A bold advance
------------------

Ulduar! I'm beginning to curse that place. We launched another assault, deep into the heart of the iron dwarf palace this night. The floor was still littered with the bones and corpses of those slain on the nights before. The great siege engines were still burning, giving the castle an eerie glow as we passed through its halls.

As we ran through deserted corridors a great shadow came over us. But before anyone could react it had allready passed. The feeling that we were being hunted sent cold shivers down my spine.
At a crossing of two hallways we ran into a group of Stone Defenders. It was from them that we learned what had been stalking us all this time: the great Protodrake Razorscale. It was a fierce and proud beast, and as we entered the open space where she resided, we knew we would need help to bring her down. This is where our dwarven friends came in. They had brougth great harpoons with them, knowing what would challenge them here.
There was only one problem: a giant army of Iron Dwarves had been sent to assist the dragon in the battle that was to come. Cyanide, Grig and myself charged in to meet the coming hordes. With our friends behind us we tore through them like a storm. Blades and magic flashed in the open air as we bought the Stone Dwarves enough time to set up their ballistas. But the Iron attackers were not the only threat. From the sky, Razorscale rained down on us like a plague. His attacks were vicious and constant. Only the fast reaction of our healers stood between us and certain demise.
Just as our lines were about to break, the Stone engineers cried out that the siege weapons were ready. Foresthunter grabbed hold of the spears and was able to force the dragon to the ground; within reach of our swords and spells. The dragon fought hard to regain her freedom and broke the shackles twice. But always were we able to bring her down again.

It took six harpoons to finally wingclip the great beast. But when she was on the ground, she was not less deadly. With tremendous force the dragon clashed onto our shields. Biting, sweeping and blazing she came at us. When I drew her attention to give my brothers in arms a chance to recuperate, I felt my shield almost being torn apart. The dragon's breath destroyed my armor and I received a blow to the chest. I could no longer fend her off and I fell to my knees. It would surely have been my end if Cyanide had not thrown himself in front of me to block the killerblow. The dragon was drawn away and Elothar quickly tended my nearly fatal wound. I rejoined the fray and it was not long before yet another great dragon lay lifeless at our feet.

This fight will long remain a terrifying memory to me, for I felt death all around me. But I learned that if I fight for my brothers, they will also fight and die for me.

Allthough death had almost taken me, I was urged by my comrades to fight on. Because my heavy armor was severly damaged, I switched to my magic.
Without much trouble we carried on deeper into the keep. what we found there was beyond me. I had seen gnomish engineering before but here stood a giant robot - like creature. And the strange thing about is was that it acted just like a child! Later we learned that this was not just a piece of engineering, but that an actual heart had been inserted into this monstrosity.
When we came nearer to it the creature attacked us. It said something about new toys but when its giant, metal fists came down, we had no choice but to stand and fight. We went all out to protect ourselves, our lives hung in the balance as waves of scrapbots descendend upon us. Verminaard the Mage and Grig took them on, while me, Elothar and Horb cast out heals to keep everyone alive. The monster attacked us with a child's passion and ignorance, going into a tantrum of extreme rage. The fight continued untill finally the armor around the heart was so scorched that the organ itself became vulnerable. Our strongest warriors unleashed on this weakness. The battle was soon over. Another strong guardian has been laid to rest.

But though this attack has come to an end, many more will follow. And many more enemies will meet their end within these walls. Zenith will return, and with it will come the end of the Iron Dwarves!

-------------------------------------------

Many thanks to the Scribe Asathor

AGAIN! Those blasted Dwarves have a nasty habit of unwittingly unleashing the greatest of evils upon this world. First their civil war leads to them summoning Ragnaros into their stronghold, forever altering the face of the Redridge mountains. And now this.

Their latest "discovery" may well be the worst one yet. Hushed whispers say that Brann Bronzebeard has awakened Yogg-Saron himself! Ulduar was not a fortress or treasure hoard as was always expected, but rather a prison for one of the greatest evils that ever existed.

