I saw it more as him declaring, "This is my house, and you will harm those I keep protected within it no longer!"
Or something to that effect. He was a healer first and foremost, last I checked, and his flock need him more than they ever did before... so he answered with literally everything he had, and went down a true legendary hero.
Massive respect for the old man, who died as he lived: channeling the Light to save others.
TimEd
Meteor maker
Maexnna is still around right? Better have it drag the corpse outside so the body doesn't leak more void there. Maybe web it up to contain it a bit too.
I guess the nerubians finally got combat data for their creations. Maexnna seem highly effective if it's venom affected that monster and is even nimble enough to avoid attacks.
I guess the nerubians finally got combat data for their creations. Maexnna seem highly effective if it's venom affected that monster and is even nimble enough to avoid attacks.
Chapter 49
Krivax could feel his heart pounding wildly as he waited for the enemy forces to walk down the tunnel. A group of three pale orcs was studying their surroundings carefully, but they suffered from the same failing that many non-nerubians faced.
They never look up.
The moment that they passed under him, Krivax dropped down from the ceiling and landed directly on top of the rearmost orc. While he mainly relied on magic when it came to combat, that didn't change the fact that Krivax was a ten-foot-tall spider person that weighed more than three hundred pounds. When the sharp ends of his sleek spider legs struck the orc's skull, it immediately pierced through and the orc fell dead onto the ground. He immediately followed up his surprise assault by casting a wave of ice around him that rooted the remaining orcs to the ground before quickly impaling them with frozen spikes.
Krivax was already running down the tunnel before the final orc's body even hit the ground.
I need to get back to the group!
After the tunnel entrance team had retreated underground, the battle continued to go well for them at first. Their traps had ripped the orcs apart and they easily turned the tunnels into a killing field that the Horde was unable to overcome. Everything had gone exactly according to plan… until it became clear that the ambient Void was making it far more difficult for Crinis to open a portal than expected.
They had many powerful mages in their group, but their stamina wasn't inexhaustible and the Horde was proving to be utterly relentless. Their group had begun taking their first casualties when a two-headed ogre had unexpectedly thrown a massive fireball into a group of exhausted Dread Stalkers. After that, they fell back to a secondary defensive position until they eventually lost Archmage Drenden to the unending flood of orcs, ogres, and void creatures.
The Archmage had taken down many orcs with him, but his final spell also collapsed the tunnel and ended up separating Krivax from the rest of the group. His only saving grace was that the jormungar had dug out several paths leading to the main chamber and that his knowledge of geomancy helped him to remove minor obstructions in the tunnels. Otherwise, Krivax would have probably found himself stuck with no way to get out.
He had spent the past few minutes frantically running toward the nearest sounds of battle and fighting off any enemy that he came across. Fortunately, Krivax was confident that he was now fairly close to his allies.
He was proven right as he turned around the next corner and noticed the few Dread Stalkers hanging from the ceiling, prepared to ambush anything that came through the tunnel. Krivax nodded to them in acknowledgment and relief as he made his way into the main chamber and swiftly took in the state of the group.
Several Dread Stalkers and Viziers were in position on the ceilings around the other tunnel entrance while Archmage Karlain and Archmage Arugal cast deadly area-of-effect spells at groups of incoming enemies from range. The other mages and fighters were taking the respite to tend to their wounds with healing potions and recovering their stamina. From what he could tell, Archmage Ansirem was speaking intensely with Vizier Crinis to figure out how much longer it would take for her to open the portal.
The chamber itself was covered completely in arcane glyphs related to spatial magic, and Krivax could sense dense arcane energies flowing through and around Crinis, even as she spoke to Ansirem.
Krivax was suddenly pulled from his thoughts when he noticed the familiar face of Masruk, who was currently tending to a wound on his abdomen. He immediately made his way over to his friend and began examining his body for injuries. "Masruk! Are you hurt? How bad is it?"
"Krivax. You survived," said Masruk, voice filled with relief. "I feared the worst when the tunnels collapsed, but I'm happy to see that you're well. My wounds are minor, merely a few cracks in my carapace that should disappear quickly once treated with a healing potion."
Krivax only relaxed when he saw that his friend was not downplaying his injuries. "That's good. I'm glad to see that you're alright as well. How bad is the current situation? I can see that we lost a few more Dread Stalkers while I was gone. Is there any news about the fight above? I hope that Vizier Hadix will be able to get his hands on the Dragon Soul soon."
"These orcs are as fearsome as Anub'rekhan told us," Masruk admitted with grudging respect. "Their attacks have been ceaseless despite their immense casualties, and our forces are slowly being exhausted. Vizier Saltik was lost to a sudden attack by a group of ogres. I hope that Vizier Crinis will be able to open the portal soon so that we can receive reinforcements, or make a hasty retreat if necessary."
"Vizier Crinis' best estimate is that she should be done within the next ten minutes," Archmage Ansirem announced to the mages and fighters in the cavern, nodding to Krivax as he walked over to the two of them. "Krivax, I'm relieved to see that you survived the tunnel collapse.
"Thank you, Ansirem. Do you think we'll be able to hold out long enough for Crinis to finish her casting?" Krivax asked worriedly.
"Almost certainly. Our group includes many powerful individuals and the Horde forces are significantly restricted by the tunnels," Ansirem answered reassuringly before his expression turned grim. "There may be more casualties and the constant stream of attacks will wear us down. Even after the portal is opened, we'll need to fight our way back to the surface, which won't be easy. I want all fighters and mages to rotate in and out of combat to conserve our stamina."
"I see. Do we have any plans for that when the time comes?" asked Krivax, glancing toward the group that was still defending the tunnels. He sincerely doubted that they would be able to push back the Horde with just their current forces.
"We do. Archmage Karlain has been saving a few of his more potent alchemical concoctions. I'm also hoping that whichever dragon comes to deliver the fragment of Deathwing will be able to help," said Ansirem, causing Krivax to let out a breath of relief. "But enough of that. Anyone who has recovered should join the group at the tunnel entrance. I suspect that the black dragons can sense Vizier Crinis' casting nearing completion, and are likely to send even more of their forces to stop us."
Krivax nodded to Ansirem and began making his way with Masruk at his side over to the tunnel entrance to join the rest of the defenders. After taking a moment to create a few webs that he could use to climb up to the ceiling if he needed to, he took position next to the other mages. Krivax immediately launched a bolt of ice at one of the orcs in the distance, only to let out a grunt of frustration when the creature hid behind one of the corpses littering the tunnel.
I'm really glad I can't smell anything through the wards. All of these corpses must smell absolutely disgusting…
Krivax lost himself in the rhythm of battle as a constant stream of Horde forces made their way down the tunnels.
The nerubians frequently used the terrain to their advantage, causing stone spikes to erupt from the sides with their geomancy and using their webs to slow down the enemy's advance. Whenever the Horde grew too numerous, Archmage Karlain threw out some kind of terrifying alchemical bomb to kill large numbers of them, which were doubly effective within the close confines of the tunnel. One seemed to release a lingering gas that turned any flesh that it touched into stone while another released a burst of arcane energy that caused violet crystals to grow from the enemy's bodies. At one point, Ansirem pulled out a gem from his spatial bag that produced a thin beam of fire that melted through an ogre's torso, quickly bisecting it.
Archmages are really scary, Krivax thought to himself as he threw a ball of silk at an orc that immediately exploded with arcane energy and blew a hole in its chest.
Despite this, the Horde's assault started to increase in intensity. When a group of two-headed ogres began charging down the tunnel with a flood of orcs following behind them, Krivax gulped nervously and felt his hands start to shake. Many of the orcs were killed by a particularly nasty geomancy spell that shredded them with a volley of rocks that tore through them like bullets, but the ogres protected themselves with crudely made arcane barriers. Unfortunately, one of them got close enough to hit their front lines with a massive burst of arcane magic that sent a few of the Dread Stalkers flying and knocked Krivax to the ground.
Krivax pulled himself together just in time to see one of the two-headed ogres snarling down at him and swinging its enormous club at his side. Taking full advantage of his alchemically enhanced reaction time, Krivax quickly created a barrier of ice around his body that was promptly smashed apart as he was knocked several feet back.
Thankfully, the protective bracelet that was given to him by Hadix as well as his highly enchanted robes meant that the blow merely broke the carapace on one of his arms rather than turn him into nerubian paste.
The chamber had broken out into a disorganized free-for-all. Krivax briefly glanced around him to keep track of any other opponents near him, before turning his full attention back to the ogre. He was confident that the Archmages and Dread Stalkers would be able to kill off the enemy eventually and restore order, but he couldn't afford to allow himself to become distracted.
As the ogre charged at him, Krivax turned the ground beneath their feet into thick mud and launched a lance of ice at their knee once they began to sink down. The spell accurately hit the target and the two-headed ogre bellowed in pain as the magic pierced their knee and froze the mud around their leg.
Before Krivax could celebrate, the two-headed ogre launched a missile of arcane energy in his direction and easily pulled its leg from the frozen earth with an impressive display of strength. Surprised by the unexpected attack, Krivax frantically created a barrier of stone and ice to block the arcane missile and only barely had enough time to jump back as the ogre swung his club at his head.
The ogre attempted to chase after him, but Krivax took advantage of his superior maneuverability to climb up a nearby web and avoid the creature. Once he wasn't in imminent danger of being smashed to pieces, Krivax reached to his abdomen and grabbed one of his spellweaves.
Let's see how well this one works…
Once the ogre had drawn close enough, Krivax channeled his magic through the silk and activated the spellweave. A large net of silk immediately erupted from his hand and wrapped itself around the ogre's entire body before beginning to glow with arcane magic. Krivax watched as the ogre's flesh turned gray as all of the heat was sucked out of its body and funneled into the net wrapped around its body.
Not bad.
While the spellweave wasn't one that Krivax had invented himself, it was still fairly advanced and it had taken him a decent amount of time to properly learn it. Once the victim was ensnared by the web, it was extremely difficult for them to free themselves in time as they lost energy and were rapidly frozen solid.
Confident that the ogre wouldn't be escaping, Krivax turned his attention to the rest of the battlefield. Both of the other ogres had already been killed by the Archmages and the rest of the Horde was in the process of being pushed back. A few of the Dread Stalkers had been killed, but Masruk looked to be alright and was currently spearing through a Void-corrupted monster that had jumped at Archmage Karlain.
Krivax was just about to join them when his attention was suddenly drawn to Vizier Crinis as a massive pulse of arcane magic flowed through the chamber.
Finally!
Krivax felt a surge of relief as several squads of Kirin Tor War Mages immediately poured through the portal and joined the fight. The War Mages were both experienced and well-rested, so it didn't take long before they slaughtered every enemy in the chamber and began pushing them back into the tunnels. Krivax walked over to the tunnel defenders, who were all taking the opportunity to catch their breath, and began drinking a healing potion that he had retrieved from his spatial bag.
It wasn't exactly healthy to continuously use so many alchemical items in such a short amount of time, but he couldn't exactly afford to leave one of his arms broken.
Once the situation was under control, the leader of the War Mages broke off and made his way over to Ansirem before saluting the Archmage. "Sir! I am Arcanist Commander Nathanial Blackwood. I and my men were ordered to provide assistance as soon as the portal was opened and receive a briefing on the mission objectives from the highest-ranking member of the Kirin Tor available."
"Well met, Commander Blackwood. You have no idea how glad we are to see you and your War Mages," Ansirem said in relief before his expression turned to confusion. "I'll give you a briefing as quickly as I can, but I'm somewhat confused. I was under the impression that Archmage Cedric would be the one leading our reinforcements."
Commander Blackwood visibly hesitated for a moment but eventually responded. "Archmage Cedric was called away to assist with some kind of emergency in Capital City. I'm not certain about the details, but some of my mages have heard people saying that the city is under attack. Things were beginning to grow very chaotic once I left, Sir."
Krivax felt his heart drop at the news. It couldn't be the Horde, so Deathwing must have sent whatever Void monster he unleashed to attack Capital City. There wasn't anything that they could do to help, so he simply hoped that Krasus would be able to prevent the monster from causing too many casualties.
"I see. Then we should finish this mission as quickly as possible so that we can return to help Capital City," Ansirem said solemnly. "Listen carefully, Commander. We don't have much time."
Ansirem hurriedly gave the Commander an overview of the situation. He didn't go too deeply into the details, but he explained enough for the Commander to know what needed to be done and the kind of forces that his mages would be facing. Although he was visibly taken aback by what he was hearing, the man was obviously a professional and quickly accepted his circumstances.
"Understood, Sir! My mages and I will help clear you a path to the surface."
Ansirem nodded in approval before responding, "Good. Please do so, Commander. There's no sense in wai—"
Krivax's attention was pulled away from the conversation as the figure of an injured night elf in green clothes stumbled through the portal and into the chamber. The sight initially confused him until he suddenly realized that the night elf must be a green dragon. Krivax looked down and saw that the night elf was grasping tightly onto a black half-broken scale.
One of the nearby mages tried to offer the injured dragon a healing potion, but he quickly brushed them off and used Nature Magic to close his own wounds before turning to address Ansirem. "Greetings mortals. I am Eranikus, consort of Ysera, and I've brought with me one of Deathwing's scales. Have you secured the Dragon Soul?"
"We don't know. Our most powerful members are still on the surface fighting Cho'gall and the black dragons. Cho'gall was still in possession of the Dragon Soul when we were forced to retreat, but that may have changed," Ansirem said solemnly.
"Then we must retrieve it as quickly as possible," said Eranikus, his voice filled with urgency. "Deathwing realized our intentions once I took his scale and began escaping toward the portal. The Aspects are doing everything in their power to hold him off, but he is extremely powerful. I fear that time is not in our favor."
"Understood. The War Mages are already pushing back the Horde and clearing a path, but many of us have been wounded and exhausted. Is there anything that you can do to help?" asked Ansirem, his expression hopeful.
"Much of my magic has been expended, but I should be able to aid you," said Eranikus after a moment of hesitation. The dragon then closed his eyes and began casting a spell that filled the entire chamber with potent nature magic and glitters of moonlight.
Krivax could feel a sense of tranquility flow through him as his aches were washed away and any injuries that he had left were healed. A quick glance confirmed that everyone else was also being healed by Eranikus' magic, much to his amazement. This level far outstripped anything that they would have gotten from a potion and seemed like something that only someone like Archbishop Faol could have done.
After casting the rejuvenation spell, Eranikus immediately slumped over with visible exhaustion. "It is done, mortals. Your wounds should be healed and your stamina restored. I will do my best to assist you in destroying the Dragon Soul, but the majority of the fighting will have to be done by your forces."
Once that was done, Eranikus handed the scale to Ansirem as he intended to help fight the black dragons in his true form once they reached the surface. It would obviously be too much of a risk for them to bring the scale where it could potentially be stolen from them, so it would need to be kept in the tunnels near the surface.
Ansirem thanked the green dragon for his assistance and passed the scale over to Archmage Karlain for safekeeping. He then hurried to organize everyone into two groups.
One group was assigned to stay behind to secure the chamber and another group was assigned to push through the tunnels back toward the surface. It wasn't long after that Krivax was fighting alongside everyone else as they ascended through the tunnels while killing everything that got in their way. With the end of their mission finally in sight the Archmages no longer had any reason to continue conserving their stamina.
The path in front of them turned into a blazing inferno as the mages let loose a constant stream of fire that melted everything in their path. Krivax contributed to this with his geomancy while doing his best to step over the many half-melted corpses that they passed along the way. There were a few ogres who attempted to charge through the inferno, but each of them was swiftly dispatched by a flurry of arcane missiles.
After several minutes of this, Krivax eventually spotted the exit to the surface and heard the loud roars of dragons over the commotion of battle. Once they made the final push and finally stepped foot back into the Twilight Hammer camp, Krivax was greeted by the sight of a hellscape.
Much of the camp had been reduced to rubble and was littered with corpses. Huge portions of it were currently on fire, but everything around Grand Magus Antonidas had been completely flooded by a massive water elemental that was doing its best to drown Onyxia, who was covered with wounds.
Anub'rekhan was glowing brightly with the Light as he continued to trade blows with Nefarian, but one of his arms lay limply to his side and the jormungar had been torn completely in half, its acidic blood pooling on the ground. Nefarian was limping badly and his tail looked crooked.
Sabellian, who was attempting to drown out Prince Kael'thas and Archmage Kel'thuzad in magma, was badly scorched with cracked scales. Prince Kael'thas and Archmage Kel'Thuzad were shielding themselves with powerful arcane wards, but both of them were obviously growing tired.
And to top it all off, there was a massive field of flailing tentacles coming out of the ground in the direction that Krivax had last seen Hadix. He was barely able to sense the occasional flare of arcane magic through the sea of Void magic being produced by whatever Cho'gall had done
"Ansirem, I can sense bursts of magic coming from Vizier Hadix in that direction," said Krivax, pointing toward the tentacles. The rest of the group spread out as they left the tunnels and began taking defensive formations. "If he doesn't already have the Dragon Soul, then it will still be with Cho'gall."
"I agree. Fighting our way through all of that won't be easy, but it needs to be done," said Ansirem after taking a moment to study the Void-corrupted area before turning to the leader of the War Mages. "Commander Blackwood, split up your war mages into two groups. One to defend our rear from the Horde and the other to help us carve a path through those damned tentacles."
"Yes, Sir!"
Before Ansirem could give any more orders, Nefarian suddenly turned his gaze to their group and spotted Eranikus. Deathwing's eldest son let out an earth-shattering roar that was returned in kind when the green dragon shed his mortal guise and flew directly at Nefarian. The Horde forces immediately went into a frenzy as every surviving pale orc, ogre, and Void-corrupted abomination in the camp threw themselves at their group.
"Everyone, move!" Ansirem shouted over the chaos.
Krivax stayed close to the group as they fought their way through a sea of enemies while moving toward the Dragon Soul. He didn't know if the black dragons had been able to guess their plan exactly, but they probably had a good enough idea because all three of them were trying to escape their opponents and intercept their group. Not only that, but the Horde forces fought with a renewed sense of ferocity.
Grand Magus Antonidus, Prince Kael'thas, and Archmage Kel'thuzad all seemed reinvigorated by the reinforcements and started to opportunistically strike at the flying black dragons while also casting wards to protect the assault group. Anub'rekhan used the opportunity to heal himself with the light and charged back to assault the black dragons using his locust swarm.
Krivax froze a Void-corrupted dwarf to the ground as a pale orc leaped over the Dread Stalker in front of him, only to be immediately skewered by Masruk. Not having the opportunity to thank his friend, Krivax threw a spellweave into another group of enemies that caused several icy spikes to erupt from the ground and pierce through their bodies. Krivax cast a second spell that made the spikes forcefully explode and rip apart the nearby orcs with shrapnel.
The Archmages in the group constantly let loose a flurry of devastating spells that helped clear the way as they charged forward. Several of the Dread Stalkers and War Mages were ruthlessly pulled from the formation and torn apart by the enemy within seconds, but nobody allowed the gruesome displays to slow them down.
Once they finally reached the field of flailing tentacles, Magister Rommath summoned a huge phoenix made of fire that flew ahead of them and burned many of the tentacles to ash, only for them to begin growing back almost immediately.
"Move forward, and don't hesitate!" Ansirem called out.
Their group began to take on more casualties almost immediately after they moved into the Void-corrupted area. While the Horde forces were able to move nearly unimpeded, the tentacles attempted to wrap themselves around anyone else who passed by. All the while their minds were attacked constantly by the whispers of the Void. Krivax saw one of the tentacles reach toward one of Masruk's legs and instantly froze it solid before it could get a good grasp.
They eventually succeeded in making their way to a clearing where Hadix and Archmage Modera, both of whom looked as if they were barely keeping themselves upright, were frantically fighting Cho'gall.
The ogre was several feet taller than the last time Krivax had seen him and his body was also covered completely in eyes while his second head screamed constantly in some strange eldritch language. Cho'gall was constantly throwing bolts of Void energy at Hadix as he did his best to smash Modera with his hammer.
Most importantly, Hadix had retrieved the Dragon Soul and fastened it to his abdomen with some of his silk.
"Vizier Hadix!" Krivax called out as he launched a barrage of arcane missiles at Cho'gall, who blocked them with contemptuous ease using a barrier made of Void energy.
The other mages must have taken that as a signal because they then launched their own flurry of spells at Cho'gall, allowing Hadix and Modera to safely break away for a moment and make their way over to the group.
"I'm glad to see that you're still alive, apprentice," said Hadix as soon as he was close enough to be heard. With pleasantries seemingly over with, he then turned his attention to Ansirem. "I assume that you must have secured a fragment of Deathwing, correct?"
"We did. The scale is being held near the entrance to the tunnels," said Ansirem before glancing at the artifact sticking to Hadix's abdomen. "You managed to get the Dragon Soul. Good. I'll leave a few of my men to hold off that monster while you take it to the scale."
"No. Cho'gall is too powerful and your men don't have my experience with fighting the Void," said Hadix as he carefully removed the Dragon Soul and handed it over to Ansirem. "Leave behind one of the Archmages and send the rest to escort this to the tunnels. The faster that it's destroyed, the better."
Without waiting for a response, Hadix left them behind and returned to his fight with Cho'gall. Ansirem ordered Archmage Arugal to assist Hadix and Modera before sending the rest of the group back in the direction that they came. The second trip through the tentacle forest was worse than the first as they had already suffered significant casualties and had one less Archmage to help them keep the path clear.
The most powerful mages that they had left were Ansirem and Magister Rommath, both of whom were starting to grow tired.
"We're nearly there! It's not much farther now!" Ansirem yelled in an attempt to motivate them. The Horde's numbers were beginning to dwindle and the path ahead was clearer than it was previously.
Unfortunately, Nefarian chose that moment to send Eranikus crashing into Anub'rekhan with a swipe of his tail and break away toward them.
Shit!
Krivax felt his life flash before his eyes as Deathwing's eldest son opened his maw and spat a massive stream of lava in their direction that was only barely blocked by an arcane barrier created by Ansirem and Magister Rommath. The two of them visibly struggled against the onslaught, but they succeeded in holding it off once the War Mages added their power.
"Vizier Krivax! Take the Dragon Soul and bring it to Archmage Karlain with the rest of the nerubians!" Ansirem called out, shocking Krivax out of his immobility. "Your people are much faster than the rest of us and have the best chance of making it!"
Krivax very much wanted to argue and question the wisdom of this decision out of fear, but he didn't. There was no time for hesitation.
Instead, he took the Dragon Soul from Ansirem, ignored the powerful ancient magic flowing through the artifact, and began sprinting across the battlefield with Masruk and the remaining Dread Stalkers by his side. Although Viziers weren't quite as fast as the nerubian warrior caste, they were still much faster than any human.
Several orcs attempted to stop them, but their efforts were about as effective as if they had jumped in front of charging cavalry. Onyxia and Sabellian both attempted to intercept them, but the other Archmages didn't allow either one of them to escape.
A two-headed ogre tried to directly throw their body at Krivax to slow him down, which forced him to use his last remaining spellweave. Krivax didn't bother to slow down as the ogre was suddenly teleported a hundred feet into the air before falling to their death.
Just as Krivax was beginning to believe that he would be able to make it unimpeded, he suddenly found himself falling to the ground as Nefarian slammed his tail into the ground and shook the earth. It was only thanks to his own training with geomancy and enhanced reflexes that Krivax was able to leap to the side and avoid being skewered by the massive earth spike that erupted beneath him.
Unfortunately, he wasn't quite quick enough to prevent one of his legs from being crushed by the next one. If it weren't for Anub'rekhan smashing into Nefarian's side horn first, Krivax had no doubt that the next spike would have finished him off. He wished that he could say that he handled losing one of his limbs gracefully, but anyone close enough to hear him scream would have known that was a lie.
Krivax barely managed to fight through the pain and handed the Dragon Soul over to Masruk and sent him off to bring it to Archmage Karlain. His friend hesitated for several long moments, but he eventually ran off toward the tunnels with the Dragon Soul in hand.
Everything after that was a blur as a few of the Dread Stalkers attempted to carry him to safety while tending to the bleeding with healing potions. Krivax was far too distracted by the pain to truly understand what was really going on.
That only changed when a vast wave of magic exploded across the battlefield from the tunnels and the black dragons suddenly roared in maddened fury. Krivax could sense four extremely powerful streams of colorful magic fly up into the air and travel toward the horizon.
We did it…
Krivax regained consciousness as he was pulled aside for healing by Eranikus. From Masruk's relieved and rapid speech, Krivax learned that the black dragons had all successfully retreated shortly after the Dragon Soul was destroyed and everyone else got together and went to face off against Cho'gall. The ogre had lasted longer than expected, but there was no way that he could survive against such powerful enemies on his own.
His end came ingloriously as he was skewered and dismembered.
Hadix insisted on removing both of the ogre's mutated heads and burning every inch of Cho'gall to ash. According to him, creatures that had been corrupted by the Void to such an extent had a tendency to survive even the most deadly of wounds and he didn't want to risk leaving anything behind.
Once their wounded had been healed enough that they were out of immediate danger, the group gradually began retreating to the portal. The destruction of the Dragon Soul had done nothing to deter the Horde from wanting to tear them all to pieces and so they needed to make a hasty retreat.
"Rest apprentice. Your part in this is done," said Hadix as he carried Krivax to the portal on a floating platform of arcane magic.
Seeing no reason to disagree, Krivax stopped fighting to stay alert and allowed himself to slip back into unconsciousness.
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They never look up.
The moment that they passed under him, Krivax dropped down from the ceiling and landed directly on top of the rearmost orc. While he mainly relied on magic when it came to combat, that didn't change the fact that Krivax was a ten-foot-tall spider person that weighed more than three hundred pounds. When the sharp ends of his sleek spider legs struck the orc's skull, it immediately pierced through and the orc fell dead onto the ground. He immediately followed up his surprise assault by casting a wave of ice around him that rooted the remaining orcs to the ground before quickly impaling them with frozen spikes.
Krivax was already running down the tunnel before the final orc's body even hit the ground.
I need to get back to the group!
After the tunnel entrance team had retreated underground, the battle continued to go well for them at first. Their traps had ripped the orcs apart and they easily turned the tunnels into a killing field that the Horde was unable to overcome. Everything had gone exactly according to plan… until it became clear that the ambient Void was making it far more difficult for Crinis to open a portal than expected.
They had many powerful mages in their group, but their stamina wasn't inexhaustible and the Horde was proving to be utterly relentless. Their group had begun taking their first casualties when a two-headed ogre had unexpectedly thrown a massive fireball into a group of exhausted Dread Stalkers. After that, they fell back to a secondary defensive position until they eventually lost Archmage Drenden to the unending flood of orcs, ogres, and void creatures.
The Archmage had taken down many orcs with him, but his final spell also collapsed the tunnel and ended up separating Krivax from the rest of the group. His only saving grace was that the jormungar had dug out several paths leading to the main chamber and that his knowledge of geomancy helped him to remove minor obstructions in the tunnels. Otherwise, Krivax would have probably found himself stuck with no way to get out.
He had spent the past few minutes frantically running toward the nearest sounds of battle and fighting off any enemy that he came across. Fortunately, Krivax was confident that he was now fairly close to his allies.
He was proven right as he turned around the next corner and noticed the few Dread Stalkers hanging from the ceiling, prepared to ambush anything that came through the tunnel. Krivax nodded to them in acknowledgment and relief as he made his way into the main chamber and swiftly took in the state of the group.
Several Dread Stalkers and Viziers were in position on the ceilings around the other tunnel entrance while Archmage Karlain and Archmage Arugal cast deadly area-of-effect spells at groups of incoming enemies from range. The other mages and fighters were taking the respite to tend to their wounds with healing potions and recovering their stamina. From what he could tell, Archmage Ansirem was speaking intensely with Vizier Crinis to figure out how much longer it would take for her to open the portal.
The chamber itself was covered completely in arcane glyphs related to spatial magic, and Krivax could sense dense arcane energies flowing through and around Crinis, even as she spoke to Ansirem.
Krivax was suddenly pulled from his thoughts when he noticed the familiar face of Masruk, who was currently tending to a wound on his abdomen. He immediately made his way over to his friend and began examining his body for injuries. "Masruk! Are you hurt? How bad is it?"
"Krivax. You survived," said Masruk, voice filled with relief. "I feared the worst when the tunnels collapsed, but I'm happy to see that you're well. My wounds are minor, merely a few cracks in my carapace that should disappear quickly once treated with a healing potion."
Krivax only relaxed when he saw that his friend was not downplaying his injuries. "That's good. I'm glad to see that you're alright as well. How bad is the current situation? I can see that we lost a few more Dread Stalkers while I was gone. Is there any news about the fight above? I hope that Vizier Hadix will be able to get his hands on the Dragon Soul soon."
"These orcs are as fearsome as Anub'rekhan told us," Masruk admitted with grudging respect. "Their attacks have been ceaseless despite their immense casualties, and our forces are slowly being exhausted. Vizier Saltik was lost to a sudden attack by a group of ogres. I hope that Vizier Crinis will be able to open the portal soon so that we can receive reinforcements, or make a hasty retreat if necessary."
"Vizier Crinis' best estimate is that she should be done within the next ten minutes," Archmage Ansirem announced to the mages and fighters in the cavern, nodding to Krivax as he walked over to the two of them. "Krivax, I'm relieved to see that you survived the tunnel collapse.
"Thank you, Ansirem. Do you think we'll be able to hold out long enough for Crinis to finish her casting?" Krivax asked worriedly.
"Almost certainly. Our group includes many powerful individuals and the Horde forces are significantly restricted by the tunnels," Ansirem answered reassuringly before his expression turned grim. "There may be more casualties and the constant stream of attacks will wear us down. Even after the portal is opened, we'll need to fight our way back to the surface, which won't be easy. I want all fighters and mages to rotate in and out of combat to conserve our stamina."
