Warcraft belongs to Blizzard

Fate Stay Night belongs to Type Moon

Warning! This is more of a spin off instead of a direct cross with modern day Fate/ Stay Night.

Shout out to Cheeser who work through this even while he had a brush fire to worry about in his area! Wayfarer for pointing out obvious mistakes I missed and keeping my on my toes! Finally sirrah xbox who literally can only work toward the night time after a 12 hour shift on this fic! I thank you all! Happy Holidays!

Chapter 4

May Elune forever guide your path, Arturia Pendragon.

Thank you, Tyrande Whisperwind.

**** Eastern Kingdom, Duskwood, Darkshire ****

Althea Ebonlocke, commander of the Darkshire militia Night Watch, was not the only one that noticed the change in town. To be a citizen of Darkshire was to be subjected to the dark, oppressing atmosphere, constantly bombarded by Worgen, undead, vile insects, and Ogres to the south. It was commonly believed that Duskwood was a cursed land. The forest of Sunnyglade, once verdant and vibrant, had taken on a dark hue, accentuated by perpetual darkness that covered their lands. Here in Duskwood, the sun had not shone for over ten years. It was something she had resigned to always live with. This was her home, and she would not be scared away by darkness.

However, something was changing in Duskwood, and it was beginning to spark hope in its citizens.

"I don't believe it. It's even brighter today..." Watcher Keefa observed, looking around the town.

"It makes no sense..." Hogan Ference, their loyal mage whispered.

There were mutterings whispered all throughout the town over the most recent occurrence.

Althea could not help but agree. She took in her surroundings once more and felt hope rising within her. For the past week, the perpetual sense of gloom, the shroud of darkness that hung all over their lands had dissipated. Instead, their town, forests, and entire patrol area was beginning to become brighter. The undead and Worgen in the area had been weakened by the sudden appearance of sunlight and had not been causing as much trouble as before. It was as if someone had broken the curse on Duskwood. It was then she noticed one of her Night Watchmen heading toward her with an alarmed look on his face.

"Commander!" Watcher Brownell, a man in his late thirties, rode into town and gained his superior's attention. "An army approaches!"

Immediately, Althea nodded for the Night Watch to be ready. Judging by Brownell's demeanor, it wasn't a hostile force. Perhaps Stormwind had finally decided to send the aid that her people had requested for so long? Flanked by two of her Lieutenants, she walked out to greet the army only to be surprised that they had stopped respectfully at the entrance to her town.

Upon inspection, Althea saw the banners of Stormwind fluttering proudly in the wind. They had asked Stormwind for aid for years, but never for more than a few hundred soldiers. Their requests had always been ignored and, any attempt to petition the King directly was outmaneuvered with bureaucratic action from the House of Nobles. When the King went missing, it became even harder to get any support from the capital. Now even with the King returned, their request for aid still went unanswered. The people of Duskwood were beginning to lose faith in Stormwind, their mindset was beginning to focus on their own survival.

Now, before her, was a gathering of forces she never thought she'd see for their township. If she had to make an educated guess, she would put their numbers roughly around three to four thousand. Surprisingly enough there appeared to be Blood Elves in their company, no more than a few dozen.

As Althea approached the commander of the army before her, a knight in black dismounted and met her on foot. There was something about the armor that tickled at her memory. She was certain the armor was foreign, but the lion crest on the shoulder signified their allegiance to Stormwind.

"I am Commander Althea Ebonlocke of the Night Watch," she began politely. "I am glad that Stormwind finally decided to send the aide we had requested."

To all assembled the Commander of the Stormwind force stopped in front of her and took off his helmet. There were gasps from either side of her as the two female watchers gazed upon the knight's face. Even Althea felt her face grow hot as she took in the handsome visage before her. The knight in question gave her a courtly bow that would put the noblest in Stormwind to shame before taking her hand into his and lightly brushed his lips against the back of her hand. She felt her face redden further at the gesture.

"Well met Commander Althea Ebonlocke," the handsome knight said with a smile. "I am Lancelot De Luc, second in command of the Lioness' Pride."

The living legend's introduction stunned the Night Watch militia. All in the Kingdom of Stormwind had heard of the return of the Lioness' Pride but many assumed they were being kept barracked by King Varian at the capital. Why were they here? As if in answer to their unspoken question, several wagons full of crates were wheeled into the town.

"Highlord Arturia has heard of your plight," Lancelot declared loudly for all to hear as they looked upon the handsome knight. "And has ordered me to assist you until she arrives."

With a nod, the soldiers started to unload the crates from the wagons.

"What're inside the crates?" Althea asked the legendary knight demurely. She wanted to slap herself. She was Commander of the Night Watch! She shouldn't be acting like an infatuated little girl! And yet, that roguish smile that he sent her way caused her heart to flutter as the footmen slowly pried the lid off one of the crates.

Althea and the other Night Watch members gasped as they looked inside. It contained weapons, high quality weapons. Swords, bows, cross bows, shields, all far superior to the ones they had crafted themselves.

"We know that Stormwind has not... defended you as she should have," Lancelot said darkly before smiling again. "We aim to rectify that mistake."

"But... you were recently returned, how could you make so much in such a short time?" Althea inquired as she looked at the dozens of wagons moving into the town, loaded with more wooden crates.