Vulture was the first of us with the presence of mind to realize that once again it would be up to us to stop Yogg-Saron from being free. Gathering our deadliest arsenal of spells and weaponry we set off to the far north.

Nine brave souls appeared at Ulduar's doorstep and found something we had not expected: There was an armada between us and the Titan Prison! Row upon row of Iron Dwarf, Mechagnome and Rune Giant regarded us from behind the protective barrier the Kirin Tor had put up.

The siege engineers brought our attention to a number of vehicles they had managed to salvage for us. I approached these metallic monstrosities with a mixture of suspicion and curiosity. I had been an engineer and knew well the destructive power of this machinery, but with the gnomes working on them this destructive power was often as destructive to the user as to the target.

I was wrong.

Stepping into a demolisher piloted by Elothar I was amazed with just how much power this machine had, the army would not stand a chance against us! And they did not. The Titans, however, had foreseen this and constructed Storm Beacons to manufacture more and more of the iron soldiers. Focusing on destroying these towers, we came across four much larger towers. Seeing these as a potential future threat, Vulture ordered them destroyed. Cutting a swath of destruction across the grounds we finally came to a gate that could only mar our way forward. Brann contacted us about movement coming from behind it...

From the gate came the mother of all siege engines. The metal leviathan could easily fit most of Zenith inside it. It decided that our leader Jumble was the most threatening of us and set off after him. Our fearless leader managed to run and stay away from the leviathan's attacks and during the chase Vulture noticed something on top of the construct that could be used to our advantage. The leviathan seemed to speed up considerably over time, and every time it did so, two turrets on top seemed to spark up. The only problem was that we had no way of reaching them until Vulture came up with the most ridiculous way of destroying these turrets: Allowing myself, one of the finest warlocks under the Dark Lady's command, to be shot up on top of the machine by use of the catapult I was operating! Nothing good could come of it, I decided to show him the folly of his suggestion by allowing Elothar to launch me toward the leviathan,sure I would overshoot it.

I was wrong.

Elothar successfully launched me on top of the construct and I was free to let loose on the two turrets, as both were destroyed, the tank short-circuited and could do nothing but stand still as we wailed on it with our various weapons. It managed to repair both turrets and resume moving shortly afterward, but doing so seemed to weaken its defenses considerably. Safely falling to the ground once again I was picked up by my fellow Forsaken Schrodinger and brought back to Elothar's demolisher. Launching myself up again I brought down the newly-repaired turrets again and the time spent repairing this time was enough for us to force the leviathan to succumb to our firepower.

The fight drained us, all nine of us felt the adrenaline rush fade, forcing us to take a moment and reflect. As I regarded the Titan prison I could only wonder what other challenges it had in store for us.

Let them come, Zenith will be here to meet them.

Written by Edhunt

As I lay down my spear beside me and wash the blood from my armor I can not help but think back to the siege we have just undertaken. The war against the undead armies of Northrend has been long and troublesome. Many of my friends have fallen, protecting our freedom and lives. But tonight we repaid our debt to them. On this stormy night, me and my kinsmen charged our dragons deep into the heart of Naxxramas, the greatest Scourge keep outside of Icecrown. Here, many of the Lich Kings' commanders resided, and even one of his generals: the great Lich Kel'Thuzad.
It was Elothar, the druid, who summoned us all to this accursed castle. The warriors of Zenith soon assembled in full force, ready to storm the keep, or die trying.

As we started our assault on the Plague quarter, we were met by gargoyles, slimes and many more vile undead creatures. They seemed to have limitless numbers as we battled our way through their ranks. But then Grig, the Death Knight, halted our bold advance. His severed ties with the Lich King still allowed him to sense the most powerfull beings and now he felt one very close: "Noth the Plaguebringer", he said: "a powerfull necromancer is waiting for us. He knows we are here." He did not leave us much time, the old hatred he felt for this Scourge-minion had not lessened over time and so, his axe held high, Grig charged the necromancer. We all followed him into the fray, slaying his skeleton-soldiers whenever they rose again. Only after heavy fighting did we finally manage to put an end to this foul creature. As he fell, I saw a smile appear on Grig's face, the first I had ever seen.

