AN: While the attached image is not directly a fan art or concept art for anything regarding the story itself, I found this on Google and I think it's a good representation for what some areas of the U.S. are looking like at this point in the story. Much of the West coast has been either wiped out or conquered by the Old Gods. It may not be expressed in the narrative, but for the record, areas that have been assimilated into the Old Gods' empire or crushed beneath their heel include all of Washington state, which acts as a capital, Idaho, Oregon, Nevada, Utah, Montana, as well as the majority of British Columbia in Canada. The surrounding regions act as active battlefields, and California is a hot spot for war. Some of the southern region is a bastion of hope for the nation. It it simultaneously a home for refugees as well as a heavily militarized area to fight back against the Old Ones. The empire spreads more quickly over the Midwest due to a smaller population and strength of military.
Several months later...
In the freezing winters of Great Britain, our heroes have established a strong alliance with the forces of the U.K., as well as having deep connections with the American government. There has been a Earth-side portal erected, embossed with images of grand armies, knights mingled with infantry and tanks with cavalry, in a large field on the outskirts of London. This allowed garrisons to be constructed to contain Alliance troops, as well as siege factories (which have assimilated Earthen technology into their own designs, as well as allowing Earthen armies to study their machines).
Many of the Alliance troops were sent immediately to America to aid in the fight, including our cohort. Mathias Shaw even joined them on the front line, acting as a director for spies and a general occasionally, for the infantry. Every single member of the fellowship eagerly fought on the front lines, but it seemed that despite all their efforts, the armies of the Old Gods marched on slowly and steadily. California was slowly being surrounded and swallowed by the New Black Empire, but the National Guard stationed there defended South California to the end, and it seemed as though a protective spell kept the Empire from conquering that region.
Of course, since these are the Old Gods, there are many that have fallen to their corruption, and it is not wholly uncommon to find brainwashed humans with pale skin and black tattoos fighting amongst the forces of the Faceless Ones, which are identified as N'raqi, as well as huge C'thraxxi generals, huge insectoid-humanoid creatures.
It is the middle of winter, late at night in the Mojave desert, and our cohort sit in a tent, shivering their asses off. They are all strongly composed, those that are present. It's only Erin, Redrumei, and Kaldrun together. They are on a scouting mission, trying to find where the Black Empire has made bases, and where they could pass by unnoticed. Back at the main camp, Shaw tends to his troops, who have been marching through the desert for days. They had sneaked past enemy lines, but could not take any APCs or other mechanized land transport, for fear of detection. They were, however, flown as far as was safe by a Chinook, and dropped off a couple miles west of the next fortress.
The speed with which the Old Gods' armies and slaves constructed their bases was staggering. If they were left undisturbed, they could set up a basic encampment in just a few days, with small walls and small armories, and a full base with huge stone towers and larger barriers within a week and a half.
The N'raqi were built for efficiency. Despite being organic creatures, they tired much slower and worked like ants. There were special breeds of C'thraxxi to be used as slaves, and much of the human population that had been conquered, if they weren't used as cannon fodder, were forced to work under the command of their own militarized kind.
Kaldrun stomped out their fire and they continued forward. Red had a knapsack with some basic supplies such as sleeping bags, dried meats and fruit, trail mixes, and ammunition for the small arms her and Erin carried. Kaldrun denied carrying a gun multiple times, opting instead for his artifacts.
They could see in the distance the huge fortress that spread northwest and blocked off the border of California. The Black Empire was trying to build a wall around the Los Angeles country area, and they were quickly taking over Southern California. Shaw estimated that there were only about ten miles of an opening where the wall had yet to be constructed, and they had little time to cross the desert and reach Los Angeles before it was completely blocked off by the Black Empire.
They were deep in the Mojave, and they could see the huge wall in the distance, as well as the decimated landscape beyond it. It was those ruins that they had to make it through in the next few days to get to Los Angeles and recapture the position, or at least extract as many lives as they could before the Old Ones clenched their iron fist around the region.
The party of three drew their travel cloaks tightly around themselves, trying to fight the cold. The plan was that they would scout ahead and the troops following them would make camp at each camp of their predecessors they found. Eventually, Kaldrun and the other girls would no longer make camps, and would wait for the troops to keep up. This would be as they passed the threshold into Los Angeles, and stealth would no longer be an option.
And so they did this, marching forward through the desert, making camp, stomping out the fires, and relying on the fact that they would be followed correctly by the Alliance host.
A few days later, they had exited the Mojave and entered into the ruins. They could see the edge of the wall a few miles away, and they were at least a mile deep into the ruins. The sun was high in the sky, and that night Kaldrun estimated the host would catch up and they would march into Los Angeles like glorious saviors.