"They were in Karazhan's Armory," Lancelot answered, making the pretty commander before him widen her eyes in shock. "Oh yes, the mages have repaired the ley lines inside Karazhan, I believe 'Duskwood' will become Sunnyglade within the year again, if not sooner."

Althea Ebonlocke, Commander of the Night Watch, jaw dropped at the declaration. They had always suspected that their vicinity to Karazhan had been the cause of the darkness over their woods, but to hear that the problem had been solved, she did not even know what to think anymore. She dared not hope, but it was Lancelot that grabbed her attention again as they watched the Lioness' army start to pass out armor and weapons.

"Come Commander, we have much work to do. Now, you have a wolf and Ogre problem I believe?"

"And spiders," Althea corrected as she watched her soldiers gather around the wagons to be armed.

"Spiders?" Commander Lancelot asked as he stopped mid-stride as he gave the Commander of Darkshire a hard look. "These... spiders wouldn't happen to be as big as horses would they?"

Taken aback by the look, Althea nodded mutely and blinked curiously as her childhood romantic figure started cursing up a storm.

**** Eastern Kingdom, Pendragon Holdings, Stratholme Harbor***

The first thing Saber noticed about Stratholme was how big it was compared to Stormwind. While Stormwind was efficient and utilitarian in its space, there seemed to be opulence about the city before her. Though here and there she could spot broken and ruined buildings, reminders from the Third War.

The second thing she noted was the bee hive of activity that surrounded the harbor. Focusing her sight, Saber could make out hundreds of soldiers in red armor loading into transport ships. Off the coast, she counted no less than thirty ships, of which five of them were significantly larger than the others.

"Guardian Bedivere, an attack group is headed this way!" a Night Elf Sentinel shouted from the top of her bird nest.

Bedivere Lakesong, former Guardian of Elune's Sacred Sword and now knight to Arturia Pendragon, used her enhanced sight and saw Mordred's ships moving to intercept them. "Battle formation and ready the Glaives but do not fire!"

With the efficiency only hundreds of years of practice could result in, Hippogryph riders took to the air, while druids took on the form of birds and hid behind their air riders even as their ships turned and exposed their side at the incoming ships to better fire the maximum amount of their tri-star siege weaponry.

"Mother, you're in charge while I go parlay with the Scarlet's," Bedivere spoke and saw her mother nod at her orders. "Highlord, by your leave."

Saber merely nodded as her knight transformed into a purple bird and flew toward the red bannered ships.

"We will be ready, Highlord Arturia," Malyesh the former Captain of Nighthaven spoke to the smaller blonde.

Saber shook her head, she was almost certain that it was just a precaution. After all, suddenly showing up with a fleet of twenty Night Elf ships would definitely make people concerned. She found herself mildly surprised by the events. She had set out seeking Excalibur, but when the Guardians of Excalibur had wanted to come along, it had been understandable. The fact that their family wanted to come as well was remarkable.

But it was Bedivere's mother, who had resigned her post at Nighthaven to follow her daughter that surprised even Bedivere herself. Saber realized that Malyesh must have been a beloved leader as no sooner had she resigned from her post did half of Night Haven's standing forces also resign. Officially, they were coming along as civilians and families of the Guardians. Now Saber had a little over five thousand Night Elves who had pledged themselves to her service. Adding that to the two thousand Gawain had recalled from Outland, her forces had swelled to twenty seven thousand.

"She returns Highlord," Malyesh announced, her eyes never leaving the deck of the Scarlet ship her daughter had landed on.

Saber tracked Bedivere's bird form flying from the Scarlet's ships in the distance back toward her. With a graceful dive toward the deck, the bird transformed back into her knight. "What news do you bring, Bedivere?"

Bedivere frowned but gave her report. "It is, as we suspected, just a misunderstanding. They had been expecting you, Your Ma- Highlord Arturia but did not realize you would be coming with a small Night Elven fleet."

"And the activity on the harbor?" Saber prompted. As she looked on, more escort ships and a few larger battleships pulled out to sea. She noticed Bedivere' expression grew more concerned.

"Tyr's Hand in the south of Pendragon's Holdings is under a Scourge assault." Bedivere reported and looked at her king. "Mordred rode south earlier to bring reinforcement to their forces. But she could only bring a strike force of a few thousand on horse. The armada planned on cutting through Quel Thalas' controlled sea to land a larger force on the eastern coast of Tyr's hand. Hence they are assembling such a large naval force."

Saber saw Malyesh bare her fangs at the mention of the Scourge. The Scourge had caused severe damage to the Night Elves lands in conjunction with the Burning Legion. Thankfully, the Night Elf Druids had cleansed most of the blighted land.

"They were told to escort you to Pendragon's Keep and give you every accommodation by Mordred before she left," Bedivere said in some amazement. She had heard rumors of the Red King, but to find out that it was Mordred of all people had been a shock. Unlike Gawain, who only felt hatred for Mordred, Bedivere had served with the knight and had grown fond of him. He was a good knight, a bit reckless occasionally, but had always served honorably. That everything happened the way it did was a tragedy in her eyes. To think that Mordred now claimed dominion over such a large area and named it after Arturia only proved to Bedivere how much the 'son' still loved her father.

