Stoneard fell within two days. Anduin and the void elves arrived at night and clad in spells of darkness in the murky swamp, they surrounded the fortress unseen. Then purple spellwork lit up the night as the entire perimeter turned into one large summoning circle, led by Xal'atath herself. Void Walkers soon spilled out of tears in reality. Drops of non-existence whose simple need to feed on whatever material essences they could was easily manipulated into servitude.
They crashed again and again on the wooden walls of the orc outpost. Within minutes, they had multiple breaches in the walls. Primitive fortifications like this had no chance where even more advanced walls would have bowed to the eliminating scratches. Bow and arrow did very little to stem the tide of voidborne.
Axe and sword were a bit more effective. The void walkers that spilled through the breaches were met with good old orc battle hunger. Still, the Alliance forces could have won right there, were it not for Xal'atath wanting to take this opportunity to teach her master how to conduct this ritual himself.
Summoning was the school of magic that Anduin, even in matters of Light, had always had the least amount of talent had. Ancient wisdom of the Old Goddess filling his mind and the raw amount of power he possessed did balance this disadvantage, however. By the noon of the next day, he and Xal'atath together succeeded in pulling a Voidwraith into this world.
Much taller than the average Void Walker, with thin limbs and a purely black body the sapped the light from the surroundings in a dark vortex around it, the Voidwraith advanced on Stoneard, broke through the still standing gate like it was made from paper and soon thereafter the Horde forces were made to surrender.
Disarmed, they were put under the watch of the void elves and sent to the Alliance fortress close to the remains of the Sunken Temple, the Marshtide Watch. They would be kept as prisoners of war there. Meanwhile, Anduin and his bodyguards hastened south.
The air quickly turned from moist to hot and dry as they entered the Blasted Lands. The red rocks dominated the desert landscape. That this was supposed to have been a lush forest, an uncorrupted extension of the Swamp of Sorrows, before Anduin's birth, he could hardly believe it.
He found Nethergarde Keep to only house a small garrison. Anduin found this surprising. Sure, the Horde had been forced out of the area a while ago, only a small remain holed up in Dreadmaul Hold. They were so insignificant that they didn't even dare to enact any harassment on supply lines like Stonard and Grom'Gol had.
That garrison was immensely surprised to see their High King arrive. Apparently they had intended to send a messenger just the next day. Medivh's warning had indeed been true, the Dark Portal was stirring. The true might of the garrison had moved to meet whoever would come out of the trans-dimensional gate right at their point of entrance.
On the back of their griffons, Anduin, his men and their Sentinel slaves joined the main forces when they had just begun putting up camp. "High King," the leading marshal saluted before his monarch, the well-practiced motion coming naturally despite his surprise upon seeing Anduin enter the barely raised tent. "I did not anticipate you coming so soon, we..."
"I am already in the know," Anduin softly interrupted the man with a charismatic smile. "Be at ease, marshal, I am here to announce my arrival only. You have acted in the right ways, from all I can see, but I must make my own investigations."
A year ago, the marshal now would have begun giving Anduin a list of unasked advisements, wanting to protect the young, inexperienced monarch. However, since the marshal had heard the news and there was a slave house in Nethergarde that had recently seen the addition of a few dwarves and gnomes for the garrison to have their fun with, the military man had no unneeded tips to share. All evidence pointed towards the High King being a much more capable man than anyone else around.
"If you need anything, my forces are yours," was all the marshal stated before leaving Anduin to conduct his business.
Anduin left the tent to inspect the portal itself. He had seen its variations. Always the massive stone gate, two humanoid statues standing guard at the sides, with a snake curving on the top, its grey body coiled in the shape of an infinity sign.
What had differed over time had been the colour that the dimensional tear within its otherwise empty frame had taken. A black view of the cosmos when the portal had lain dormant, but not dead, then tinged green when it once more connected to Outland, the shattered remains of the original Draenor, then a brown tone when the orcs of the Iron Horde had spilled out of it. Now it had a golden tone and echoed noises that faintly reminded Anduin of the hymn of the Naaru.
Xal'atath hissed in his mind. 'Sickening purity,' she spat out and the High King had to agree. His sensibility towards things of the Light was majorly below that of the Old Goddess, but even he could feel that this was wrong. Something so dominated by the Light, so pure, was not meant to exist.
Testing, he stretched a hand out towards the portal. Although he felt a tingle around his hand as it sunk through, it stayed firmly within this world. This was a mere flare, the portal had not properly been opened and Anduin wasn't sure if it would stay for long either. If he just left, the problem would undo itself.
'Atha, what happens to worlds where the Light wins?' Anduin asked a question he had never wondered about until this point. If the Old Gods won and got what they wanted in service of their masters from the Dark Beyond, then they would turn a planet into an endless writhing of maddened life, fighting itself for the amusement of the voidborne. He knew that much and it appalled him. Endless agony for life out of bounds.
'The Light consumes every last bit of life on a planet,' the Old Goddess opened the truth to him. 'Encapsulating everything in its disgusting radiance. The whole world will shine with the Light, covered in golden crystals that keep everyone in their oh-so-blessed state of perfection. Perfect, if you want to call it that, lifeless, unmoving and completely calm. No emotions remain. Only a crystallized rock tumbling through space.'
Hearing this made Anduin's hairs stand on end. To think that every single priest and paladin out there had unknowingly supported yet another apocalypse veiled as a paradise... 'Truly there is no one path to follow. Everything must be taken in moderation,' he thought and bundled his magical power. "I order all of you wait for my return," he suddenly informed his bodyguard.
Although shocked and wanting to protest, the entire king's guard simply saluted as one, trusting in their leader's wisdom. They watched Anduin take a single step forwards, the gold of the portal intensifying for one moment as the High King's might fuelled the tear in space and time. He only had enough knowledge and power to bring himself through.