"I see. Do we have any plans for that when the time comes?" asked Krivax, glancing toward the group that was still defending the tunnels. He sincerely doubted that they would be able to push back the Horde with just their current forces.
"We do. Archmage Karlain has been saving a few of his more potent alchemical concoctions. I'm also hoping that whichever dragon comes to deliver the fragment of Deathwing will be able to help," said Ansirem, causing Krivax to let out a breath of relief. "But enough of that. Anyone who has recovered should join the group at the tunnel entrance. I suspect that the black dragons can sense Vizier Crinis' casting nearing completion, and are likely to send even more of their forces to stop us."
Krivax nodded to Ansirem and began making his way with Masruk at his side over to the tunnel entrance to join the rest of the defenders. After taking a moment to create a few webs that he could use to climb up to the ceiling if he needed to, he took position next to the other mages. Krivax immediately launched a bolt of ice at one of the orcs in the distance, only to let out a grunt of frustration when the creature hid behind one of the corpses littering the tunnel.
I'm really glad I can't smell anything through the wards. All of these corpses must smell absolutely disgusting…
Krivax lost himself in the rhythm of battle as a constant stream of Horde forces made their way down the tunnels.
The nerubians frequently used the terrain to their advantage, causing stone spikes to erupt from the sides with their geomancy and using their webs to slow down the enemy's advance. Whenever the Horde grew too numerous, Archmage Karlain threw out some kind of terrifying alchemical bomb to kill large numbers of them, which were doubly effective within the close confines of the tunnel. One seemed to release a lingering gas that turned any flesh that it touched into stone while another released a burst of arcane energy that caused violet crystals to grow from the enemy's bodies. At one point, Ansirem pulled out a gem from his spatial bag that produced a thin beam of fire that melted through an ogre's torso, quickly bisecting it.
Archmages are really scary, Krivax thought to himself as he threw a ball of silk at an orc that immediately exploded with arcane energy and blew a hole in its chest.
Despite this, the Horde's assault started to increase in intensity. When a group of two-headed ogres began charging down the tunnel with a flood of orcs following behind them, Krivax gulped nervously and felt his hands start to shake. Many of the orcs were killed by a particularly nasty geomancy spell that shredded them with a volley of rocks that tore through them like bullets, but the ogres protected themselves with crudely made arcane barriers. Unfortunately, one of them got close enough to hit their front lines with a massive burst of arcane magic that sent a few of the Dread Stalkers flying and knocked Krivax to the ground.
Krivax pulled himself together just in time to see one of the two-headed ogres snarling down at him and swinging its enormous club at his side. Taking full advantage of his alchemically enhanced reaction time, Krivax quickly created a barrier of ice around his body that was promptly smashed apart as he was knocked several feet back.
Thankfully, the protective bracelet that was given to him by Hadix as well as his highly enchanted robes meant that the blow merely broke the carapace on one of his arms rather than turn him into nerubian paste.
The chamber had broken out into a disorganized free-for-all. Krivax briefly glanced around him to keep track of any other opponents near him, before turning his full attention back to the ogre. He was confident that the Archmages and Dread Stalkers would be able to kill off the enemy eventually and restore order, but he couldn't afford to allow himself to become distracted.
As the ogre charged at him, Krivax turned the ground beneath their feet into thick mud and launched a lance of ice at their knee once they began to sink down. The spell accurately hit the target and the two-headed ogre bellowed in pain as the magic pierced their knee and froze the mud around their leg.
Before Krivax could celebrate, the two-headed ogre launched a missile of arcane energy in his direction and easily pulled its leg from the frozen earth with an impressive display of strength. Surprised by the unexpected attack, Krivax frantically created a barrier of stone and ice to block the arcane missile and only barely had enough time to jump back as the ogre swung his club at his head.
The ogre attempted to chase after him, but Krivax took advantage of his superior maneuverability to climb up a nearby web and avoid the creature. Once he wasn't in imminent danger of being smashed to pieces, Krivax reached to his abdomen and grabbed one of his spellweaves.
Let's see how well this one works…
Once the ogre had drawn close enough, Krivax channeled his magic through the silk and activated the spellweave. A large net of silk immediately erupted from his hand and wrapped itself around the ogre's entire body before beginning to glow with arcane magic. Krivax watched as the ogre's flesh turned gray as all of the heat was sucked out of its body and funneled into the net wrapped around its body.
Not bad.
While the spellweave wasn't one that Krivax had invented himself, it was still fairly advanced and it had taken him a decent amount of time to properly learn it. Once the victim was ensnared by the web, it was extremely difficult for them to free themselves in time as they lost energy and were rapidly frozen solid.
Confident that the ogre wouldn't be escaping, Krivax turned his attention to the rest of the battlefield. Both of the other ogres had already been killed by the Archmages and the rest of the Horde was in the process of being pushed back. A few of the Dread Stalkers had been killed, but Masruk looked to be alright and was currently spearing through a Void-corrupted monster that had jumped at Archmage Karlain.
Krivax was just about to join them when his attention was suddenly drawn to Vizier Crinis as a massive pulse of arcane magic flowed through the chamber.
Finally!
Krivax felt a surge of relief as several squads of Kirin Tor War Mages immediately poured through the portal and joined the fight. The War Mages were both experienced and well-rested, so it didn't take long before they slaughtered every enemy in the chamber and began pushing them back into the tunnels. Krivax walked over to the tunnel defenders, who were all taking the opportunity to catch their breath, and began drinking a healing potion that he had retrieved from his spatial bag.
It wasn't exactly healthy to continuously use so many alchemical items in such a short amount of time, but he couldn't exactly afford to leave one of his arms broken.
Once the situation was under control, the leader of the War Mages broke off and made his way over to Ansirem before saluting the Archmage. "Sir! I am Arcanist Commander Nathanial Blackwood. I and my men were ordered to provide assistance as soon as the portal was opened and receive a briefing on the mission objectives from the highest-ranking member of the Kirin Tor available."
"Well met, Commander Blackwood. You have no idea how glad we are to see you and your War Mages," Ansirem said in relief before his expression turned to confusion. "I'll give you a briefing as quickly as I can, but I'm somewhat confused. I was under the impression that Archmage Cedric would be the one leading our reinforcements."
Commander Blackwood visibly hesitated for a moment but eventually responded. "Archmage Cedric was called away to assist with some kind of emergency in Capital City. I'm not certain about the details, but some of my mages have heard people saying that the city is under attack. Things were beginning to grow very chaotic once I left, Sir."
Krivax felt his heart drop at the news. It couldn't be the Horde, so Deathwing must have sent whatever Void monster he unleashed to attack Capital City. There wasn't anything that they could do to help, so he simply hoped that Krasus would be able to prevent the monster from causing too many casualties.
"I see. Then we should finish this mission as quickly as possible so that we can return to help Capital City," Ansirem said solemnly. "Listen carefully, Commander. We don't have much time."
Ansirem hurriedly gave the Commander an overview of the situation. He didn't go too deeply into the details, but he explained enough for the Commander to know what needed to be done and the kind of forces that his mages would be facing. Although he was visibly taken aback by what he was hearing, the man was obviously a professional and quickly accepted his circumstances.
"Understood, Sir! My mages and I will help clear you a path to the surface."
Ansirem nodded in approval before responding, "Good. Please do so, Commander. There's no sense in wai—"
Krivax's attention was pulled away from the conversation as the figure of an injured night elf in green clothes stumbled through the portal and into the chamber. The sight initially confused him until he suddenly realized that the night elf must be a green dragon. Krivax looked down and saw that the night elf was grasping tightly onto a black half-broken scale.
One of the nearby mages tried to offer the injured dragon a healing potion, but he quickly brushed them off and used Nature Magic to close his own wounds before turning to address Ansirem. "Greetings mortals. I am Eranikus, consort of Ysera, and I've brought with me one of Deathwing's scales. Have you secured the Dragon Soul?"
"We don't know. Our most powerful members are still on the surface fighting Cho'gall and the black dragons. Cho'gall was still in possession of the Dragon Soul when we were forced to retreat, but that may have changed," Ansirem said solemnly.
"Then we must retrieve it as quickly as possible," said Eranikus, his voice filled with urgency. "Deathwing realized our intentions once I took his scale and began escaping toward the portal. The Aspects are doing everything in their power to hold him off, but he is extremely powerful. I fear that time is not in our favor."
"Understood. The War Mages are already pushing back the Horde and clearing a path, but many of us have been wounded and exhausted. Is there anything that you can do to help?" asked Ansirem, his expression hopeful.
"Much of my magic has been expended, but I should be able to aid you," said Eranikus after a moment of hesitation. The dragon then closed his eyes and began casting a spell that filled the entire chamber with potent nature magic and glitters of moonlight.
Krivax could feel a sense of tranquility flow through him as his aches were washed away and any injuries that he had left were healed. A quick glance confirmed that everyone else was also being healed by Eranikus' magic, much to his amazement. This level far outstripped anything that they would have gotten from a potion and seemed like something that only someone like Archbishop Faol could have done.
After casting the rejuvenation spell, Eranikus immediately slumped over with visible exhaustion. "It is done, mortals. Your wounds should be healed and your stamina restored. I will do my best to assist you in destroying the Dragon Soul, but the majority of the fighting will have to be done by your forces."
Once that was done, Eranikus handed the scale to Ansirem as he intended to help fight the black dragons in his true form once they reached the surface. It would obviously be too much of a risk for them to bring the scale where it could potentially be stolen from them, so it would need to be kept in the tunnels near the surface.
Ansirem thanked the green dragon for his assistance and passed the scale over to Archmage Karlain for safekeeping. He then hurried to organize everyone into two groups.
One group was assigned to stay behind to secure the chamber and another group was assigned to push through the tunnels back toward the surface. It wasn't long after that Krivax was fighting alongside everyone else as they ascended through the tunnels while killing everything that got in their way. With the end of their mission finally in sight the Archmages no longer had any reason to continue conserving their stamina.
The path in front of them turned into a blazing inferno as the mages let loose a constant stream of fire that melted everything in their path. Krivax contributed to this with his geomancy while doing his best to step over the many half-melted corpses that they passed along the way. There were a few ogres who attempted to charge through the inferno, but each of them was swiftly dispatched by a flurry of arcane missiles.
After several minutes of this, Krivax eventually spotted the exit to the surface and heard the loud roars of dragons over the commotion of battle. Once they made the final push and finally stepped foot back into the Twilight Hammer camp, Krivax was greeted by the sight of a hellscape.
Much of the camp had been reduced to rubble and was littered with corpses. Huge portions of it were currently on fire, but everything around Grand Magus Antonidas had been completely flooded by a massive water elemental that was doing its best to drown Onyxia, who was covered with wounds.
Anub'rekhan was glowing brightly with the Light as he continued to trade blows with Nefarian, but one of his arms lay limply to his side and the jormungar had been torn completely in half, its acidic blood pooling on the ground. Nefarian was limping badly and his tail looked crooked.
Sabellian, who was attempting to drown out Prince Kael'thas and Archmage Kel'thuzad in magma, was badly scorched with cracked scales. Prince Kael'thas and Archmage Kel'Thuzad were shielding themselves with powerful arcane wards, but both of them were obviously growing tired.
And to top it all off, there was a massive field of flailing tentacles coming out of the ground in the direction that Krivax had last seen Hadix. He was barely able to sense the occasional flare of arcane magic through the sea of Void magic being produced by whatever Cho'gall had done
"Ansirem, I can sense bursts of magic coming from Vizier Hadix in that direction," said Krivax, pointing toward the tentacles. The rest of the group spread out as they left the tunnels and began taking defensive formations. "If he doesn't already have the Dragon Soul, then it will still be with Cho'gall."
"I agree. Fighting our way through all of that won't be easy, but it needs to be done," said Ansirem after taking a moment to study the Void-corrupted area before turning to the leader of the War Mages. "Commander Blackwood, split up your war mages into two groups. One to defend our rear from the Horde and the other to help us carve a path through those damned tentacles."
"Yes, Sir!"
Before Ansirem could give any more orders, Nefarian suddenly turned his gaze to their group and spotted Eranikus. Deathwing's eldest son let out an earth-shattering roar that was returned in kind when the green dragon shed his mortal guise and flew directly at Nefarian. The Horde forces immediately went into a frenzy as every surviving pale orc, ogre, and Void-corrupted abomination in the camp threw themselves at their group.
"Everyone, move!" Ansirem shouted over the chaos.
Krivax stayed close to the group as they fought their way through a sea of enemies while moving toward the Dragon Soul. He didn't know if the black dragons had been able to guess their plan exactly, but they probably had a good enough idea because all three of them were trying to escape their opponents and intercept their group. Not only that, but the Horde forces fought with a renewed sense of ferocity.
Grand Magus Antonidus, Prince Kael'thas, and Archmage Kel'thuzad all seemed reinvigorated by the reinforcements and started to opportunistically strike at the flying black dragons while also casting wards to protect the assault group. Anub'rekhan used the opportunity to heal himself with the light and charged back to assault the black dragons using his locust swarm.
Krivax froze a Void-corrupted dwarf to the ground as a pale orc leaped over the Dread Stalker in front of him, only to be immediately skewered by Masruk. Not having the opportunity to thank his friend, Krivax threw a spellweave into another group of enemies that caused several icy spikes to erupt from the ground and pierce through their bodies. Krivax cast a second spell that made the spikes forcefully explode and rip apart the nearby orcs with shrapnel.
The Archmages in the group constantly let loose a flurry of devastating spells that helped clear the way as they charged forward. Several of the Dread Stalkers and War Mages were ruthlessly pulled from the formation and torn apart by the enemy within seconds, but nobody allowed the gruesome displays to slow them down.
Once they finally reached the field of flailing tentacles, Magister Rommath summoned a huge phoenix made of fire that flew ahead of them and burned many of the tentacles to ash, only for them to begin growing back almost immediately.
"Move forward, and don't hesitate!" Ansirem called out.
Their group began to take on more casualties almost immediately after they moved into the Void-corrupted area. While the Horde forces were able to move nearly unimpeded, the tentacles attempted to wrap themselves around anyone else who passed by. All the while their minds were attacked constantly by the whispers of the Void. Krivax saw one of the tentacles reach toward one of Masruk's legs and instantly froze it solid before it could get a good grasp.
They eventually succeeded in making their way to a clearing where Hadix and Archmage Modera, both of whom looked as if they were barely keeping themselves upright, were frantically fighting Cho'gall.
The ogre was several feet taller than the last time Krivax had seen him and his body was also covered completely in eyes while his second head screamed constantly in some strange eldritch language. Cho'gall was constantly throwing bolts of Void energy at Hadix as he did his best to smash Modera with his hammer.
Most importantly, Hadix had retrieved the Dragon Soul and fastened it to his abdomen with some of his silk.
"Vizier Hadix!" Krivax called out as he launched a barrage of arcane missiles at Cho'gall, who blocked them with contemptuous ease using a barrier made of Void energy.
The other mages must have taken that as a signal because they then launched their own flurry of spells at Cho'gall, allowing Hadix and Modera to safely break away for a moment and make their way over to the group.
"I'm glad to see that you're still alive, apprentice," said Hadix as soon as he was close enough to be heard. With pleasantries seemingly over with, he then turned his attention to Ansirem. "I assume that you must have secured a fragment of Deathwing, correct?"
"We did. The scale is being held near the entrance to the tunnels," said Ansirem before glancing at the artifact sticking to Hadix's abdomen. "You managed to get the Dragon Soul. Good. I'll leave a few of my men to hold off that monster while you take it to the scale."
"No. Cho'gall is too powerful and your men don't have my experience with fighting the Void," said Hadix as he carefully removed the Dragon Soul and handed it over to Ansirem. "Leave behind one of the Archmages and send the rest to escort this to the tunnels. The faster that it's destroyed, the better."
Without waiting for a response, Hadix left them behind and returned to his fight with Cho'gall. Ansirem ordered Archmage Arugal to assist Hadix and Modera before sending the rest of the group back in the direction that they came. The second trip through the tentacle forest was worse than the first as they had already suffered significant casualties and had one less Archmage to help them keep the path clear.
The most powerful mages that they had left were Ansirem and Magister Rommath, both of whom were starting to grow tired.
"We're nearly there! It's not much farther now!" Ansirem yelled in an attempt to motivate them. The Horde's numbers were beginning to dwindle and the path ahead was clearer than it was previously.
Unfortunately, Nefarian chose that moment to send Eranikus crashing into Anub'rekhan with a swipe of his tail and break away toward them.
Shit!
Krivax felt his life flash before his eyes as Deathwing's eldest son opened his maw and spat a massive stream of lava in their direction that was only barely blocked by an arcane barrier created by Ansirem and Magister Rommath. The two of them visibly struggled against the onslaught, but they succeeded in holding it off once the War Mages added their power.
"Vizier Krivax! Take the Dragon Soul and bring it to Archmage Karlain with the rest of the nerubians!" Ansirem called out, shocking Krivax out of his immobility. "Your people are much faster than the rest of us and have the best chance of making it!"
Krivax very much wanted to argue and question the wisdom of this decision out of fear, but he didn't. There was no time for hesitation.
Instead, he took the Dragon Soul from Ansirem, ignored the powerful ancient magic flowing through the artifact, and began sprinting across the battlefield with Masruk and the remaining Dread Stalkers by his side. Although Viziers weren't quite as fast as the nerubian warrior caste, they were still much faster than any human.
Several orcs attempted to stop them, but their efforts were about as effective as if they had jumped in front of charging cavalry. Onyxia and Sabellian both attempted to intercept them, but the other Archmages didn't allow either one of them to escape.
A two-headed ogre tried to directly throw their body at Krivax to slow him down, which forced him to use his last remaining spellweave. Krivax didn't bother to slow down as the ogre was suddenly teleported a hundred feet into the air before falling to their death.
Just as Krivax was beginning to believe that he would be able to make it unimpeded, he suddenly found himself falling to the ground as Nefarian slammed his tail into the ground and shook the earth. It was only thanks to his own training with geomancy and enhanced reflexes that Krivax was able to leap to the side and avoid being skewered by the massive earth spike that erupted beneath him.
Unfortunately, he wasn't quite quick enough to prevent one of his legs from being crushed by the next one. If it weren't for Anub'rekhan smashing into Nefarian's side horn first, Krivax had no doubt that the next spike would have finished him off. He wished that he could say that he handled losing one of his limbs gracefully, but anyone close enough to hear him scream would have known that was a lie.
Krivax barely managed to fight through the pain and handed the Dragon Soul over to Masruk and sent him off to bring it to Archmage Karlain. His friend hesitated for several long moments, but he eventually ran off toward the tunnels with the Dragon Soul in hand.
Everything after that was a blur as a few of the Dread Stalkers attempted to carry him to safety while tending to the bleeding with healing potions. Krivax was far too distracted by the pain to truly understand what was really going on.
That only changed when a vast wave of magic exploded across the battlefield from the tunnels and the black dragons suddenly roared in maddened fury. Krivax could sense four extremely powerful streams of colorful magic fly up into the air and travel toward the horizon.
We did it…
Krivax regained consciousness as he was pulled aside for healing by Eranikus. From Masruk's relieved and rapid speech, Krivax learned that the black dragons had all successfully retreated shortly after the Dragon Soul was destroyed and everyone else got together and went to face off against Cho'gall. The ogre had lasted longer than expected, but there was no way that he could survive against such powerful enemies on his own.
His end came ingloriously as he was skewered and dismembered.
Hadix insisted on removing both of the ogre's mutated heads and burning every inch of Cho'gall to ash. According to him, creatures that had been corrupted by the Void to such an extent had a tendency to survive even the most deadly of wounds and he didn't want to risk leaving anything behind.
Once their wounded had been healed enough that they were out of immediate danger, the group gradually began retreating to the portal. The destruction of the Dragon Soul had done nothing to deter the Horde from wanting to tear them all to pieces and so they needed to make a hasty retreat.
"Rest apprentice. Your part in this is done," said Hadix as he carried Krivax to the portal on a floating platform of arcane magic.
Seeing no reason to disagree, Krivax stopped fighting to stay alert and allowed himself to slip back into unconsciousness.
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xbox432
Lover of Editing
An epic end to the battle. There were losses, but they managed to succeed. Now it just remains to be seen if the Aspects managed to kill Deathwing, or if he escaped liked his children. Also, ayyyy! Looks like Masruk came in clutch for this quest! That's gonna look good on his resume going forward. 
JmonsterNEO
Spouter of nonsense
- Location
- The quest forums
It was a fucking tough fight, but the mission succeeded in the end. The Aspects are back at full power and will be able to overpower Deathwing. And the Dragon Soul is no more. And all with only a few losses! I think this can be called a decisive win!
Mechasaurian
Big Bossu
- Location
- Lost among fields of history
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Just came back to this fic after a while.
I have to wonder why the kingdoms of the Alliance are willing to believe the Nerubian delegation, and/or how that spymaster was able to find that information.
Azjol-Nerub was previously completely invisible to the world, and the Nerubian delegation can be counted on one hand. Based on what the Alliance can see, the Nerubians could genuinely be the vast developed polity they claim to be, they could be a small to mid sized kingdom telling tall tales to seem more impressive than they really are, or they could be a tiny tribe on the edge of the world with delusions of grandeur.
As near as I can tell it is a combo of a few different things.
First the silk they produce is hugely valueable for having the protectiveness of chainmail but being able to be used by wizards.
Secondly they have testimony from trusted sources that the nerubians have at least one massive underground city, where they produce silk in large enough amounts to suspend entire buildings in midair.
Thirdly they gave the captain a chest full of gold and jewels as referred to it as "a pittance"
While they could believe it is just that one city they shouldn't just discount the story as a whole out of hand, and it's possible that one of the ways they checked was by sending deniable assets to each of the areas they were told not to enter on pain of death, given the nerubians were not bluffing they likely know the nerubians can build and maintain fortifications in a bunch of disparate places all over northrend, implying they either have some way to move stuff all over the continent extremely rapidly or don't need to move much because they are already present all over the continent.
Chapter 50
Malygos hurried to form an arcane shield around his body as he was violently knocked out of the sky and sent hurtling toward the ground. On top of this shield, he quickly layered a heat-resistant ward to protect himself from the molten landscape that had replaced the stretch of land that had once been filled with forests.
Malygos crashed down into the ruined earth and quickly teleported away to avoid being skewered as Neltharion caused a massive stone spike to erupt where he had landed. He then warped the space around him so that the stream of Void-infused lava directed to where he reappeared twisted around him instead of burning him alive.
Manipulating space was significantly more difficult with the high density of Void energy in the area, but Malygos was the Aspect of Magic. If they were still at an earlier part of their confrontation with Deathwing, he would have likely made the effort to taunt his corrupted brother, but Malygos had to devote all of his focus to just surviving.
It had been easier at first when Neltharion had not fully understood what was happening and was still toying with them. Malygos and his siblings had focused their efforts on finding an opening that they could use to tear off a fragment of Neltharion, but they hadn't initially been able to find one.
Things started to get worse once whatever Void monstrosity Neltharion unleashed began causing a significant number of mortal deaths, successfully distracting Alexstrasza and her consorts. It was only when a powerful beacon of Light had flared up in the sky and vanquished Neltharion's monstrosity, momentarily diverting his attention, that they were able to find an opening.
Alexstrasza's eldest consort, Tyranastrasz, had immediately snapped his jaws around Neltharion's leg to hold him in place, which had allowed Malygos to launch himself onto the corrupted Aspect's back. He had then unleashed a massive explosion of arcane magic that devastated everything in the vicinity and successfully tore a scale from Neltharion's back.
After Ysera's consort promptly grabbed it and took it toward the portal, their intentions had been extremely obvious. Neltharion no longer hesitated with his attacks from that moment forward.
Malygos could still hear Alexstrasza's pain-filled scream as her eldest consort's head was ripped from his body and his corpse was thrown into a newly formed river of lava.
Neltharion's subsequent rampage had upended the earth for miles around, and likely caused quakes that could be felt throughout the northern portion of Tirisfal Glades.
It had taken everything that Malygos and his siblings had to avoid being killed. With most of their power still being held in the Dragon Soul, they were all significantly weaker than Neltharion, as much as it galled him to admit.
Malygos watched as an emerald green portal appeared behind Neltharion and several enormous vines emerged from it and wrapped themselves around the corrupted Aspect, interrupting his attack. Neltharion had most likely destroyed the land with the intention of distributing Ysera's nature magic, but she was no common druid.
Unfortunately, it only took a few moments for Neltharion to break free in an explosion of Void magic that mutated and killed the vines holding him. Malygos summoned hundreds of arcane missiles that struck Neltharion from every direction, but the hateful bastard merely ignored them and stepped through the Void to appear behind him in an instant.
It was only due to the fact that Nozdormu had predicted the attack and slowed down Neltharion's claws that Malygos managed to avoid having his throat ripped open.
Just as Malygos teleported away, Alexstrasza unleashed a massive ball of fire infused with life magic that tore through the Void surrounding Neltharion and actually made him stagger.
How much longer are those mortals going to take?!
"Your efforts are worthless! The Titans have abandoned us and the Void's domination over this world is inevitable!" Neltharion roared as he launched ravenous torrents of Void toward each of the Aspects. "Do you truly believe this world can defend itself from the forces that wish to control it?! From the Old Gods? From the Burning Legion? Your stubborn loyalty to absent gods serves to help nobody!"
Malygos ignored Neltharion's insane ramblings and immediately breathed out a wave of pure arcane magic that only barely succeeded in pushing back the Void. In order to buy enough time for him and his siblings to regroup, he instantly created several dozen illusions in the air of each Aspect while simultaneously turning himself, his siblings, and the remaining consorts invisible. All it took to bait the corrupted Aspect into focusing on the illusions was a quick application of telekinesis when one of Alexstrasza's illusions attacked Neltharion's back.
Malygos left Neltharion to his impotent rampage as he flew toward the rest of his siblings.
"I'm not certain how much longer we can keep this up," said Ysera, her voice filled with exhaustion. "Nothing that we do to him seems to have any permanent effect. I had forgotten how much weaker we became when we lost the power bestowed on us by the Titans."
"Ten thousand years is long enough for even us to grow accustomed to something," said Alexstrasza as she began healing their wounds by directing Life-imbued flames toward their bodies. Even as his stamina was restored, Malygos felt a tinge of sympathy as he heard the barely contained grief still in her voice. "We will last for as long as we must. There's nothing else to be done."
"How much longer do we have to wait, Nozdormu?" questioned Malygos, glaring at his brother. "Ysera's consort should have delivered the scale to them by now. Are those mortals actually going to succeed in destroying that cursed artifact, or are we simply wasting our time?"
"We won't have to wait for much longer," Nozdormu said with infuriating calmness. "The Void is going to great lengths to obscure my vision by drowning me in possible futures, but the Timeways have been solidifying toward a favorable outcome."
"And if you're wrong?" Maylgos asked challengingly.
"I have been before, but I doubt that is the case now. I'm confident everything will unfold as it should," said Nozdormu, his eyes gazing off into the distance in the same way they always did whenever he was looking into the Timeways. "Though if I am wrong, then I suppose Azeroth's fate will be a dire one, so let's hope that isn't the case."
As usual, Malygos found himself annoyed by Nozdormu's perpetual lack of concern. Unfortunately, he didn't have enough time to continue questioning the Aspect of Time, because Neltharion seemed to lose patience with the illusions before he could.
Malygos winced in pain at the magical backlash as all of his illusions were destroyed by the explosive burst of Void energy released by Neltharion. The Void assaulted his mind and ripped apart the spell hiding himself and the other Aspects seconds before Neltharion was launching himself at them while screaming more of his insane ramblings.
I hope this works.
Despite how it might have seemed to his siblings, Malygos hadn't only spent the past few minutes recovering, but also preparing his unconventional attack. Throughout the entire fight, he had been gradually funneling his magic deep into the closest leyline and slowly seized control of its energies. It was only in the past few minutes that Malygos had taken enough control that he could successfully implement his plan. Such a thing would normally be impossible for even the most powerful of mages, but there was not a single soul on Azeroth more familiar with the world's leylines than Malygos.
Just as Neltharion was about to reach them, Malygos pulled against the arcane magic flowing through the earth with all of his magical might.
Suddenly, with a deafening roar, the land beneath them shuddered and cracked as the leyline erupted upwards and unleashed an unfathomable amount of arcane energy that could likely be seen from miles around directly at Neltharion. Malygos was filled with malicious glee as his corrupted brother screamed in pain at the constant torrent of arcane energy ripping into his body and launching him half a mile away.
He knew that this wouldn't be enough to kill Neltharion, but it should be enough to buy them all some time until the Dragon Soul was destroyed.
"Malygos, what did you do?" Alexstrasza asked in astonishment.
"We never had any chance to defeat him in a straight fight. That being the case, it should be obvious that I would plan something like this," said Malygos, feeling more than a little smug. "A quick look at the Arcanomicon revealed to me that Neltharion had positioned his manor over a decently sized leyline. It was never something that I needed to do before, but it wasn't difficult for me to devise a way to uproot one and direct its power elsewhere."
"Won't something like this cause long-term consequences for the region?" asked Ysera, observing the results of Malygos' actions with curiosity. Even now, arcane crystals were beginning to emerge from the lava-covered landscape as the leyline's energies spilled out onto the surface.
"Perhaps, but if the mortals succeed in destroying the Dragon Soul, then I will have my powers restored and I'll be able to fix the problem at a later time," Malygos said dismissively. "Besides, this should be enough to grant us the time we need."
Unfortunately, it seemed like Neltharion loved nothing more than to make Malygos look foolish. Seconds after he finished speaking, the mountain that Neltharion had been launched into exploded as the corrupted Aspect reemerged.
Pieces of his body seemed to have cracked open, revealing streams of magma flowing beneath his skin. His eyes were completely aflame and he glared at Malygos with unending hatred.