Saber was in deep thought. She knew that Mordred, while capable, was not the King Camelot had needed. However, it appeared that the Mordred of old had been tempered. To ride south first to blunt their attack while gathering a larger army behind the expeditionary force, that showed Saber that Mordred had planned things unlike before, she was all but certain that the rebellion leader had not thought of anything past taking the crown. That was why she could not allow Mordred to win the throne. No matter the cost. Still could Mordred have truly changed so much? She needed to see this for herself.

"I am going to go lend aid to Mordred. Inform them I wish to transfer ships and join the fleet they are assembling," Saber said as she looked at the gathered fleet of ships in the distance.

"I don't think so, Highlord Arturia," Bedivere answered, shocking the King with her defiance. "Have you forgotten? We will follow you wherever you go."

"I can't ask you to follow me into a battlefield with civilians," Saber countered, recovering from the refusal. Bedivere had always been her most staunch follower, doing whatever she had ordered without question. To be denied so was a bit jarring, and she could not recall if there was ever a time Bedivere ever refused her order.

"Highlord, I assure you, they are civilians in names only, we are a long lived race. Trust me, we can fight," Bedivere informed her King. No doubt her King was thinking in Human terms, but the only reason why a Night Elf would become a civilian was because they were tired of fighting or taking a vacation from fighting.

"It is true Highlord, most Elves are trained from a young age. The Quel Dorei usually engage in hedonistic pleasure to take a break from the monotony of a soldier's life," Gawain chimed in. He had been unusually silent on the deck, mainly due to being outnumbered on the ship. After all, he was the only male here. He figured the less attention he drew to himself the better.

"Oh do you now, Gawain?" Bedivere raised an eyebrow and looked at her High Elf companion with an amused smirk.

Gawain was confused at first as to why Bedivere was smirking before he realized what she was implying. "What? No! I never engaged in such practices!" he sputtered while looking beseechingly at his King.

Saber had been in the middle of trying to picture a hedonist Gawain and found it very hard to do so. Giving up on the task, she noticed the disappointment from her knight's two female High Elf companions and realized that Gawain would probably never participate in such activities.

"Bedivere..." Saber coughed at the amusing interaction, before realizing she rarely enjoyed herself with her knights like this.

Bedivere nodded and turned to Gawain, patting him on the shoulder before leaning in and whispering.

"Well, I suggest you start. Your two lovely companions don't seem averse to repopulating your race."

Saber blinked as she saw an extremely red-faced Gawain sputtering some sort of denial while Bedivere laughed.

++++ Pendragon's Holding, Tyr's Hand ++++

Mordred once again cursed the fact that she diverted the forces that kept the Argent Dawn in check into the western part of Lordaeron, formerly called the Western Plaguelands, for the Cenarion Circle. However because she did so it had left Tyr's Hand without significant reinforcement. Not to say that Tyr's hand was lightly defended. Havenshire and New Avalon were heavily fortified and would be able to rebuff anything short of a serious offensive by the Scourge.

An offensive that the Scourge had apparently launched.

Once more Mordred cursed herself, she was certain her father would have never made such a mistake. Looking up in the sky she saw a Scourge Necropolis hanging over the village forts of the Scarlet Enclave, their flying horrors already filling the sky battling her Gryphon riders. She had passed Havenshire to find it in ruins. Doubling her pace she hoped that the Fortress of New Avalon would be able to hold out.

It had taken her several days but she finally arrived with significant reinforcements, including powerful Gnomish siege engines. Unlike the Human built ballista that fired a large spear that exploded and killed anything in the immediate area. The Gnomes had constructed a large vehicle with a massive cannon barrel mounted on its head designed specifically to take down fortress walls and deal with flying units with its smaller mounted guns. Its weakness, of course, was its lack of mobility and rate of fire which made it vulnerable to a ground assault.

"Tinkerer Razzlefink, how soon before the siege machines can get into position and start assaulting the Necropolis?" Mordred asked a Gnome engineer in charge of operating the machines.

"Ten minutes, Your Majesty," the blue haired gnome replied. Seeing the girl nod, he turned around and started to bark orders.

"Taelan, signal our aerial force to set up a buffer screen from this position, we will relieve the New Avalon defenders. Whitemane, Herod, you two are with me," Mordred ordered as she rode with her five thousand knights, comprised mostly of her Royal Guards, toward the fortress town.

Already in front of the town, they could see a vast army of undead ghouls, abominations, and giests trying to climb the wall of the beleaguered defenders. Mordred felt a swell of pride to see her citizens fight the Scourge on their battlement walls, not giving into despair.

Overhead Mordred could make out gargoyles swooping down onto the defenders inside the fortress. From the gunshots she heard, the defenders were not taking too kindly to the invasion.

"Sound the horn and let them know I am here! For LORDAERON!" Mordred roared as the front line of her cavalry leveled their holy enchanted spears and charged. Behind her, Mordred heard the blare of a war horn followed by hundreds of shouts. The Scourge paused when they heard the sound and turned around just in time to see her army bear down on them.

From atop the battlement walls, the defenders of New Avalon cheered at the arrival of their King.

"FOR LORDAERON! FOR THE KING!" the men and women of the New Lordaeron army answered in reply as they smashed into the undead forces.