And so everything played out without a bump, super easy, barely an inconvenience. They met just outside another of those strange restaurants owned by the McDonald and when Shaw led the host on horseback, dusty old Kaldrun marched up and asked if any were lost to circumstance.
Shaw shook his head and dropped from his steed. He clasped arms with Kaldrun and they stepped away to talk further strategy.
Eventually they decided to simply continue north until they reached the battle, fight their way through, and then make contact with whatever leaders the Terrans had there (Terran is the name for those from Earth, to separate from the humans on Azeroth).
This plan seemed to work, as they marched forward for about a half hour before war cries and battle noises drifted to Kaldrun's ears through the wind. He led the host in the direction of the battle, and eventually they came up behind the army of N'raqi, who had their backs to the Alliance host.
Shaw climbed atop his steed and led the army into battle. They had taken the N'raqi by surprise, and so cut down their forces with grim efficiency. Soon they had cut a swath through the army, which was rapidly filled in. As a whole, they battled through the sea of Faceless Ones, and eventually burst violently out the other side. Some Alliance soldiers were blasted into oblivion by the rain of bullets, but the Terrans on the other side quickly averted their fire when they realized the newcomers were on their side.
Kaldrun broke from the battle to approach one of the Terran militia, who was dressed in a bulletproof vest and ragged leather gear, and had a bloody bandage around his head.
He shouted over the din of war, "We have come to aid in the battle! Where is your commander?"
The soldier paused to reload and pointed downstream of the troops, where a man with a strange electric weapon and a revolver shot and cut down wave after wave of N'raqi.
Kaldrun ran to the commander, who was probably in his forties, with a grey military haircut, heavily scarred face, and rugged facial hair.
"Commander!" called out Kaldrun, approaching carefully.
As the elf had expected, the commander whirled and brandished his gun, looking at Kaldrun with fear and rage, but Kaldrun spread his arms to show he had no quarrel, "I am one of the commanders of a new host of reinforcements! I have come to aid in the battle! My men," he gestured toward the phalanx of Alliance soldiers, "can deal with the Faceless Ones! Come!"
The Terran commander hesitated, but ran to meet the elf.
He spoke in a gruff southern accent, "This better be good."
They ran to meet with Shaw and called out to him. Shaw turned and joined them, and they went past the Terran troops to enter friendly territory. They were still in ruins, but when the Terran commander summoned a soldier and requested an APC, one was promptly provided. Shaw, the Terran, and Kaldrun all climbed into the cramped personel carrier, as well as the soldier who would drive them to their destination.
"Take us to camp up a'ways," commanded the Terran to the pilot.
The commander turned and looked at Kaldrun, then at Shaw, "So what's all this, then?"
Kaldrun placed his glaives beside him. Both he and his weapons seemed much bigger in this little space. He nodded and gazed directly at the Terran, "I am Kaldrun, commander of this host. This is Master Mathias Shaw, commander of the Alliance host, from Azeroth."
The Terran stared blankly, brow furrowed.
Shaw cleared his throat, "How much information have you received from the outside since the beginning of the war?"
The Terran frowned, "None."
Shaw nodded, and Kaldrun went on, "The armies assailing you currently are from my world, Azeroth. I, as well as my armies, Shaw, and the fiends you battle, are from a different universe. We are members of the Alliance, a faction of races that are allied for mutual benefit and protection of our world. The Old Gods are ancient evils that command these dark armies, and have created a portal from your world to ours, and are now attempting to conquer your world. The Alliance has allied with the United Kingdoms of Europe, as well as this very nation, the United States, to combat this threat."
The Terran nodded, "Well alright then. I guess it's my turn. The name's Scott Raynor, and I'm the unofficial commander of the militia here. The National Guard we had stationed here has died off, mostly, so me and some boys I used to go on hunting trips with formed a militia. Trained and armed a bunch of good ol' Californians and now we're tryin' our damnedest to get these fuckin' octopus folks out of here."
Shaw nodded to Raynor's electric weapon, "What is that?"
Raynor picked it up and, it being turned off, looked like a police baton wrapped in copper wire with some kind of arc battery at the hilt.
The Terran flipped a switch and the copper wire began to crackle with sharp electricity and glow red with heat, "I call 'er Justice. This," he twirled the fancy revolver, "Is Iron. Justice is basically just a beefed up police baton with an arc reactor, but Iron is a special case. He's a gun that I invented to fuck up even the craziest of those aliens' tech."
Kaldrun and Shaw remained silent, waiting for further explanation.