It reminded him too much of how Neltharion looked when he had betrayed them all during the War of the Ancients, and Malygos barely prevented himself from losing his mind in an unwelcome depressive spiral. He also noticed that Neltharion's body had begun to twist and deform as he pulled deeper from the Void, causing strange writhing appendages to emerge from random locations.
A part of Malygos expected Neltharion to continue his demented ravings, but that didn't happen. Instead, Neltharion let out a guttural roar that echoed throughout the ravaged landscape to announce his unrelenting fury. The corrupted Aspected surged toward them with renewed ferocity, his molten body glowing brightly as he flew through the air.
Neltharion's following onslaught was relentless. He tore through any barrier that Malygos could conjure as if they were mere annoyances and barreled through Ysera's conjured vines like they didn't exist. Nozdormu focused on creating openings wherever he could and slowing down Neltharion when he came close to landing a lethal blow, but Malygos could tell that his efforts were gradually growing less effective. If Alexstrasza had not been constantly healing them, there was no doubt that Neltharion would have killed them all within a few minutes.
Malygos winced as a jagged shard of molten rock pierced through his wing, the heat searing his flesh. Holding himself aloft with magic, he pushed the pain aside and focused entirely on the battle. Another one of Alexstrasza's consorts had been incapacitated and knocked out of the sky as his wings were ripped from his body.
Just as Malygos was beginning to believe that none of them were going to survive to see the next day, his attention was drawn to the sound of Nozdormu releasing a breath of relief. Before Malygos could question his brother, his attention was suddenly drawn to the feeling of familiar thick ribbons of magic headed toward them from the east.
Judging by the sudden hush that had fallen over the battlefield, Malygos wasn't the only one to sense what had happened.
"No!"
Neltharion's roar was filled with a mix of rage and disbelief as a pulse of magical energy swept through the land. The Dragon Soul had been destroyed, and the power that had been stolen from the Aspects was returning to them.
Malygos watched as the four streams of power connected and strengthened them in ways that they had not felt for millennia, healing their wounds, and empowering them to great heights
I almost forgot what this felt like, Malygos thought as the strength bestowed upon him by the titans surged through his body.
Seeing no reason to wait for his siblings to adjust to their regained power, Malygos instantly created a powerful ward around the battlefield before anyone could react. Space twisted inward as everything within the ward was suddenly trapped in an isolated bubble of reality from which nothing could escape.
Neltharion was instantly snapped out of his disbelief as he sensed what Malygos had done and turned his gaze toward the Aspect of Magic.
"Do you remember what I promised you, Neltharion," Malygos asked malevolently. The moment that he had been waiting for had finally arrived, and he could barely hold himself together as hatred and the desire for vengeance surged within him. "I told you that I would capture the memory of your life leaving your eyes and treasure it dearly. Please struggle, brother. I want this moment to last for as long as possible."
Where before Nelharion was able to easily shrug off his attacks, this time his barrage of arcane missiles struck with devastating force, tearing through Neltharion's molten hide and causing the corrupted Aspect to recoil in pain. Malygos grinned savagely as his siblings, now bolstered by their regained power, joined in the assault.
Alexstrasza flew toward Neltharion with speed far beyond what she could muster just a few moments ago and plunged her claws into his eye before ripping it out. It wasn't like her to be so ruthless, but Malygos knew well the kind of pain that came with losing a consort, so he paid it no mind.
Neltharion roared in pain and attempted to breathe a stream of lava into Alexstrasza's face, but his attack barely traveled a few feet before it was sent away to another period in time by Nozdormu. Despite the lava and arcane crystals still covering the battlefield, Ysera used her power to easily seed life into the landscape and cause an enormous jungle to emerge from the ground.
This time, Neltharion found it much more difficult to escape the vines entrapping him and Malygos gleefully decided to use the opportunity to taunt him. "How does it feel to finally face an enemy who is your equal after so long, Neltharion? How does it feel to know that this will be your last day alive? Do you feel helpless? Do you feel powerless?"
Malygos quickly summoned a spear of ice and launched it into Neltharion's regenerating eye, destroying it once again.
"Whatever pain you feel pales in comparison to what I felt as I watched helplessly as my brother betrayed me and killed my family!" Malygos screamed, unleashing the repressed despair that had eaten at him for the past ten millennia as he continued to skewer Neltharion with an endless barrage of frozen spikes. "I trusted you! I'm the one who convinced our siblings to follow your plan and infuse our power into the Dragon Soul! And you used that same artifact to kill everyone I loved!"
Neltharion escaped from the vines holding him in a burst of fire before attempting to flee from the battlefield through the Void. His attempts failed as the ward isolating them from the rest of reality rebuffed him.
As Malygos and the other Aspects continued to tear into Neltharion, he savored the growing panic he could see in his corrupted brother's eyes. Throughout the entire bloody ordeal, Malygos continued to yell out his hatred.
Eventually, he noticed that Neltharion's wounds were beginning to regenerate much slower and that the battle likely wouldn't be lasting for much longer. Not wanting to deal with Alexstrasza's soft heart if matters continued this way for much longer, Malygos teleported above Neltharion and prepared to end it.
Reaching deep within himself, Malygos summoned every drop of power he could muster and unleashed it as a blinding beam of arcane energy toward Neltharion similar to the one he started the fight with. However, instead of merely carving through the earth and leaving the corrupted Aspect in a crater, this time the attack cleanly pierced through Neltharion's throat and caused an explosion that seemed to rip the world apart.
For a moment, Malygos was afraid the attack had actually managed to kill the traitor. After all, he had sworn that he would watch the life leave his brother's eyes and he had meant it.
Much to his relief, Malygos was able to spot Neltharion laying in a pool of his own foul blood once the dust began to clear, injured yet still very much alive. The hole in his throat would probably heal itself after some time, but Malygos had no intention of allowing that to happen.
Finally, the time has come.
Slowly descending from the sky with his siblings around him, Malygos landed harshly on top of his fallen brother and bent down to look him in the eyes. Neltharion coughed and spat blood that splattered on Malygos' face, but he ignored it as he stared balefully at the person who had caused him more pain than anyone else on Azeroth.
"Do you have anything to say to me, brother?" Malygos asked, wondering what Neltharion would say in his last moments. Would he beg? Would he curse Malygos with his final breath? Would he perhaps offer some form of insincere apology for everything that he had done?
Unfortunately, life proved to be anti-climactic as Neltharion was able to do nothing besides cough up blood when he attempted to speak. Malygos regretted that his attack had not hit somewhere else on the traitor's body, but he was unwilling to allow Neltharion the time to recover.
"I suppose this is an appropriately pitiful death for you, brother," said Malygos as he raised his claw up high to deliver the finishing blow.
Malygos swung down with the intent to rip out the corrupted Aspect's throat, but was suddenly caught off guard as Neltharion suddenly spat a glob of his corrosive void-corrupted blood into his eye. Malygos found himself being thrown backward as Neltharion pushed him away with an unexpected burst of strength before slamming his tail into the ground, shaking the earth and sending a massive cloud of dust into the air.
Malygos' reaction was nearly instantaneous as he summoned a powerful gale of wind to disperse the dust, but neither he nor his siblings were quick enough to prevent Neltharion from diving into the earth as if he were a fish swimming through water. Despite the traitor's apparent escape, Malygos didn't panic.
His mind was not damaged enough for him to have forgotten Neltharion's command over the earth. Naturally, the ward that he had cast to isolate this portion of reality extended into the ground.
"You merely delay the inevitable, brother," Malygos muttered as he sent a pulse of arcane magic through the earth in search of Neltharion. It took several moments, but the spell eventually informed Malygos that his brother was still tunneling deep into the earth. "I've found you. Now let's bring you ba—"
Just as he was about to cast a spell that would have violently pulled Neltharion from the earth and back to the surface, Malygos was suddenly struck dumb as his brother seemed to abruptly disappear. In complete disbelief, Malygos sent another pulse of arcane magic into the earth in search of Neltharion, only for the spell to find nothing.
Becoming increasingly frantic, Malygos ignored the concerned words of his sisters as he cast the same spell several more times before working his way through every scrying spell he could remember.
When everything that he tried failed to produce any results, Malygos resorted to tearing apart the ground beneath him by bombarding it with magic in fury. By the time had recovered from his hysteria, Ysera's newly created forest had completely disappeared in the wake of his rampage.
Did he truly escape? ... How?
Malygos' mind ran through every possibility, but he couldn't think of anything that his ward should have been able to prevent.
When he turned his gaze to Nozdormu and saw the Aspect of Time watching him with a neutral expression, Malygos knew then that Neltharion had indeed escaped, and Nozdormu had known that such a thing would happen.
"Where is he?" asked Malygos, his voice promising violence if he didn't receive a satisfactory answer.
"Deepholm," Nozdormu answered, unperturbed by Malygos' implied threats.
It took several moments for Malygos to sift through his fractured mind and recall everything he knew about Deepholm. It was the elemental plane that had been created by the Keepers to imprison Azeroth's earth elementals. It was ruled over by Therazane the Stonemother and should be completely inaccessible to anyone from the outside.
Malygos had actually forgotten that Neltharion was capable of accessing this realm through his connection to the earth. He had only ever done so a few times throughout their entire lives, as there was little of interest there aside from bitter earth elementals.
After realizing that he could not safely reach Deathwing in Deepholm, Malygos immediately felt a wave of anger grow within him.
"And you let him escape?!" Malygos bellowed as he stomped toward Nozdormu. "Why didn't you warn us that this could happen?"
"His abilities always meant that it was unlikely that we, even with our restored power, could have successfully prevented him from escaping to Deepholm if he wanted to," Nozdormu explained. "Besides, you were the one who made the decision to prolong his death, brother."
"Nozdormu. If your machinations prevent me from watching Neltharion die, then I swear upon my flight that I'll make you regret this," said Malygos, glaring at his brother.
"It's not often that I find myself in agreement with Malygos, but he is right," said Alexstrasza, making her way to his side with her remaining consorts at her side as she confronted the Aspect of Time. "Neltharion is far too significant of a threat to this world. I find it hard to believe that Azeroth's future is better served with his survival today."
"Then you'll be pleased to know that it won't be long before a path to Deepholm becomes available to us," said Nozdormu, his gaze drifting off to look at something only he could see. "Now that I have regained my full power, there is much that I can see that was previously beyond me. I'm more confident than ever that this decision was the correct one, and I'm sure you all will share my opinion when the time is right. Until then, Neltharion is in no condition to act against us or Azeroth, needing time to recover from his wounds."
"How long until this path is revealed to us?" asked Malygos, pushing down his anger at the promise of being able to finally end Neltharion in the near future.
"Not long. Merely a few more months," Nozdormu said reassuringly.
"I intend to hold you to that," Malygos promised. It ate away at him to have his immediate vengeance stolen away from him, but a few months was nothing more than a short nap for someone as old as him.
Nozdormu nodded to him in acceptance before turning his gaze toward the rest of their siblings. "In the meantime, there are quite a few matters that require our attention."
"And what are those?" Ysera asked curiously.
"The first matter that we should attend to is the C'thrax that Neltharion sent to destroy Capital City," Nozdormu as he idly picked up a unique-looking sword with his claws like a mortal might hold a toothpick. "And this will make our task quite a bit easier."
"A C'thrax?! How much damage has it done?" asked Alexstrasza, concerned for the lives of the mortals who had to face such a being.
"Neltharion was forced to release it early, so it still hadn't fully recovered by the time it reached Capital City. Korialstrasz and the mortals were able to successfully fell the monster through great sacrifice, but they lack the means to permanently slay it," Nozdormu explained. "This sword was buried in its brain for millennia, which prevented it from recovering."
The fact that the mortals were able to defeat even a weakened C'thrax was surprising to Malygos. Such beings were the epitome of the forces of the Old Gods and could not be underestimated.
Malygos studied the enchantments of the sword and was reluctantly impressed by the weapon. The conversation turned to Nozdormu giving an account of the C'thrax's attack on the mortal city before moving on to plans to deal with its body, and what they would do afterward.
Nozdormu was insistent that he needed to return to his duties after noticing several plots being carried out by the Infinite Dragonflight that he hadn't previously noticed. Ysera felt similarly about the Emerald Dream, as the Old Gods' corruption had crept up in ways she wasn't previously aware of. They would go to Capital City to assist with the C'thrax's containment but would leave soon after.
That only left Malygos and Alexstrasza to deal with everything else and put an end to the mortal war currently ravaging the continent. One consolation of the current situation was that the mortals had become much more exposed to dragons due to Korialstrasz's defense of their city. That meant that there was nothing to stop Malygos from simply teleporting them all into Capital City so that they could quickly deal with the C'thrax.
He had always found Alexstrasza's insistence on non-interference to be troublesome, so he was glad that such a policy no longer had any point. Just as they finished their discussion and were about to leave, Alexstrasza stopped them.
"Wait a moment. Let me gather up Tyranastrasz's remains. I will take him to his final rest," said Alexstrasza, her voice consumed with sorrow.
Malygos nodded silently as he felt his own eyes begin to grow wet when his mind recalled memories of his own consort's body lying on the frozen ground so long ago. Alexstrasza and her remaining consorts carefully gathered the remains of the dragon who had stood by her side for millennia before nodding toward Malygos to signal her readiness.
In a flash of violet light, the Aspects disappeared from the ravaged land.
Krivax carefully hobbled into his room on three legs, feeling absolutely exhausted.
After learning that they had successfully destroyed the Dragon Soul, he had expected his following days to be bright and filled with celebration for saving the world from Neltharion. That expectation was thoroughly crushed once he learned that large portions of Capital City had been destroyed by a giant Void abomination.
Archbishop Faol was dead, King Terenas had been heavily injured and was currently being tended to by the most skilled priests still alive, and casualties were estimated to be somewhere over a hundred thousand. Many of the kingdom's nobles had been killed, and Lordaeron would be feeling the consequences of this event for a generation.
It was already bad enough that so many people had died, but Krivax knew with certainty that something like this had never happened in the original timeline. Without the changes that he had made, everyone who died in the attack would still be alive.
When Krivax thought about that, he could feel his thoughts begin to spiral with guilt and worry, so he just… did his best not to think about it at all.
Instead, he intended to focus on what he could actually do. Masruk was off helping with the emergency rescue operations happening throughout the city, and Krivax wished that he could find a way to help out as well. Unfortunately, that wasn't very possible given the fact that he could barely even stand with one of his legs missing, but circumstances meant that he needed to begin planning immediately.
The Aspects had abruptly returned from their confrontation with Deathwing and killed the C'thrax in a slightly more permanent fashion by stabbing a strange sword into its brain and doing some kind of complicated ritual before Ysera and Nozdormu suddenly left. Malygos had claimed that the sword would prevent the C'thrax from awakening and the ritual would keep it from spreading its influence, but he needed to do some more research into the matter in order to deal with it completely.
The two remaining Aspects had informed the Kirin Tor and the nerubians that Deathwing had been defeated but had successfully escaped to Deepholm, the elemental plane of earth.
When Krivax heard that, he was filled with a sense of dread almost as bad as when he learned of the attack on Capital City. In the original timeline, Deathwing had also managed to escape to Deepholm at some point, only to return explosively after being further empowered by the Old Gods. That return had resulted in him tearing apart the world in an event referred to as the Cataclysm, something Krivax had no doubt would kill millions of people across Azeroth if it was allowed to happen.
The only thing preventing him from falling into a debilitating panic was the fact that Krivax had made efforts to prepare for this possibility.
No matter how much he had thought about it, there was never any way to guarantee that Deathwing would be killed before he could escape. Once he had come to that conclusion, Krivax had suddenly remembered that Deathwing wasn't the only being around who could freely access Deepholm.
It had taken a lot of money to convince the Venture Company to go searching through the mountains of Khaz Modan given the ongoing war, but Azjol-Nerub was obscenely wealthy and Krivax didn't find it very hard to quietly… direct funds towards research and search for facilities similar to Ulduar in the Eastern Kingdoms. He had almost expected that the general directions he had given them wouldn't be enough, but the goblins had eventually succeeded.
Krivax quickly made certain that he was alone and reached into his spatial bag before pulling out a nondescript scroll of parchment. After taking a moment to carefully unroll the map that had cost Azjol-Nerub a small fortune, Krivax began making plans for his trip to the only Titan facility in the Eastern Kingdoms, Uldaman.
And the meeting with the Keeper that lay within.
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Thanks for reading!
Malygos crashed down into the ruined earth and quickly teleported away to avoid being skewered as Neltharion caused a massive stone spike to erupt where he had landed. He then warped the space around him so that the stream of Void-infused lava directed to where he reappeared twisted around him instead of burning him alive.
Manipulating space was significantly more difficult with the high density of Void energy in the area, but Malygos was the Aspect of Magic. If they were still at an earlier part of their confrontation with Deathwing, he would have likely made the effort to taunt his corrupted brother, but Malygos had to devote all of his focus to just surviving.
It had been easier at first when Neltharion had not fully understood what was happening and was still toying with them. Malygos and his siblings had focused their efforts on finding an opening that they could use to tear off a fragment of Neltharion, but they hadn't initially been able to find one.
Things started to get worse once whatever Void monstrosity Neltharion unleashed began causing a significant number of mortal deaths, successfully distracting Alexstrasza and her consorts. It was only when a powerful beacon of Light had flared up in the sky and vanquished Neltharion's monstrosity, momentarily diverting his attention, that they were able to find an opening.
Alexstrasza's eldest consort, Tyranastrasz, had immediately snapped his jaws around Neltharion's leg to hold him in place, which had allowed Malygos to launch himself onto the corrupted Aspect's back. He had then unleashed a massive explosion of arcane magic that devastated everything in the vicinity and successfully tore a scale from Neltharion's back.
After Ysera's consort promptly grabbed it and took it toward the portal, their intentions had been extremely obvious. Neltharion no longer hesitated with his attacks from that moment forward.
Malygos could still hear Alexstrasza's pain-filled scream as her eldest consort's head was ripped from his body and his corpse was thrown into a newly formed river of lava.
Neltharion's subsequent rampage had upended the earth for miles around, and likely caused quakes that could be felt throughout the northern portion of Tirisfal Glades.
It had taken everything that Malygos and his siblings had to avoid being killed. With most of their power still being held in the Dragon Soul, they were all significantly weaker than Neltharion, as much as it galled him to admit.
Malygos watched as an emerald green portal appeared behind Neltharion and several enormous vines emerged from it and wrapped themselves around the corrupted Aspect, interrupting his attack. Neltharion had most likely destroyed the land with the intention of distributing Ysera's nature magic, but she was no common druid.
Unfortunately, it only took a few moments for Neltharion to break free in an explosion of Void magic that mutated and killed the vines holding him. Malygos summoned hundreds of arcane missiles that struck Neltharion from every direction, but the hateful bastard merely ignored them and stepped through the Void to appear behind him in an instant.
It was only due to the fact that Nozdormu had predicted the attack and slowed down Neltharion's claws that Malygos managed to avoid having his throat ripped open.
Just as Malygos teleported away, Alexstrasza unleashed a massive ball of fire infused with life magic that tore through the Void surrounding Neltharion and actually made him stagger.
How much longer are those mortals going to take?!
"Your efforts are worthless! The Titans have abandoned us and the Void's domination over this world is inevitable!" Neltharion roared as he launched ravenous torrents of Void toward each of the Aspects. "Do you truly believe this world can defend itself from the forces that wish to control it?! From the Old Gods? From the Burning Legion? Your stubborn loyalty to absent gods serves to help nobody!"
Malygos ignored Neltharion's insane ramblings and immediately breathed out a wave of pure arcane magic that only barely succeeded in pushing back the Void. In order to buy enough time for him and his siblings to regroup, he instantly created several dozen illusions in the air of each Aspect while simultaneously turning himself, his siblings, and the remaining consorts invisible. All it took to bait the corrupted Aspect into focusing on the illusions was a quick application of telekinesis when one of Alexstrasza's illusions attacked Neltharion's back.
Malygos left Neltharion to his impotent rampage as he flew toward the rest of his siblings.
"I'm not certain how much longer we can keep this up," said Ysera, her voice filled with exhaustion. "Nothing that we do to him seems to have any permanent effect. I had forgotten how much weaker we became when we lost the power bestowed on us by the Titans."
"Ten thousand years is long enough for even us to grow accustomed to something," said Alexstrasza as she began healing their wounds by directing Life-imbued flames toward their bodies. Even as his stamina was restored, Malygos felt a tinge of sympathy as he heard the barely contained grief still in her voice. "We will last for as long as we must. There's nothing else to be done."
"How much longer do we have to wait, Nozdormu?" questioned Malygos, glaring at his brother. "Ysera's consort should have delivered the scale to them by now. Are those mortals actually going to succeed in destroying that cursed artifact, or are we simply wasting our time?"
"We won't have to wait for much longer," Nozdormu said with infuriating calmness. "The Void is going to great lengths to obscure my vision by drowning me in possible futures, but the Timeways have been solidifying toward a favorable outcome."
"And if you're wrong?" Maylgos asked challengingly.
"I have been before, but I doubt that is the case now. I'm confident everything will unfold as it should," said Nozdormu, his eyes gazing off into the distance in the same way they always did whenever he was looking into the Timeways. "Though if I am wrong, then I suppose Azeroth's fate will be a dire one, so let's hope that isn't the case."
As usual, Malygos found himself annoyed by Nozdormu's perpetual lack of concern. Unfortunately, he didn't have enough time to continue questioning the Aspect of Time, because Neltharion seemed to lose patience with the illusions before he could.
Malygos winced in pain at the magical backlash as all of his illusions were destroyed by the explosive burst of Void energy released by Neltharion. The Void assaulted his mind and ripped apart the spell hiding himself and the other Aspects seconds before Neltharion was launching himself at them while screaming more of his insane ramblings.
I hope this works.
Despite how it might have seemed to his siblings, Malygos hadn't only spent the past few minutes recovering, but also preparing his unconventional attack. Throughout the entire fight, he had been gradually funneling his magic deep into the closest leyline and slowly seized control of its energies. It was only in the past few minutes that Malygos had taken enough control that he could successfully implement his plan. Such a thing would normally be impossible for even the most powerful of mages, but there was not a single soul on Azeroth more familiar with the world's leylines than Malygos.
Just as Neltharion was about to reach them, Malygos pulled against the arcane magic flowing through the earth with all of his magical might.
Suddenly, with a deafening roar, the land beneath them shuddered and cracked as the leyline erupted upwards and unleashed an unfathomable amount of arcane energy that could likely be seen from miles around directly at Neltharion. Malygos was filled with malicious glee as his corrupted brother screamed in pain at the constant torrent of arcane energy ripping into his body and launching him half a mile away.
He knew that this wouldn't be enough to kill Neltharion, but it should be enough to buy them all some time until the Dragon Soul was destroyed.
"Malygos, what did you do?" Alexstrasza asked in astonishment.
"We never had any chance to defeat him in a straight fight. That being the case, it should be obvious that I would plan something like this," said Malygos, feeling more than a little smug. "A quick look at the Arcanomicon revealed to me that Neltharion had positioned his manor over a decently sized leyline. It was never something that I needed to do before, but it wasn't difficult for me to devise a way to uproot one and direct its power elsewhere."
"Won't something like this cause long-term consequences for the region?" asked Ysera, observing the results of Malygos' actions with curiosity. Even now, arcane crystals were beginning to emerge from the lava-covered landscape as the leyline's energies spilled out onto the surface.
"Perhaps, but if the mortals succeed in destroying the Dragon Soul, then I will have my powers restored and I'll be able to fix the problem at a later time," Malygos said dismissively. "Besides, this should be enough to grant us the time we need."
Unfortunately, it seemed like Neltharion loved nothing more than to make Malygos look foolish. Seconds after he finished speaking, the mountain that Neltharion had been launched into exploded as the corrupted Aspect reemerged.
Pieces of his body seemed to have cracked open, revealing streams of magma flowing beneath his skin. His eyes were completely aflame and he glared at Malygos with unending hatred.
It reminded him too much of how Neltharion looked when he had betrayed them all during the War of the Ancients, and Malygos barely prevented himself from losing his mind in an unwelcome depressive spiral. He also noticed that Neltharion's body had begun to twist and deform as he pulled deeper from the Void, causing strange writhing appendages to emerge from random locations.
A part of Malygos expected Neltharion to continue his demented ravings, but that didn't happen. Instead, Neltharion let out a guttural roar that echoed throughout the ravaged landscape to announce his unrelenting fury. The corrupted Aspected surged toward them with renewed ferocity, his molten body glowing brightly as he flew through the air.
Neltharion's following onslaught was relentless. He tore through any barrier that Malygos could conjure as if they were mere annoyances and barreled through Ysera's conjured vines like they didn't exist. Nozdormu focused on creating openings wherever he could and slowing down Neltharion when he came close to landing a lethal blow, but Malygos could tell that his efforts were gradually growing less effective. If Alexstrasza had not been constantly healing them, there was no doubt that Neltharion would have killed them all within a few minutes.
Malygos winced as a jagged shard of molten rock pierced through his wing, the heat searing his flesh. Holding himself aloft with magic, he pushed the pain aside and focused entirely on the battle. Another one of Alexstrasza's consorts had been incapacitated and knocked out of the sky as his wings were ripped from his body.
Just as Malygos was beginning to believe that none of them were going to survive to see the next day, his attention was drawn to the sound of Nozdormu releasing a breath of relief. Before Malygos could question his brother, his attention was suddenly drawn to the feeling of familiar thick ribbons of magic headed toward them from the east.
Judging by the sudden hush that had fallen over the battlefield, Malygos wasn't the only one to sense what had happened.
"No!"
Neltharion's roar was filled with a mix of rage and disbelief as a pulse of magical energy swept through the land. The Dragon Soul had been destroyed, and the power that had been stolen from the Aspects was returning to them.
Malygos watched as the four streams of power connected and strengthened them in ways that they had not felt for millennia, healing their wounds, and empowering them to great heights
I almost forgot what this felt like, Malygos thought as the strength bestowed upon him by the titans surged through his body.
Seeing no reason to wait for his siblings to adjust to their regained power, Malygos instantly created a powerful ward around the battlefield before anyone could react. Space twisted inward as everything within the ward was suddenly trapped in an isolated bubble of reality from which nothing could escape.
Neltharion was instantly snapped out of his disbelief as he sensed what Malygos had done and turned his gaze toward the Aspect of Magic.
"Do you remember what I promised you, Neltharion," Malygos asked malevolently. The moment that he had been waiting for had finally arrived, and he could barely hold himself together as hatred and the desire for vengeance surged within him. "I told you that I would capture the memory of your life leaving your eyes and treasure it dearly. Please struggle, brother. I want this moment to last for as long as possible."
Where before Nelharion was able to easily shrug off his attacks, this time his barrage of arcane missiles struck with devastating force, tearing through Neltharion's molten hide and causing the corrupted Aspect to recoil in pain. Malygos grinned savagely as his siblings, now bolstered by their regained power, joined in the assault.
Alexstrasza flew toward Neltharion with speed far beyond what she could muster just a few moments ago and plunged her claws into his eye before ripping it out. It wasn't like her to be so ruthless, but Malygos knew well the kind of pain that came with losing a consort, so he paid it no mind.
Neltharion roared in pain and attempted to breathe a stream of lava into Alexstrasza's face, but his attack barely traveled a few feet before it was sent away to another period in time by Nozdormu. Despite the lava and arcane crystals still covering the battlefield, Ysera used her power to easily seed life into the landscape and cause an enormous jungle to emerge from the ground.
This time, Neltharion found it much more difficult to escape the vines entrapping him and Malygos gleefully decided to use the opportunity to taunt him. "How does it feel to finally face an enemy who is your equal after so long, Neltharion? How does it feel to know that this will be your last day alive? Do you feel helpless? Do you feel powerless?"
Malygos quickly summoned a spear of ice and launched it into Neltharion's regenerating eye, destroying it once again.
"Whatever pain you feel pales in comparison to what I felt as I watched helplessly as my brother betrayed me and killed my family!" Malygos screamed, unleashing the repressed despair that had eaten at him for the past ten millennia as he continued to skewer Neltharion with an endless barrage of frozen spikes. "I trusted you! I'm the one who convinced our siblings to follow your plan and infuse our power into the Dragon Soul! And you used that same artifact to kill everyone I loved!"
Neltharion escaped from the vines holding him in a burst of fire before attempting to flee from the battlefield through the Void. His attempts failed as the ward isolating them from the rest of reality rebuffed him.
As Malygos and the other Aspects continued to tear into Neltharion, he savored the growing panic he could see in his corrupted brother's eyes. Throughout the entire bloody ordeal, Malygos continued to yell out his hatred.
Eventually, he noticed that Neltharion's wounds were beginning to regenerate much slower and that the battle likely wouldn't be lasting for much longer. Not wanting to deal with Alexstrasza's soft heart if matters continued this way for much longer, Malygos teleported above Neltharion and prepared to end it.
Reaching deep within himself, Malygos summoned every drop of power he could muster and unleashed it as a blinding beam of arcane energy toward Neltharion similar to the one he started the fight with. However, instead of merely carving through the earth and leaving the corrupted Aspect in a crater, this time the attack cleanly pierced through Neltharion's throat and caused an explosion that seemed to rip the world apart.
For a moment, Malygos was afraid the attack had actually managed to kill the traitor. After all, he had sworn that he would watch the life leave his brother's eyes and he had meant it.
Much to his relief, Malygos was able to spot Neltharion laying in a pool of his own foul blood once the dust began to clear, injured yet still very much alive. The hole in his throat would probably heal itself after some time, but Malygos had no intention of allowing that to happen.
Finally, the time has come.
Slowly descending from the sky with his siblings around him, Malygos landed harshly on top of his fallen brother and bent down to look him in the eyes. Neltharion coughed and spat blood that splattered on Malygos' face, but he ignored it as he stared balefully at the person who had caused him more pain than anyone else on Azeroth.
"Do you have anything to say to me, brother?" Malygos asked, wondering what Neltharion would say in his last moments. Would he beg? Would he curse Malygos with his final breath? Would he perhaps offer some form of insincere apology for everything that he had done?