The undead, as if directed, turned toward the new arrivals and attacked them instead.

There was a thundering sound as Mordred's forces smashed into that of the Scourge mowing down thousands of undead within seconds. However the dead were numerous and despite the initial loss the Scourge forces incurred, they still had more. With the Pendragon forces' momentum tapering off, the undead swarmed toward the new attackers.

"Close ranks!" Mordred shouted as she pulled Clarent from its scabbard and cut down the giest that jumped toward her. "Destroy the Scourge FILTH!"

As one her forces shouted in agreement as they battled the Scourge with a viciousness they never thought to use upon the living.

"RAGGGHH!" A large abomination bellowed as it took the massive cleaver in its hand and brutally cut down several knights from their horses. While the holy enchanted weapons burned the sewn together walking corpse, it still continued to move, wreaking havoc amongst Mordred's ranks.

It was then, Herod, one of Mordred's most ferocious Lieutenant's leaped from his horse and brought his axe down on the abomination's head, severing it cleanly. The Abomination, without a functioning brain, toppled backward onto its own forces. Herod, however, was not done, in full berserker rage now, he unleashed a whirlwind of destruction amongst the Scourge forces and destroyed all who dared challenge him.

In contrast to Herod, Mordred was trying NOT to give into her berserker rage herself. She had to fight controlled and steady, like her father. She was a KING now; she couldn't give over to battle lust no matter how tempting. With careful, controlled strikes she beheaded the ghouls in her vicinity even as she rode toward the group of necromancers trying to raise more skeletal warriors from the dead. She saw the panic in the necromancer's eyes as she destroyed all the undead in her way before she reached the head necromancer in charge.

The necromancer in question eyes lit up fanatically as he stared at the new King of Lordaeron. "As the Lich King predicted! Your reign ends today false King! You will b-urk!"

Having heard enough, Mordred split the Necromancer in half from head on downward. This was a trap, this was Arthas trap for her. "Whitemane! Send the signal now!"

The High Priestess of Lordaeron, encased in a pillar of light that burnt all the undead who got close to her, heard her King's order and fired a ball of light into the air.

No sooner had Whitemane's light soared into the sky then the sound of thundering cannons answered. Dozens of man-sized boulder-cannon balls fired from Taelan's position and smashed into the undead Necropolis hanging over New Avalon. As if in reply the gargoyles that had been hovering protectively around the undead citadel flew in mass toward the point of attack.

Immediately they were met by the gryphon riders of Pendragon Hold. However, that was not the only counter attack as the crystal on top of the Necropolis started glowing a sickly green before firing down onto the ground forces, killing men, horses and destroyed several siege engines.

"We have ten minutes before the next charge!" Whitemane shouted as she pointed at the Necropolis. The attack was powerful but the people of Lordaeron found out long ago that it required time to gather sufficient energy.

"Push onto New Avalon! Give them time to regroup!" Mordred shouted and her forces replied by fighting with fanatical vigor. This was what the Scarlet Crusade's original purpose was for after all, to kill the undead.

As the battle raged all around her, Mordred contemplated unleashing Clarent Blood Arthur again. But to do so, she had to enter a berserker state which would compromise her position as leader. Yet another thing she had fallen short of when compared to her father she noted with a grim look.

When she unleashed the hatred onto the Scourge Necropolis over Stratholme, it was in a desperate bid to win. The forces there were stronger than she had anticipated. Her men were being killed and raised anew. At the time defeat was almost inevitable. Feeling the weight of failure on her, Mordred let herself go and entered her berserker frenzy; no undead stood against her as she destroyed one after another. Then at the height of her hatred she fired Clarent Blood Arthur, the price of failure, the love for her father, the hatred of her father, she channeled it all and struck down the Necropolis. They applauded her for that victory but they did not realize how close she had come to defeat. Shaking her head of such thoughts, she gazed at the battlefield.

At the moment, the battle was in a stalemate; her knights had halted the undead attack, though she could see they were still falling. The pressure from New Avalon had been lifted and even now, she could see the marksmen on the battlements assisting the ground forces outside the wall by firing into the Scourge forces. They just needed to hold out a bit longer; Abbendis was on her way with the fleet and should be arriving anytime now. She had to remain focused; she couldn't leave her forces leaderless just to land a strike. That was her duty as a King. So Mordred fought on.

After ten minutes had passed, the Pendragon forces braced themselves for another attack from the Necropolis. An attack that did not come as a beam of green light fired from the underside of the floating fortress onto the land, blighting it immediately. The soldiers closest to the light raised their shields up to cover their faces from the wind washing out from the point of impact.

It was then a spear flew out and skewered the footman closest to the beam.

"What in the Light name?" The footman next to his skewered comrade exclaimed before a sickly green coil of light shot out and struck him down.

The Pendragon Forces closest to the light backed away hurriedly as figures cloaked in the blackest of armor road out on skeletal steeds. Their hands armed with corrupted rune weapons, their free hands lifted up and started firing coils of death into the Scarlet's army killing many instantly.

Herod saw the black armored figures and his face grew alarmed. "Death Knights!" he shouted in warning. As the champions of the Lich King rode out of the green light by the hundreds.

