"They haven't breached the walls," Alleria pointed out, standing beside him. She and the other elves, both warriors and rangers, had kept up with the horses easily, and both she and Lor'themar Theron had come forward with him to see what lay before them. "It is not too late to aid them."

"No, you're right," Turalyon admitted, shoving his disappointment aside and studying the situation more dispassionately. "This battle is not yet lost, and with our aid Capital City will not fall." He rubbed at his chin. "This may even work out to our advantage," he said softly, considering the matter more fully. "The Horde does not know we are here yet, and we can trap them between us." He frowned. "We should let Terenas know we're here, though, so we can coordinate our attacks and so he does not feel he has been abandoned."

Theron nodded, eyeing the mass of orcs teeming below and beyond them. "A good plan," he agreed. "But how would you suggest we reach the city? No one could get past those warriors unharmed, not even an elf."

Alleria nodded. "If this were a forest I might," she admitted, "but here on an open plain there is no chance for cover. It would be suicide to attempt it."

Khadgar, sitting his horse on Turalyon's other side, grinned at the three of them. "I can get across," he assured them, laughing at their expressions. "With a little help," he added, glancing at a short, tattooed figure who had alighted on the rocks beside them.

"Sire!"

Terenas glanced up and saw a soldier shouting and pointing beyond the walls. Thinking the orcs had massed for another attack, he glanced out, following the man's gesture, but the soldier was pointing up rather than down. Terenas looked, and almost gasped as he saw a dark figure soaring toward them.

"Ready archers," he called, staring at the shape, "but hold fire until my command." Something seemed strange about it. Why send a single flier of any sort, when there were thousands upon thousands of orcs smashing against the walls below? Was it a scout? A spy? Or something else?

The archers positioned themselves, longbows drawn and arrows nocked, and waiting patiently. The shape grew closer. Now Terenas could see that it was a gryphon, though far wilder and more beautiful than the heraldric symbols would have led him to believe. Its feathers glowed gold and violet and red in the sunlight, and its fierce head turned, birdlike, to glance around with wide golden eyes as it approached.

And a figure sat upon its back, holding reins and riding a saddle as if upon a horse.

The rider was big, but did not seem large enough to be an orc. And it was wearing clothing, far more than the green—skinned warriors below. Terenas stared, and then let out a breath of relief as he caught a glimpse of violet. That wasn't armor, it was robes, and that could only mean one thing.

"Lower your weapons!" he called to his archers. "It is a wizard of Dalaran!"

The gryphon swooped toward them, its mighty wings beating, and then it was overhead, circling back even as the archers turned back to watching the orcs below. The rider was clearly searching for a place to land, and finally settled on the nearby corner tower, which had a wide flat circle for cauldrons and ballistae and signal fires. Terenas strode in that direction, Morev right behind him, and reached the tower just as the gryphon touched down and folded its wings along its body.

"Well, it's good to know I haven't forgotten how," the rider announced as he swung one leg over and dropped from the saddle. "Thank you," Terenas heard him murmur to the gryphon, which cawed in reply. Then the wizard turned, his short white beard visible now, and Terenas recognized him.

"Khadgar!" he said, reaching out and clasping the mage's hand. "What are you doing here, and on such a creature?"

"I come bearing good news," the old—seeming mage replied, grinning. He looked tired but otherwise well. "Turalyon and his forces are just the other side of the northern valley," he informed Terenas, gratefully accepting a wineskin Morev offered and taking a quick swallow. "We will attack the Horde from behind and draw them away from you."

"Excellent!" Terenas clapped his hands together, pleased for the first time in days. "With the Alliance army here we can attack them from two fronts and batter the orcs between us!"

"That was Turalyon's plan," the mage agreed cheerfully. "Kurdran loaned me the use of this gryphon so I could reach you and coordinate. I am just grateful I still retain the knowledge Medivh gave me on how to handle one."

"Come," Terenas told him. "My servants will see to the gryphon—they will get it water, and I am sure we can find something for it to eat. Let us talk about what Sir Turalyon thinks we should do next, and how we can make these foul orcs rue the day they dared raise arms against our city."

"Charge!" Turalyon led the way, hammer held before him like a lance, spurring his horse up out of the water and onto the bank and toward the massed orc army. Many of the orcs were still concentrating on the city walls, which they had yet to dent for all their ferocity, and only a few heard the sound of his horse's hooves and turned to look. One of those opened his mouth to shout a warning, but Turalyon's hammer caught him full across the jaw, shattering it and snapping his neck from the force of the blow. The orc dropped and Turalyon's horse trampled him.

Behind him rode the rest of the cavalry, and the foot soldiers were marching after them, having crossed the plain north of the city. Now they advanced upon the Horde, which turned to meet them.

And that was when the city's ballistae fired, raining arrows and rocks down upon the orcs' backs.

Turalyon led his mounted soldiers into the Horde's front ranks and through them, circling around and back again. And then the city's defenders struck a second time.

The orcs milled about now, unsure what to do. When they faced the city the Alliance soldiers struck them from behind. When they turned toward the soldiers the city guard attacked them. They had yet to breach the walls and so they couldn't retreat into Capital City, but they couldn't get to the lake on the plains and the mountains without first going through the Alliance soldiers. No matter which way they turned, orcs died.

Unfortunately, the Horde had bodies to spare. A row of massive orc warriors marched forward, weapons at the ready, and Turalyon was forced to pull his riders back. The elven archers released a volley of arrows that rained down upon the orcs, felling many, but new warriors took their place at once. The orcs began throwing themselves at the Alliance army, forcing them to backpedal or be crushed beneath heavy orc bodies, and step by step Turalyon found himself and his men pushed back toward the water. Once they were out of reach half the remaining Horde soldiers turned their attention back to Capital City itself. They hurled themselves at the walls, quickly exhausting the city's supply of oil and rocks and gravel and other items to drop on attackers.

The ballistae could not be aimed at anyone up against the walls, not without doing more damage to the city than the invaders could, and so the orcs were now safe to scale the walls and batter at the gates. Thus far the gates were holding, but they were taking a terrible beating. And orc warriors were reaching the ramparts and pulling themselves up and over, grinning. Most were blocked and stabbed or bashed as they reached the top but before they could climb over, but a few made it and began attacking the guards, throwing them into disarray and leaving gaps in the wall's defenders. The first wave to climb over all died, but more followed them, and now the bodies were piling up and providing the orcs with some cover as they scaled the walls, giving them room to plant their feet and ready their weapons before attacking the guards.