As we set forth we ran into more undead forces but I shall not speak of every single battle for it would simply take too long and I yearn for some much-needed rest.
As we charged deeper into the undead citadel, we charged and killed many of Arthas' Lieutenants: Gothik the Harvester, who commanded an army of a thousand souls was slain under our spells and swords.

After him, many more were vanquished; their deaths allowing us acces into the very heart of the keep. This is where our greatest fears became reality: as we closed in on Kel'Thuzads' chambers, we were driven back by an incredible drop in temperature. Even in this frozen land, the change was frightening. As we all stood there, watching eachother, asking what this new evil was that had been called down upon us, the bones on the floor started to levitate. They seemed to be drawn by an invisible force. Then my eyes were blinded by a flash brighter then twenty suns.

When I regained my vision, I stood face to face with the legendary Sapphiron. The great dragon, turned by Arthas himself to serve him in death. Against this mighty foe, many would have fled. But not Zenith, with courage to warm our hearts we attacked the lord of all frostwyrms. He gave us hell from the ground and from the air but as one we held our ground. Our magic healing us through every blizzard he called down on us. Our swords and spells relentlessly harming him. Suddenly he gave a mighty roar as his last breath left him. The great bones came tumbling down, almost crushing us. But we were victorious once again, and now nothing stood between us and the Lich.

After quickly regaining our strength we made haste to the last chamber. Here, all would be decided. A fight to the death with the General of the Scourge armies. As we burst into the room he was allready awaiting us, thousands of scourge all around; it was a trap. They closed in on us from all sides, no escape, only death or victory remained. Under the warcry of the horde "Loktar O'gar" we started slaying the wretches, countless fell under my spear. When Kel'Thuzad saw that his armies would not hold, he came at us himself. Throwing all his magic into the battle. Quickly Cyanide rushed in to protect the rest of us from the heavy blows. But he was allready exhausted from the blows dealt by Sapphiron, I watched him fall. But there was no sadness in my heart, for it was a good death, worthy of a warrior of Zenith.

The fight raged on however, Grig now threw himself on the Lich, taking over from the fallen Cyanide. Everyone was now fighting with a vengeance, spells and weapons flashed, but the day was not yet won. The Undead claimed another one of us: the Warlock Edhunt was slain as well. But as we were weakened by number, our will grew even stronger and it was not long untill our two comrades were avenged. Kel'Thuzad was vanquished and the Lich King was dealt a mighty blow.

As we celebrated our victory in the throneroom, there still remained a chill in my heart. Not for our fallen, their names will echo on through eternity, but because I did not know what great evil would claim this throne after we had left it... I had a slight feeling though . . .

---------

Recorded by the scribe Asathor in the Zenith chronicles.

It was a cold night in the frozen land of Northrend when the call of war came. Malygos, the Spellweaver himself had turned on his own kin. The Blue Dragonflight had started attacking Alexstraza's Brood and The Red Dragonflight had no choice but to call upon its strongest heroes once again. It was Legionnaire Tonrar, our shaman-chieftain, who heard it first. He soon rallied the full force of Zenith to aid The Life-binder in her struggle. As always, the loyal troops gave heed to the call and assembled near Malygos' stronghold 'The Nexus'. It was from here that we portalled into his domain, a void beyond imagining. Bristling with arcane power.

It was there that we first gazed into the unforgiving eyes of our enemy: the great dragonlord: Malygos. This was not the first dragon we had faced, but still, the very memory of him still makes my skin crawl. His claws were bigger then a Tauren and as sharp as my spear. The immense power he wielded over the arcane was felt all around. This was truly a being of overwhelming power...