Immediately, there was a sense of fear among Mordred's army, Scourge units were one thing but the Death Knights were something else entirely. They were the strongest soldiers that had been taken and corrupted by the Lich King. Among their ranks, people could make out Orcs, Trolls, Gnomes, Dwarves, Humans, and all the other assorted races riding toward Mordred's army.

"Death comes for you all!" an Orc Death Knight taunted gleefully as he used his axe on the living soldiers.

"Do not be afraid!" Mordred reprimanded her wavering forces as she charged head first and attacked the closest Death Knight, a tall Troll.

The Death Knight, while skilled, was surprised by the blonde's ferocity. Her strikes were stronger than he anticipated and before he knew it, his arm was separated from his shoulder. "Wha-urgghh."

Mordred pulled Clarent out from the now dead knight's mouth as she stomped on his head to destroy the brain. "Who's next?" she growled as a Blood Elf Death Knight attacked her only to also be killed.

The sight of their King killing Death Knight after Death Knight heartened the men as they began to fight back with renewed vigor. "FOR THE KING!" the soldiers yelled as a battle cry.

"FALSE KING!"

Where moments before the soldiers were renewed in their spirits, the cold deadly voice cut through their ranks. Even their King was not immune as she looked around for the voice. From behind the green pillar the latest figure emerged. The unholy aura he radiated was unnerving.

However, what made many pull back in shock was the weapon the Death Knight was wielding. It was the once famed Ashbringer, the sword of the holy light. It now radiated a sickly green aura, a clear sign of Scourge corruption.

The newly arrived Death Knight was none other than Darion Mograine, son of the Ashbringer and leader of the Ebon Blade, the Lich King's elite Death Knight army.

"Greetings, betrothed," Highlord Darion Mograine greeted his one-time fiancée mockingly. In his right hand was the Corrupted Ashbringer, held casually as he stalked toward the false King.

"So the rumor was true, Arthas corrupted you after all," Mordred replied, clear distaste in her tone. Her stance was battle ready.

"Corrupted?" Darion's inhuman voice rang out incredulously before letting out a hearty laugh. "It was liberation!"

"You keep telling yourself that," Mordred said darkly as she signaled her forces to start moving toward New Avalon's gates. The undead that had assaulted the fort were all but broken, the stragglers had fled toward the newly arrived Death Knights.

"You do not understand yet, but you will," Darion sinister tone promised. "Then we will be together even in undeath."

"Somehow I find that hard to believe," Mordred snorted derisively as she trailed her eyes up and down Darion's body. "I am pretty sure you are dead, in more ways than one."

The insult was not lost on the Lich King's champion as his aura became even more oppressive. "You have a clever tongue, bitch, I'll make sure to cut it out before I present your corpse to the Lich King."

"DARION! GET AWAY FROM HER!"

Darion Mograine turned to the new voice and had to laugh out loud in amusement. There, bathed in pure light, was Taelan Fordring, his silver hammer at the ready as he stalked toward the Death Knights. As he made his way towards Darion, a goblin Death Knight used his agility and leaped at the paladin. Quicker than the Goblin could react, Taelan grabbed the Goblin by its hand and infused it with Holy Light.

"ARRGHHH!" the Goblin Death Knight writhed in agony as Holy Light poured out from his once icy blue eyes.

Taelan dropped the corpse of the charred Goblin and continued to stalk forward, behind him were hundreds of other Silverhand Paladins all channeling the Holy Light.

"How interesting," the Leader of the Ebon Blade said in an amused tone. "But do you think this was all the Lich King gave us?"

As if by some unseen signal two more Necropoli materialized over New Avalon and almost immediately, undead poured forth from its walls. One directly into the Fortress, while the other onto the defenders outside its walls. Devastatingly, the two Necropolis fired directly at where the siege engines were located, destroying over half of them.

"By the Light!" Whitemane gasped as thousands upon thousands of undead began to swarm the area. Channeling the Light like never before, she closed ranks with the army even as she continuously burned the oncoming undead.

"The Lich King really wanted you dead, my betrothed," Darion cruelly gloated at Mordred as the undead army began to encircle her defenders. He inwardly smirked as he saw the expression on the approaching Taelan face.

"Over my dead body!" Taelan growled as he and his Silverhand Paladins charged the Death Knights.

"You've been keeping her bed warm, I presume?" Darion gloated as he moved away from Mordred and charged at Taelan Fordring.

Mordred blinked at the disrespect shown to her by her ex-fiancée and was about to attack when an even more sinister presence made itself known. In the sky were creatures that looked like Valkyries from Norse legends. The ethereal women with wings swooped down close to her.

Getting into a guard position, she saw the flying women hover near her and open a portal.

Impossible as it may have been, the immediate area temperature dropped noticeably and from the opened portal, a horrible presence made itself known. Clad in black armor much like the Death Knights, the figure had a spiked crown on his head and a demonic rune blade in his right hand.

The Lich King had entered the battlefield and his mere presence had a visible effect on the living present. This was the being that broke the old Alliance of Lordaeron, that sacked Dalaran, that culled Stratholme. In so short of a time his mere name was considered taboo amongst the living.

Not so for the new King of Lordaeron whose eyes only held contempt for the undead King.

"Arthas..." Mordred growled under her breath and channeled her prana.

"Mordred," Arthas' voice boomed for all to hear. "Your reign ends today."