Unfortunately, life proved to be anti-climactic as Neltharion was able to do nothing besides cough up blood when he attempted to speak. Malygos regretted that his attack had not hit somewhere else on the traitor's body, but he was unwilling to allow Neltharion the time to recover.
"I suppose this is an appropriately pitiful death for you, brother," said Malygos as he raised his claw up high to deliver the finishing blow.
Malygos swung down with the intent to rip out the corrupted Aspect's throat, but was suddenly caught off guard as Neltharion suddenly spat a glob of his corrosive void-corrupted blood into his eye. Malygos found himself being thrown backward as Neltharion pushed him away with an unexpected burst of strength before slamming his tail into the ground, shaking the earth and sending a massive cloud of dust into the air.
Malygos' reaction was nearly instantaneous as he summoned a powerful gale of wind to disperse the dust, but neither he nor his siblings were quick enough to prevent Neltharion from diving into the earth as if he were a fish swimming through water. Despite the traitor's apparent escape, Malygos didn't panic.
His mind was not damaged enough for him to have forgotten Neltharion's command over the earth. Naturally, the ward that he had cast to isolate this portion of reality extended into the ground.
"You merely delay the inevitable, brother," Malygos muttered as he sent a pulse of arcane magic through the earth in search of Neltharion. It took several moments, but the spell eventually informed Malygos that his brother was still tunneling deep into the earth. "I've found you. Now let's bring you ba—"
Just as he was about to cast a spell that would have violently pulled Neltharion from the earth and back to the surface, Malygos was suddenly struck dumb as his brother seemed to abruptly disappear. In complete disbelief, Malygos sent another pulse of arcane magic into the earth in search of Neltharion, only for the spell to find nothing.
Becoming increasingly frantic, Malygos ignored the concerned words of his sisters as he cast the same spell several more times before working his way through every scrying spell he could remember.
When everything that he tried failed to produce any results, Malygos resorted to tearing apart the ground beneath him by bombarding it with magic in fury. By the time had recovered from his hysteria, Ysera's newly created forest had completely disappeared in the wake of his rampage.
Did he truly escape? ... How?
Malygos' mind ran through every possibility, but he couldn't think of anything that his ward should have been able to prevent.
When he turned his gaze to Nozdormu and saw the Aspect of Time watching him with a neutral expression, Malygos knew then that Neltharion had indeed escaped, and Nozdormu had known that such a thing would happen.
"Where is he?" asked Malygos, his voice promising violence if he didn't receive a satisfactory answer.
"Deepholm," Nozdormu answered, unperturbed by Malygos' implied threats.
It took several moments for Malygos to sift through his fractured mind and recall everything he knew about Deepholm. It was the elemental plane that had been created by the Keepers to imprison Azeroth's earth elementals. It was ruled over by Therazane the Stonemother and should be completely inaccessible to anyone from the outside.
Malygos had actually forgotten that Neltharion was capable of accessing this realm through his connection to the earth. He had only ever done so a few times throughout their entire lives, as there was little of interest there aside from bitter earth elementals.
After realizing that he could not safely reach Deathwing in Deepholm, Malygos immediately felt a wave of anger grow within him.
"And you let him escape?!" Malygos bellowed as he stomped toward Nozdormu. "Why didn't you warn us that this could happen?"
"His abilities always meant that it was unlikely that we, even with our restored power, could have successfully prevented him from escaping to Deepholm if he wanted to," Nozdormu explained. "Besides, you were the one who made the decision to prolong his death, brother."
"Nozdormu. If your machinations prevent me from watching Neltharion die, then I swear upon my flight that I'll make you regret this," said Malygos, glaring at his brother.
"It's not often that I find myself in agreement with Malygos, but he is right," said Alexstrasza, making her way to his side with her remaining consorts at her side as she confronted the Aspect of Time. "Neltharion is far too significant of a threat to this world. I find it hard to believe that Azeroth's future is better served with his survival today."
"Then you'll be pleased to know that it won't be long before a path to Deepholm becomes available to us," said Nozdormu, his gaze drifting off to look at something only he could see. "Now that I have regained my full power, there is much that I can see that was previously beyond me. I'm more confident than ever that this decision was the correct one, and I'm sure you all will share my opinion when the time is right. Until then, Neltharion is in no condition to act against us or Azeroth, needing time to recover from his wounds."
"How long until this path is revealed to us?" asked Malygos, pushing down his anger at the promise of being able to finally end Neltharion in the near future.
"Not long. Merely a few more months," Nozdormu said reassuringly.
"I intend to hold you to that," Malygos promised. It ate away at him to have his immediate vengeance stolen away from him, but a few months was nothing more than a short nap for someone as old as him.
Nozdormu nodded to him in acceptance before turning his gaze toward the rest of their siblings. "In the meantime, there are quite a few matters that require our attention."
"And what are those?" Ysera asked curiously.
"The first matter that we should attend to is the C'thrax that Neltharion sent to destroy Capital City," Nozdormu as he idly picked up a unique-looking sword with his claws like a mortal might hold a toothpick. "And this will make our task quite a bit easier."
"A C'thrax?! How much damage has it done?" asked Alexstrasza, concerned for the lives of the mortals who had to face such a being.
"Neltharion was forced to release it early, so it still hadn't fully recovered by the time it reached Capital City. Korialstrasz and the mortals were able to successfully fell the monster through great sacrifice, but they lack the means to permanently slay it," Nozdormu explained. "This sword was buried in its brain for millennia, which prevented it from recovering."
The fact that the mortals were able to defeat even a weakened C'thrax was surprising to Malygos. Such beings were the epitome of the forces of the Old Gods and could not be underestimated.
Malygos studied the enchantments of the sword and was reluctantly impressed by the weapon. The conversation turned to Nozdormu giving an account of the C'thrax's attack on the mortal city before moving on to plans to deal with its body, and what they would do afterward.
Nozdormu was insistent that he needed to return to his duties after noticing several plots being carried out by the Infinite Dragonflight that he hadn't previously noticed. Ysera felt similarly about the Emerald Dream, as the Old Gods' corruption had crept up in ways she wasn't previously aware of. They would go to Capital City to assist with the C'thrax's containment but would leave soon after.
That only left Malygos and Alexstrasza to deal with everything else and put an end to the mortal war currently ravaging the continent. One consolation of the current situation was that the mortals had become much more exposed to dragons due to Korialstrasz's defense of their city. That meant that there was nothing to stop Malygos from simply teleporting them all into Capital City so that they could quickly deal with the C'thrax.
He had always found Alexstrasza's insistence on non-interference to be troublesome, so he was glad that such a policy no longer had any point. Just as they finished their discussion and were about to leave, Alexstrasza stopped them.
"Wait a moment. Let me gather up Tyranastrasz's remains. I will take him to his final rest," said Alexstrasza, her voice consumed with sorrow.
Malygos nodded silently as he felt his own eyes begin to grow wet when his mind recalled memories of his own consort's body lying on the frozen ground so long ago. Alexstrasza and her remaining consorts carefully gathered the remains of the dragon who had stood by her side for millennia before nodding toward Malygos to signal her readiness.
In a flash of violet light, the Aspects disappeared from the ravaged land.
Krivax carefully hobbled into his room on three legs, feeling absolutely exhausted.
After learning that they had successfully destroyed the Dragon Soul, he had expected his following days to be bright and filled with celebration for saving the world from Neltharion. That expectation was thoroughly crushed once he learned that large portions of Capital City had been destroyed by a giant Void abomination.
Archbishop Faol was dead, King Terenas had been heavily injured and was currently being tended to by the most skilled priests still alive, and casualties were estimated to be somewhere over a hundred thousand. Many of the kingdom's nobles had been killed, and Lordaeron would be feeling the consequences of this event for a generation.
It was already bad enough that so many people had died, but Krivax knew with certainty that something like this had never happened in the original timeline. Without the changes that he had made, everyone who died in the attack would still be alive.
When Krivax thought about that, he could feel his thoughts begin to spiral with guilt and worry, so he just… did his best not to think about it at all.
Instead, he intended to focus on what he could actually do. Masruk was off helping with the emergency rescue operations happening throughout the city, and Krivax wished that he could find a way to help out as well. Unfortunately, that wasn't very possible given the fact that he could barely even stand with one of his legs missing, but circumstances meant that he needed to begin planning immediately.
The Aspects had abruptly returned from their confrontation with Deathwing and killed the C'thrax in a slightly more permanent fashion by stabbing a strange sword into its brain and doing some kind of complicated ritual before Ysera and Nozdormu suddenly left. Malygos had claimed that the sword would prevent the C'thrax from awakening and the ritual would keep it from spreading its influence, but he needed to do some more research into the matter in order to deal with it completely.
The two remaining Aspects had informed the Kirin Tor and the nerubians that Deathwing had been defeated but had successfully escaped to Deepholm, the elemental plane of earth.
When Krivax heard that, he was filled with a sense of dread almost as bad as when he learned of the attack on Capital City. In the original timeline, Deathwing had also managed to escape to Deepholm at some point, only to return explosively after being further empowered by the Old Gods. That return had resulted in him tearing apart the world in an event referred to as the Cataclysm, something Krivax had no doubt would kill millions of people across Azeroth if it was allowed to happen.
The only thing preventing him from falling into a debilitating panic was the fact that Krivax had made efforts to prepare for this possibility.
No matter how much he had thought about it, there was never any way to guarantee that Deathwing would be killed before he could escape. Once he had come to that conclusion, Krivax had suddenly remembered that Deathwing wasn't the only being around who could freely access Deepholm.
It had taken a lot of money to convince the Venture Company to go searching through the mountains of Khaz Modan given the ongoing war, but Azjol-Nerub was obscenely wealthy and Krivax didn't find it very hard to quietly… direct funds towards research and search for facilities similar to Ulduar in the Eastern Kingdoms. He had almost expected that the general directions he had given them wouldn't be enough, but the goblins had eventually succeeded.
Krivax quickly made certain that he was alone and reached into his spatial bag before pulling out a nondescript scroll of parchment. After taking a moment to carefully unroll the map that had cost Azjol-Nerub a small fortune, Krivax began making plans for his trip to the only Titan facility in the Eastern Kingdoms, Uldaman.
And the meeting with the Keeper that lay within.
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Chapter 50.5
As Orgrim Doomhammer swung his hammer through the plate armor of a human knight and caved in their chest, he failed to feel the typical exhilaration he felt while in battle.
Instead, he was consumed by nothing but a sense of foreboding.
Ever since they had made landfall in the Hillsbrad Foothills, the war had not gone at all as Orgrim had planned. Despite the superior strength and ferocity of the Horde, the Alliance had proven themselves to be a far greater enemy than he had ever believed possible. That was especially the case once they began sending their monsters to kill the Horde's brave warriors.
The spider creatures that the humans referred to as 'nerubians' were a nightmare to fight on the battlefield. Their arachnathids constantly ambushed Orgrim's warriors from beneath the ground and swarms of their skitterers devoured fully grown orcs in less than thirty seconds. Their flyers caused constant problems for the Horde's undead dragons and the standard nerubian soldiers charged through the Horde ranks as if they were human cavalry. They even possessed powerful mages who were more than capable of challenging the Horde's own spell casters.
Despite all of that, no other variety of nerubian caused more problems for the Horde than the Spiderlords and their pet Jormungars.
Orgrim had seen more than a few battles lost because they lacked the ability to counter the hateful worms that the Alliance used to collapse the Horde's defensive lines. If his people still had any shamans capable of communing with the elements, this wouldn't have been a problem.
When he had first allied with Zul'Jin and the rest of the trolls, there had been a part of him that had hoped the troll priests and witch doctors would be able to help guide his people back to the spirits of the land. However, the elements remained silent to his people, and any hope he might have once possessed had already faded away.
The Spiderlords, on the other hand, were massive and intelligent behemoths. The nerubian giants tore through the Horde lines whenever they stepped onto the battlefield. Orgrim had long lost the ability to feel fear, but if he still could, he imagined that the Spiderlords would inspire such a feeling. Throughout the war, the only ones who had succeeded in killing the creatures were the Death Knight Teron Gorefield and that traitorous vermin Gul'dan.
At the thought of Gul'dan, Orgrim couldn't help but let out a shout of rage as he crushed the skull of another human.
Once it became clear that their enemy was much more powerful than expected, Gul'dan had abandoned the Horde along with the entire Stormreaver clan and anyone else who would follow him at the first opportunity. Orgrim wanted nothing more than to hunt down the traitor, but that wasn't possible when his Horde was being picked apart from every side.
The damned elves were making constant attacks while retreating behind their impenetrable barrier while the rest of the Alliance were constantly attacking them from the west. The gryphon-riding dwarves attacked them from the air along with the nerubian's flyers, and Orgrim had even received reports that the Twilight Hammer clan's camp had been destroyed far behind the front lines!
He had no idea how the Alliance had accomplished such a feat, but there simply wasn't any time for him to learn more. The enemies of the Horde had smelt weakness and were attacking with the ferocity of a rylak.
Only recently, Orgrim had decided that any further attempts to attack the elves would be useless. The leader of their troll allies, Zul'jin, had argued furiously against the decision, but Orgrim needed to make the best choice for the Horde as a whole. Their food supplies were running out and an army as large as theirs could only be sustained if they were making constant progress. He had decided to direct the Horde toward Capital City and forage more supplies from the human territories. That ended their alliance with Zul'jin, and the trolls broke ties with them to continue their fruitless struggle against the high elves while the Horde moved on.
Unfortunately, progress had stalled.
The humans native to the Alterac Mountains were far more familiar with their land than they were, and the Alliance's jormungars made passing through such terrain all but impossible. The path through the fertile farmlands known as Eastweald was much more open, but it had already been heavily fortified by the Alliance.
Recently, Orgrim had found himself being forced to face the possibility that the Horde might actually lose this war.
If such a thing was to happen, then there would truly be no hope for his people. Draenor was a slowly dying world that grew more hostile with every passing day, and Orgrim had no illusions that the Alliance wouldn't take back every inch of land that his people had taken from them. If there was one thing that he had learned over the past few years on this alien world, it was that humans weren't so different from orcs when angered.
If Orgrim were in their position, he would wipe every single member of the Horde from the face of the world so that they would never again become a threat. He didn't know if the humans would go to such lengths, but he wouldn't be surprised if they did.
Orgrim was suddenly pulled from his thoughts as one of the humans took advantage of his distraction and carved a line through his arm with their blade. Feeling the familiar rush of anger and power flow through him, Orgrim roared in fury and swung his hammer with such strength that the human's head completely left his body.
Enough of this!
Orgrim banished his weak thoughts and threw himself into the battle with a frenzied wrath. If his people were fated to die, then they would do so as true orcs should! Bloody and thrashing in the heat of battle with a weapon in their hand and fury in their heart!
Nobody would ever dare to say that the orcs had dishonored their ancestors by dying quietly. He would tear through the humans and leave a permanent mark on this world that would be remembered for ages to come.
Orgrim didn't know how long it had been since he had lost himself in the bloodlust of battle, but he was only pulled back to reality when an earthshaking roar passed over the battlefield. When he looked up to see what manner of creature had caused such a sound, Orgrim once again felt the glimmering of fear for the first time since his people had been twisted by the magic of the warlocks.
Flying toward them was a massive red dragon far larger than any Orgrim had ever seen. He had participated in the Horde's hunts when they drove Draenor's Magnaron to extinction; at the time, Orgrim had thought he would never see a living creature larger than them.
He now knew he was wrong.
The creature's mere presence caused a hush to fall over the battlefield until Orgrim pulled himself from his shock and shouted at his Death Knights to engage the beast. Given what the Horde had done to the corpses of its kin, there was no reason to doubt that the creature was an enemy.
The Death Knights hesitated for a moment, but eventually mounted their undead dragons and took to the skies. The undead mounts of the Death Knights were much smaller than the beast flying toward them, but Orgrim hoped that their superior numbers would be enough to bring the behemoth down.
More of their Death Knights had grown skilled enough to control the undead dragons over time, and Cho'gall's disgusting book continued to lead them to useful corpses. The Horde was now in possession of eight undead dragons, which they used to great effect against the Alliance.
Unfortunately, it almost immediately became apparent to Orgrim that his Death Knights had no hope against the beast. With a furious glint in its eyes, the massive dragon inhaled deeply and released a breath of fire large enough to completely engulf half of the Death Knights and their mounts in flames, instantly reducing them to ash. A swipe of its claws held enough power to annihilate another two undead dragons, and a swing of its tail sent the last two crashing into the earth like meteorites.
The Horde's most powerful weapons were destroyed in the span of a few breaths.
Orgrim was so shocked by the sight that he did nothing as the dragon flew in his direction and landed on the battlefield directly in front of him. A single beat of its wings created a powerful gale that sent every orc near it stumbling back. The enormous creature looked down at Orgrim for a few moments before it suddenly began to shrink, much to his confusion.
Once it was finished changing its shape, Orgrim found himself looking at a female elf that was significantly taller than any other that he had seen. She wore dark red armor with golden trimming and had two large horns emerging from his head. There was a heavy… presence about her that prevented the nearby orcs from approaching her as she walked toward Orgrim.
As soon as she drew close enough to be heard, the creature wearing the skin of a woman called out to him. "Are you Orgrim Doomhammer, Warchief of the Horde?"
"I am. Who are you, creature?" Orgrim asked as he held tightly onto his weapon.
"I am Alestrasza, Queen of the Dragons and Aspect of Life, and I've come to put an end to this war. Instruct your warriors to lay down their weapons," the woman declared, her voice booming over the battlefield. "I swear that you will all be treated fairly as prisoners, despite the many atrocities you have committed against the mortals of this continent and your acts of desecration against my own kin."
Orgrim almost wanted to laugh at the woman's audacity. Instead, he simply grew angry.
"The Horde will never surrender! We conquered our entire world, and it is our destiny to conquer this one as well! If you mean to stand in our way, then we will destroy you just as we did every other obstacle in our path to glory, beast!" Orgrim bellowed before lifting his war hammer and charging the dragon woman with as much speed as could muster.
If the dragon was foolish enough to appear in front of him in such a weak form, then he had every intention of taking advantage.
Orgrim dashed to the so-called 'Queen of the Dragons' faster than most warriors would have been capable of and swung at the woman's head. He knew that his attack carried enough force to even tear through hardened steel, so Orgrim expected the woman to either dodge to the side or have her head crushed like an egg.
Instead, Orgrim was struck dumb as the woman calmly raised a single hand and caught his hammer moments before it was about to strike her head. It felt to him as if he had just attempted to strike a solid plate of adamantite. He attempted to pull his weapon back, but the woman didn't even stumble as he heaved with all of his strength.
"An impressive weapon. Forged within the heat of elemental lava and carrying with it powerful ancestral magic," said the woman as she studied the weapon, Doomhammer, that had been passed down through Orgrim's family for generations, not even seeming to notice Orgrim's efforts. "After all the horrors that you have unleashed on the mortals of this land, I don't believe you deserve such an artifact."
Orgrim was helpless to do anything as the dragon woman easily pulled Doomhammer from his grasp as if he were a child and knocked him to the ground with a single swing to his stomach. He burned with humiliation as the dragon placed a single foot on his chest in front of the astonished gazes of his warriors. Orgrim tried desperately to push her off, but her strength was so immense that he felt as if he was trying to move a mountain.
"This war is over! Your Warchief lies defeated and you have no hope of victory. Your shadowy masters, the demons and black dragons, can not help you. If you value the lives of your family and of your children, you will surrender now!" the dragon woman called out, her voice easily traveling over the silent battlefield.
As his warriors continued to hold on to their weapons and glare unyieldingly at the woman, Orgrim couldn't help but laugh. "You fool. The Horde will never yield to you. We would rather die with honor than live in cowardice!"
The woman looked down at Orgrim with something vaguely akin to pity. "If your people refuse to surrender, there will be no battle. There will be no honor. Instead, there will only be fire."
Before Orgrim could reply, he was suddenly interrupted by the echoing chorus of distant roars. With dread, he looked to the source and saw nearly a hundred fully grown dragons flying toward the battlefield.
"What you see, Warchief, is a portion of the Red Dragonflight," said the woman as she watched the approaching dragons with fondness.
A… portion? Orgrim thought with deep shock.
"The rest are attacking Horde positions elsewhere. They've been given orders to capture those who peacefully surrender but make no mistake, if you do not surrender then this entire army will become ash," the woman said firmly, looking down at him with a weary gaze. "It would pain me deeply to end so many lives, but the Horde is a great threat to Azeroth and I am sworn to protect it. The choice is yours, Warchief. Will you lead your people to a swift end, or will you allow them the chance to live despite the many terrible things they have done?"
Orgrim was silent as he stared up at the approaching dragons and struggled with the choice presented to him. After some time, a wave of deep resignation flowed through him as he made his decision and nodded.
Ordering his generals to surrender was the most painful experience of Orgrim's life, and the jubilant cheers of the Alliance only made it worse. The other chieftains were reluctant, but the threat before them was insurmountable and Orgrim swore to them that he would be the one to suffer the dishonor of surrender. After receiving such an assurance, they all began to throw down their weapons one after another.
As he was led away in chains, Orgrim couldn't help but wonder what god he had offended for the Horde to be defeated in such a humiliating manner.
Staring straight ahead from the prow of the ship his minions had stolen from the Horde, Gul'dan could feel his excitement grow as he approached his destiny.
He was moments away from reaching the so-called 'Tomb of Sargeras' and seizing hold of the artifact that would transform him into a god. His journey had taken from far, from his beginning as a worthless cripple to the most powerful warlock to ever walk the face of Draenor. He had made deals with demons, orchestrated a war between his people and the Draenei, and corrupted the elements of Draenor so thoroughly that the world was irrecoverable.
All of this, Gul'dan had done in the pursuit of power, and it had been worth it.
His only regret was that he had allowed himself to be humiliated by the pitiful excuse for a Warchief, Orgrim Doomhammer. Unlike his even more pitiful predecessor, Blackhand, Doomhammer had never trusted him and took every possible opportunity to degrade and threaten Gul'dan.
He wished that he could see the look on the fool's face once he realized that Gul'dan had taken a sizable portion of his forces and abandoned the Horde. He knew that his actions didn't have any particular impact on the outcome of the war—it was clear to anyone paying attention in the past few months that the Horde was going to lose—but Gul'dan knew that the Warchief must have been utterly furious regardless.
Their meaningless war didn't matter. Once Gul'dan became a god, he would put both the Alliance and the Horde under his control. Kil'jaeden had made a mistake when he told him about this place, and Gul'dan fully intended to take advantage of the power contained within. According to the demon, the Tomb of Sargeras was currently beneath the waves near a chain of islands to the west of the Eastern Kingdoms.
It would take an act of extreme power to raise the tomb from the sea, but Gul'dan was confident in his ability to do so. After several more minutes of sailing, Gul'dan sensed the tomb's potent magical presence and ordered the members of the Stormreaver clan sailing the ship to bring them above it.
Just as he was about to begin the process of raising the tomb, Gul'dan could feel the furious presence of Kil'jaeden in his mind as the demon attempted to contact him.
He had grown powerful enough that the demon wouldn't be able to form a magical connection with Gul'dan without his consent. Still, he felt like he would dearly enjoy the opportunity to mock his former master before his apotheosis, so Gul'dan allowed a weak connection to form between the two of them.
"Gul'dan, what have you done?" the enraged voice of Kil'jaeden bellowed in his mind. Faced with the demon's anger, Gul'dan felt nothing but smugness and pride. "You were ordered to aid the Horde against the Alliance and prepare this world for our arrival! Yet you've abandoned them at the first opportunity in a mad attempt to seize power that you cannot hope to control? I'm disappointed in you, little orc. I did not think you were so utterly foolish."
"Even with my help, the Horde was never going to defeat the Alliance," Gul'dan responded, sneering at the arrogant demon. "If you thought they could last for long against those cursed insects, then you are a far bigger fool than I, Kil'jaeden. Besides, why should I resign myself to being your servant while your master's corpse is so readily available? Once I absorb its power, there will be no force in this world capable of controlling me. You would be wise to reconsider how you speak to me, demon."
"I have seen more of the cosmos than you could possibly fathom, Gul'dan. Yet I have only rarely seen anyone as arrogant and reckless as yourself," said Kil'jaeden, his anger cooling into something more focused. "I had simply planned to quietly watch as the demons within the tomb tore you to pieces, but I had not expected there to be a new ward surrounding the tomb, or that you would so carelessly trigger it."
Gul'dan's felt his sneer drop as he heard the demon's words. Kil'jaeden was not so stupid to utter such an easily verifiable lie, so he immediately cast a spell on his surroundings meant to reveal any hidden magic.
If he had been slightly less powerful, Gul'dan would not have been able to find the ward at all. Its presence was so insignificant that he could barely tell that it existed, yet once he actually managed to spot it, Gul'dan's heart fell at the unfathomable potency of the arcane magic used to create it.
Whoever created this ward was powerful… too powerful.
"What is this, Kil'jaeden?! You said that the natives of this world wouldn't be monitoring the tomb!" Gul'dan yelled out loud, not caring about his image as the Stormreaver orcs looked at him as if he was insane.
"They shouldn't have been. The only mortal to know of this place was Medivh and his mother, Aegwynn. The only other being who could have knowledge of the Tomb would be Malygos, Aspect of Magic," said Kil'jaeden, his voice smug as he savored Gul'dan's panic. "He was not worth considering until recently, but the dragons should still not have had any reason to believe someone might attempt to access the tomb. I'm quite curious as to how they knew to expect you, Gul'dan. Perhaps you can ask Malygos while he's slaughtering you and your worthless servants."
Gul'dan didn't want to believe the demon's words, but the evidence of their truth was all around him. Now that he knew what to look for, he could practically sense a terrifying presence watching him through the wards.
Gul'dan ordered his followers to prepare for battle, but they had little time to do so before a swirling portal of violet magic opened on the deck of the ship. Out of it stepped what appeared to be a blue-haired elf with bright glowing eyes and scales, but Gul'dan could sense the truth behind the creature's visage.
"Oh? You're truly here then? How interesting," the dragon said mildly, sweeping his gaze over Gul'dan and his servants.
"How did you know that I would be here?" Gul'dan furiously demanded as he prepared himself to throw Fel flame at the creature.
"You must be the Burning Legion's latest puppet, Gul'dan. I have no intention of answering your questions, mortal. Die ignorant."
Gul'dan was just barely able to redirect the spell that the dragon sent at him toward one of the nearby ogre magi. He watched in horror as the ogre's flesh immediately crystalized and then shattered into dust. Without the slightest hesitation, Gul'dan ordered his servants to attack and kill the dragon.
He had gone to great lengths to be certain that those present would be utterly loyal to him, so Gul'dan was satisfied to see that they obeyed his orders without question. Their loyalty made it much easier for him to step back and focus on his connection to Kil'jaeden while the dragon carelessly slaughtered them.
"Demon! Grant me the power to slay this creature!"
Kil'jaeden's response was both immediate and incredulous. "After such blatant betrayal, you still possess the audacity to ask me for power? Watching your death will give me nothing but pleasure, Gul'dan. What makes you believe for even a moment that I would grant you any amount of power?"
"Do you not wish to use this opportunity to kill one of the Burning Legion's greatest enemies?" asked Gul'dan, a hint of desperation creeping into his voice as he watched the ongoing slaughter. At the rate the dragon was tearing through his servants, he had a mere few seconds before the creature turned its attention to him. "Grant me this power and I will use it to slay Malygos and open the Legion's path to Azeroth!"
Through their connection, Gul'dan could feel Kil'jaeden's presence shift from mocking doubt to cunning thoughtfulness to malevolent satisfaction, all within the space of a heartbeat. Gul'dan wasn't sure why, but at that moment his instincts told him that would come to deeply regret the plea that he had just made.
Before he could think about that feeling any further, Gul'dan suddenly felt a flood of Fel magic pour through the connection between him and Kil'jaeden. As more power than he had ever felt flowed through his body, Gul'dan felt as if his very body had transcended some barrier he had never known existed.
Turning to the dragon just as it killed the last of his servants, Gul'dan laughed uproariously and let forth a stream of Fel fire that turned everything between him and the dragon to ash. The corpses of the Stormreaver clan melted away in seconds and it seemed as if the entire ship had been set aflame.
It would be troublesome to raise the tomb once the ship was destroyed, but it was simply more important to kill the dragon with his full power.
Gul'dan knew intimately the power of Fel magic and that his fires had the ability to destroy everything that they touched, whether it be bodies, magic, or even souls. Nothing in this world could survive the power he now held at his fingertips!
"I would almost be impressed if this power was your own."
To Gul'dan's great shock, the dragon easily passed through the flames no being should have been able to survive, as the very space surrounding its body seemed to bend and twist the Fel fire away. Gul'dan roared in fury and increased the intensity of his flames, but the dragon ignored him.
"But you are merely a pathetic little vermin borrowing strength from those so far above you."
Before Gul'dan could react, the dragon grabbed him by the throat and slowly lifted him into the air. As he struggled to breathe, Malygos pulled Gul'dan close and looked deeply into his eyes before speaking. "Now, let me see if everything that I've heard about you is accurate."
Gul'dan attempted to scream in pain as his mind was ripped apart and his memories meticulously examined, but the hand around his throat prevented him from doing so. Eventually, the dragon retreated from his mind and looked at him with a sneer on his face.
"Disgusting. A single mortal allowed his selfish desires to doom an entire world to the Burning Legion? How utterly revolting. Die with the knowledge that you never had any hope of being anything more than the loathsome animal you always were."
As his body was flooded with an incomprehensible amount of arcane magic and his flesh slowly turned to crystal, the last thing that Gul'dan did before he died was curse the world for being so unfair.
All the while, Kil'jaeden's laughter echoed in his mind.
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Instead, he was consumed by nothing but a sense of foreboding.