With the paladin Vulture to command us, and the warrior Cyanide to lead the charge, we attacked this mighty foe. The clash of bone on shields and metal on scales was maddening. I often feared for my life but just when my many wounds were about to take their ultimate toll, I felt the life in me rekindled by the touch of our healers. Malygos tried to enhance his strength by devouring orbs of pure arcane magic, but through our own magic, we used his allies against him. We grew stronger with every orb that exploded, pervading us with pure power. He tried to throw us out into the neverending void of his domain, but by sheer will we were able to hold on, and keep fighting.

Malygos soon saw the futility of his efforts. His body was covered in cuts and magical burns when he suddenly burst into the air, sending down deadly torrents of arcane bombs. His minions joined the fray as well, my own race, I am ashamed to say, charged us. They came flying from the heavens on platforms, some bombarding us from up high, others, more foolishly, attacked us head on. Cyanide once again drew their attention with his shield while our casters and gunners shot them down without pity or remorse. At the same time; myself, Tonrar and Grig used their platforms to take the fight to the flying casters. With some help from our ranged forces on the ground, these were sent screaming to the underworld as well. A glorious sight and a true testament to the power of Zenith.

With his lieutenants down, the Spellweaver did the unthinkable. He tore apart the very ground on which we stood. He destroyed his own world just to bring us down. We started to fall, the endless fall through the void.
But then; from the darkness came a call. The army of the Red Dragonqueen had broken through Malygos' defenses and came to our aid. They carried us back from the emptiness to finish what we had come to do. The Lord of the Blue Flight burst into a deadly rage, he gave everything he had.

His magic almost tore us apart but we stood united against him. Many fell as their dragons were killed or as they themselves were cut down. The fight was long and hard; with his last powers, Malygos went into a berserker rage, pushing us to the last bit of our strength. Only me and Vulture were still standing when finally the mighty Dragonlord fell. His body disintegrated into raw energy. Wounds and weariness then took their toll on both of us: we fell from our dragons and the darkness embraced me.

What exactly brought us back from the vastness of eternity I can not say. But I do know that it was due to the Lifebinder. I like to believe she found us worthy enough to use Malygos' essence to bring us back to the world of the living, however I can never be sure of this.

Still somewhat stunned from our victory, downfall and rebirth, we left the Spellweaver's realm for good. The Red Flight could now begin their cleansing. With the great Nexus-War finally over, Azeroth can rest in peace again.

Another great victory has been won for Zenith. I hope, should the story of this epic battle ever reach our old Warlord, that he would be proud of his Troops, and remember us... one last time.

---

Recorded by the scribe Asathor.

---

With pride I scanned the message da runner brung me as I sat on dat steps of Zul Aman where I is helpin my brothers finally rinse the stench of Zul'Jin from their ancestral home. You have won a great victory for all living peoples and as I hear da name of Zenith on da wind - a smile splits my face as I recall our times together my friends.

Angkalid (da old boss)

I knew that something of great importance was ahoof the moment word reached me that the elders, on orders from Cairne Bloodhoof, had called for a gathering of the tribes. Five years had passed since the last gathering, to sanction alliance with the Orc leader Thrall. Since then, a lifetime of events has occurred. The third war over, our people resettled in Mulgore without fear of threat from the Centaurs and the mighty city of Orgrimmar overseeing an unsteady peace across our lands like a warm kodo hide blanket. The Earthmother had been left to work her ways in repairing the land. Yet, an unsteady peace…

It was with great anticipation I travelled back from the Outlands, first through Orgrimmar and then on through the vast Barrens plains with memories of my first forays into adulthood flooding back to me. I was anxious to make time and thghout to cut through the plains but had picked up news in Orgrimmar that the Centaurs still held camps around the Barrens lush oasis and that it was safer to stick to the well trodden roads.

It was as well, for even travelling fast and without hindrance I was unprepared for the heat and burdens of constant travelling. Perhaps I have gained too much girth through Netherdrake riding and nights on Figluster’s Mudfish, but that’s another story. As night fell, the smell of the Mulgore plains began to grow stronger and I drew into Camp Taurajo with little thought but to rest for the final stage of my journey. Well, that was until I met Krulmoo Fullmoon, my old leatherworking trainer. He slapped me on the back as I walked into the inn.