"End it if you can," Mordred dared to proclaim as she willingly gave herself over to her berserker state. Anything less against the Lich King would result in death.

With a savage cry, Mordred attacked the Lich King.

The Lich King wordlessly matched her ferocity and pushed her back with even faster strikes.

The clank of steel from the two blades rang out over and over again. To Arthas' frustration, the girl's defense was solid though his strength was superior, as evident whenever she brace herself against his strikes. While she was quick and not without strength, he knew his victory was inevitable. After all, no one escapes death.

With a violent clash he met Mordred's overhead strike with his great strength and hurled her away from him before summoning his dark necrotic powers and covered himself with it to form a deadly aura that would damage any near him.

Mordred cleared her mind momentarily from the brief reprieve and came to a conclusion. She needed Clarent Blood Arthur, but there was no way Arthas would let her have enough time to channel it. She could barely fend him off as it was, taking a quick look around; she saw Whitemane and Herod fighting desperately to stem the undead advance. She saw less and less of her forces on the field, being overwhelmed by sheer numbers. She was relieved to see Taelan locked in combat with Darion, alive, the two battling close by, before she refocused on Arthas as he finished filling the area with some black circles on the ground, most likely in an effort to restrict her movement.

"Now then, let's continue, shall we?" Arthas goaded and was coiled ready to strike when a massive explosion rocked one of the floating Necropolis making the Lich King turn his head in surprised. "What?"

It was then seven more golden stars were seen in the sky, falling down on the battlefield. Closer and closer it came, until many could make out that it was a golden orb of light. It was then the first of the orbs struck the undead and living forces. There was a massive detonation of golden energy that healed the defenders and instantly killed the weaker ghouls and giest. The Nerubian spiders, the Abomination, and even the Necromancers' skin could be seen burning. Seconds later the rest of the orbs landed all over the battlefield, saturating the area in the comforting light. Even the Death Knights suffered as many died from being at the center of an impact.

"Hah, did you think I have forgotten who I was dealing with?" Mordred gloated as more orbs were flung onto the battlefield and against the Necropoli, of which one was already falling. "I am always prepared to face you and your Scourge, Arthas!"

"You bitch!" Arthas cursed as an orb was lobbed right on top of him. The attack was painful, it was as if bombs made of Holy Light were being dropped on top of his forces. It no where near as powerful like the attack that was used against him in Stormwind but it was effective none the less.

No matter. He mentally diverted his flying forces to seek out the origin of those that were lobbing these holy bombs and end them. Just as he was about to attack Mordred, his battle instinct made him retreat suddenly. In a flash, another figure created a crater where he had been standing moments before from a single strike.

"You..."

"Me," Arturia Pendragon, known as Saber during the Holy Grail War agreed and now coined the Lioness of Stormwind, acknowledged. Looking behind her, she saw that Mordred was a bit roughed up but otherwise unharmed. Already she had coated Excalibur in Invisible Air.

"Arturia Pendragon," Arthas breathed out as he was able to view the two sisters side by side.

"Arthas Menethil," Saber replied as she kept her invisible sword in front of her. She tensed, ready to attack when the Lich King started to laugh.

"I had not recognized you back then... truly, you are as magnificent as Varian said," Arthas commented to the still guarded girl. Looking back between the two Arthas could not help but notice the difference between Arturia and her sister. It was some kind of intangible glory Arturia had that Mordred did not. Glory that could serve the Scourge if properly harnessed. He would make that glory his, but not today.

"My Lady," Arthas gave a courtly bow and mentally commanded his forces to withdraw. His Val'kry opened a portal back to Northrend for him as he retreated. Even the floating Necropoli started to fade, as if being summoned elsewhere.

Highlord Darion Mograine received his master's order and pushed Taelan away from him. "Next time, I'll take her back with me," he taunted the Commander of Mordred's forces as he swiftly retreated through a Val'kyr made portal.

"You will never lay a hand on her, I swear it," Taelan promised softly to himself. Looking around, he noted that there was still a sizable amount Scourge forces left intact. Before he could give the order to form up, star-shaped bolts fell from the sky like rain, destroying the remaining forces. Looking toward the harbor, he saw the Crimson Fleet with what looked like Night Elven Destroyers mingling together. In fact, there was a sizable Night Elf force making their way to shore. It was then he heard the cawing of what he thought was crows only to realize it was not any crow he had ever seen before. There must have been fifty of them that landed on the field before transforming back into Night Elves.

Druids.

Taelen was surprised and wondered if the Cenarion Circle had sent aide? No matter, he turned to check on his King only to do a double take when he thought his vision was playing a trick on him.

There standing face to face with each other, was Arturia and Mordred Pendragon. The scene would forever burned in his mind. Amidst the chaos, standing across from each other, facing one another were the two sisters who could not have been more alike yet different. One clad in red, covered in runic enchanted dull gray plate armor, while the other was dressed in blue, armored in silver plate directly contrasting the one in red.

The Druids had arrived and appeared to take a protective position around Highlord Arturia, while Herod, Whitemane and the remaining royal guards gathered to their King.

It was uncanny how the two sisters looked so much alike despite being years apart. However there were differences, Mordred was almost a full head taller than her sister, with more... womanly features. That is not to say that Arturia paled in comparison. In fact, despite Mordred having the same face, there was something about the Lioness that demanded people's attention over that of Mordred.

