Like many other guilds we cleared the first wing of the Icecrown Citadel well within the first week.

1. Marrowgar died on 9th December.
2. Lady Deathwhisper and the Gunship battle were completed on 11th December.
3. Saurfang was beaten for the first time on the 13th December.

We then went into siege mode and cleared the place every week, despite the preparations for and the Holidays, that stopped the news press.



The storm of the Lich King's stronghold had quickly turned into a siege. The Ashen Verdict had set up a fortified basecamp in the first hall of the Citadel and easily repelled the halfhearted assaults of the Lich King's minions. His raid had stormed the lower halls and tackled the first Lieutenant head on. The being reminded him of the thing Humans called the Grim Reaper, Death impersonate. The warlocks called it a spectre, but it had three heads instead of one, an axe for the scythe and without the robes. It mattered little to him. This was the Lich King's domain, anything would be twisted in here, sculpted to Arthas' liking. The foul magic animating the bones was quickly dispersed.

Next they encountered a female Lich conducting some sort of ceremony. Since when had the Scourge become a cult? Or was it the last step for the Cult of the Damned to become the mindless slaves of the Lich King? Whatever it was it was in their way. They had come for Arthas and the Lich was in their way. It shouldn't take long to dispense the unliving creature, they had dealt with the likes of her before. The mana shield and the summoned disciples only delayed her undoing.

The elevator took them to the citadels round path. Here Horde forces were fighting Alliance. So much for a unified attack, he thought. For the raid it didn't matter much. If the Alliance was blocking their way, they had to be put aside. The scouts had found the door leading to the inner halls ontop a tower, so the had to board the Orgrim's Hammer. While making the approach by air, the Alliance air ship tried to stop them. As they weren't helping them, they had to be dealt with just like the forces on the round path.

Reaching the tower's top, the Horde's forces were greeted by a Death Knight, that had once been Saurfang's son. The High Overlord didn't so much as blink once when he charged. His son had died at the Wrathgate and now only his undead body served the Lich King. With the help of the raid, the evil spirit was exorcised from the body and Saurfang claimed it for burial in Nagrand. Whatever emotions ran through Saurfang, the old Orc kept them to himself.

Right there the assault stopped. The door from which the Death Knight had emerged stayed closed. It would take time to break the seals, the technicians had said. That was four weeks ago. Every week he had come up here to check on progress. The Tauren shaman let his gaze wonder over the frozen wastes of Icecrown like he had done for the past 4 weeks. in the distance he could see the roofs of Ymirheim. Far down below him lay the Citadel's courtyard, Mord'rethar was to his right, Corp'rethar to his left. A chill wind that made him shiver, ran over the platform now dubbed Deathbringer's Rise. Is it colder today, he wondered pulling his cloak closer around his massive shoulders. Any minute now the door would open the technicians had assured him. The raid was ready and eager to move forward again. Was it a sign of weakness, that even the Lich King had to bar his doors from the Horde forces, he wondered. Or is Arthas only toying with us?

There was a faint sound but clearly audible in the freezing air. A click and a creak. The door was open. One last time he scanned the horizon for the Orgim's Hammer and with her Saurfang's return. It had been four weeks since he left. The High Overlord would surely return to avenge his son. His wrath would be terrible and every other rage known to date would be second to it. He hoped the old warrior wouldn't do something foolish. If the long ago events in the Borean Tundra were any indication of what was going to happen once Saurfang returned, he and the raid would have to take cover, not from the Undead but from the whirling axe of Saurfang.

Yet there is no sign of the air ship yet. He draws his axe and mace from their sheaths and turns around. The imbues of his weapons awaken at his mere thought. He is ready and so are the 24 others with him. The assault continues ...now.