"I can demonstrate later," drawled Raynor, grinning.
He switched off his electric baton and sat back. They waited silently during the ride, and at some point the APC lurched to a stop. The militiaman piloting the APC turned around slowly and mumbled, with a glazed, tired expression, "We're here."
Raynor frowned, "No we aren't. What's goin' on here, soldier?"
The soldier shook his head slowly, "Nothing, commander. We're here."
Raynor glanced back at Shaw and Kaldrun, then was silent.
After a moment, he said, "Check the perimeter."
The soldier mumbled, "Perimeter clear, commander."
Raynor grumbled menacingly, "Check. The perimeter."
The soldier groaned and stood from his seat. He opened the hatch, glanced around, and made to get back in. Raynor stopped him by shoving him out of the APC. He grabbed his revolver and jumped through the hatch, immediately aiming it at the soldier. Kaldrun and Shaw grabbed their weapons and followed suit. They three stood atop the APC and watched the soldier stare blankly at Raynor.
"What is your problem, man?"
"Nothing, commander," mumbled the soldier, feeling his hip absently.
"Where have you brought us?"
Shaw and Kaldrun glanced around, finding that they were still in ruins, but there was not a life-form to be seen.
The soldier shook his head and grimaced, "We're here, commander."
Raynor roared and leaped from the APC. He grabbed the soldier by the neck of his uniform and shook him. Immediately in reaction, the soldier brought the hilt of his pistol up and knocked Raynor across the jaw.
A loud, staggering pulse of sound went off, and a bright flash issued from Raynor's gun. The ground behind the soldier exploded, leaving a small crater a few feet across.
Kaldrun jumped from the APC and rapidly crossed the distance to the soldier. Before the militiaman stood up, Kaldrun had him by the neck with one hand. The other hand pressed its palm against the man's forehead. The elf's palm pulsed with blue power, and one final, powerful pulse blasted through the man's body, knocking loose a cloud of corruption from his body.
The man went limp in Kaldrun's arms and blinked.
"What in the... Where--?" the soldier began.
"Be still," Kaldrun ordered. He touched the man's forehead with his index and middle fingers, and muttered a quick spell of protection. A green sigil imprinted itself on the soldier's forehead, and his skin paled slightly.
Kaldrun let go, and the soldier fell backward, but quickly stood and dusted himself off.
"What did you do to me?"
"I cleansed you of their corruption," the elf said, "and I gave you a sigil of protection. There may be... side effects... but you are safe from the control of the Old Ones."
"Thank you?"
Kaldrun nodded.
"So what in the hell was that, anyway?" demanded Raynor.
Kaldrun ordered, "Get back in the vehicle. We are not safe out here."
He herded the group into the APC and wrapped the soldier in a fire blanket.
Without looking at the commander, Kaldrun said, "You can pilot?"
"I can."
"Then do so. I will explain as we go."
Raynor sat in the driver's seat and the APC lurched forward, rumbling through the ruins.
"This man was under the control of our adversary, the Old Gods. They are eldritch beasts of masterful power over the mind. They have likely detected our presence here and are trying to assess our power. They must have known we would not fall to this soldier. He must have been a distraction. Do not let your guard down. There will be more challenges ahead."
Raynor shifted uncomfortably, "How?"
"Hm?"
"How were they controlling him?"
Kaldrun cleared his throat, "Well, like I said, they are masters of the mind. They use their void magics to--"
"Void magics."
"Indeed."
Raynor sighed, "Aw, Christ."
"Indeed."
They were silent for a while longer, until finally they stopped, and muffled commotion could be heard just outside the tank.
Raynor led them from the APC, the pale, sigil-headed soldier following Kaldrun timidly.
They marched through the city, which was heavily militarized. Nearly everyone was wearing a militiamen's uniform, and absolutely everyone had a weapon of some kind. There were camps and artillery and supply convoys rumbling down the highway, and there was just a general air of anxiety and pain in the air.
They were strong people, but they were afraid. So very afraid.
They approached a large tent with low-tones conversation wafting from the inside.
"Before you come in, just remember," began Raynor, "These people are afraid. They are mightily arrogant, and they are wary of everyone. Don't make any sudden moves, y'hear? Just let me do the talking."
Shaw and Kaldrun nodded, and the soldier didn't seem to be listening. Either way, there was little fear he would speak at all.
They entered, led by Raynor, and saw the inside of the tent. It was a war room, with armored soldiers and a SWAT team. There were several tables with maps and data around them. One of these tables was larger, in the center of the room, and several men were crowded around it. An older man looked up, one eye closed, with a nasty scar from his scalp to his chin. Where the scar crossed his head, the hair did not grow. He was a gnarly sight.