“Foreeeeest…”, I turned and embraced my old mentor. He showed little signs of the troubles that had passed over the years and his talk was still of the mighty feats of strength and endurance that he had undergone to master his trade. We soon settled down to laugh and reminisce about our skinning trips in less troubled times. I was also in luck, my first batch from the “Brew of the month club” had just arrived in the mail and we took advantage of the delights of a few bottles of “Autumnal Acorn Ale”. We made room at our table for fellow Tauren travelers and called over to Cheeselog, Tonrar, Angora and Cylandra, blood brothers and sister who had travelled for the gathering. Many more were also on their way.

Ooooh, perhaps Autumnal means that you don’t surface until next Autumn!

That’s the way I felt when I first raised myself the next morning but I had to move quickly as the sun was already high in the clear sky. Walking out, Sneaker jumped to my side. I’d left my kodo grazing on the plains and called him, re-checked his harness and packed before saying my farewells to Krulmoo. He was upset to be missing the gathering, but a presence at Camp Taurajo had to be maintained.

A vast train of people, mounts and caravans were already following the trail to Thunderbluff. Mounting, I joined them and following the long road West, and turned North as we passed Bloodhoof village. A vast crowd of Tauren had gathered at the edge of the village and road to watch the procession. Occasionally, someone would peel off from the road to be surrounded by family and tribe members.

There would be much happiness and rejoicing through the night. Bloodhoof to our backs, Thunderbluff began to appear through the hazy skyline in front of us and with it, the sounds of a great activity and buzzing began to reach our ears. The Darkmoon faire were in place at the foot of the bluff, and a great field of tents and huts had been set up around the outer edges of the bluff itself.

We had no time to enjoy the events. Word quickly passed that Cairne was about to speak and there was a great rush to the lifts with Kodo’s being abandoned in the valleys. I reached the top level quickly and was able to find space close to Cairne himself and could hear him clearly.

He started slowly, but with great weight, and described events that had come to his ears from the other side of the world.

“In times past a great plague had infected the humankind, who had then turned on their former kin, friends and neighbors. The Scourge was born of human flesh.

“He was transformed under his enemies control as a Death Knight and led the scourge into further atrocities in Lordaeron under the Lich Kings control and finally killing his own father, King Terenas”.

Until then, the gathering had been silently listening with great intent at the words that Cairne Bloodhoof was uttering. A single, united groan and murmuring passed through the assembled mass on hearing the final corruption of the human Prince. Cairne held his hand high to silence the gathering… and continued.

“The taking of Frostmourne by the Prince Death Night had caused the Lich King’s power to wane. The strongest of the undead were able to shake free the plague and rebel. Now, led by Sylvanas, the forsaken had fought back and claimed the ruined city of Lordaeron as their own and vowed to fight the scourge. To further this goal, they had declared allegiance to the Horde and started to advance towards their prey”.

Again a great murmuring went through the assembled house, in deep unison hundred’s of Tauren cried “For the Horde…”. the sound travelling along the bluffs and down into the valley below, scattering critters and creatures as it dissipated into the valleys.

“The Prince Death Night, Arthas, was forced to return to Northrend to defend his ‘Lich King’”, Cairne spat as he said the words.

“With Frostmourne at his side, he released the ice and the shackles holding the “King” to his frozen throne. In this moment, the former king and Arthus BECAME ONE…”, Cairne’s voice increased in volume, trembling in anger as he spoke.

“THE LICH KING is still at large and unbound, free to express his untold power and hatred for the living …..AND HE MUST BE DESTROYED”

Another great roar flew up from the assembled house “FOR THE HORDE…”

Cairnes voice changed from that of storyteller, to that of leader and commander and issued direct commands to his assembled followers.

“Undead Scourge, Abominations and Frostwyrms are attacking our major cities.

“Go now!!!!!!!!”

As told by Foresthunter