The two sisters might as well have been the only people on the field now that the undead were destroyed. Sisters that could have passed for twins stoically scrutinized one another, their expressions mirroring each other as they maintained eye contact as if having some sort of silent conversation.

Saber for her part was taking in Mordred for the first time in her life as someone part of her flesh and blood. A family member she cared little for in her past life, no, that she was not allowed to care for. She was searching for any signs of resentment, of hatred, of bitterness toward her still. Her eyes flickered down to Clarent, the sword that Mordred stole from her treasury. It was worn well. It suited Mordred.

Mordred herself was at a loss, she had not expected to meet her father here of all places. She had wanted to make a big spectacle for her father in Stratholme. To have her father look at what she had built as she made her way through the city streets, to be surrounded by her loyal followers as she sat on the throne, proving once and for all, she could have been worthy. All of that was ruined with the Scourge invasion, and here she was, looking more like a soldier than a King.

Glancing behind Mordred, Saber looked at the crimson clad soldiers. When Mordred rebelled in their past lives, she had a core group of round tables knights but the majority of her forces were mercenaries. Filthy, honor-less scum that raped and pillaged her kingdom. The massive force gathered before her and the one that was unloading from the docks were not those people.

Mordred felt her breath hitch when her father broke eye contact and looked at her soldiers. Quickly she spared them a glance to make sure they were at least presentable. A movement by her father brought her back on guard.

"You did well for yourself..." Saber began as she looked directly into her grown child/sister's eyes. "...King Mordred."

The words from her father's lips shook her, words that she always wanted to hear, that she craved since Morgana filled her head as a child. Acknowledgment from her beautiful, beloved father. She gripped Clarent's hilt tighter then she thought possible.

"Is there anything I can assist you with... sister?" Saber decided. While some part of her would always now consider Mordred her child. In this world, with the blood running through her veins, they were sisters. Of course, that was when Mordred surprised her as she closed the gap between them and threw her arms around her.

Cursing herself for letting her guard down, Saber was about to reflexively shove Excalibur into Mordred's stomach when she heard an odd noise that gave her pause. "Mordred?"

Oddly enough her only reply was Mordred still with her arms around her shaking softly. Saber had to wonder if this was her same Mordred. The one Mordred of old would have never shown such emotion.

Perhaps they could move on from Camlann after all. She couldn't forgive Mordred for her betrayal, but perhaps she wouldn't hold it against her new sister.

Gently, Saber put her arms around her sister and patted her on her back. "It's going to be... okay, Mordred."

Her former progeny's only reply was to tighten her arms.

**** Eastern Kingdom, Stormwind City, The Keep ****

King Varian Wrynn was on his throne looking gravely at the two nobles before him. One represented the will of the House of Nobles, the other was the leader of the mages of Stormwind.

"Your Majesty, this is serious! I know she's a respected heroine but she cannot do whatever she pleases!"

The protestor in question was Lord Arelion of the House of Nobles. Currently owner of major lands in Elwynn and parts of Redridge, he had a monopoly on farmed goods and lumber. And if Duskwood were to be completely healed and active, he would then have to compete with the old Ebonlocke nobility of Darkshire.

"And don't forget she kicked out the mages of Dalaran from Karazhan! What a political disaster that's going to be!"

This was Archmage Xelan of the Stormwind Mages. He was a portly gentleman, but like many of Stormwind's mages, he originated from Dalaran. He came for the freedom and power vacuum left by the dead conjurers of old Stormwind. To be disrespected so had irked him like nothing else.

Varian looked over at his son to make sure the boy was paying attention and then back at the two petitioners before him, inwardly sighing. Rising to his feet he looked at the two, while they bent to his will on many issues, it was still a battle to get it done. Concessions always had to be made.

"I will talk to her when she returns," Varian promised but then turned to look at the two nobles once more. "I will however tell you that as long as I have known Arturia Pendragon, she has always placed the needs of Stormwind's people above petty concerns."

The two before him tryed to sputter in protest but he raised his hand to silence them.

"I am sure that you feel she completely ignored you, but, truth be told, I was about to send forces to aide Darkshire myself. And as a Mage, Xelan, I would have presumed you would be happy for Stormwind to no longer have the Karazhan ley line poisoning our land."

As one, the two nobles closed their mouths. There was nothing they could say to get around the good that had been done.

"Well then, you are dismissed."

After the two retreated, Varian went into his private study and let out a hearty laugh, something that he had not had the luxury of doing in so long. One part of it was in amusement, the other was shame. The Lioness had returned for less than a month, and had not wasted any time in securing the Kingdom's safety.

According to the reports he had received from Mathis Shaw, the Lioness' Pride was moving into Westfall to begin their offensive against the Defias. They had also begun construction of defensive towers at the entrance to Stranglethorn Vale.

It appeared Arturia still held true to the oath she gave his grandfather. He was taken out of his thoughts by a small knock on the door.

"Come in."

To Varian's surprise, the person that opened was a familiar beautiful blonde. "Lady Proudmoore, to what do I owe the pleasure."