Ever since they had made landfall in the Hillsbrad Foothills, the war had not gone at all as Orgrim had planned. Despite the superior strength and ferocity of the Horde, the Alliance had proven themselves to be a far greater enemy than he had ever believed possible. That was especially the case once they began sending their monsters to kill the Horde's brave warriors.
The spider creatures that the humans referred to as 'nerubians' were a nightmare to fight on the battlefield. Their arachnathids constantly ambushed Orgrim's warriors from beneath the ground and swarms of their skitterers devoured fully grown orcs in less than thirty seconds. Their flyers caused constant problems for the Horde's undead dragons and the standard nerubian soldiers charged through the Horde ranks as if they were human cavalry. They even possessed powerful mages who were more than capable of challenging the Horde's own spell casters.
Despite all of that, no other variety of nerubian caused more problems for the Horde than the Spiderlords and their pet Jormungars.
Orgrim had seen more than a few battles lost because they lacked the ability to counter the hateful worms that the Alliance used to collapse the Horde's defensive lines. If his people still had any shamans capable of communing with the elements, this wouldn't have been a problem.
When he had first allied with Zul'Jin and the rest of the trolls, there had been a part of him that had hoped the troll priests and witch doctors would be able to help guide his people back to the spirits of the land. However, the elements remained silent to his people, and any hope he might have once possessed had already faded away.
The Spiderlords, on the other hand, were massive and intelligent behemoths. The nerubian giants tore through the Horde lines whenever they stepped onto the battlefield. Orgrim had long lost the ability to feel fear, but if he still could, he imagined that the Spiderlords would inspire such a feeling. Throughout the war, the only ones who had succeeded in killing the creatures were the Death Knight Teron Gorefield and that traitorous vermin Gul'dan.
At the thought of Gul'dan, Orgrim couldn't help but let out a shout of rage as he crushed the skull of another human.
Once it became clear that their enemy was much more powerful than expected, Gul'dan had abandoned the Horde along with the entire Stormreaver clan and anyone else who would follow him at the first opportunity. Orgrim wanted nothing more than to hunt down the traitor, but that wasn't possible when his Horde was being picked apart from every side.
The damned elves were making constant attacks while retreating behind their impenetrable barrier while the rest of the Alliance were constantly attacking them from the west. The gryphon-riding dwarves attacked them from the air along with the nerubian's flyers, and Orgrim had even received reports that the Twilight Hammer clan's camp had been destroyed far behind the front lines!
He had no idea how the Alliance had accomplished such a feat, but there simply wasn't any time for him to learn more. The enemies of the Horde had smelt weakness and were attacking with the ferocity of a rylak.
Only recently, Orgrim had decided that any further attempts to attack the elves would be useless. The leader of their troll allies, Zul'jin, had argued furiously against the decision, but Orgrim needed to make the best choice for the Horde as a whole. Their food supplies were running out and an army as large as theirs could only be sustained if they were making constant progress. He had decided to direct the Horde toward Capital City and forage more supplies from the human territories. That ended their alliance with Zul'jin, and the trolls broke ties with them to continue their fruitless struggle against the high elves while the Horde moved on.
Unfortunately, progress had stalled.
The humans native to the Alterac Mountains were far more familiar with their land than they were, and the Alliance's jormungars made passing through such terrain all but impossible. The path through the fertile farmlands known as Eastweald was much more open, but it had already been heavily fortified by the Alliance.
Recently, Orgrim had found himself being forced to face the possibility that the Horde might actually lose this war.
If such a thing was to happen, then there would truly be no hope for his people. Draenor was a slowly dying world that grew more hostile with every passing day, and Orgrim had no illusions that the Alliance wouldn't take back every inch of land that his people had taken from them. If there was one thing that he had learned over the past few years on this alien world, it was that humans weren't so different from orcs when angered.
If Orgrim were in their position, he would wipe every single member of the Horde from the face of the world so that they would never again become a threat. He didn't know if the humans would go to such lengths, but he wouldn't be surprised if they did.
Orgrim was suddenly pulled from his thoughts as one of the humans took advantage of his distraction and carved a line through his arm with their blade. Feeling the familiar rush of anger and power flow through him, Orgrim roared in fury and swung his hammer with such strength that the human's head completely left his body.
Enough of this!
Orgrim banished his weak thoughts and threw himself into the battle with a frenzied wrath. If his people were fated to die, then they would do so as true orcs should! Bloody and thrashing in the heat of battle with a weapon in their hand and fury in their heart!
Nobody would ever dare to say that the orcs had dishonored their ancestors by dying quietly. He would tear through the humans and leave a permanent mark on this world that would be remembered for ages to come.
Orgrim didn't know how long it had been since he had lost himself in the bloodlust of battle, but he was only pulled back to reality when an earthshaking roar passed over the battlefield. When he looked up to see what manner of creature had caused such a sound, Orgrim once again felt the glimmering of fear for the first time since his people had been twisted by the magic of the warlocks.
Flying toward them was a massive red dragon far larger than any Orgrim had ever seen. He had participated in the Horde's hunts when they drove Draenor's Magnaron to extinction; at the time, Orgrim had thought he would never see a living creature larger than them.
He now knew he was wrong.
The creature's mere presence caused a hush to fall over the battlefield until Orgrim pulled himself from his shock and shouted at his Death Knights to engage the beast. Given what the Horde had done to the corpses of its kin, there was no reason to doubt that the creature was an enemy.
The Death Knights hesitated for a moment, but eventually mounted their undead dragons and took to the skies. The undead mounts of the Death Knights were much smaller than the beast flying toward them, but Orgrim hoped that their superior numbers would be enough to bring the behemoth down.
More of their Death Knights had grown skilled enough to control the undead dragons over time, and Cho'gall's disgusting book continued to lead them to useful corpses. The Horde was now in possession of eight undead dragons, which they used to great effect against the Alliance.
Unfortunately, it almost immediately became apparent to Orgrim that his Death Knights had no hope against the beast. With a furious glint in its eyes, the massive dragon inhaled deeply and released a breath of fire large enough to completely engulf half of the Death Knights and their mounts in flames, instantly reducing them to ash. A swipe of its claws held enough power to annihilate another two undead dragons, and a swing of its tail sent the last two crashing into the earth like meteorites.
The Horde's most powerful weapons were destroyed in the span of a few breaths.
Orgrim was so shocked by the sight that he did nothing as the dragon flew in his direction and landed on the battlefield directly in front of him. A single beat of its wings created a powerful gale that sent every orc near it stumbling back. The enormous creature looked down at Orgrim for a few moments before it suddenly began to shrink, much to his confusion.
Once it was finished changing its shape, Orgrim found himself looking at a female elf that was significantly taller than any other that he had seen. She wore dark red armor with golden trimming and had two large horns emerging from his head. There was a heavy… presence about her that prevented the nearby orcs from approaching her as she walked toward Orgrim.
As soon as she drew close enough to be heard, the creature wearing the skin of a woman called out to him. "Are you Orgrim Doomhammer, Warchief of the Horde?"
"I am. Who are you, creature?" Orgrim asked as he held tightly onto his weapon.
"I am Alestrasza, Queen of the Dragons and Aspect of Life, and I've come to put an end to this war. Instruct your warriors to lay down their weapons," the woman declared, her voice booming over the battlefield. "I swear that you will all be treated fairly as prisoners, despite the many atrocities you have committed against the mortals of this continent and your acts of desecration against my own kin."
Orgrim almost wanted to laugh at the woman's audacity. Instead, he simply grew angry.
"The Horde will never surrender! We conquered our entire world, and it is our destiny to conquer this one as well! If you mean to stand in our way, then we will destroy you just as we did every other obstacle in our path to glory, beast!" Orgrim bellowed before lifting his war hammer and charging the dragon woman with as much speed as could muster.
If the dragon was foolish enough to appear in front of him in such a weak form, then he had every intention of taking advantage.
Orgrim dashed to the so-called 'Queen of the Dragons' faster than most warriors would have been capable of and swung at the woman's head. He knew that his attack carried enough force to even tear through hardened steel, so Orgrim expected the woman to either dodge to the side or have her head crushed like an egg.
Instead, Orgrim was struck dumb as the woman calmly raised a single hand and caught his hammer moments before it was about to strike her head. It felt to him as if he had just attempted to strike a solid plate of adamantite. He attempted to pull his weapon back, but the woman didn't even stumble as he heaved with all of his strength.
"An impressive weapon. Forged within the heat of elemental lava and carrying with it powerful ancestral magic," said the woman as she studied the weapon, Doomhammer, that had been passed down through Orgrim's family for generations, not even seeming to notice Orgrim's efforts. "After all the horrors that you have unleashed on the mortals of this land, I don't believe you deserve such an artifact."
Orgrim was helpless to do anything as the dragon woman easily pulled Doomhammer from his grasp as if he were a child and knocked him to the ground with a single swing to his stomach. He burned with humiliation as the dragon placed a single foot on his chest in front of the astonished gazes of his warriors. Orgrim tried desperately to push her off, but her strength was so immense that he felt as if he was trying to move a mountain.
"This war is over! Your Warchief lies defeated and you have no hope of victory. Your shadowy masters, the demons and black dragons, can not help you. If you value the lives of your family and of your children, you will surrender now!" the dragon woman called out, her voice easily traveling over the silent battlefield.
As his warriors continued to hold on to their weapons and glare unyieldingly at the woman, Orgrim couldn't help but laugh. "You fool. The Horde will never yield to you. We would rather die with honor than live in cowardice!"
The woman looked down at Orgrim with something vaguely akin to pity. "If your people refuse to surrender, there will be no battle. There will be no honor. Instead, there will only be fire."
Before Orgrim could reply, he was suddenly interrupted by the echoing chorus of distant roars. With dread, he looked to the source and saw nearly a hundred fully grown dragons flying toward the battlefield.
"What you see, Warchief, is a portion of the Red Dragonflight," said the woman as she watched the approaching dragons with fondness.
A… portion? Orgrim thought with deep shock.
"The rest are attacking Horde positions elsewhere. They've been given orders to capture those who peacefully surrender but make no mistake, if you do not surrender then this entire army will become ash," the woman said firmly, looking down at him with a weary gaze. "It would pain me deeply to end so many lives, but the Horde is a great threat to Azeroth and I am sworn to protect it. The choice is yours, Warchief. Will you lead your people to a swift end, or will you allow them the chance to live despite the many terrible things they have done?"
Orgrim was silent as he stared up at the approaching dragons and struggled with the choice presented to him. After some time, a wave of deep resignation flowed through him as he made his decision and nodded.
Ordering his generals to surrender was the most painful experience of Orgrim's life, and the jubilant cheers of the Alliance only made it worse. The other chieftains were reluctant, but the threat before them was insurmountable and Orgrim swore to them that he would be the one to suffer the dishonor of surrender. After receiving such an assurance, they all began to throw down their weapons one after another.
As he was led away in chains, Orgrim couldn't help but wonder what god he had offended for the Horde to be defeated in such a humiliating manner.
Staring straight ahead from the prow of the ship his minions had stolen from the Horde, Gul'dan could feel his excitement grow as he approached his destiny.
He was moments away from reaching the so-called 'Tomb of Sargeras' and seizing hold of the artifact that would transform him into a god. His journey had taken from far, from his beginning as a worthless cripple to the most powerful warlock to ever walk the face of Draenor. He had made deals with demons, orchestrated a war between his people and the Draenei, and corrupted the elements of Draenor so thoroughly that the world was irrecoverable.
All of this, Gul'dan had done in the pursuit of power, and it had been worth it.
His only regret was that he had allowed himself to be humiliated by the pitiful excuse for a Warchief, Orgrim Doomhammer. Unlike his even more pitiful predecessor, Blackhand, Doomhammer had never trusted him and took every possible opportunity to degrade and threaten Gul'dan.
He wished that he could see the look on the fool's face once he realized that Gul'dan had taken a sizable portion of his forces and abandoned the Horde. He knew that his actions didn't have any particular impact on the outcome of the war—it was clear to anyone paying attention in the past few months that the Horde was going to lose—but Gul'dan knew that the Warchief must have been utterly furious regardless.
Their meaningless war didn't matter. Once Gul'dan became a god, he would put both the Alliance and the Horde under his control. Kil'jaeden had made a mistake when he told him about this place, and Gul'dan fully intended to take advantage of the power contained within. According to the demon, the Tomb of Sargeras was currently beneath the waves near a chain of islands to the west of the Eastern Kingdoms.
It would take an act of extreme power to raise the tomb from the sea, but Gul'dan was confident in his ability to do so. After several more minutes of sailing, Gul'dan sensed the tomb's potent magical presence and ordered the members of the Stormreaver clan sailing the ship to bring them above it.
Just as he was about to begin the process of raising the tomb, Gul'dan could feel the furious presence of Kil'jaeden in his mind as the demon attempted to contact him.
He had grown powerful enough that the demon wouldn't be able to form a magical connection with Gul'dan without his consent. Still, he felt like he would dearly enjoy the opportunity to mock his former master before his apotheosis, so Gul'dan allowed a weak connection to form between the two of them.
"Gul'dan, what have you done?" the enraged voice of Kil'jaeden bellowed in his mind. Faced with the demon's anger, Gul'dan felt nothing but smugness and pride. "You were ordered to aid the Horde against the Alliance and prepare this world for our arrival! Yet you've abandoned them at the first opportunity in a mad attempt to seize power that you cannot hope to control? I'm disappointed in you, little orc. I did not think you were so utterly foolish."
"Even with my help, the Horde was never going to defeat the Alliance," Gul'dan responded, sneering at the arrogant demon. "If you thought they could last for long against those cursed insects, then you are a far bigger fool than I, Kil'jaeden. Besides, why should I resign myself to being your servant while your master's corpse is so readily available? Once I absorb its power, there will be no force in this world capable of controlling me. You would be wise to reconsider how you speak to me, demon."
"I have seen more of the cosmos than you could possibly fathom, Gul'dan. Yet I have only rarely seen anyone as arrogant and reckless as yourself," said Kil'jaeden, his anger cooling into something more focused. "I had simply planned to quietly watch as the demons within the tomb tore you to pieces, but I had not expected there to be a new ward surrounding the tomb, or that you would so carelessly trigger it."
Gul'dan's felt his sneer drop as he heard the demon's words. Kil'jaeden was not so stupid to utter such an easily verifiable lie, so he immediately cast a spell on his surroundings meant to reveal any hidden magic.
If he had been slightly less powerful, Gul'dan would not have been able to find the ward at all. Its presence was so insignificant that he could barely tell that it existed, yet once he actually managed to spot it, Gul'dan's heart fell at the unfathomable potency of the arcane magic used to create it.
Whoever created this ward was powerful… too powerful.
"What is this, Kil'jaeden?! You said that the natives of this world wouldn't be monitoring the tomb!" Gul'dan yelled out loud, not caring about his image as the Stormreaver orcs looked at him as if he was insane.
"They shouldn't have been. The only mortal to know of this place was Medivh and his mother, Aegwynn. The only other being who could have knowledge of the Tomb would be Malygos, Aspect of Magic," said Kil'jaeden, his voice smug as he savored Gul'dan's panic. "He was not worth considering until recently, but the dragons should still not have had any reason to believe someone might attempt to access the tomb. I'm quite curious as to how they knew to expect you, Gul'dan. Perhaps you can ask Malygos while he's slaughtering you and your worthless servants."
Gul'dan didn't want to believe the demon's words, but the evidence of their truth was all around him. Now that he knew what to look for, he could practically sense a terrifying presence watching him through the wards.
Gul'dan ordered his followers to prepare for battle, but they had little time to do so before a swirling portal of violet magic opened on the deck of the ship. Out of it stepped what appeared to be a blue-haired elf with bright glowing eyes and scales, but Gul'dan could sense the truth behind the creature's visage.
"Oh? You're truly here then? How interesting," the dragon said mildly, sweeping his gaze over Gul'dan and his servants.
"How did you know that I would be here?" Gul'dan furiously demanded as he prepared himself to throw Fel flame at the creature.
"You must be the Burning Legion's latest puppet, Gul'dan. I have no intention of answering your questions, mortal. Die ignorant."
Gul'dan was just barely able to redirect the spell that the dragon sent at him toward one of the nearby ogre magi. He watched in horror as the ogre's flesh immediately crystalized and then shattered into dust. Without the slightest hesitation, Gul'dan ordered his servants to attack and kill the dragon.
He had gone to great lengths to be certain that those present would be utterly loyal to him, so Gul'dan was satisfied to see that they obeyed his orders without question. Their loyalty made it much easier for him to step back and focus on his connection to Kil'jaeden while the dragon carelessly slaughtered them.
"Demon! Grant me the power to slay this creature!"
Kil'jaeden's response was both immediate and incredulous. "After such blatant betrayal, you still possess the audacity to ask me for power? Watching your death will give me nothing but pleasure, Gul'dan. What makes you believe for even a moment that I would grant you any amount of power?"
"Do you not wish to use this opportunity to kill one of the Burning Legion's greatest enemies?" asked Gul'dan, a hint of desperation creeping into his voice as he watched the ongoing slaughter. At the rate the dragon was tearing through his servants, he had a mere few seconds before the creature turned its attention to him. "Grant me this power and I will use it to slay Malygos and open the Legion's path to Azeroth!"
Through their connection, Gul'dan could feel Kil'jaeden's presence shift from mocking doubt to cunning thoughtfulness to malevolent satisfaction, all within the space of a heartbeat. Gul'dan wasn't sure why, but at that moment his instincts told him that would come to deeply regret the plea that he had just made.
Before he could think about that feeling any further, Gul'dan suddenly felt a flood of Fel magic pour through the connection between him and Kil'jaeden. As more power than he had ever felt flowed through his body, Gul'dan felt as if his very body had transcended some barrier he had never known existed.
Turning to the dragon just as it killed the last of his servants, Gul'dan laughed uproariously and let forth a stream of Fel fire that turned everything between him and the dragon to ash. The corpses of the Stormreaver clan melted away in seconds and it seemed as if the entire ship had been set aflame.
It would be troublesome to raise the tomb once the ship was destroyed, but it was simply more important to kill the dragon with his full power.
Gul'dan knew intimately the power of Fel magic and that his fires had the ability to destroy everything that they touched, whether it be bodies, magic, or even souls. Nothing in this world could survive the power he now held at his fingertips!
"I would almost be impressed if this power was your own."
To Gul'dan's great shock, the dragon easily passed through the flames no being should have been able to survive, as the very space surrounding its body seemed to bend and twist the Fel fire away. Gul'dan roared in fury and increased the intensity of his flames, but the dragon ignored him.
"But you are merely a pathetic little vermin borrowing strength from those so far above you."
Before Gul'dan could react, the dragon grabbed him by the throat and slowly lifted him into the air. As he struggled to breathe, Malygos pulled Gul'dan close and looked deeply into his eyes before speaking. "Now, let me see if everything that I've heard about you is accurate."
Gul'dan attempted to scream in pain as his mind was ripped apart and his memories meticulously examined, but the hand around his throat prevented him from doing so. Eventually, the dragon retreated from his mind and looked at him with a sneer on his face.
"Disgusting. A single mortal allowed his selfish desires to doom an entire world to the Burning Legion? How utterly revolting. Die with the knowledge that you never had any hope of being anything more than the loathsome animal you always were."
As his body was flooded with an incomprehensible amount of arcane magic and his flesh slowly turned to crystal, the last thing that Gul'dan did before he died was curse the world for being so unfair.
All the while, Kil'jaeden's laughter echoed in his mind.
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So how much has this chapter screwed up the legions plans? I mean with no horde warlocks I believe there should be no 2 headed trolls (I believe that was guldans attempt to make a stronger troll though that may be fanon I've never played the games.)
Just wondering has anyone realized the mc knows more than he should? Though I think if they did his mind would already have been ripped apart.
Just wondering has anyone realized the mc knows more than he should? Though I think if they did his mind would already have been ripped apart.
- Location
- America
Pretty much fucked. Ner'zhul might, might, have had his future not being the Lich King, but he hates the Legion enough to do his damnest to screw them over as a matter of course. The Horde will probobly end up in, hope not as fucking awful, internment camps.
Yeah, I think the single greatest demonic prescense that isn't the absolute mess that is Karazan is the High Elves pet/food source.
Trolls? Are you utterly confusing them with ogres?
Do you mean two headed ogre's? cause they are a natural phenomenon on the orcs home world.
Red_Faux
私を終わらせる
- Location
- 'Straya M8
Couple hundred thousand lives for Gul'dans death?
I mean, moral calculus is a terrible practise, but...
Worth.
Edit: I swear to god, this better not be a scheme to infect Mally with Fel. Please just be Kil'jaeden laughing at Gul'dans misfortune.
I mean, moral calculus is a terrible practise, but...
Worth.
Edit: I swear to god, this better not be a scheme to infect Mally with Fel. Please just be Kil'jaeden laughing at Gul'dans misfortune.
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xbox432
Lover of Editing
Honestly, I was thinking this was Kil'jaeden's way of giving Gul'dan false hope of victory, then laughing at the despair his former slave was going through.
Eh... I'd say about half of them? LoL, even at the very end he could fathom the thought of the Orcs being in the wrong. Now I'm curious to see exactly what will happen. Because with Lorderon in shambles and Stormwind broken? I just don't see the the internment camps happening. Perhaps just push them back through the Dark Portal and say "Good luck!"?
Maybe Alexstrasza will do something with them? And please god, actually have one of the Aspects go and close the Dark Portal. Maylgos KNOWS about that damned thing. Other than his big sister trying to relocate the remaining survivors of that shattered world, there is no reason to leave that thing open.
Lastly, what are the chances there were some Troll scouts watching the Horde get absolutely demolished by Dragons? Because I can just imagine Zul'Jin wiping his brow as he thanks the Loa he broke off his alliance with the greenskins.
- Location
- Germany
- Pronouns
- He/She/They
Its some delicious irony: Malygos was worried that Alexstrasza would not be ready to kill Neltharion but he allowed Neltharion to escape because of his need to gloat.
Chapter 51
Krivax wondered if there had ever been a time in Capital City's history during which the Cathedral of Lordaeron had been so occupied.
The nerubian delegation had been given prime seating near the front of the cathedral, a testament to how crucial Azjol-Nerub's efforts were in fighting against the Horde. He was certainly glad for it because there was no chance that Krivax would have been able to get decent seating otherwise.
Every single seat in the massive cathedral had been taken as the people of Capital City arrived to attend Archbishop Faol's funeral. The man had already been revered in life, but the sacrifice he had made to kill the C'thrax had turned him into a legend. The cathedral, which was already the largest in the Eastern Kingdoms, had actually needed to be spatially expanded to allow more people to pay their last respects to the Archbishop. There were even people gathered outside in the square in front of the cathedral who were listening in on the sermon and the funeral rites fervently through the open door.
Krivax had no doubt that processions of ordinary citizens would continue through the church to pay their last respects to the Archbishop for several days.
Every important person in Capital City, from the founding members of the Knights of the Silver Hand to the various rulers of the Eastern Kingdoms, made speeches after the funeral rites.
Currently, the newly appointed Archbishop Benedictus was giving his own passionate speech as he sang praises about his predecessor and mentor.
It was a miracle that the Church of Holy Light had been repaired and cleansed of any Void corruption in time for the funeral. The effort involved clearly showed that the rulers and bishops were deeply concerned about the morale of the citizens of Lordaeron. After suffering an attack severe enough to shake the foundations of the kingdom, Krivax assumed that the leadership was searching desperately for a way to reassure the people.
Countless lives had been lost, Lordaeron's economy was nearing a state of collapse, and King Menethil was still comatose and unable to lead his people. Apparently, he had become severely contaminated by the spheres of concentrated Void thrown at the palace when the C'thrax attacked the city, and he had then become further injured by one of the many eldritch monstrosities it had created. The efforts to heal him were inhibited by the Void contamination, but he was lucky enough to have survived thanks to specially prepared potions supplied by Azjol-Nerub and the careful administration by priests wielding the Light.
Krivax was glad that the Order of Kal'tut had put a lot of effort into creating methods of healing Void-inflicted injuries, but there was a limit to what could be done.
Krivax was also affected by the low morale of the citizens in the city and had mixed feelings about the consequences of his decisions. He had kept going over what he could have done differently in his head and had been unable to come up with a clear answer.
"Krivax."
"Huh?" Krivax snapped out of his thoughts and turned to see the troubled gaze of Masruk staring up at him.
"I was going to ask for your opinion of Archbishop Benedictus, but you failed to respond despite several attempts to gain your attention," said Masruk, his expression one of worry. "You have been very inattentive recently. Are you unwell?"
Krivax didn't really want to think about Archbishop Benedictus. He was another person who had become a villain in the original timeline, but as far as Krivax was concerned, he would handle the Archbishop in the same way he had 'handled' Kel'Thuzad, Kael'thas, and Malygos.
Keep an eye on him and only worry about him when he actually became a problem. Krivax already had enough on his plate as it was. Besides, considering all the changes in the timeline, there was no guarantee that the Archbishop would be corrupted by the void cults.
"I'm fine, Masruk. I've just found it hard to sleep lately," said Krivax, attempting to reassure his friend. "Queen Kithix has forbidden me from using any enchantments or alchemical products on myself until she performs the ritual to regrow my missing leg. Once that is done, I'll be able to get a full night's sleep again and I'll be as good as new."
"It's not good that you require such things to properly sleep, Krivax," Masruk said disapprovingly. "During my training, I was taught that Warriors shouldn't become reliant on items or external forces that we might not always possess. I believe that lesson applies here."
I know that… but it's not like there's much that I can do about it.
"You're right, Masruk. I'll try my best to use them sparingly," Krivax lied. He appreciated that his friend was worried, but he had more important things to worry about than unhealthy sleeping habits.
Krivax could tell that his words hadn't convinced Masruk at all, but he was thankfully spared from having to talk about the matter further once Queen Regent Lianne Menethil stepped up to the podium and the cathedral fell utterly silent.
This was the first public appearance of Lordaeron's new ruler since she had taken on the regency, and everyone wanted to hear what she would say. Her hair was silver with age and her face showed signs of deep weariness, but she also held an air of dignity that had been cultivated over several decades of being a queen.
Young Arthas, the future king of Lordaeron, was seated next to the podium with red eyes from tears.
Krivax didn't know much about Lianne Menethil as she was a character who hadn't been particularly expanded upon in the lore, but he could see the determination in her eyes. He couldn't imagine what it must feel like to be called upon to rule over a kingdom facing such catastrophic circumstances, but he hoped she would be able to rise to the challenge.
"Dear citizens of Lordaeron and honored guests from across the Eastern Kingdoms and beyond," The Queen Regent began, her voice steady and regal. "We are here to mourn the loss of a great man, Archbishop Alonsus Faol, who gave his life to protect this city from a threat that would have been unimaginable to us a mere few weeks ago. His compassion, courage, and faith in the Holy Light will be forever remembered and honored by the people of Lordaeron."
Similar words had already been spoken several times during the ceremony, but Krivax could still see many people being deeply moved every time. He could even feel the Light surge around Anub'rekhan faintly at times during the speeches.
"He was a man who dedicated a lifetime of service to the people of the Eastern Kingdoms, regardless of what nation or land they may have hailed from," Lianne Menethil continued solemnly. "Whether that service took the form of providing aid to the refugees of Stormwind or forming the Knights of the Silver Hand so the faithful might have the means to fight back against the Horde, his influence can be felt throughout these lands. Although the Horde has now been defeated, there are many who would not have lived to see this day without the efforts of Archbishop Alonsus Faol."
Krivax turned his attention to Prince Varian Wrynn and saw him nodding along with tears in his eyes. It was difficult to overstate how much the Church of the Holy Light had done for the people of Stormwind since their kingdom was destroyed.
"The end of the war should have been a joyous occasion, but I have personally experienced how difficult it is to feel joy when your life has been upended by forces beyond your control," said Lianne Menethil, her voice wavering slightly as sorrow crept into her eyes. "I know many of you feel as I do, and I would like to offer a word of advice that was once offered to me by Archbishop Faol, 'It is when times feel darkest that we must most seek the Light.'"
Krivax was slightly startled as the Light around Anub'rekhan flared more than it ever had during the ceremony. Ever since the mission to secure the Dragon Soul, the Spiderlord had been much more attuned to the Light, and Krivax couldn't help but find it distracting.
"If you cannot find the Light then find your neighbors, because it is during times like these that the people of Lordaeron must stand united," the Queen Regent said with determination in her voice. "I knew Archbishop Faol for my entire life, and I know he would believe in our ability to rise above these challenges. As your Queen Regent, I intend to do everything I can to honor his memory, protect my people from harm, and help those hurt by the Horde's cruelty. I intend to live my life such that when I rejoin the Light, I can greet Archbishop Faol and truthfully say I did all that I could, and I know the people of Lordaeron will do the same. Thank you all."
As the Queen Regent retreated from the podium, the audience immediately broke out into cheers. Krivax could see many people crying throughout the cathedral, from the poorest of peasants to the richest of nobles. The C'thrax's attack on Capital City was one of the most devastating events in Lordaeron's history, and there were few people who hadn't suffered as a result.
"She's a talented speaker," Hadix observed as he scanned his gaze over the crowd. "I wonder if she will be as skilled a politician. Though, I suppose you'll have the opportunity to learn first hand, apprentice."
Krivax groaned at the reminder. The political discussions over everything that had happened had been pushed back until after the funeral, but they couldn't really wait any longer.
There had simply been too many important things that had happened. The war with the Horde had been ended by the Aspects, a dragon had been outed as a member of Dalaran's ruling body, and a monster of unknown origin had upended the Eastern Kingdom's political landscape by attacking Capital City. The consequences of the events of the last few weeks would be immense.
There were some matters that couldn't be decided upon without the inclusion of Ironforge and Gnomeregan, such as the final fate of the captured members of the Horde, but there were still many things to discuss.