He spoke, in the voice of an ancient smoker, "Raynor. You're back."
He, eyed (with only one eye) the group of eccentric characters, with growing suspicion, "What's going on, here?"
Raynor sighed and stepped forward, fingers in his belt. Justice was sheathed on one hip, Iron holstered on the other.
"I think," he began, "It's best if one of them explains. I just now begin to understand the weight of this situation. Even I don't know that much about all this."
He turn expectantly to Shaw and Kaldrun, who glanced at each other. They both took turns explaining the details of what was happening, explaining that these alien beasts were from a different universe, their own universe, and Kaldrun and Shaw have led a force from their universe to aid in the fight. Kaldrun introduced himself as a night elf, a species completely separate from humans in his own world.
It was difficult to get the veteran commanders to understand that, in their universe, magic was very real, a complex science that was wielded by actual mages and wizards and warlocks, and that it was void magic that fueled the armies of the Old Gods. However, they eventually accepted the concept, even if they didn't understand, albeit reluctantly.
One of the younger generals shifted and said, "So what are we gonna do?"
"Well," said Shaw, "I suppose all there is to do is fight. Leave it to Kaldrun and his cohort in the east to figure out the more complicated parts."
Kaldrun gazed around the room, his eyes landing on a strange energy signature. He focused his sight, and analyzed the beings he witnessed. He realized they were humans, but in sets of power armor coursing with powerful electric energy.
"Who are they?" he said, gesturing to the soldiers.
Raynor glanced at the power-armored soldiers, "Them? We call 'em Marines. I designed them their suits. Those two are the only ones we have, but they're tough buggers. They have .50 cal auto-rifles, and they sure mow down some aliens. Only problem is the suits get torn through too fast. We can't make 'em that thick without weighing down the people inside."
They all turned to look at the soldiers, which were engaged in deep conversation. The suits were obviously prototypes. They were large and clunky, increasing the height of the wearer to about eight feet. They wore round helmets with visors that covered the top half of their face. Shaw explained that the visors acted as environment scanners. A button on the side of the helmet could allow the wearer to see in infrared and ultraviolet, as well as turn on text that analyzed the environment.
The suits were indeed impressive.
"Shaw," said Kaldrun, "Get acquainted. I will go back to the front line. I leave you in charge of strategy here. I'm going to send a message to Maldanormu and Bellendore and tell them to portal to us. Once we are all here, we can work on sending spies into enemy territory and perhaps reestablishing a hold over this region, or at least defeating the adversaries here to extract the militiamen and getting them back out of enemy territory."
They all nodded and mumbled understanding, and Kaldrun nodded in the general direction of the commanders. He spun on his heel and exited the the tent. A soldier stationed outside the tent looked him up and down and sniffed, "Need something?"
Kaldrun, without turning, simply said, "No."
He stepped forward, sprouted and spread his wings, and took off. He flew to the peak of an intact building that was taller than the rest. Landing and folding his wings down, he turned his gaze to the sky. Just as he expected, there was a significantly higher concentration of magical movement in the atmosphere above than below.
He reached out mentally and gripped a cord of void magic. He absorbed and cleansed it of the Old Gods' corruption. The magical currents in the atmosphere were all connected, and he could easily track a river of void magic back to Bellendore's energy signature. Now, readers, just remember that these rivers of magical are visible only to Kaldrun and others that can view physical manifestations of magic and energy. A regular human, or even N'raqi, would just see the sky, which right now happens to be somewhat overcast.
Once the connection was established, Bellendore immediately responded telepathically, "Kaldrun?"
"Yes," thought Kaldrun briskly, "Can you help me open a portal? You and Maldanormu can meet us here."
Without saying anything, Bellendore strengthened the connection and began to open the portal. Kaldrun responded in kind, and soon the warlock and dragon-mage had stepped through the portal and they all greeted each other. They allowed the portal to collapse, and they teleported to the base of the building. Kaldrun directed them to the large tent, promising that Shaw would fill them in. They said their goodbyes and Kaldrun once more took off south, to the front line.
It was clear that the militiamen had been fighting long and hard, but the Terran will was a thing of great might. Despite being very tired, the Terran host was able to at least hold back the Old Gods' forces.
Kaldrun summoned his glaives and dove into the crowd of N'raqi. They were severely startled, and he quickly dispatched about a dozen before they had properly begun to fight back.
He quickly carved his way through the Faceless Ones and met the phalanx of soldiers armed with riot shields and lightweight swords. Quickly scanning the crowd, he found Erin and Red fighting together, each armed with a pair of handguns. He made his way to them and beckoned them away from the battle.
