The defense of Quel'Thalas had begun.
The Scourge Legion had no morale and feared no casualties. Day and night, without pause, they launched savage assaults against the elves' high walls.
High Elf mages and rangers stood atop the walls, desperately holding back the sea of Ghouls, zombies, and skeletons.
The Flesh Giants hastily assembled by the corpse wagons lumbered toward the high walls. Pieced together from all manner of corpses and chunks of flesh, strange lumps of meat shook loose from their massive bodies with every step.
Sylvanas could no longer remember how many undead she had killed. She only knew that she had never stopped drawing her bow.
Suddenly, her sharp eyes spotted someone who looked somewhat familiar.
It was a dwarf Death Knight. Ice-blue light flickered in his eyes, and he held a weapon resembling both a shortsword and a long dagger.
It was that dwarf adventurer from Elwynn Forest who had said she would never get married! Oscar * Flashdrill, who had recently become famous. Queen Sylvanas remembered very clearly anyone who spoke badly of her.
At that moment, the dwarf was sitting atop an undead black goat, seemingly lost in thought. He neither joined the attack nor commanded any undead creatures.
Smack!
Arthas, who was directing the undead in their fierce assault on the high walls, suddenly felt something heavy strike the back of his head.
He reached up and found a somewhat hardened lump of goat droppings.
"Oscar! You mentally deranged bastard! I resurrected you as a Death Knight, not so you could moonlight as a circus act!" Your Highness the Prince roared as he turned toward the dwarf Death Knight.
Undead Oscar burst into laughter, his mind seemingly reliving the adventures he had once experienced.
"You damned human noble, now you know how formidable