”
More and more of Silverwing’s survivors gathered. Su’ura saw that the Sentinels still had a fairly decent line of defense. True, they looked to be outnumbered, but that would not be the first time.
Yet, as the first archers readied their shots, again a horn sounded. The archers hesitated.
“Do not wait!” cursed Su’ura.
A monstrous roar burst from the goblin-induced mist.
Something came flying out of the forest. A huge projectile. A rock several times Su’ura’s height in diameter.
It was followed by five more.
She faced what seemed a variation of the same nightmare that had initially struck the outpost. With much the same accuracy of aim, the huge rocks fell upon Silverwing.
There was no choice but to scatter. The final stand of the Silverwing Sentinels collapsed under threat of a force that they could not stop.
The first huge rock struck the ground just before where the archers had stood. As with the massive trunks, the area shook as if the Cataclysm had come anew. However, the rocks—more focused missiles—raised up huge bits of dirt and stone that bombarded the night elves. A Sentinel near Illiyana dropped dead, her skull caved in by one sharp fragment. Two archers were brought down by a rain of earth.
Silverwing filled with thunder as the rest of the boulders hit. Sentinels went flying through the air. Two other boulders completely obliterated the glaive throwers and their operators. Nightsabers, driven wild by the catastrophe, ignored their riders’ orders.
The Horde wasted no time in taking advantage. Garrosh let out a cry of victory, waved the wailing axe, and led the charge himself. A few Sentinels, bowled over by the latest barrage, struggled to rise quick enough to at least put up a defense against the oncoming enemy. They gave a good accounting for themselves, managing to bring more than a few orcs down with their glaives and swords, but none survived long against such overwhelming odds.
Illiyana was the first to state the terribly obvious. “We cannot stay any longer! We must abandon our position!”
Although she wanted to deny what her companion said, Su’ura could not. The Sentinels’ numbers were fast dwindling. Several of those still alive were wounded, and against the growing ranks of orcs entering the battle, it would have been murder to order them to stay.
“Fall back!” Su’ura called. “We make our way beyond the river to Commander Haldrissa!”
Clearly reluctant, the Sentinels nevertheless obeyed. They gathered those more injured and, under the protective cover of the healthiest archers and warriors, did what none would have ever thought could happen. They abandoned Silverwing Outpost.
The orcs gave chase. To Su’ura’s relief, there were no orcs mounted on wolves among them. Furthermore, the few nightsabers still manageable helped carry the wounded Sentinels while the rest kept pace as best as possible. Night elves were better built for speed, and finally the pursuers fell behind. Even then, though, Silverwing’s remnants pushed on as hard as they could. The others had to be warned.
Su’ura knew that something was not quite right about their escape, but was too exhausted and too busy trying to keep the rest of the survivors together to consider the matter. Her injuries were taking their toll and only with Illiyana’s aid could she keep moving. Su’ura glanced at her companion and saw that the other night elf also seemed troubled. While certainly not easy, the defenders’ flight should have been much, much harder.
However, there was nothing they could do but keep moving and hope that they had, indeed, managed to evade their pursuers. The survivors had to reach Commander Haldrissa.
She peered over her shoulder. Smoke rose from the outpost. The goblins’ mist had finally faded to nothing this far west and so she had a good view of the black plumes rising over the trees.