"King Varian, I bring a missive from Warchief Thrall of the Horde. They would like to meet to discuss a mutual threat," the Leader of Theramoore announced formally.

Varian's eyes narrowed dangerously and his temper flared. The last time he went to a meeting with the Horde leader, the green skined assassin, Garona tried to kill him. Now they wanted him to present another opportunity for them to kill him again? Keeping his tone leveled, he asked her. "And pray tell, what is this mutual threat that I should risk a knife to my back again?"

Jaina looked as if she had been slapped by Varian's biting words. She could not deny it, twice now Varian had went to peace meetings at her behest, and both times had ended in disaster. Still, this was too important to ignore. Biting her lower lip and lowering her eyes she took in a deep breath to steel herself. "It's about Arthas."

TBC...

AN: And it's begins.

For the Wow Players, yes, this is or was the battle of Light's Hope Chapel. MUWHAHAHAHA. Let it sink in... of the ripple and repercussion.

Anywho you might wonder what happened with Tyrande and Arturia convo :P That is not important save that it happened and stuff has been said! ./flex

Yes that was Star Fall attack and a Variation of the Reckoning Bomb! Ayway, I got done with my "break" and wrote this :P Then WoD came out so that's distracting. Gotta get raid ready ya know! I hope you guys enjoy this ^_^ Other then that not much else need be said!

Also yes, Varian have attended two peace summit with the Horde and both time ended in disaster. First resulted in his kidnapping. Second resulted in Garona attacking him, yeah she's still alive.

Thanks you to those that took the time out to leave comments and reviews. It can only help me improved and it does make my day ^_^ Thanks again!

Pertinent Info:

Holy Orb Attack- Variation of the Reckoning Bomb made by the Argent Crusade, Actual Wow Attack

Gnome Siege Engines- More effective than regular ones for Necropoli, actual WoW engines

Mathis Shaw- Head of SI:7 think of it as the CIA or MI:6 of Stormwind and by extension the Allaince.

Darion Mograine- Champion of the Scourge and of the Lich King, Initially was betrayed by the Lich King to lure out the Scourge's greatest threat, Tirion Fordring. Leader of the Death Knight Order of the Ebon Blade

Death Knights- Champions and noteworthy soldiers that fell in battle against the Scourge, is a playable class in WoW.

House of Nobles- A parliament like government that rule the Kingdom when the King is not present. Most are corrupt and greedy. But they did help fund the rebuilding of Stormwind so they got a seat and prestige.

Duskwood- Dark gloomy area over run by all sort of dark creatures. Reason was because of Karazhan.

Havenshire and New Avalon- Actual WoW Town and Fortress. Was completely slaughtered by the Scourge, led by Darion Mograine.

Omake: Courtesy of UNSPACY000!

"Alright then, let's get going," Bedivere said as Saber walked back with Excalibur.

"Wait, you aren't going to renew your vows as a knight first?" Gawain asked.

Bedivere cocked her head to the side and placed her hand on her hip before she said, "Uh, Gawain, our vows were for life for as long as Our King was alive, right?"

"Well, yeah -" Gawain began before he was cut off.

"Right, and I didn't die, and while My King was certainly dying as I left, I didn't see My King actually die,"Bedivere said before she placed her hands on the sides of Saber's chest underneath her armpits as she scooped the shorter woman up in one smooth motion to shake the blonde in front of Gawain. "And here's My King safe and sound."

"Uh, but she did die -" Gawain began with a lifted finger before he was cut off again.

"Nonsense, you have no proof," Bedivere said as she tossed Saber into the air with a twist and caught the blonde so she was facing Bedivere before she began twirling around while she held the shorter woman aloft. "I, on the other hand, have a perfectly healthy King that I swore my life to. I know you'll whine about other worlds and a thousand years passing, but these are minor details when compared to the fact that my oath is still applicable. Face it, Gawain, I'm right and you're wrong. Again. This is why Our King would come to me instead of you for problems that had to be solved logically."

"Ducks are not made of wood," Gawain said firmly.

Bedivere stopped spinning as she clutched Saber's googly-eyed head to her bosom before she said, "Nonsense, it was a perfectly good argument for our past world. Now stop thinking and go knock up your harem before you overexert your poor brain."

"I don't have a harem!" Gawain said with a blush. "That's something Lancelot would do!"

"Lancelot is more 'wham, bam, thank you ma'am' than a harem builder," Bedivere said before her eyes narrowed as she began to twist back and forth with a wicked smile like a child with a secret. "Wait, do you mean to tell me that you haven't built yourself a harem and are willfully ignoring the bedroom eyes of all those female Elves that were following you around when I came to get Our King?"

"Uh, yes?" Gawain said like a schoolboy uncertain of the answer he was supposed to give his teacher.

"I guess I'll just have to teach them to be assertive and drag you off to the bedroom to have their wicked way with you," Bedivere said as her smile grew.

"Uh, I don't think -" Gawain said as his flight instincts began screaming in the back of his head before he was cut off.

"You never think," Bedivere said. "Look at it like this, you'll be repopulating your race with decent people and replace all those bastards that turned traitor and joined the Orcs."

Saber began to suffer from Night Elf tittie overload and began to froth at the mouth.

"Uh, oops?" Bedivere said as she held Saber away from her.

As always, C+C welcome , reviews appreciated!