( Edited the post to include ghouls and gargoyles instead of zombies and Nerubians. Death Knights summon these and use them as fodder, so that should be alright, yes? )
The old Mountainking took in his surroundings as the strategist inside him awoke. He had been to Andorhal before, back when it was the proverbial breadbasket of Lordearon. He remembered the streets differently, but the layout remained mostly the same. The Forsaken architecture to the north was unexpected, yet unsurprising. Their expansionism knew no bounds. He noticed the host of Death Knights... and nothing else. Where was their support? Where were their flyers? Come to think of it, where was their usual cannon fodder they used for all their overwhelming tactics? He held up his gauntleted hand.
"Hold yer fire. Somethin' aint..-"
Spotting the Argent Captain, one of the riflemen called out for the Thane. "Sir Thunderbeard, o'er there, headin' te th' City Hall." Chonar turned and saw several adventurers and Argent Crusade troops fighting their way towards City Hall.
"Good eye, Berin. Give 'em cover, lads! Move in!"
The Mountainking took off into a sprint as the Riflemen laid down suppresive fire. Well-aimed shots slowed down several Death Knights as they tried to advance on the group, while the grizzled warrior jumped into the fray. The strategist inside him took the forefront as he observed the situation. Time seemed to slow.
Three Death Knights, 12 o' clock, 3 o' clock, 4 o' clock. All human, 4 o' clock injured on the ribcage.
His good eye darted from left to right as he gripped his mace and axe tighter.
12 o' Clock's bladerunes are glowing powerfully. Prioritize highest threat, adjust strategy.
They were upon him, putrid stench of decay blanking out his sense of smell.
3 o' Clock's blade notched, scratched in numerous locations. Obviously favors melee attacks primarily. Keep distance.
The Mountainking dodged the massive, scarred blade as it crashed into the street tiles next to him. He slammed the side of his mace into the helmet of the attacker, stunning him briefly.
4 o' Clock seemingily undeterred by broken ribcage. Green bile indicative of Unholy preference.
The Unholy Death Knight swung his blade, sending a bolt of unholy energies the Mountain King's way, the skull-like sphere striking into the shimmering weapons of the warrior.
Opening, exploit weakness. 12 o' Clock ready to attack. Accept inevitable strike-- correction, rely on squadron.
The Mountainking sidestepped as the Unholy Death Knight's arms were raised to the side at the apex of his swing. Chonar's axe dug itself into the exposed ribcage, sending green bile spraying. At the same time, the Death Knight with the glowing runes on his blade attacked, but staggered when a double helping of blunderbuss ammo struck him, the impacting bullets freezing onto his armor.
Followthrough, use the momentum...
Tugging the axe free from the falling Unholy Death Knight, the Mountainking turned on his heel and struck the staggering Death Knight in the back.
3 'o Clock regaining senses. Expect attack, exploit daze.
He ducked as the staggering Death Knight wildly swung behind him, while the formerly-stunned Death Knight charged in, yearning for blood. Both Death Knights' blades swing numerous inches above Chonar's head, only to strike eachother instead.
Tale ends, close the book.
Leaping upward, the Mountainking slammed both weapons together-- with the heads of both remaining adversaries stuck inbetween. They slumped down to the bilesoaked streets.
10 seconds had passed. The Mountainking breathed harshly for a moment, before gesturing for his squadron to move in towards the City Hall. He followed.