Caroline was more than well aware of the properties of the plague. 30 meter spread per every second of Lordaeron standard time. We have seconds, we won't make it after the plague has built up enough momentum. She looked around and found her and Aldean's line had broken to a greater extent. We need fire. "Forsaken, make a pyre, quick!" The retreating Forsaken heard their mistresse's plea and began to run back towards the broken line. Burning house and Scourge were everywhere and there was only one reason Caroline would want to utilize that resource. "Aldean! You and the other living stay back! We can contain the plague long enough for you to escape!" Death knights understood the call and some jump in to protect the Forsaken fire builders. They took whatever burning wood they could find and created a row in the way of the oncming onslaught of plague cloud.
Aldean took notice and had a realization, They're sacrificing themselves?? "Wait, stop!" Caroline darted a look back, "Go! You Light happy curs!" The Forsaken continued their building. Aldean soldiers had stopped with him, "Sir, we'd die too quickly in that. It seems the Forsaken have the right idea. Let's break from the epicenter." Aldean sighs, "Alright, let's get to cover." Saved by the Forsaken again. My father's cronies are starting to piss me off!
The Fires began to burn brightly, even through the green mist that began to engulf the area. "Lady Caroline the cloud is moving in fast, we'll never make it!" The cloud clashes with the fire and rises up. A small series of explosions rocks the line and prevents any Scourge from climbing over top of the small barricade. "Fire can burn out most flames, even that of the Scourge's beloved disease. We have moments, retreat!"
The Forsaken pull back, all on foot, since losing their steeds. "Fall back! Fall--!" Just then, the sound of a sudden exhalation leaves her. A blade pierces her chest and quickly recedes. Lady Caroline falls as Scourge begin to rip her apart. "My lady!" screams some of the Forsaken. They charge the assailant but are cut down one by one. The rest stay back and Aldean watches. "Quite a shame. You Forsalen, after all this time, now decide to be pious, moral?" A blast of frost magic quenches the fires and the plague runs through swiftly. The Firsaken are caught in the cloud and fall to the ground as if they were ablaze.
Darion watches as his death knights return to him and Sylvanas. "I know you! Show yourself!" screams Darion Mograine. The figure appears from the plague cloud, a night elf, blue eyes. Armor of the late Scourgleord and a sword that stands as a dark needle. "Sevenvoids?!" The night elf smiles as more Scourge pour from the mists. "A pleasure to see you again Darion Mograine! I've missed our competition." He pauses, "He who can lead forces with more proficiency." Darion smirks from under his helmet, "As I recall, I bested your numbers my fair share." Sevenvoids chuckles, "Yes, but I have a far larger force now. Unlike Northrend; ironic, wasn't it?" He turns toward his Scourge army and nods. They slink back into the mists, "I suggest you all regroup. After all, our quarrel is not with you this day." They vanish into the plague clouds.
Darion grunts along with his knights. "He's showing mercy Sylvanas. Neither of us have the forces to spare, we need to make a head count." Sylvanas nods, "Let's gather the heroes and regroup at the farms to the north, this battle is over." She pauses, "Forsaken, find the mercenaries. I care not if their Alliance or Horde, just bring them north."
Aldean gazes past into the mist. Sevenvoids? So, he's their commander in the field. This is a hopless fight, where's the Light damn Alliance?!
((Sevenvoids was a Scourgelord in War of the Greys: Forge of Souls. You can take him as he is or you can read up on him. Just a Scourgelord, nothing too special, yet. Also, let's regroup and I'll give out some story elements. :P))