No Men, Only Flags

"There is a saying among the people of Kings Crest, Lord Uther. Never bring a man into your house after he has betrayed his own."

"What of the principles behind the betrayal?"

"Principles vary. I'm sure the Raven Lord is acting on his own principles."

"After all I have seen, milady? I doubt it."

The Lady of Thorns said nothing, nor did the paladin beside her. She remained mounted on her steed, at the head of her army. Thousands of men-at-arms formed the battlelines at the border between Kings Crest and the Raven Court, among them all flying the banners of the dragon. Among them were dozens of knights, each bearing the emblem of the rose, while dozens more along the flanks, mounted on steeds of their own. And at the rear, siege giants, pressed into service by Lady Raena herself. Whether it be purchased through gold or iron, Uther couldn't say. He could only hope that the means were less grotesque than those used by the Raven Lord himself.

He and the lady stood there in silence. The same silence that had descended upon her army. Even now, years after being drawn to this place, Uther could scarce believe that a realm like the Nexus could exist, or at least, exist in such a manner as having two (and more) entire dimensions sandwiched together like different kingdoms. Here, they were in Kings Crest – a land of eternal summers, where bounty was plentiful, and tyranny kept at bay. Beyond that, beyond the spinning planar gate that bore the Symbol of the Storm, was the Raven Court. Its sun was high as well, but its heat was harsher. The land more barren. Its people less well off. In that sense, he could almost sympathize with the Raven Lord. Envy was the plague of many in power. The best among them overcame it. The worst descended into spite, and took the world with them. Or worlds, as the case had been, and may be again. The orcs had fled Draenor into Azeroth. Now, that part of history was set to repeat itself.

He could see the army as well as Raena did. Men-at-arms, some carrying the banner of the raven. Knights, carrying the sigil of the raven, antlers jutting out of their helmets, reminding Uther less of magnificent stags, and more of demons. Further back, he could make out the Raven Lord's siege giants, many of them dragged in chains. To the untrained eye, their armies were 1:1. But he, the Lightbringer, had seen war long before coming to this place. He could make out the sappers, hidden in the Raven Lord's lines. Could see the vampires, aloft in the skies above – not only had the madman utilized creatures of the Dark Nexus, he had allied with the beings that ravaged his own land. And for what?

Conflict is the way of the Nexus.

The words of the Grave Keeper. A realm lord defending his own realm against the Raven Lord just as Raena did hers. Looking at the Lady of Thorns, he hoped that she understood – he had defended the Raven Court from the machinations of Diablo, he had never considered himself a servant of the Raven Lord himself. He had, of course, been drawn into the petty squabbles of the realm lords, as had all the other 'heroes' that had been taken to this place, but…

Things have changed.

He knew it. Raena knew it, the Grave Keeper knew it, and if the other realm lords didn't know it, they likely soon would. No longer in keeping his own domains, it appeared that the Raven Lord sought to conquer all the Nexus. For what motives, Uther could only guess at – maybe conflict had been the way of this place for so long, that it had been fate that it move on to its next stage. Wars of conquest, rather than border disputes between callous lords and ladies.

"They'll be upon us soon," Raena said. She looked down at Uther – although shorter than he, thanks to her mount (a magnificent unicorn compared to his armoured warhorse). "Raise the banner."

He did so. In one hand, he held his hammer, imbued with the powers of the light. In the other, he held the standard of the Alliance – a golden lion, alone, in a sea of dragons. Across the lines, archers nocked their bows. Magicians prepared their spells, and spearmen uttered prayers to whatever god may smile upon them. He frowned – the gods didn't smile upon mortals in this place. The only gods were the realm lords, and they were undeserving of any worship. Even Raena herself was the lesser of two evils here. Or, hell, seven, if you wanted to be pedantic.

"You're not carrying my standard."

He looked at Raena, who had a wry smile on her otherwise darkened face.

"What?"