The Red Dragonflight had sent a few dragons to break the siege on the two cities, but there were simply too many matters to attend to after a year of being besieged for them to prioritize diplomacy. Last Krivax had heard, they were still in the process of reasserting control over Khaz Modan and clearing out any remnants of the Horde that might still be in their territory.
The High King had made it clear that Krivax would be sent down south to establish relations between Azjol-Nerub and the two nations in the near future. That coincided well with Krivax's plans, as the Titan facility of Uldaman was buried deep within the mountains of Khaz Modan…
The ceremony didn't last for much longer after the Queen Regent concluded her speech. The citizens of Capital City continued to pour into the cathedral to pay their respects to Archbishop Faol, but Krivax made his way out of the building with the rest of the nerubian delegation.
It was a bit annoying to walk with only three legs, but he had learned how to do so well enough that his pace was only slightly slowed.
Most of the nerubians left to return to their enclave in Dalaran, but Krivax and Anub'rekhan split off and started heading toward the palace so they could attend the meeting. Hadix and Queen Kithix had both been offered invitations, but neither of them cared at all for diplomacy and simply refused to attend. Anub'rekhan was a fair bit more personable with non-nerubians, but Krivax wouldn't be surprised to hear that he was only attending because Azjol-Nerub needed someone to watch over him.
Once they arrived, Krivax was surprised to find the palace's halls already large enough to accommodate the Spiderlord, presumably thanks to Antonidas. One of this King's Guard arrived to escort the two of them to a seldomly used meeting room, as the Imperial Chamber where such discussions were usually held wasn't currently available.
Krivax could see that much of the building was still damaged as they walked through the palace's halls, but the servants continued to go about their business as they did their best to keep everything running.
Krivax and Anub'rekhan reached their destination after a few minutes and the King's Guard announced their arrival before opening the door to the meeting room. Once he was inside, Krivax immediately swept his gaze through the room to see who was attending as he made his way to the section set aside for Azjol-Nerub.
He wasn't particularly surprised to see that the rulers from each of the human kingdoms were present, including a peg-legged Daelin Proudmoore, along with Archbishop Benedictus. Krivax was sure they all had important matters to attend to in their own nations, but the funeral of Archbishop Faol was an event of such diplomatic importance that none of them could afford to miss it. The Church of the Holy Light was the predominant religion in every human nation aside from Kul'Tiras, so the reverence felt toward the Archbishop was one shared by most of humanity.
In addition to the human rulers was an elf man who Krivax assumed to be Grand Magister Belo'vir. Although King Anastarian was busy attending to his people in the aftermath of the war, Krivax had heard that the high elves would be sending over Belo'vir to represent the Convocation of Silvermoon. As the Grand Magister, he was the second most powerful individual in Silvermoon's politics, which showed the seriousness with which the elves were now treating these matters.
Krivax didn't know much about Quel'Thalas' internal politics, but he had no doubt that the war had left a deep impact on the elves.
Also present was Kurdran Wildhammer, High Thane of the Wildhammer clan and Aerie Peak. While not as isolationist as the high elves the gryphon-riding dwarves were a rare sight outside of the Hinterlands, but their presence had done much to help the Alliance counter the Horde's undead dragons.
Aside from the elves and dwarves, there was only one other party being represented in this meeting, although Krivax felt like they were probably the most consequential. Alexstrasza, Queen of the Dragons, was sitting quietly around the table placed in the center of the room with Krasus by her side.
Krivax couldn't help but notice that Krasus and Grand Magus Antonidas were very deliberately not looking in one another's direction.
"Vizier Krivax, Spiderlord Anub'rekhan, thank you for joining us so promptly," said Queen Regent Liane Menethil, smiling politely as they entered the room. "With your arrival, everyone is here and we can begin the meeting. I know that everyone is busy given all that has happened, so I shall refrain from wasting all of our time by skipping the pleasantries."
"That sounds wise to me, Your Majesty," said King Perenolde of Alterac, nodding toward the Queen Regent. "But if I may ask, is it truly wise for your son to be in attendance for this meeting? He is quite young and these matters can become a tad dull for someone his age."
"As there is a significant likelihood that Prince Arthas is destined to take the throne sooner than we had anticipated, I have decided that he will be present to observe my diplomatic meetings," Liane Menethil said firmly as she laid a hand on her son's shoulder before gesturing toward Prince Wrynn who was seated next to the delegation from Stormwind. "Besides, my son is hardly the only young person observing this meeting."
The boy looked clearly overwhelmed by everything that was going on, but Krivax didn't blame him given the circumstances.
"Of course, Your Majesty," said King Perenolde, smiling genially as he leaned back in his seat.
"Before we begin this meeting, I'd prefer if we could all agree on the topics of conversation for this evening," said Queen Regent Menethil, her voice becoming regal as she addressed the room. "Subjects for discussion are a proposal to formalize a more permanent and expanded Alliance through a new treaty between its member nations, addressing the ongoing food crisis plaguing our nations, and determining the future course of action regarding the retreating Horde."
"Are we not going to decide what we should do with those already captured?" asked King Trollbane, earning a rare grunt of agreement from King Greymane.
"Such a decision cannot be made without representatives from Ironforge and Gnomeregan," Queen Regent Menethil explained. "I recommend that we organize a more formal political summit between the nations of the Eastern Kingdoms in the future to decide on the fate of the Horde, and what actions we should take in regard to the Dark Portal."
"I'm sure my fellow dwarves would appreciate that," said Thane Wildhammer, nodding approvingly.
That… was not going to be an easy conversation, and Krivax was very much not looking forward to it. His personal feelings toward the orcs were more than a little complicated.
As a fan of the Warcraft franchise, he'd had an okay impression of the orcs and the Horde in general. Most of the events in lore took place after they were freed from the blood curse plaguing their people and generally depicted them in a favorable light. Krivax had always known that they did and would do bad things during their history, but he had always just seen them as people.
After seeing the aftermath of the Second War with his own eyes, it was much more difficult for Krivax to look at the Horde in a neutral light. He sympathized with them as he understood that their actions were significantly influenced by the Fel magic coursing through their bodies, but did a lack of agency excuse their atrocities?
Did it bring back the men, women, and children who had been mercilessly slaughtered or soothe the anguish of those who had lost everything to the Horde?
It was a complicated ethical dilemma to which Krivax wasn't sure a correct answer existed. No matter what choice was made in regard to the Horde, there would be those who would be left unsatisfied.
He didn't believe they should all be just killed, but Krivax couldn't find it in himself to particularly blame those who would no doubt call for such actions. Especially since he knew the chances of the orcs being systematically exterminated were practically nonexistent due to Alexstrasza's continued intervention. The people of the Eastern Kingdoms didn't know the orcs as anything other than murderous savages incapable of even the slightest kindness, so it was understandable.
On a more pragmatic level, Krivax thought that the orcs could be used as a powerful military force against the various threats that Azeroth would face, if their race could be… rehabilitated.
But that was a matter that Krivax intended to address later. Any attempt to turn the Horde away from Fel magic and properly integrate them into Azeroth would be a project that spanned years, so Krivax still had time to make plans.
"What is there to decide? Just kill the savages and be done with it," Daelin Proudmoore said with a scowl.
"I understand that the Horde has committed many unspeakable acts of evil against your people, Admiral, but to return one atrocity with another will do nothing but set us all on a path of madness," said Alexstrasza, her expression one of empathy as she turned toward the Lord Admiral.
"You don't understand shit, 'Dragon Queen,'" said Daelin Proudmoore, spitting out Alexstrasza's title. "While you were off doing who knows what, my people were fighting and dying to stop those animals from slaughtering innocent people. Just because you decided one day to fly down from wherever you came from and grace us with your presence by ending this war with barely any effort, doesn't mean you get to lecture me on morality. I don't care about any so-called 'Fel magic' that was corrupting them, we would be better off with them gone."
After the C'thrax's attack on Capital City, the Dragonflights had already provided an explanation about Deathwing, the Burning Legion, and the orc Fel corruption to the various nations. Krivax wasn't certain how everyone was reacting behind the scenes but was glad that everyone now knew about the greatest threats to Azeroth.
The nobility in Lordaeron and Alterac, at least, had publicly disavowed House Prestor and everyone was keeping an eye out for Deathwing's children.
"That is enough! I would remind you that these matters will be discussed once Ironforge and Gnomeregan are able to join us," Queen Regent Menethil said firmly, ending the argument that had obviously been brewing. "They have suffered from the Horde as much as anyone else, and thus deserve to have a say in the matter."
"Of course, Your Majesty. It is the mortal races who have suffered the most from the Horde, which is why you should all have a say in their fate," said Alexstrasza, subtly reminding everyone that it was her Dragonflight who still held the Horde's leadership captive.
"If I may interrupt, are we not going to address the dragon in the room?" asked King Perenolde, glancing toward Krasus. "The fact that a member of the Dalaran's ruling body was secretly a member of the so-called 'Red Dragonflight' seems like an important matter to discuss. "
"The Council of Six considers that matter to be an internal one," said Grand Magus Antonidas, his expression not giving away any thoughts on the matter.
"Be that as it may, I would quite like to know if any of my advisors are secretly dragons," said King Perenolde, glancing toward Alexstrasza.
"To the best of my knowledge, they are not," Alexstrasza assured. "There are some among my Flight who choose to live amongst mortals, but Korialstrasz's circumstances were an exception."
Krivax didn't know how true that was, but there was nothing any of them could do to prove or disprove the Dragon Queen's words.
"Hmm. Very well," said King Perenolde, his eyes thoughtful.
"If there is nothing else, then I suggest we begin addressing the previously mentioned topics," said Queen Regent Menethil. After pausing for a moment to make sure there would be no more interruptions, she nodded and continued. "Let us first begin by discussing the fate of the Alliance, and what should be done with the organization now that the war has come to an end."
"Your majesty, Azjol-Nerub has a proposal that it would like to put forth on this matter," Krivax said immediately, drawing the attention of everyone in the room.
Once he received a nod of acknowledgment from the Queen Regent, Krivax took a deep breath as he prepared himself.
Shortly after the mission to secure the Dragon Soul, High King Anub'arak had contacted everyone involved and personally expressed Azjol-Nerub's gratitude for their service through a scrying crystal. When he spoke to Krivax, the High King had specifically informed him of his intention to create a dedicated department for diplomacy and that Krivax would be assigned there as a high-ranking member.
Azjol-Nerub was highly meritocratic and wasn't shy about rewarding those who performed exceptional deeds in service of the kingdom. Apparently, participating in a mission that helped save the Azjol-Nerub from an insane dragon powerful enough to collapse their underground kingdom around them was a big deal. At least, Krivax had gotten the impression that it was significant enough to wash away any residual distrust that came from being exposed as a member of the Order of Kal'tut.
It was sort of annoying that he would be transferred to a new department again so quickly, but the High King had made it clear that he would still be working closely with the Anomalous Magic Research Division.
The best part of it all, however, was that Krivax's position as a diplomat was now much more formal and he could send regular proposals to the High King. Now that his political power was much more secure, there were many options that had opened up for him that were previously impossible, his plan to change the Alliance for the better being one of them.
"With the war won and the Horde's threat drastically diminished, Azjol-Nerub believes it best if the Alliance was repurposed into an organization that would benefit us all in the long term," Krivax said once he finished gathering his thoughts. "To be more specific, we propose to create a regular council in which we can exchange information on any threats, determine solutions to crises faced by multiple nations, and negotiate future defense treaties if such a thing ever becomes needed."
Krivax knew that if left to its own devices, the Alliance in its current form would inevitably break apart without an external threat to justify its existence. In the original timeline, the Alliance had continued on for a few more years due to the worry that those who had escaped through the Dark Portal into Draenor would launch a second invasion.
After the intervention of Alexstrasza and the Red Dragonflight, such a worry simply didn't exist. A large majority of the Horde had already been successfully captured, with only a few scattered remnants fleeing into the countryside. In addition, any attempt from the orcs on Draenor to invade Azeroth would be swiftly ended by dragon fire.
If Krivax didn't do something about it, he was confident the Alliance would swiftly fall apart once they began arguing over what to do with the orcs, as it did in the original timeline. Therefore, his solution was to change it into an organization with much looser commitments that everyone could agree with.
It had taken some effort to convince the High King that joining such an organization would be in Azjol-Nerub's interest, but he was ultimately swayed by the fact that the commitments were minor and the benefits obvious.
Once it became time to deal with the Lich King or any other threats to Azeroth, Krivax was certain that the Alliance could be easily and quickly repurposed into a military alliance to deal with the threat.
"I doubt Quel'Thalas would benefit much from such an agreement," said Grand Magister Belo'vir. "Despite the unexpected danger poised by the Horde, our defenses were more than capable of halting their advance. Committing ourselves to intervene in the squabbles of foreign nations seems like it would be against our interest."
"Mutual defense agreements would only be negotiated once a new threat became clear," Krivax said calmly. "Quel'Thalas would face no obligation to involve itself in foreign conflicts if it chose not to do so."
"The High King would have not proposed such an arrangement otherwise," Anub'rekhan added.
"I have the opposite concern," said Anduin Lothar, speaking in his role as the regent ruler of Stormwind. "The Alliance should be strengthened, not weakened. It has only been a month since the Horde was routed and we're already prepared to discard the organization that allowed us to come together and defeat them? What madness is this?"
"The nerubians are merely being proactive, Supreme Commander," said King Perenolde, sounding pleased. "I understand you don't have much experience with politics, but it's perfectly clear to those of us who do that the Alliance must change if it is to continue in the long term and beyond a mere military alliance."
Krivax was pleased to see both King Greymane and Admiral Proudmoore nod in agreement and turned to address the concerns of Stormwind.
"Prince Varian, if such an organization had existed when the Horde first arrived on Azeroth, your kingdom would have never been forced to face them alone," said Krivax, looking toward the future king of Stormwind whose expression fell at the reminder of his kingdom's destruction. "Similarly, Lordaeron and the Church would have benefited if the danger of Deathwing and the Void was communicated more clearly in advance to such a council. I firmly believe that Azjol-Nerub would have intervened in this war far sooner if we had been informed of such an existential threat. Grand Magister Belo'vir must surely agree that the news of Zul'jin's escape and alliance with Horde would have enabled Quel'Thalas to better prepare for their invasion of your lands."
After he had presented his case, Krivax could tell that many of the rulers seemed receptive to his arguments, and those who previously weren't at least looked thoughtful. The discussion got heated at times as they argued over the details, but the various rulers at least seemed favorable to the changes and agreed to negotiate the matter further through their diplomats. Alexstrasza in particular seemed interested in having a method to easily keep informed on matters happening throughout the Eastern Kingdoms, and share information with the mortal races if necessary.
Krivax was happy with the progress, even if nothing definitive had been agreed upon. Such a significant matter couldn't be decided in a single day, after all. Afterward, the discussion quickly moved on to the ongoing food crisis, which was already dire even without taking the Horde into account.
Predictably, many of the rulers were more than a little reluctant to spend their citizen taxes on feeding the orcs while their own people were going hungry.
Alexstrasza and Archbishop Benedictus offered to use their resources to cleanse the Void corruption left behind by the C'thrax during its rampage toward Capital City. In addition, the Dragon Queen would send her Flight to promote the upcoming harvests of the various kingdoms, although she made it clear this wasn't a permanent solution.
There were a lot of people to feed, and the dragons weren't going to suddenly dedicate themselves to being farmers.
"I believe that the Harvest Witches and Thornspeakers contacted by Dalaran to control the jormungar can also help improve the harvest," Krivax suggested.
There weren't all that many of them, but every little bit helped.
Archmage Antonidus nodded with agreement and said, "There are also several specialists in Dalaran in nature magic and conjuring food who can help research a more long-term solution."
"Some of my folk practice shamanism, so we can help make the soil better for growing crops," Thane Wildhammer spoke up.
"Quel'Thalas has long been self-sufficient by feeding its people with food created through arcane magic," Grand Magister Belo'vir said pridefully. "We can perhaps open our food to foreign trade in light of these trying times."
It was fairly easy to get everyone to agree on promoting any method that might improve food security across the continent. Nobody wanted to experience the chaos that would occur if a famine swept through the Eastern Kingdoms while they were still reeling from the effects of the Second War.
The final topic of discussion was how everyone intended to deal with the Horde forces that had not yet been captured. Alexstrasza categorically refused to deploy her Dragonflight against the trolls, explaining that they were natives of Azeroth and not corrupted by the Burning Legion as the orcs were. She was willing to help with any particularly large groups of Horde remnants, but it was the Alliance who would actually need to find them.
The kingdoms quickly agreed to organize scouting parties that would be dedicated to searching for any groups of orcs, which reminded Krivax of another matter he wanted to mention.
"Before this meeting is concluded, there's one thing that Azjol-Nerub would like to announce," said Krivax once the discussion was about to end. "Our kingdom has decided to create two settlements in the Eastern Kingdoms, and has negotiated agreements with Alterac and Stormwind to do so."
Ignoring the shocked exclamations of some of the gathered rulers, Krivax retrieved a map marking the proposed settlements from his spatial bag and placed it on the table. After several moments of examination, King Trollbane was the first to react.
"You intend to construct a settlement on the border between Stromgarde and Alterac?" King Trollbane asked pointedly.
"The settlement in Alterac will be smaller than the one in Stormwind, and will primarily be used for the purpose of facilitating trade and mining," Krivax explained. "This agreement will be very beneficial to the economies of both Stromgarde and Alterac."
It was he who argued to the High King and the council that Azjol-Nerub should focus on the settlement in Stormwind so that they could avoid political entanglements as much as possible. It hadn't taken much convincing, as the High King seemed to be of a similar mind.
He could have perhaps been able to argue for scrapping the Alterac settlement altogether but there was some benefit to keeping it despite the potential entanglements it would cause. If Azjol-Nerub had a settlement in Alterac, then it would be much easier for Krivax to make contact with the only orc clan on Azeroth who hadn't entered into a pact with the Burning Legion if he needed to.
After all, he knew that the Frostwolf clan had abandoned the Horde early on and settled in the mountains of Alterac without anyone noticing.
Krivax could tell that a few of the rulers were dissatisfied by the news, Trollbane most of all, but there wasn't anything they could really do about it. Azjol-Nerub had already concluded negotiations with Stormwind and Alterac, plus they had earned a significant amount of political capital through their contributions to the war effort.
As everyone said their farewells and agreed to continue the relevant discussions through their diplomats, Krivax couldn't help but feel a little bit good about how things were going. Until now, he'd been unable to implement many of his ideas due to his lack of official diplomatic status.
Now that Krivax had more solid authority and a direct line of communication with the High King, there were suddenly many more options available to him…
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The nerubian delegation had been given prime seating near the front of the cathedral, a testament to how crucial Azjol-Nerub's efforts were in fighting against the Horde. He was certainly glad for it because there was no chance that Krivax would have been able to get decent seating otherwise.
Every single seat in the massive cathedral had been taken as the people of Capital City arrived to attend Archbishop Faol's funeral. The man had already been revered in life, but the sacrifice he had made to kill the C'thrax had turned him into a legend. The cathedral, which was already the largest in the Eastern Kingdoms, had actually needed to be spatially expanded to allow more people to pay their last respects to the Archbishop. There were even people gathered outside in the square in front of the cathedral who were listening in on the sermon and the funeral rites fervently through the open door.
Krivax had no doubt that processions of ordinary citizens would continue through the church to pay their last respects to the Archbishop for several days.
Every important person in Capital City, from the founding members of the Knights of the Silver Hand to the various rulers of the Eastern Kingdoms, made speeches after the funeral rites.
Currently, the newly appointed Archbishop Benedictus was giving his own passionate speech as he sang praises about his predecessor and mentor.
It was a miracle that the Church of Holy Light had been repaired and cleansed of any Void corruption in time for the funeral. The effort involved clearly showed that the rulers and bishops were deeply concerned about the morale of the citizens of Lordaeron. After suffering an attack severe enough to shake the foundations of the kingdom, Krivax assumed that the leadership was searching desperately for a way to reassure the people.
Countless lives had been lost, Lordaeron's economy was nearing a state of collapse, and King Menethil was still comatose and unable to lead his people. Apparently, he had become severely contaminated by the spheres of concentrated Void thrown at the palace when the C'thrax attacked the city, and he had then become further injured by one of the many eldritch monstrosities it had created. The efforts to heal him were inhibited by the Void contamination, but he was lucky enough to have survived thanks to specially prepared potions supplied by Azjol-Nerub and the careful administration by priests wielding the Light.
Krivax was glad that the Order of Kal'tut had put a lot of effort into creating methods of healing Void-inflicted injuries, but there was a limit to what could be done.
Krivax was also affected by the low morale of the citizens in the city and had mixed feelings about the consequences of his decisions. He had kept going over what he could have done differently in his head and had been unable to come up with a clear answer.
"Krivax."
"Huh?" Krivax snapped out of his thoughts and turned to see the troubled gaze of Masruk staring up at him.
"I was going to ask for your opinion of Archbishop Benedictus, but you failed to respond despite several attempts to gain your attention," said Masruk, his expression one of worry. "You have been very inattentive recently. Are you unwell?"
Krivax didn't really want to think about Archbishop Benedictus. He was another person who had become a villain in the original timeline, but as far as Krivax was concerned, he would handle the Archbishop in the same way he had 'handled' Kel'Thuzad, Kael'thas, and Malygos.
Keep an eye on him and only worry about him when he actually became a problem. Krivax already had enough on his plate as it was. Besides, considering all the changes in the timeline, there was no guarantee that the Archbishop would be corrupted by the void cults.
"I'm fine, Masruk. I've just found it hard to sleep lately," said Krivax, attempting to reassure his friend. "Queen Kithix has forbidden me from using any enchantments or alchemical products on myself until she performs the ritual to regrow my missing leg. Once that is done, I'll be able to get a full night's sleep again and I'll be as good as new."
"It's not good that you require such things to properly sleep, Krivax," Masruk said disapprovingly. "During my training, I was taught that Warriors shouldn't become reliant on items or external forces that we might not always possess. I believe that lesson applies here."
I know that… but it's not like there's much that I can do about it.
"You're right, Masruk. I'll try my best to use them sparingly," Krivax lied. He appreciated that his friend was worried, but he had more important things to worry about than unhealthy sleeping habits.
Krivax could tell that his words hadn't convinced Masruk at all, but he was thankfully spared from having to talk about the matter further once Queen Regent Lianne Menethil stepped up to the podium and the cathedral fell utterly silent.
This was the first public appearance of Lordaeron's new ruler since she had taken on the regency, and everyone wanted to hear what she would say. Her hair was silver with age and her face showed signs of deep weariness, but she also held an air of dignity that had been cultivated over several decades of being a queen.
Young Arthas, the future king of Lordaeron, was seated next to the podium with red eyes from tears.
Krivax didn't know much about Lianne Menethil as she was a character who hadn't been particularly expanded upon in the lore, but he could see the determination in her eyes. He couldn't imagine what it must feel like to be called upon to rule over a kingdom facing such catastrophic circumstances, but he hoped she would be able to rise to the challenge.
"Dear citizens of Lordaeron and honored guests from across the Eastern Kingdoms and beyond," The Queen Regent began, her voice steady and regal. "We are here to mourn the loss of a great man, Archbishop Alonsus Faol, who gave his life to protect this city from a threat that would have been unimaginable to us a mere few weeks ago. His compassion, courage, and faith in the Holy Light will be forever remembered and honored by the people of Lordaeron."
Similar words had already been spoken several times during the ceremony, but Krivax could still see many people being deeply moved every time. He could even feel the Light surge around Anub'rekhan faintly at times during the speeches.
"He was a man who dedicated a lifetime of service to the people of the Eastern Kingdoms, regardless of what nation or land they may have hailed from," Lianne Menethil continued solemnly. "Whether that service took the form of providing aid to the refugees of Stormwind or forming the Knights of the Silver Hand so the faithful might have the means to fight back against the Horde, his influence can be felt throughout these lands. Although the Horde has now been defeated, there are many who would not have lived to see this day without the efforts of Archbishop Alonsus Faol."
Krivax turned his attention to Prince Varian Wrynn and saw him nodding along with tears in his eyes. It was difficult to overstate how much the Church of the Holy Light had done for the people of Stormwind since their kingdom was destroyed.
"The end of the war should have been a joyous occasion, but I have personally experienced how difficult it is to feel joy when your life has been upended by forces beyond your control," said Lianne Menethil, her voice wavering slightly as sorrow crept into her eyes. "I know many of you feel as I do, and I would like to offer a word of advice that was once offered to me by Archbishop Faol, 'It is when times feel darkest that we must most seek the Light.'"
Krivax was slightly startled as the Light around Anub'rekhan flared more than it ever had during the ceremony. Ever since the mission to secure the Dragon Soul, the Spiderlord had been much more attuned to the Light, and Krivax couldn't help but find it distracting.
"If you cannot find the Light then find your neighbors, because it is during times like these that the people of Lordaeron must stand united," the Queen Regent said with determination in her voice. "I knew Archbishop Faol for my entire life, and I know he would believe in our ability to rise above these challenges. As your Queen Regent, I intend to do everything I can to honor his memory, protect my people from harm, and help those hurt by the Horde's cruelty. I intend to live my life such that when I rejoin the Light, I can greet Archbishop Faol and truthfully say I did all that I could, and I know the people of Lordaeron will do the same. Thank you all."
As the Queen Regent retreated from the podium, the audience immediately broke out into cheers. Krivax could see many people crying throughout the cathedral, from the poorest of peasants to the richest of nobles. The C'thrax's attack on Capital City was one of the most devastating events in Lordaeron's history, and there were few people who hadn't suffered as a result.
"She's a talented speaker," Hadix observed as he scanned his gaze over the crowd. "I wonder if she will be as skilled a politician. Though, I suppose you'll have the opportunity to learn first hand, apprentice."
Krivax groaned at the reminder. The political discussions over everything that had happened had been pushed back until after the funeral, but they couldn't really wait any longer.
There had simply been too many important things that had happened. The war with the Horde had been ended by the Aspects, a dragon had been outed as a member of Dalaran's ruling body, and a monster of unknown origin had upended the Eastern Kingdom's political landscape by attacking Capital City. The consequences of the events of the last few weeks would be immense.
There were some matters that couldn't be decided upon without the inclusion of Ironforge and Gnomeregan, such as the final fate of the captured members of the Horde, but there were still many things to discuss.
The Red Dragonflight had sent a few dragons to break the siege on the two cities, but there were simply too many matters to attend to after a year of being besieged for them to prioritize diplomacy. Last Krivax had heard, they were still in the process of reasserting control over Khaz Modan and clearing out any remnants of the Horde that might still be in their territory.
The High King had made it clear that Krivax would be sent down south to establish relations between Azjol-Nerub and the two nations in the near future. That coincided well with Krivax's plans, as the Titan facility of Uldaman was buried deep within the mountains of Khaz Modan…
The ceremony didn't last for much longer after the Queen Regent concluded her speech. The citizens of Capital City continued to pour into the cathedral to pay their respects to Archbishop Faol, but Krivax made his way out of the building with the rest of the nerubian delegation.
It was a bit annoying to walk with only three legs, but he had learned how to do so well enough that his pace was only slightly slowed.
Most of the nerubians left to return to their enclave in Dalaran, but Krivax and Anub'rekhan split off and started heading toward the palace so they could attend the meeting. Hadix and Queen Kithix had both been offered invitations, but neither of them cared at all for diplomacy and simply refused to attend. Anub'rekhan was a fair bit more personable with non-nerubians, but Krivax wouldn't be surprised to hear that he was only attending because Azjol-Nerub needed someone to watch over him.
Once they arrived, Krivax was surprised to find the palace's halls already large enough to accommodate the Spiderlord, presumably thanks to Antonidas. One of this King's Guard arrived to escort the two of them to a seldomly used meeting room, as the Imperial Chamber where such discussions were usually held wasn't currently available.
Krivax could see that much of the building was still damaged as they walked through the palace's halls, but the servants continued to go about their business as they did their best to keep everything running.
Krivax and Anub'rekhan reached their destination after a few minutes and the King's Guard announced their arrival before opening the door to the meeting room. Once he was inside, Krivax immediately swept his gaze through the room to see who was attending as he made his way to the section set aside for Azjol-Nerub.
He wasn't particularly surprised to see that the rulers from each of the human kingdoms were present, including a peg-legged Daelin Proudmoore, along with Archbishop Benedictus. Krivax was sure they all had important matters to attend to in their own nations, but the funeral of Archbishop Faol was an event of such diplomatic importance that none of them could afford to miss it. The Church of the Holy Light was the predominant religion in every human nation aside from Kul'Tiras, so the reverence felt toward the Archbishop was one shared by most of humanity.
In addition to the human rulers was an elf man who Krivax assumed to be Grand Magister Belo'vir. Although King Anastarian was busy attending to his people in the aftermath of the war, Krivax had heard that the high elves would be sending over Belo'vir to represent the Convocation of Silvermoon. As the Grand Magister, he was the second most powerful individual in Silvermoon's politics, which showed the seriousness with which the elves were now treating these matters.
Krivax didn't know much about Quel'Thalas' internal politics, but he had no doubt that the war had left a deep impact on the elves.
Also present was Kurdran Wildhammer, High Thane of the Wildhammer clan and Aerie Peak. While not as isolationist as the high elves the gryphon-riding dwarves were a rare sight outside of the Hinterlands, but their presence had done much to help the Alliance counter the Horde's undead dragons.
Aside from the elves and dwarves, there was only one other party being represented in this meeting, although Krivax felt like they were probably the most consequential. Alexstrasza, Queen of the Dragons, was sitting quietly around the table placed in the center of the room with Krasus by her side.
Krivax couldn't help but notice that Krasus and Grand Magus Antonidas were very deliberately not looking in one another's direction.
"Vizier Krivax, Spiderlord Anub'rekhan, thank you for joining us so promptly," said Queen Regent Liane Menethil, smiling politely as they entered the room. "With your arrival, everyone is here and we can begin the meeting. I know that everyone is busy given all that has happened, so I shall refrain from wasting all of our time by skipping the pleasantries."