"How goes the fight?"
Erin was sweaty, and her ponytail had begun to fall apart. She brushed a lock of hair from her face and sighed, smiling, "Better, now that you're here."
Red was in a similar condition, but her hair was free and matted against her face. She nodded and chuckled, "What took you so long, Kal?"
"My apologies," stated the elf sincerely, inclining his head slightly, "We hit an obstacle in the shape of a brainwashed soldier. He tried assassinating us. Keep your heads on a pivot. We know not who we can trust."
Red and Erin nodded, understanding.
Erin coughed, "So, what now?"
Kaldrun looked out on the crowd of soldiers. The soldiers in the front, stemming the flow of evil. The soldiers in back, using typical Terran weaponry to dispatch N'raqi from a distance.
From seemingly nowhere, a telepathic stimulus caused the hairs on Kaldrun's neck to stand up. His ears twitched, and he instinctively turned his head to look over his shoulder. He was facing down the barrel of a tank, from a distance. He thrust one hand out, creating a magical shield, and sent a pulse through his other, knocking down the girls. The tank fired a shell and it crashed against the shield, shattering it immediately and breaking Kaldrun's arm.
The demon hunter was sent to the ground, gripping his broken arm. His wrist was flipped backward, as well as the upper few inches of his forearm. The upper quarter of his forearm bones were separated from the lower part, and jagged bones stuck out from the skin. A bright green, hot fluid seeped from his wounds.
He took a deep breath and leaped up, ignoring his wounds for now. He knew the tank would likely be reloading for another shot, so Kaldrun quickly summoned up his will and reached out his good arm. He clenched his teeth and focused, then clenched his fist. The tank shook, then after a moment, attempted to fire. Instead of firing, however, it exploded, the front half of it bursting open like a steel balloon.
Bits of soldier were sent around, and luckily some of the living soldiers saw what had happened. Some militiamen went to check the wreckage, while others ran over to Red, Kaldrun, and Erin, who were all partially injured.
Red was the least injured, and explained what she thought had happened. Kaldrun was sitting, clutching his demolished arm, and explained what he had seen.
The soldiers helped him up, and a medic fetched a sling. He cringed as his arm was bandaged and put in the sling, but otherwise seemed unaffected.
He stood and sighed, and he seemed paler. Red and Erin's heads were bandaged, and the scrapes along Erin's arm were patched up.
The medic, a female with blonde hair in a tight bun, beckoned them forth. They were led to a small tent away from the battlefield, and sat on mats on the ground. There was another medic who approached and examined their wounds.
She looked the exact same as the other medic.
"Can I..?" she began, but Kaldrun interrupted her.
"Twins?"
She was startled, because he was blindfolded and had not even looked toward her.
"Uhm.... yes... Can I take off...", she reached for the blindfold, but Kaldrun raised his good hand.
"Don't," he muttered.
She shifted uncomfortably, "Okay. Well, what happened?"
"One of your men," he began, "A pilot of the armored cannon vehicle. We were fired at. I attempted to raise a ward, which kept us from being killed, but the force broke my arm, as you can see. I used a spell to direct the shell back into the vehicle before it exited the barrel, so it destroyed the equipment. For that I apologize."
Raynor burst into the tent, looking wildly for Kaldrun.
He approached like a madman, "What in the hell is goin' on here?"
The new medic twin stepped up to Raynor, "Commander, please, I can't allow--"
"You can allow whatever I goddamn order, missy!"
He shoved past her and knelt by Kaldrun, "You're hurt. What happened?"
Kaldrun explained.
Raynor frowned. He didn't like this casual use of magic. He looked around for confirmation. The original twin nodded, and a few soldiers that had escorted them also agreed.
"Jesus," Raynor sighed, "And, man, I was coming to get you 'cuz we think we found a good plan."
He glanced at the two injured girls on the ground, "So are they good to fight?"
Erin chuckled bitterly, "We have names."
Raynor frowned, "And I would love to hear them, miss, and after we get the pleasantries out of the way, you want some tea and crumpets?"
Erin was taken aback, and Raynor used the pause to continue, "So are you good to fight, ladies?"
Erin nodded, blushing furiously, and Red nodded as well.
"Good," grumbled Raynor. He beckoned them to stand, and they did, and he followed this up with, "Now, what are your names?"
They introduced themselves, drily, and the Terran nodded satisfactorily.
"Well, ladies," sighed Raynor as they exited the tent, removing their bandages and securing their holsters, "I've got quite the mission for you."