After attacking several vrykul villages with the Alliance in the Fjord, Elfangor was sent with a battalion to Westguard Keep in the Dragonblight where after learning the town and its villagers were under seige by Naxrammas, he took up a gryphon himself and flew in to save the villagers.
After a chain of events, he met up with Highlord Bolvar Fordragon as they both charged with the Alliance to the dreaded Wrathgate, Angra'thar!
http://www.worldofwarcraft.com/wrath/wrathgate.xml
The battle was joined as the Alliance battled through the minions of the undead. Soon the wrathgate opened and a terrible cry in an unknown language shook the ground as frozen vrykul charged from the gate. "Fight on, brothers!" cried Bolvar as the Alliance reformed and charged to meet this new foe. These vrykul were stronger than the ones in the Fjord and the Alliance began to falter. Yet just as all hope seemed lost a war-horn sounded. "LOK'TAR OGAR! FOR THE HORDE!" the cries of "FOR THE HORDE" filled the air as the Warsong offensive joined the fight, led by Saurfang the Younger who charged to Bolvar's aid. Elfangor, at the mercy of a vrykul axeman was soon saved by a tauren warrior who joined his side. The Alliance and Horde battled through the vrykul and finally the last of the frozen behemoths fell.
A breif repreive, then the two forces regrouped. Bolvar and Saurfang stood at the head of the massive force. "It's just like it was at Hyjal" Elfy remarked to his tauren companion. "Aye, night elf. The Alliance and the Horde do not stand on one side or the other. There is no difference between noble warriors now when we stand together. As it should always have been." In truth, both sides were mixed in. If one were to look, one would not see an Alliance and a Horde, they would see one force, united against a common foe. Elfangor nodded as soon, the battle would be joined once more.
"ARTHAS! The blood of your father, of your people... demands JUSTICE! Come forward coward, and answer for your crimes!" cried Bolvar in defiance against the massive saronite gate. There was a long silence afterwards. No one expected the Lich King to give into Bolvar's demands after his forces had been slain. Yet suddenly a thunderous grinding of iron sounded as the wrath-gate opened its doors, and for the third time, Elfangor laid eyes on the monster responsible for the death of the only woman Elfangor had ever loved...
"You speak of justice? Of cowardice? I will show you the justice of the grave, and the true meaning... of fear!" exclaimed the Lich King as he strode down from the gate. Minions from the piles of bones began to rise at his words. "ENOUGH TALK! LET IT BE FINISHED!" cried Saurfang as he charged, his axe in hand. With a tremendous cry he brought his weapon up as Frostmourne raised to the air to greet it. A loud CLANG was all that was heard then the great orc fell to the ground, dead at the feet of Arthas, his axe shattered to pieces. A cry of anguish rose from the minions of the Horde and even members of the Alliance let out a gasp of horror. Bolvar himself looked in horror at the death of his fallen companion. "You... will pay... for all the lives you've stolen! Traitor!" Bolvar cried in rage to the dark king. At Bolvars words every blade drew as one, ready to avenge one of their fallen brethren, the Alliance and the Horde as one, perhaps the last time they would ever raise their arms together. For as the Lich King spoke, a thunderous blast echoed behind the army followed by the cries of their comerades. A green smoke bellowed up from where the explosion had hit. Every head turned to the scene.
A deep, ominous laughter was all that echoed around the wrath-gate, but it was not comming from the Lich King. This laughter came from the direction the Horde had originally charged from. "Did you think we had forgotten? Did you think we had forgiven?" a warlock clad in an ominous cloth stood overlooking the battlefront. As he spoke, forsaken catapults reared up, the same catapults Elfangor had seen plaguing vrykul at the Fjord. "Yes!" he thought, "The Horde have brought their artillery into the fray! We can end the Lich King here! But... why had they fired behind us?" "Behold now, the terrible vengeance, of the Forsaken!" Surely they meant to destroy the Lich King. Every catapult fired green barrles into the fray. Every head turned up... only to find horrifyingly that the barrels were dropping on THEM! "Death to the Scourge! And DEATH TO THE LIVING!" cried the forsaken. Explosions rocked the forces at the wrath-gate. An impact paces from Elfy threw him several yards back. The warriors were in complete dissaray and Bolvar was surrounded. "GO! ALL OF YOU! RUN!" cried Elfy as the putrid death erupted all around the heroes. "FALL BAAAACK!" cried Bolvar from the wrath-gate. It was then Elfy realised Bolvar was still there! He looked back to see Bolvar surrounded by the green smoke. Soldiers fell all around him. He looked back to see the tauren he had fought so valiantly with holding his face in his hands. Elfy moved to save him but when he came to him he realized the taurens face was melting in green ooze right into his hands. Horrified, Elfangor realized there was no hope for the victims of this plague and ran with the rest of the forces.
The flapping of wings beat overhead and soon the wrath-gate was in red flames. The Horde ran back to their keep and the Alliance to Fordragon hold. Screaming and terrified soldiers ran everywhere around the hold, some even threw themselves off clifs, comitting suicide. So terrible was the act of the forsaken. Elfangor dug into the ground and dashed back towards the wrath-gate. Through fire and flames he ran til at last he came to the summit where Bolvar had stood with Saurfang. Strange plants errupted from the ground as the flames began to diminish. The Lich King was nowhere to be seen. Elfangor dropped his sword and let out a cry of pure rage to the heavens.