"That sounds wise to me, Your Majesty," said King Perenolde of Alterac, nodding toward the Queen Regent. "But if I may ask, is it truly wise for your son to be in attendance for this meeting? He is quite young and these matters can become a tad dull for someone his age."
"As there is a significant likelihood that Prince Arthas is destined to take the throne sooner than we had anticipated, I have decided that he will be present to observe my diplomatic meetings," Liane Menethil said firmly as she laid a hand on her son's shoulder before gesturing toward Prince Wrynn who was seated next to the delegation from Stormwind. "Besides, my son is hardly the only young person observing this meeting."
The boy looked clearly overwhelmed by everything that was going on, but Krivax didn't blame him given the circumstances.
"Of course, Your Majesty," said King Perenolde, smiling genially as he leaned back in his seat.
"Before we begin this meeting, I'd prefer if we could all agree on the topics of conversation for this evening," said Queen Regent Menethil, her voice becoming regal as she addressed the room. "Subjects for discussion are a proposal to formalize a more permanent and expanded Alliance through a new treaty between its member nations, addressing the ongoing food crisis plaguing our nations, and determining the future course of action regarding the retreating Horde."
"Are we not going to decide what we should do with those already captured?" asked King Trollbane, earning a rare grunt of agreement from King Greymane.
"Such a decision cannot be made without representatives from Ironforge and Gnomeregan," Queen Regent Menethil explained. "I recommend that we organize a more formal political summit between the nations of the Eastern Kingdoms in the future to decide on the fate of the Horde, and what actions we should take in regard to the Dark Portal."
"I'm sure my fellow dwarves would appreciate that," said Thane Wildhammer, nodding approvingly.
That… was not going to be an easy conversation, and Krivax was very much not looking forward to it. His personal feelings toward the orcs were more than a little complicated.
As a fan of the Warcraft franchise, he'd had an okay impression of the orcs and the Horde in general. Most of the events in lore took place after they were freed from the blood curse plaguing their people and generally depicted them in a favorable light. Krivax had always known that they did and would do bad things during their history, but he had always just seen them as people.
After seeing the aftermath of the Second War with his own eyes, it was much more difficult for Krivax to look at the Horde in a neutral light. He sympathized with them as he understood that their actions were significantly influenced by the Fel magic coursing through their bodies, but did a lack of agency excuse their atrocities?
Did it bring back the men, women, and children who had been mercilessly slaughtered or soothe the anguish of those who had lost everything to the Horde?
It was a complicated ethical dilemma to which Krivax wasn't sure a correct answer existed. No matter what choice was made in regard to the Horde, there would be those who would be left unsatisfied.
He didn't believe they should all be just killed, but Krivax couldn't find it in himself to particularly blame those who would no doubt call for such actions. Especially since he knew the chances of the orcs being systematically exterminated were practically nonexistent due to Alexstrasza's continued intervention. The people of the Eastern Kingdoms didn't know the orcs as anything other than murderous savages incapable of even the slightest kindness, so it was understandable.
On a more pragmatic level, Krivax thought that the orcs could be used as a powerful military force against the various threats that Azeroth would face, if their race could be… rehabilitated.
But that was a matter that Krivax intended to address later. Any attempt to turn the Horde away from Fel magic and properly integrate them into Azeroth would be a project that spanned years, so Krivax still had time to make plans.
"What is there to decide? Just kill the savages and be done with it," Daelin Proudmoore said with a scowl.
"I understand that the Horde has committed many unspeakable acts of evil against your people, Admiral, but to return one atrocity with another will do nothing but set us all on a path of madness," said Alexstrasza, her expression one of empathy as she turned toward the Lord Admiral.
"You don't understand shit, 'Dragon Queen,'" said Daelin Proudmoore, spitting out Alexstrasza's title. "While you were off doing who knows what, my people were fighting and dying to stop those animals from slaughtering innocent people. Just because you decided one day to fly down from wherever you came from and grace us with your presence by ending this war with barely any effort, doesn't mean you get to lecture me on morality. I don't care about any so-called 'Fel magic' that was corrupting them, we would be better off with them gone."
After the C'thrax's attack on Capital City, the Dragonflights had already provided an explanation about Deathwing, the Burning Legion, and the orc Fel corruption to the various nations. Krivax wasn't certain how everyone was reacting behind the scenes but was glad that everyone now knew about the greatest threats to Azeroth.
The nobility in Lordaeron and Alterac, at least, had publicly disavowed House Prestor and everyone was keeping an eye out for Deathwing's children.
"That is enough! I would remind you that these matters will be discussed once Ironforge and Gnomeregan are able to join us," Queen Regent Menethil said firmly, ending the argument that had obviously been brewing. "They have suffered from the Horde as much as anyone else, and thus deserve to have a say in the matter."
"Of course, Your Majesty. It is the mortal races who have suffered the most from the Horde, which is why you should all have a say in their fate," said Alexstrasza, subtly reminding everyone that it was her Dragonflight who still held the Horde's leadership captive.
"If I may interrupt, are we not going to address the dragon in the room?" asked King Perenolde, glancing toward Krasus. "The fact that a member of the Dalaran's ruling body was secretly a member of the so-called 'Red Dragonflight' seems like an important matter to discuss. "
"The Council of Six considers that matter to be an internal one," said Grand Magus Antonidas, his expression not giving away any thoughts on the matter.
"Be that as it may, I would quite like to know if any of my advisors are secretly dragons," said King Perenolde, glancing toward Alexstrasza.
"To the best of my knowledge, they are not," Alexstrasza assured. "There are some among my Flight who choose to live amongst mortals, but Korialstrasz's circumstances were an exception."
Krivax didn't know how true that was, but there was nothing any of them could do to prove or disprove the Dragon Queen's words.
"Hmm. Very well," said King Perenolde, his eyes thoughtful.
"If there is nothing else, then I suggest we begin addressing the previously mentioned topics," said Queen Regent Menethil. After pausing for a moment to make sure there would be no more interruptions, she nodded and continued. "Let us first begin by discussing the fate of the Alliance, and what should be done with the organization now that the war has come to an end."
"Your majesty, Azjol-Nerub has a proposal that it would like to put forth on this matter," Krivax said immediately, drawing the attention of everyone in the room.
Once he received a nod of acknowledgment from the Queen Regent, Krivax took a deep breath as he prepared himself.
Shortly after the mission to secure the Dragon Soul, High King Anub'arak had contacted everyone involved and personally expressed Azjol-Nerub's gratitude for their service through a scrying crystal. When he spoke to Krivax, the High King had specifically informed him of his intention to create a dedicated department for diplomacy and that Krivax would be assigned there as a high-ranking member.
Azjol-Nerub was highly meritocratic and wasn't shy about rewarding those who performed exceptional deeds in service of the kingdom. Apparently, participating in a mission that helped save the Azjol-Nerub from an insane dragon powerful enough to collapse their underground kingdom around them was a big deal. At least, Krivax had gotten the impression that it was significant enough to wash away any residual distrust that came from being exposed as a member of the Order of Kal'tut.
It was sort of annoying that he would be transferred to a new department again so quickly, but the High King had made it clear that he would still be working closely with the Anomalous Magic Research Division.
The best part of it all, however, was that Krivax's position as a diplomat was now much more formal and he could send regular proposals to the High King. Now that his political power was much more secure, there were many options that had opened up for him that were previously impossible, his plan to change the Alliance for the better being one of them.
"With the war won and the Horde's threat drastically diminished, Azjol-Nerub believes it best if the Alliance was repurposed into an organization that would benefit us all in the long term," Krivax said once he finished gathering his thoughts. "To be more specific, we propose to create a regular council in which we can exchange information on any threats, determine solutions to crises faced by multiple nations, and negotiate future defense treaties if such a thing ever becomes needed."
Krivax knew that if left to its own devices, the Alliance in its current form would inevitably break apart without an external threat to justify its existence. In the original timeline, the Alliance had continued on for a few more years due to the worry that those who had escaped through the Dark Portal into Draenor would launch a second invasion.
After the intervention of Alexstrasza and the Red Dragonflight, such a worry simply didn't exist. A large majority of the Horde had already been successfully captured, with only a few scattered remnants fleeing into the countryside. In addition, any attempt from the orcs on Draenor to invade Azeroth would be swiftly ended by dragon fire.
If Krivax didn't do something about it, he was confident the Alliance would swiftly fall apart once they began arguing over what to do with the orcs, as it did in the original timeline. Therefore, his solution was to change it into an organization with much looser commitments that everyone could agree with.
It had taken some effort to convince the High King that joining such an organization would be in Azjol-Nerub's interest, but he was ultimately swayed by the fact that the commitments were minor and the benefits obvious.
Once it became time to deal with the Lich King or any other threats to Azeroth, Krivax was certain that the Alliance could be easily and quickly repurposed into a military alliance to deal with the threat.
"I doubt Quel'Thalas would benefit much from such an agreement," said Grand Magister Belo'vir. "Despite the unexpected danger poised by the Horde, our defenses were more than capable of halting their advance. Committing ourselves to intervene in the squabbles of foreign nations seems like it would be against our interest."
"Mutual defense agreements would only be negotiated once a new threat became clear," Krivax said calmly. "Quel'Thalas would face no obligation to involve itself in foreign conflicts if it chose not to do so."
"The High King would have not proposed such an arrangement otherwise," Anub'rekhan added.
"I have the opposite concern," said Anduin Lothar, speaking in his role as the regent ruler of Stormwind. "The Alliance should be strengthened, not weakened. It has only been a month since the Horde was routed and we're already prepared to discard the organization that allowed us to come together and defeat them? What madness is this?"
"The nerubians are merely being proactive, Supreme Commander," said King Perenolde, sounding pleased. "I understand you don't have much experience with politics, but it's perfectly clear to those of us who do that the Alliance must change if it is to continue in the long term and beyond a mere military alliance."
Krivax was pleased to see both King Greymane and Admiral Proudmoore nod in agreement and turned to address the concerns of Stormwind.
"Prince Varian, if such an organization had existed when the Horde first arrived on Azeroth, your kingdom would have never been forced to face them alone," said Krivax, looking toward the future king of Stormwind whose expression fell at the reminder of his kingdom's destruction. "Similarly, Lordaeron and the Church would have benefited if the danger of Deathwing and the Void was communicated more clearly in advance to such a council. I firmly believe that Azjol-Nerub would have intervened in this war far sooner if we had been informed of such an existential threat. Grand Magister Belo'vir must surely agree that the news of Zul'jin's escape and alliance with Horde would have enabled Quel'Thalas to better prepare for their invasion of your lands."
After he had presented his case, Krivax could tell that many of the rulers seemed receptive to his arguments, and those who previously weren't at least looked thoughtful. The discussion got heated at times as they argued over the details, but the various rulers at least seemed favorable to the changes and agreed to negotiate the matter further through their diplomats. Alexstrasza in particular seemed interested in having a method to easily keep informed on matters happening throughout the Eastern Kingdoms, and share information with the mortal races if necessary.
Krivax was happy with the progress, even if nothing definitive had been agreed upon. Such a significant matter couldn't be decided in a single day, after all. Afterward, the discussion quickly moved on to the ongoing food crisis, which was already dire even without taking the Horde into account.
Predictably, many of the rulers were more than a little reluctant to spend their citizen taxes on feeding the orcs while their own people were going hungry.
Alexstrasza and Archbishop Benedictus offered to use their resources to cleanse the Void corruption left behind by the C'thrax during its rampage toward Capital City. In addition, the Dragon Queen would send her Flight to promote the upcoming harvests of the various kingdoms, although she made it clear this wasn't a permanent solution.
There were a lot of people to feed, and the dragons weren't going to suddenly dedicate themselves to being farmers.
"I believe that the Harvest Witches and Thornspeakers contacted by Dalaran to control the jormungar can also help improve the harvest," Krivax suggested.
There weren't all that many of them, but every little bit helped.
Archmage Antonidus nodded with agreement and said, "There are also several specialists in Dalaran in nature magic and conjuring food who can help research a more long-term solution."
"Some of my folk practice shamanism, so we can help make the soil better for growing crops," Thane Wildhammer spoke up.
"Quel'Thalas has long been self-sufficient by feeding its people with food created through arcane magic," Grand Magister Belo'vir said pridefully. "We can perhaps open our food to foreign trade in light of these trying times."
It was fairly easy to get everyone to agree on promoting any method that might improve food security across the continent. Nobody wanted to experience the chaos that would occur if a famine swept through the Eastern Kingdoms while they were still reeling from the effects of the Second War.
The final topic of discussion was how everyone intended to deal with the Horde forces that had not yet been captured. Alexstrasza categorically refused to deploy her Dragonflight against the trolls, explaining that they were natives of Azeroth and not corrupted by the Burning Legion as the orcs were. She was willing to help with any particularly large groups of Horde remnants, but it was the Alliance who would actually need to find them.
The kingdoms quickly agreed to organize scouting parties that would be dedicated to searching for any groups of orcs, which reminded Krivax of another matter he wanted to mention.
"Before this meeting is concluded, there's one thing that Azjol-Nerub would like to announce," said Krivax once the discussion was about to end. "Our kingdom has decided to create two settlements in the Eastern Kingdoms, and has negotiated agreements with Alterac and Stormwind to do so."
Ignoring the shocked exclamations of some of the gathered rulers, Krivax retrieved a map marking the proposed settlements from his spatial bag and placed it on the table. After several moments of examination, King Trollbane was the first to react.
"You intend to construct a settlement on the border between Stromgarde and Alterac?" King Trollbane asked pointedly.
"The settlement in Alterac will be smaller than the one in Stormwind, and will primarily be used for the purpose of facilitating trade and mining," Krivax explained. "This agreement will be very beneficial to the economies of both Stromgarde and Alterac."
It was he who argued to the High King and the council that Azjol-Nerub should focus on the settlement in Stormwind so that they could avoid political entanglements as much as possible. It hadn't taken much convincing, as the High King seemed to be of a similar mind.
He could have perhaps been able to argue for scrapping the Alterac settlement altogether but there was some benefit to keeping it despite the potential entanglements it would cause. If Azjol-Nerub had a settlement in Alterac, then it would be much easier for Krivax to make contact with the only orc clan on Azeroth who hadn't entered into a pact with the Burning Legion if he needed to.
After all, he knew that the Frostwolf clan had abandoned the Horde early on and settled in the mountains of Alterac without anyone noticing.
Krivax could tell that a few of the rulers were dissatisfied by the news, Trollbane most of all, but there wasn't anything they could really do about it. Azjol-Nerub had already concluded negotiations with Stormwind and Alterac, plus they had earned a significant amount of political capital through their contributions to the war effort.
As everyone said their farewells and agreed to continue the relevant discussions through their diplomats, Krivax couldn't help but feel a little bit good about how things were going. Until now, he'd been unable to implement many of his ideas due to his lack of official diplomatic status.
Now that Krivax had more solid authority and a direct line of communication with the High King, there were suddenly many more options available to him…
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Chapter 51.5
This was mostly written by my beta reader massgamer. It shows a bunch of povs of lore-relevant characters who aren't currently very involved in the story. I think you'll enjoy these perspectives if you're a wow lore nerd.
Travard and the other remaining members of Tyr's Guard, their ancient and now much-reduced order, watched as the deepest vault in Bastion of the Silver Hand in Stratholme was closed and tightly locked. Five fiendishly clever gnomish locks kept a dwarven forged vault door secured; the keys to these locks were given over to five of the most honorable and trusted people that Travard could think of to hold them.
From within the vault Lord Tyr's body rested once more, hopefully forevermore.
"Thank you again for doing this, and taking us in," Travad and his fellows bowed slightly to the five men before him.
"It is an honor, and the least we can do for your order's long vigil to protect our world," Sir Uther said, his fellow founding members nodding along as they stood with them. "And coming to Capital City's aid while we could not."
"And fighting alongside our teacher in his final moments," Sir Turalyon thanked them, sadness still tinging his voice even after so long after the Archbishop's funeral.
"I simply wish we had been able to do more," Travard admitted in shame. "We failed in our duties and it cost so many lives."
"You did all you could in the face of such great evil and suffered greatly for it," Sir Gavinrad assured him. "You went above and beyond the call of duty rushing to Capital City's aid after the beast, this Zakajz, was broken free from his prison by Deathwing and most of your order was slain. It is thanks to your efforts that the Archbishop was able to lay it low."
"He died like a true hero, and the Light holds him now," Sir Saidan continued. "And now part of your ancient mission is done too, or at least you don't have to shoulder it alone. I'm sure that soon they'll find a way to get rid of that eyesore of a corpse and we'll heal the damage it has done in time. The Light gives us strength after all."
Travad grimaced at the reminder of the not-quite-dead remains of the Corruptor in Capital City.
The region around the C'thrax had been quarantined through the combined efforts of the Church, Kirin Tor, and the dragons to prevent the spread of its dark influence. Thoradin's sword was plunged once again through the creature to keep it from rising again and the former king's spirit, who dwelt in the sword, kept vigil over the remains of the foul creature.
That was to speak nothing of the 'Void Scar,' as it was being called. The Corruptor traveled a wide, straight path from its place of confinement beneath Tyr's Fall, more commonly known as Tirisfal Lake, to Capital City. As it journeyed, its flowing blood tainted the landscape, causing mutations and changes. In addition, it unleashed a horde of repugnant, lesser abominations.
Like with the Corruptor's corpse, efforts were being taken to quarantine the Scar and cleanse it with the aid of the so-called 'Dragon Queen', but the Void was insidious and the damage done was great. It was estimated that it would take more than a year to ensure most of the corruption was removed from the land, and significantly longer for everything to be completely restored to how it once was.
To say nothing of the near pitch-black churning lake itself and the unfortunate settlements that were in the monster's path.
Travad had seen the result of the creature's passing too many times while rushing towards Capital City, whole hamlets and villages reduced to nothing. Or worse, only partly destroyed from the Corrupter's path itself and the survivors ravaged by its 'offspring' or corrupted by its blood.
He gave what peace he could to those he could while on the move, and never with a light hand.
"Worry not, for our newest allies will heal the harm that has been done, and we will be there to help them," Sir Tirion, likely guessing his thoughts, assured him. "And now our Order will hold and defend Tyr's body as yours did for so long. Oddly fitting, given our order's name," he finished with a chuckle.
Travad couldn't help but agree given the symbolism.
The sad fact was that after Deathwing's attack on Tyr's tomb, his order, never large in the first place given its secretive nature and known only to a few family lines, were now made up of less than a dozen members. In addition, when they took Tyr's Hand with them to Capital City the tomb had collapsed, a part of its ancient failsafe system to deny its secrets to Tyr's enemies.
Now the tomb was gone, Tyr's body had been securely moved to the Silver Hand's headquarters, and their prisoner was now in quarantine in Capital City.
Thankfully the Knights of the Silver Hand's kindness knew no bounds and had happily welcomed them within their ranks if they so chose. They were happy to take up the offer.
"We are not as skilled warriors as you all are, but our order has long used the fighting styles of our distant ancestors and power provided by Tyr's hammer to aid in our mission. I hope in time we can all become proper paladins such as you," Travad stated with confidence.
"Not unless I beat you there first, brother," his brother Galford ribbed him while punching him in the shoulder, raising chuckles all around from those present.
"And we are honored to have you among us," Sir Uther said with a smile. "And worry not, we will record and honor your order's history and traditions as well. I'm sure you wish to keep up your duty in protecting Tyr's body after all."
"Ideally, yes. But recent events show we cannot be idle either, and we hope you can count on us when we drive the Horde back from the southern part of the continent," Travad said with conviction.
"But of course! More blades are never a bad thing!" Sir Saidan laughed.
"We hope we prove worthy of being new members of your family," Sir Turalyon said sincerely.
It would take some getting used to the loss of secrecy. Tyr's Hand had been made up from the blood of only a select few family lines over the millennia since their original giant ancestors and new members rarely joined through merit or marriage with all children raised to carry out the duty. Travad was sure it would be a good change in the long run.
"But come, we must be on our way," Sir Gavinrad said as they all began their ascent into the Bastion proper, past hidden and well-defended doors. "The scribes are eager to learn more about the truth of Tyr's past, our ancient giant ancestors, and more to add to our growing library about our noble progenitors."
"After one last thing, of course," Sir Tirion said as they returned to the main floor of the Bastion and its central room.
Travad nodded as he went up to a recently installed plinth and gently inserted Tyr's Hand, the weapon he had not let out of his grasp since he had removed it from the tomb except for one time to let Archbishop Faol use it to channel the Light's power that day.
He stepped back and watched as the hammer's radiant glow spread and seeped out throughout the entire Bastion, finding a new place to protect with its holy power. All could feel the Light flow through and energize them, its comforting warmth filling their beings.
"May Tyr's Light shelter us all in its new home, and pray that the need to take up his hammer does not come again," Sir Uther spoke up.
Travad dearly prayed they never would have to.
—----------------------
They both waited outside of the royal bedchamber, fidgeting in worry and barely contained anxiety that they fought to keep under control. The King's Guard standing by the doors said nothing, standing in silent vigil, but in the privacy of their own thoughts, they could not help but pity them.
After all, no children should have to see their father cling to life.
They jumped as the bedchamber doors opened and Queen Regent Lianne Menethil walked through it, her children rushing up to her and looking at her with one simple unasked question.
"Your father is well enough to see you both right now," she said with a small smile, her statement causing some joy to return to her children's faces. "But be calm and try not to tire him out too much. He needs his rest."
"Yes, mother," Crown Prince Arthas and Princess Calia said simultaneously as they rushed past her and into the bedchamber itself. They quickly passed through the large room to their father's bedside.
King Terenas Menethil II rested upon a large comfortable bed and was reclining in as comfortable a position as was possible. A high-ranking priest of the Holy Light was sitting by the king's bedside at all times to see to his health with a tray of potions and artifacts of the Light.
Sadly, despite all the care given to him, he was a shell of the man he once was. Gaunt, pale, and sickly looking, his horrid-looking injuries, covered by bandages and robes, caused him constant pain he could not escape. Most times it was a struggle for him to stay awake, but he sometimes had enough energy and clarity of thought to speak to his wife about the state of the kingdom, the Alliance, and most importantly about their children.
Once she became aware of the situation, Alexstrasza had personally come to Capital City to attempt to heal King Menethil's injuries, but the Void had already done much damage to his body. As it was, it was a miracle he was alive at all and not corrupted by the Void, but even the stray shot on the palace from the C'Thrax had left its mark and crippled him.
The Dragon Queen claimed she would have been able to easily heal most instances of Void corruption, but the C'thrax who had attacked their city was known as Zakajz the Corruptor for a reason. It was well known for possessing an unprecedentedly virulent form of Void magic that constantly shifted and changed, which made any injuries from the creature extremely difficult to cleanse.
The Void was especially insidious and attempts to prevent it from further spreading throughout the King's body had left him weak and often tired. During his best times, he smiled warmly and greeted his children lovingly despite his injuries and general lethargic state.
A true King stayed strong for those they loved after all.
"My children, I hope you are well," he said weakly, reaching out to them. Brother and sister gently hugged their father so as to not cause him any additional pain. "Keeping up with your lessons, I hope. I can't be looking over your shoulder all the time anymore."
"Of course, father," Arthas said with a strained smile. "I'm studying hard, training in the yard every day, and I ride with Invincible through the city to look over reconstruction efforts."
"I'm using the bow now, too!" Calia said with pride, before speaking again with some fear. "I have to help protect everyone if a monster comes again."
"I'm sure it won't happen again, darling. But in case it does, I know you two will be there to protect our people," Terenas said with a strained but genuine smile. "Just keep working hard and help your mother as much as you possibly can, but also find time to have fun for yourselves too. All work and no play will turn you both into dull elves," he mockingly warned.
His children laughed at his words, cherishing these rare moments when life almost felt normal for them again as they talked with their father about everything, from important matters to the most trivial of things just to have something to do with him since he could not move far from his bed anymore.
But even like this they could enjoy their father's company for a time… until, that is, his energy left him and he started to violently cough.
The royal siblings could only stand still in worry as the priest's hands glowed and he ran them over their father's form to provide some form of comfort. The coughing slowly stopped, but it was clear that their father was no longer in the state to receive them.
With great amounts of regret on both sides, the siblings said goodbye to their father and promised to return when he was better. They then slowly exited the bedchamber, passing their mother nearby who kept a respectful distance while her children spent time with their father.
She could see the tears in their eyes even as the door closed behind them.
Lianne could only sigh as she turned back to her husband and sat by his side.
"They miss you terribly and pray constantly for you to recover," she told him.
"Heh, I'm afraid that if a being as powerful as Alexstrasza cannot fix me then there isn't much that can," Terenas laughed sardonically, which turned into a wheezing cough. "Ah, worse than death but better than what could have been. I'm so sorry to put all the responsibility on you and Arthas now. He shouldn't have had to bear the duties of a king so early."
"Life rarely makes things convenient for us all," Lianne pointed out. "Still, despite everything I am glad you still live and I promise to look after Lordaeron in your stead until you recover or Arthas is able to take the throne. He is working harder than ever these days. He and Varian practically live in the courtyard now sparring. Arthas wants to make you proud and he'll be a great ruler one day."
"Since he has you as a mother I'm sure he will be a better king than I ever was," Teranas chuckled lightly.
"One can only hope our children take most after me," she agreed with a smirk.
"Hehe, the Queen knows best… Now, what news about everything else?" he asked seriously.
"Are you sure? Maybe after you rest for a bit-"
"I'm not dead yet, and if my wife has to shoulder the whole kingdom for me the least I can do is stay informed and offer what counsel I can when able," he interrupted her while taking her hand. "Please let this worthless bag of bones be of use to you for as long as I'm able."
"Of course, my love," she returned as she started updating him about the state of the world and decisions going forward.
For no matter how much pain he suffered, the world moved forward and it was still the job of a monarch and a father to leave behind a better life for his subjects and his children, something he was determined to do even from a sick bed.
—----------------------
With the end of what scholars were already calling 'The Second Great War' or just 'the Second War' for short, preparations to reestablish control over the southern half of the continent was beginning to take place. Part of the Alliance military had been sent off to help repair the damage done by the Horde during its destructive invasion through the various lands and kingdoms.
Although the Horde had failed in its objective to break the Alliance and most of its leadership and forces were defeated or captured, they had devastated the villages, roads, and the farmlands along their path and much work had to be done to restore them.
Many noble sons and daughters, who joined the Alliance's military, also received special leave of absence to return home and help in rebuilding efforts on their family lands which had been heavily affected by the Horde's passing.
Othmar Garithos, knight and heir to House Garithos, found himself returning to Eastweald and his hometown of Blackwood built along a lake of the same name.
Sadly, it was far from a joyful return… but it wasn't the worst that it could have been.
Othmar had asked his father's permission to leave home and join the Alliance of Lordaeron's war effort against the Horde to uphold the honor of his house. He left with dreams of stopping this evil force, protecting the innocent, and defending places like his home.
All of which he did… but at a terrible cost. While he was away, the Horde had come for Blackwood.
By all accounts, it wasn't even their main target. Rather a random band of orcs, ogres, trolls, and whatever other foul monster saw an easy mark while the rest of the Horde invaded Quel'Thalas and the Alliance focused its efforts on fighting them and aiding the high elves.
His father, the brave and noble man that he was, had rallied the few remaining defenders to protect their people… and had fallen in doing so. Blackwood as a whole would have met the same fate, its defenders nearly overwhelmed, were it not for timely reinforcements from an unlikely source.
Before the war, Othmar would have admitted that he didn't care much for spiders at all, especially the giant variety. But when he returned home to see nerubians, those strange spidermen from Northrend, aiding in Blackwood's defense and restoration he was quite gobsmacked. More so when his mother explained the situation to him.
He mourned his father and those who died defending his home, but thanked the Light profusely for preserving the rest of his family and the people under his family's protection. Most of all, he profusely thanked the nerubians who came to their aid, even when they tried to write it off as part of their mission to perform reconnaissance of enemy raiding forces.
And now he helped direct the rebuilding of Blackwood alongside his newest allies and getting to know the spiderfolk better, finding them pleasant company.
"I recommend that the human known as Kristoff be appointed as your clerk and handle other administrative duties," the female Weaver, the one in charge of this group and aiding in Blackwood's reconstruction, known as Kamet'kavad suggested. "His skills in such things would have likely made him a Vizier if he were nerubian."
"I will speak with the man first, but trust your assessment," Othmar noted as he looked over the most recent reports on his desk. "Blackwood's reconstruction is going well. Soon it will be as it once was, perhaps even better. I'm sure my father would have been pleased," he said with a grunt of pride.
"It is natural for each generation to seek to improve upon the last," Kamet, as he had taken to calling her for ease of use, agreed. "Soon this settlement will be productive again and can add its resources to the growing need of the Alliance as a whole."
"Feh, using our food to feed murderous prisoners? Such a waste," Othmar growled.
"It does seem like an ill-use of feedstock, but it has been made clear that exterminating the Horde is not an option the red dragons will agree with," Kamet seemed to shrug carelessly. "Thus the best course of action is to concentrate and contain them so that they are properly controlled. Mayhaps in time they can be put to productive use to make up for the resource drain."
"Least they can do after burning our homes," Othmar agreed. What were a few decades of indentured servitude to those who caused such damage after all?
"At least the magical ability of the red dragons and high elves will stem the worst of the predicted famine and merely turn it into a lean year or two," Kamet added.
"How magnanimous of them to come in and save the day after all the fighting is over," Othmar growled.
First, the high elves insulted the Alliance as a whole by sending a pathetically minor force to aid the army and then they relied on the Alliance troops to save them when the Horde finally reached their front door. The dragons had defeated the Horde in a single day, but why did they wait until so many Alliance lives had been lost, countless homes destroyed, innocent people slain, and his home nearly overrun? He had trembled with anger at the news that the Capital City had been assaulted by a giant monster and nearly destroyed. Garithos had wept at the death of the Archbishop who had helped so many over his long life.