"You carry the banner of your homeland." The smile widened. "Is this not your homeland now, Lord Uther? You seem to have settled here better than most."

"Better than most?"

"Well, there's this panda girl that keeps popping in and out, and some of the heroes we have plucked have not let their old hatreds die, but you…you seem to be a man of principle. You jumped into action as soon as the opportunity presented itself."

He didn't say anything, not sure whether to be flattered or honoured.

"And yet, you do not carry the dragon," Raena said, the smile fading.

"None you summon here carry the dragon," Uther murmured. "Nor the raven, nor the skull, the kraken, the serpent, the spider, or the thorn. And if you expect them to, then you've already lost."

"Some are more keen on carrying banners than others," Raena said. "When they take a fortress, or stake conquest against the denizens of these realms, they're all too eager to declare, 'witness the fruits of my bloody deeds.'"

"Deeds that you compel them to undertake."

"And yet, how many complain?" Raena asked.

Uther didn't say anything.

"How many complain?" she repeated. "Even you yourself had blood upon your hands before being taken to this place. Far less blood than some of the dregs that now call the Nexus home, but blood all the same."

"Blood that was spilt in the defence of the Alliance."

"Indeed?" she asked. She put a hand on Uther's shoulder, and even through the armour, he shivered at her touch. "Well, good job with that. But in the meantime, I suggest that after this battle, you report to my men, take up my banner, and cast the lion into the dust where it belongs." She withdrew her hand, still smiling. "Dragons are more mighty than lions Lord Uther. I think that holds true even in your own world."

"And ravens?"

The frowned, her gaze turning to that of the approaching army. "We shall see."

A horn blew across the lines – one blow, to signal that the forces of the Raven Lord had crossed through the realm gate. Men-at-arms, charging blindly. Either through force or faith, they would be the first wave of attack, and suffer the most for it. The Raven Lord would spend the lives of his minions even more readily than Raena would spend the lives of hers.

"A frontal assault," Raena murmured. "Either he has the lives to spend, or he's got something in his feathers."

"Or both," Uther said.

"Or both," she echoed. He held up her arm. Clad in armour, Uther couldn't see what he knew was there – the marks of the dragon's curse, her flesh slowly turning to stone. The Dragon Knight was far from the borders of the realm, but he had no doubt that Raena would use the monster if her war with the Raven Lord called for it. She'd used it for far more trivial matters.

"Let's clip his feathers then."

Her arm dropped. Beside her, a man-at-arms blew into his horn twice. Arrows, enough to give the sun pause, flew through the air. Like judgement from above, they fell upon the mortals charging at them. Like judgement from above, they took the lives of those deemed lower than the earth. The entire first line of the Raven Lord's army collapsed, but not before his banners were planted in the verdant soil. Enough for the second line to pass through, their own banners ready to be planted in grass and blood.

"Sound the charge," Raena whispered. She looked at Uther. "Take my knights, and hold the line. And make sure when the last of those vermin are feeding the worms that call my realm home, the Raven Lord sees the dragon flying."

Uther said nothing. Instead, he kicked his horse in the sides, sprinting ahead down the line. From the flanks, came Raena's knights. All mounted on steeds less mighty than his, but all possessing fire that burnt far more fierce. They were the sons of the dragon. He was the servant of the lion. The one less mighty, but the one less just.

Perhaps the dragon would fly. Perhaps not.

But either way, raven and dragon would see the lion.

Even if it be the last.

A/N

So, thoughts:

-When is Heroes of the Storm going to get more banners? Like, there's so many heroes that don't have a corresponding banner they can use.

-I see that The Fall of Kings Crest comic (which will inevitably invalidate everything I've written here, but I'm fine with that) is channelling the Warcraft art scheme of "get X and Y to face each other over the cover."

-Combine the two ideas into a oneshot.

-Profilt! (Or not, that would probably be illegal given fanfic's dubious legal status)