Why did the rest of them have to sacrifice so much for the sake of others who barely seemed to care?!
At least the nerubians, strange as they may be at times, were upfront and honest about things.
They had not joined the Alliance's war with the Horde right away. They were still new after all and still trying to understand their suddenly expanded world, but they did provide access to their war beasts and specialists. Once they did join the war, they moved as fast as they could to get soldiers and powerful Spiderlords to the Eastern Kingdoms to assist despite the difficulties in moving their troops all the way from Northrend. Compared to the uppity high elves, who only cared to send their main army after the war affected them personally, and the dragons, who made demands for ending the war, the nerubians had acted in good faith with the Alliance. Now that the fighting here in the north was over, he had no doubt that the high elves were attempting to wiggle out of any future responsibility.
Self-important cowards!
"There is still much work to be done, and defenses should be strengthened to account for future threats such as Horde remnants, forest trolls, gnolls, bandits, and other potential issues that could plague a post-war environment," Kamet listed. "You should also attempt to expand farming and other industries here in Blackwood and surrounding lands under your control to improve overall production."
"We'll get to it then," Othmar confirmed. "While our soldiers go to reclaim the south we must be here to support them."
"Indeed," Kamet said simply. "We hope to continue our mutually beneficial relationship with each other, Baron Garithos."
"And I, the same," Othmar said honestly.
If the war had taught him anything, it was that in the face of crisis, you learned who were your true allies, who were the enemies that had to be destroyed, and who were the snakes in the grass ready to use you until you had nothing left to provide and then tossed you aside.
It had been humanity who helped save the high elves during the Trolls Wars and most recently, it was the dwarves and gnomes who helped occupy the Horde in the south, and the nerubians who fought with the Eastern Kingdoms without taking the easy option of staying back at home.
Othmar Garithos intended to take this lesson to heart.
—----------------------
While most of the Horde and its leadership were defeated and captured thanks to the efforts of the Alliance and its allies, that did not mean that the fighting was done.
There were still large numbers of the Horde's soldiers squatting in the ruins of the kingdom of Stormwind, and naturally, the Dark Portal itself that connected their homeworld to Azeroth in the first place.
Already the Alliance was preparing a combined military force made up of the Seven Kingdoms, Aerie Peak, Quel'Thalas, the Church of the Holy Light and their paladins, Azjol-Nerub, and even a few of the Dragonflights to help reclaim it all and push the Horde back to the portal.
But there was much to be done at home still, such as dealing with other threats within their borders. Namely in the form of bands of Horde remnants who escaped capture into the countryside of various kingdoms that needed to be hunted down and dealt with one way or another. The last thing the Alliance wanted was threats at their backs while their forces were away, something Capital City had dealt with to terrible effect.
These remnants though would not be easy to find, their small size making it easy for them to disappear into the little-known places of the world. Which is why specialized task forces and groups were made to track them down, utilizing the skills and abilities of all the members of the Alliance while also encouraging interkingdom cooperation.
One of said groups would become legends in time, but for now were some of the most effective hunters of the Horde's remnants throughout the Eastern Kingdoms.
Rhonin of Dalaran, Vereesa Windrunner of Quel'Thalas, and Falstad Wildhammer of Aerie Peak.
Three unlikely people made allies, fast friends, and for at least two of them… something more.
---
Rhonin still felt like a man who had to prove himself and make up for his mistakes. The Kirin Tor and the Council of Six, or Four as it currently was with Archmage Krasus' leave of absence due to conflicting loyalties and Archmage Runeweaver still recovering from his injuries, had released him from his probation due to his brave actions in aiding in the defense of Capital City during the C'Thrax attack.
As an up-and-coming member of the Kirin Tor, Rhonin was as headstrong, reckless, and eager to prove himself as he was skilled in magic. Which is why early on in the war, his foolishness directly led to the death of several comrades. His actions were only forgiven due to the fact they helped prevent a group of orcs from using dark magic to summon a demon and cause more deaths.
Then came the C'thrax attack. Archmage Krasus or Korialstrasz, as he now preferred to be called, had commanded all available mages from Dalaran to defend the Capital City. He had yet to fully process that one of his teachers was secretly a dragon of all things for centuries. The fighting had been tough and he had found his magical spells barely sufficient in defeating the voidling creatures spawned by the monster.
Still, the whole series of recent events made it clear to him that he had much to learn, and not just about magic.
Thus when the Kirin Tor asked for volunteers among its members to assist in efforts to track down remnants of the Horde he had jumped at the chance, as a personal penance and further learning experience.
Which is why in recent weeks he had been traveling all over the Eastern Kingdoms alongside two companions, Vereesa Windrunner, and Falstad Wildhammer.
Their task was to track down various bands of orcs, trolls, and ogres who had escaped capture and either inform the closest army units or handle it themselves if they could. Despite his newly acquired respect for caution and clear thinking, he and his companions were usually able to deal with the Horde remnants themselves due to their not-insignificant combined skill.
Such as now…
"Warlock!" he yelled out in warning as he unleashed a bolt of fire at the dark magic user, which was sadly blocked with a Fel shield. Rhonin parried another orc's ax with his staff before blasting him in the face with an arcane missile.
"If someone could do something about that, that would be great!"
"Did you suddenly run out of spells, human?!" Vereesa said as she fired off an arrow at a charging orc, downing it in a single shot.
"No, but it's rather hard to cast anything complex while fighting for our lives!" Rhonin pointed out as he let out a cone of frost to give them some space. "Though fighting alongside a woman as deadly as she is beautiful certainly helps encourage me to try better!"
"Will a wounding shot encourage you more?" Vereesa sneered as she dodged another strike and flashed out in retaliation with a dagger.
"Depends on the wound!" Rhonin admitted.
Thankfully, before they could be completely surrounded or the warlock could unleash any potent spells, lightning came down from the sky all around them as their third and arguably fourth companion finally arrived.
"Sorry to keep you both waiting, but it seemed like you had it handled!" Falstad Wildhammer laughed atop his mount and partner Swiftwing. The gryphon shrieked in agreement as it slashed through the orcs with his talons, while Falstad's stormhammer unleashed small stormbolts into them as well.
Taking advantage of the momentary chaos, Rhonin finally had time to cast a proper spell and unleashed his own lightning bolt at the warlock, breaking through its shield and slaying it instantly.
After that, all that was left was the clean up.
---
Vereesa Windrunner did not expect her first official assignment as a ranger of Quel'Thalas to be as an escort to a human wizard and a gryphon-riding dwarf. She'd much rather be with her sister, Alleria, as the Alliance prepared to push into the southern part of the continent and drive back the Horde still located there.
But hunting down the foul monsters that were most likely a part of the force that attacked Quel'Thalas was a close second.
As for the why, beyond the fact they did so at all, well…
"The Horde killed my mother, my younger brother, and many extended family members when they burned through Eversong," she stated in a deadpan voice as she sat around the fire with her 'companions', the arrogant human and the savage dwarf.
Silence greeted her declaration.
"Well… I'm sorry for your loss," Rhonin, in one of the few times since she had met him, said with no wit or sarcasm. "And that I asked, honestly. Last thing I wanted was to bring up such fresh wounds. I was just curious why you were so willing to work with us and not other rangers, is all."
"Although you vex me, I cannot deny your skill and both of your willingness to go into the deep wild places to hunt down our prey," Vereesa admitted. "So you at least deserved the truth as to my motivations."
"No need to explain yourself to us, lass. We get wanting to avenge kith and kin wrongly taken from us," Falstad said as he brushed Swiftwing's fur and feathers. "Just don't be overly eager to join them, is all. I rather think they'd want to see you again after living a long and happy life."
"Indeed," Rhonin said. "Your family wouldn't want you to destroy yourself seeking revenge on their behalf, but at least you are among friends and comrades who will support and back you up when you need it. We will help make sure their spirits and the spirits of countless others can rest well as we bring those responsible to justice. Just don't be too willing to throw yourself into danger is all. Speaking from personal experience, that is a fast way to getting yourself or others killed."
"I… will keep both your advice in mind," Veressa said quietly as she cared for her bow and arrows.
'Maybe he isn't as vexing as I thought,' she thought in the privacy of her own mind.
---
"On the right!"
"I see them!"
"I got both your backs!"
With each successful hunt, they grew more and more skilled as a team.
Rhonin as their magical fire support, Vereesa their tracker and sniper, and Falstad as their lightning-fast hammer and scout.
Orcs, ogres, trolls, gnolls, bandits, feral beasts; none could stand against them.
Of course, from Falstad's perspective it was more than just their fighting ability and friendship that grew over time, however.
"Watch yourself, human! I just had to save your life again," Veressa mock complained.
"I am honored that you think of me so dearly that you are keeping track of each time, Lady Windrunner," Rhonin fired back with a smirk.
"Only because who else would care about your petty life?" Veressa countered, which was only betrayed by a slight blush on her face.
"Like two alphas courting each other, these two," Falstad muttered so softly to himself that only his companion Swiftwing could hear him over the din of battle, the gryphon screeching in agreement as they both dispatched an ogre magi with talon and hammer.
Still, despite the ridiculousness of their courtship, Falstad was near certain the two would officially hit it off by year's end, while Swiftwing was betting that it would be less than that.
And the bird was very good at gambling in his experience.
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Travard and the other remaining members of Tyr's Guard, their ancient and now much-reduced order, watched as the deepest vault in Bastion of the Silver Hand in Stratholme was closed and tightly locked. Five fiendishly clever gnomish locks kept a dwarven forged vault door secured; the keys to these locks were given over to five of the most honorable and trusted people that Travard could think of to hold them.
From within the vault Lord Tyr's body rested once more, hopefully forevermore.
"Thank you again for doing this, and taking us in," Travad and his fellows bowed slightly to the five men before him.
"It is an honor, and the least we can do for your order's long vigil to protect our world," Sir Uther said, his fellow founding members nodding along as they stood with them. "And coming to Capital City's aid while we could not."
"And fighting alongside our teacher in his final moments," Sir Turalyon thanked them, sadness still tinging his voice even after so long after the Archbishop's funeral.
"I simply wish we had been able to do more," Travard admitted in shame. "We failed in our duties and it cost so many lives."
"You did all you could in the face of such great evil and suffered greatly for it," Sir Gavinrad assured him. "You went above and beyond the call of duty rushing to Capital City's aid after the beast, this Zakajz, was broken free from his prison by Deathwing and most of your order was slain. It is thanks to your efforts that the Archbishop was able to lay it low."
"He died like a true hero, and the Light holds him now," Sir Saidan continued. "And now part of your ancient mission is done too, or at least you don't have to shoulder it alone. I'm sure that soon they'll find a way to get rid of that eyesore of a corpse and we'll heal the damage it has done in time. The Light gives us strength after all."
Travad grimaced at the reminder of the not-quite-dead remains of the Corruptor in Capital City.
The region around the C'thrax had been quarantined through the combined efforts of the Church, Kirin Tor, and the dragons to prevent the spread of its dark influence. Thoradin's sword was plunged once again through the creature to keep it from rising again and the former king's spirit, who dwelt in the sword, kept vigil over the remains of the foul creature.
That was to speak nothing of the 'Void Scar,' as it was being called. The Corruptor traveled a wide, straight path from its place of confinement beneath Tyr's Fall, more commonly known as Tirisfal Lake, to Capital City. As it journeyed, its flowing blood tainted the landscape, causing mutations and changes. In addition, it unleashed a horde of repugnant, lesser abominations.
Like with the Corruptor's corpse, efforts were being taken to quarantine the Scar and cleanse it with the aid of the so-called 'Dragon Queen', but the Void was insidious and the damage done was great. It was estimated that it would take more than a year to ensure most of the corruption was removed from the land, and significantly longer for everything to be completely restored to how it once was.
To say nothing of the near pitch-black churning lake itself and the unfortunate settlements that were in the monster's path.
Travad had seen the result of the creature's passing too many times while rushing towards Capital City, whole hamlets and villages reduced to nothing. Or worse, only partly destroyed from the Corrupter's path itself and the survivors ravaged by its 'offspring' or corrupted by its blood.
He gave what peace he could to those he could while on the move, and never with a light hand.
"Worry not, for our newest allies will heal the harm that has been done, and we will be there to help them," Sir Tirion, likely guessing his thoughts, assured him. "And now our Order will hold and defend Tyr's body as yours did for so long. Oddly fitting, given our order's name," he finished with a chuckle.
Travad couldn't help but agree given the symbolism.
The sad fact was that after Deathwing's attack on Tyr's tomb, his order, never large in the first place given its secretive nature and known only to a few family lines, were now made up of less than a dozen members. In addition, when they took Tyr's Hand with them to Capital City the tomb had collapsed, a part of its ancient failsafe system to deny its secrets to Tyr's enemies.
Now the tomb was gone, Tyr's body had been securely moved to the Silver Hand's headquarters, and their prisoner was now in quarantine in Capital City.
Thankfully the Knights of the Silver Hand's kindness knew no bounds and had happily welcomed them within their ranks if they so chose. They were happy to take up the offer.
"We are not as skilled warriors as you all are, but our order has long used the fighting styles of our distant ancestors and power provided by Tyr's hammer to aid in our mission. I hope in time we can all become proper paladins such as you," Travad stated with confidence.
"Not unless I beat you there first, brother," his brother Galford ribbed him while punching him in the shoulder, raising chuckles all around from those present.
"And we are honored to have you among us," Sir Uther said with a smile. "And worry not, we will record and honor your order's history and traditions as well. I'm sure you wish to keep up your duty in protecting Tyr's body after all."
"Ideally, yes. But recent events show we cannot be idle either, and we hope you can count on us when we drive the Horde back from the southern part of the continent," Travad said with conviction.
"But of course! More blades are never a bad thing!" Sir Saidan laughed.
"We hope we prove worthy of being new members of your family," Sir Turalyon said sincerely.
It would take some getting used to the loss of secrecy. Tyr's Hand had been made up from the blood of only a select few family lines over the millennia since their original giant ancestors and new members rarely joined through merit or marriage with all children raised to carry out the duty. Travad was sure it would be a good change in the long run.
"But come, we must be on our way," Sir Gavinrad said as they all began their ascent into the Bastion proper, past hidden and well-defended doors. "The scribes are eager to learn more about the truth of Tyr's past, our ancient giant ancestors, and more to add to our growing library about our noble progenitors."
"After one last thing, of course," Sir Tirion said as they returned to the main floor of the Bastion and its central room.
Travad nodded as he went up to a recently installed plinth and gently inserted Tyr's Hand, the weapon he had not let out of his grasp since he had removed it from the tomb except for one time to let Archbishop Faol use it to channel the Light's power that day.
He stepped back and watched as the hammer's radiant glow spread and seeped out throughout the entire Bastion, finding a new place to protect with its holy power. All could feel the Light flow through and energize them, its comforting warmth filling their beings.
"May Tyr's Light shelter us all in its new home, and pray that the need to take up his hammer does not come again," Sir Uther spoke up.
Travad dearly prayed they never would have to.
—----------------------
They both waited outside of the royal bedchamber, fidgeting in worry and barely contained anxiety that they fought to keep under control. The King's Guard standing by the doors said nothing, standing in silent vigil, but in the privacy of their own thoughts, they could not help but pity them.
After all, no children should have to see their father cling to life.
They jumped as the bedchamber doors opened and Queen Regent Lianne Menethil walked through it, her children rushing up to her and looking at her with one simple unasked question.
"Your father is well enough to see you both right now," she said with a small smile, her statement causing some joy to return to her children's faces. "But be calm and try not to tire him out too much. He needs his rest."
"Yes, mother," Crown Prince Arthas and Princess Calia said simultaneously as they rushed past her and into the bedchamber itself. They quickly passed through the large room to their father's bedside.
King Terenas Menethil II rested upon a large comfortable bed and was reclining in as comfortable a position as was possible. A high-ranking priest of the Holy Light was sitting by the king's bedside at all times to see to his health with a tray of potions and artifacts of the Light.
Sadly, despite all the care given to him, he was a shell of the man he once was. Gaunt, pale, and sickly looking, his horrid-looking injuries, covered by bandages and robes, caused him constant pain he could not escape. Most times it was a struggle for him to stay awake, but he sometimes had enough energy and clarity of thought to speak to his wife about the state of the kingdom, the Alliance, and most importantly about their children.
Once she became aware of the situation, Alexstrasza had personally come to Capital City to attempt to heal King Menethil's injuries, but the Void had already done much damage to his body. As it was, it was a miracle he was alive at all and not corrupted by the Void, but even the stray shot on the palace from the C'Thrax had left its mark and crippled him.
The Dragon Queen claimed she would have been able to easily heal most instances of Void corruption, but the C'thrax who had attacked their city was known as Zakajz the Corruptor for a reason. It was well known for possessing an unprecedentedly virulent form of Void magic that constantly shifted and changed, which made any injuries from the creature extremely difficult to cleanse.
The Void was especially insidious and attempts to prevent it from further spreading throughout the King's body had left him weak and often tired. During his best times, he smiled warmly and greeted his children lovingly despite his injuries and general lethargic state.
A true King stayed strong for those they loved after all.
"My children, I hope you are well," he said weakly, reaching out to them. Brother and sister gently hugged their father so as to not cause him any additional pain. "Keeping up with your lessons, I hope. I can't be looking over your shoulder all the time anymore."
"Of course, father," Arthas said with a strained smile. "I'm studying hard, training in the yard every day, and I ride with Invincible through the city to look over reconstruction efforts."
"I'm using the bow now, too!" Calia said with pride, before speaking again with some fear. "I have to help protect everyone if a monster comes again."
"I'm sure it won't happen again, darling. But in case it does, I know you two will be there to protect our people," Terenas said with a strained but genuine smile. "Just keep working hard and help your mother as much as you possibly can, but also find time to have fun for yourselves too. All work and no play will turn you both into dull elves," he mockingly warned.
His children laughed at his words, cherishing these rare moments when life almost felt normal for them again as they talked with their father about everything, from important matters to the most trivial of things just to have something to do with him since he could not move far from his bed anymore.
But even like this they could enjoy their father's company for a time… until, that is, his energy left him and he started to violently cough.
The royal siblings could only stand still in worry as the priest's hands glowed and he ran them over their father's form to provide some form of comfort. The coughing slowly stopped, but it was clear that their father was no longer in the state to receive them.
With great amounts of regret on both sides, the siblings said goodbye to their father and promised to return when he was better. They then slowly exited the bedchamber, passing their mother nearby who kept a respectful distance while her children spent time with their father.
She could see the tears in their eyes even as the door closed behind them.
Lianne could only sigh as she turned back to her husband and sat by his side.
"They miss you terribly and pray constantly for you to recover," she told him.
"Heh, I'm afraid that if a being as powerful as Alexstrasza cannot fix me then there isn't much that can," Terenas laughed sardonically, which turned into a wheezing cough. "Ah, worse than death but better than what could have been. I'm so sorry to put all the responsibility on you and Arthas now. He shouldn't have had to bear the duties of a king so early."
"Life rarely makes things convenient for us all," Lianne pointed out. "Still, despite everything I am glad you still live and I promise to look after Lordaeron in your stead until you recover or Arthas is able to take the throne. He is working harder than ever these days. He and Varian practically live in the courtyard now sparring. Arthas wants to make you proud and he'll be a great ruler one day."
"Since he has you as a mother I'm sure he will be a better king than I ever was," Teranas chuckled lightly.
"One can only hope our children take most after me," she agreed with a smirk.
"Hehe, the Queen knows best… Now, what news about everything else?" he asked seriously.
"Are you sure? Maybe after you rest for a bit-"
"I'm not dead yet, and if my wife has to shoulder the whole kingdom for me the least I can do is stay informed and offer what counsel I can when able," he interrupted her while taking her hand. "Please let this worthless bag of bones be of use to you for as long as I'm able."
"Of course, my love," she returned as she started updating him about the state of the world and decisions going forward.
For no matter how much pain he suffered, the world moved forward and it was still the job of a monarch and a father to leave behind a better life for his subjects and his children, something he was determined to do even from a sick bed.
—----------------------
With the end of what scholars were already calling 'The Second Great War' or just 'the Second War' for short, preparations to reestablish control over the southern half of the continent was beginning to take place. Part of the Alliance military had been sent off to help repair the damage done by the Horde during its destructive invasion through the various lands and kingdoms.
Although the Horde had failed in its objective to break the Alliance and most of its leadership and forces were defeated or captured, they had devastated the villages, roads, and the farmlands along their path and much work had to be done to restore them.
Many noble sons and daughters, who joined the Alliance's military, also received special leave of absence to return home and help in rebuilding efforts on their family lands which had been heavily affected by the Horde's passing.
Othmar Garithos, knight and heir to House Garithos, found himself returning to Eastweald and his hometown of Blackwood built along a lake of the same name.
Sadly, it was far from a joyful return… but it wasn't the worst that it could have been.
Othmar had asked his father's permission to leave home and join the Alliance of Lordaeron's war effort against the Horde to uphold the honor of his house. He left with dreams of stopping this evil force, protecting the innocent, and defending places like his home.
All of which he did… but at a terrible cost. While he was away, the Horde had come for Blackwood.
By all accounts, it wasn't even their main target. Rather a random band of orcs, ogres, trolls, and whatever other foul monster saw an easy mark while the rest of the Horde invaded Quel'Thalas and the Alliance focused its efforts on fighting them and aiding the high elves.
His father, the brave and noble man that he was, had rallied the few remaining defenders to protect their people… and had fallen in doing so. Blackwood as a whole would have met the same fate, its defenders nearly overwhelmed, were it not for timely reinforcements from an unlikely source.
Before the war, Othmar would have admitted that he didn't care much for spiders at all, especially the giant variety. But when he returned home to see nerubians, those strange spidermen from Northrend, aiding in Blackwood's defense and restoration he was quite gobsmacked. More so when his mother explained the situation to him.
He mourned his father and those who died defending his home, but thanked the Light profusely for preserving the rest of his family and the people under his family's protection. Most of all, he profusely thanked the nerubians who came to their aid, even when they tried to write it off as part of their mission to perform reconnaissance of enemy raiding forces.
And now he helped direct the rebuilding of Blackwood alongside his newest allies and getting to know the spiderfolk better, finding them pleasant company.
"I recommend that the human known as Kristoff be appointed as your clerk and handle other administrative duties," the female Weaver, the one in charge of this group and aiding in Blackwood's reconstruction, known as Kamet'kavad suggested. "His skills in such things would have likely made him a Vizier if he were nerubian."
"I will speak with the man first, but trust your assessment," Othmar noted as he looked over the most recent reports on his desk. "Blackwood's reconstruction is going well. Soon it will be as it once was, perhaps even better. I'm sure my father would have been pleased," he said with a grunt of pride.
"It is natural for each generation to seek to improve upon the last," Kamet, as he had taken to calling her for ease of use, agreed. "Soon this settlement will be productive again and can add its resources to the growing need of the Alliance as a whole."
"Feh, using our food to feed murderous prisoners? Such a waste," Othmar growled.
"It does seem like an ill-use of feedstock, but it has been made clear that exterminating the Horde is not an option the red dragons will agree with," Kamet seemed to shrug carelessly. "Thus the best course of action is to concentrate and contain them so that they are properly controlled. Mayhaps in time they can be put to productive use to make up for the resource drain."
"Least they can do after burning our homes," Othmar agreed. What were a few decades of indentured servitude to those who caused such damage after all?
"At least the magical ability of the red dragons and high elves will stem the worst of the predicted famine and merely turn it into a lean year or two," Kamet added.
"How magnanimous of them to come in and save the day after all the fighting is over," Othmar growled.
First, the high elves insulted the Alliance as a whole by sending a pathetically minor force to aid the army and then they relied on the Alliance troops to save them when the Horde finally reached their front door. The dragons had defeated the Horde in a single day, but why did they wait until so many Alliance lives had been lost, countless homes destroyed, innocent people slain, and his home nearly overrun? He had trembled with anger at the news that the Capital City had been assaulted by a giant monster and nearly destroyed. Garithos had wept at the death of the Archbishop who had helped so many over his long life.
Why did the rest of them have to sacrifice so much for the sake of others who barely seemed to care?!
At least the nerubians, strange as they may be at times, were upfront and honest about things.
They had not joined the Alliance's war with the Horde right away. They were still new after all and still trying to understand their suddenly expanded world, but they did provide access to their war beasts and specialists. Once they did join the war, they moved as fast as they could to get soldiers and powerful Spiderlords to the Eastern Kingdoms to assist despite the difficulties in moving their troops all the way from Northrend. Compared to the uppity high elves, who only cared to send their main army after the war affected them personally, and the dragons, who made demands for ending the war, the nerubians had acted in good faith with the Alliance. Now that the fighting here in the north was over, he had no doubt that the high elves were attempting to wiggle out of any future responsibility.
Self-important cowards!
"There is still much work to be done, and defenses should be strengthened to account for future threats such as Horde remnants, forest trolls, gnolls, bandits, and other potential issues that could plague a post-war environment," Kamet listed. "You should also attempt to expand farming and other industries here in Blackwood and surrounding lands under your control to improve overall production."
"We'll get to it then," Othmar confirmed. "While our soldiers go to reclaim the south we must be here to support them."
"Indeed," Kamet said simply. "We hope to continue our mutually beneficial relationship with each other, Baron Garithos."
"And I, the same," Othmar said honestly.
If the war had taught him anything, it was that in the face of crisis, you learned who were your true allies, who were the enemies that had to be destroyed, and who were the snakes in the grass ready to use you until you had nothing left to provide and then tossed you aside.
It had been humanity who helped save the high elves during the Trolls Wars and most recently, it was the dwarves and gnomes who helped occupy the Horde in the south, and the nerubians who fought with the Eastern Kingdoms without taking the easy option of staying back at home.
Othmar Garithos intended to take this lesson to heart.
—----------------------
While most of the Horde and its leadership were defeated and captured thanks to the efforts of the Alliance and its allies, that did not mean that the fighting was done.
There were still large numbers of the Horde's soldiers squatting in the ruins of the kingdom of Stormwind, and naturally, the Dark Portal itself that connected their homeworld to Azeroth in the first place.
Already the Alliance was preparing a combined military force made up of the Seven Kingdoms, Aerie Peak, Quel'Thalas, the Church of the Holy Light and their paladins, Azjol-Nerub, and even a few of the Dragonflights to help reclaim it all and push the Horde back to the portal.
But there was much to be done at home still, such as dealing with other threats within their borders. Namely in the form of bands of Horde remnants who escaped capture into the countryside of various kingdoms that needed to be hunted down and dealt with one way or another. The last thing the Alliance wanted was threats at their backs while their forces were away, something Capital City had dealt with to terrible effect.
These remnants though would not be easy to find, their small size making it easy for them to disappear into the little-known places of the world. Which is why specialized task forces and groups were made to track them down, utilizing the skills and abilities of all the members of the Alliance while also encouraging interkingdom cooperation.
One of said groups would become legends in time, but for now were some of the most effective hunters of the Horde's remnants throughout the Eastern Kingdoms.
Rhonin of Dalaran, Vereesa Windrunner of Quel'Thalas, and Falstad Wildhammer of Aerie Peak.
Three unlikely people made allies, fast friends, and for at least two of them… something more.
---
Rhonin still felt like a man who had to prove himself and make up for his mistakes. The Kirin Tor and the Council of Six, or Four as it currently was with Archmage Krasus' leave of absence due to conflicting loyalties and Archmage Runeweaver still recovering from his injuries, had released him from his probation due to his brave actions in aiding in the defense of Capital City during the C'Thrax attack.
As an up-and-coming member of the Kirin Tor, Rhonin was as headstrong, reckless, and eager to prove himself as he was skilled in magic. Which is why early on in the war, his foolishness directly led to the death of several comrades. His actions were only forgiven due to the fact they helped prevent a group of orcs from using dark magic to summon a demon and cause more deaths.
Then came the C'thrax attack. Archmage Krasus or Korialstrasz, as he now preferred to be called, had commanded all available mages from Dalaran to defend the Capital City. He had yet to fully process that one of his teachers was secretly a dragon of all things for centuries. The fighting had been tough and he had found his magical spells barely sufficient in defeating the voidling creatures spawned by the monster.
Still, the whole series of recent events made it clear to him that he had much to learn, and not just about magic.
Thus when the Kirin Tor asked for volunteers among its members to assist in efforts to track down remnants of the Horde he had jumped at the chance, as a personal penance and further learning experience.
Which is why in recent weeks he had been traveling all over the Eastern Kingdoms alongside two companions, Vereesa Windrunner, and Falstad Wildhammer.
Their task was to track down various bands of orcs, trolls, and ogres who had escaped capture and either inform the closest army units or handle it themselves if they could. Despite his newly acquired respect for caution and clear thinking, he and his companions were usually able to deal with the Horde remnants themselves due to their not-insignificant combined skill.
Such as now…
"Warlock!" he yelled out in warning as he unleashed a bolt of fire at the dark magic user, which was sadly blocked with a Fel shield. Rhonin parried another orc's ax with his staff before blasting him in the face with an arcane missile.
"If someone could do something about that, that would be great!"
"Did you suddenly run out of spells, human?!" Vereesa said as she fired off an arrow at a charging orc, downing it in a single shot.
"No, but it's rather hard to cast anything complex while fighting for our lives!" Rhonin pointed out as he let out a cone of frost to give them some space. "Though fighting alongside a woman as deadly as she is beautiful certainly helps encourage me to try better!"
"Will a wounding shot encourage you more?" Vereesa sneered as she dodged another strike and flashed out in retaliation with a dagger.
"Depends on the wound!" Rhonin admitted.
Thankfully, before they could be completely surrounded or the warlock could unleash any potent spells, lightning came down from the sky all around them as their third and arguably fourth companion finally arrived.
"Sorry to keep you both waiting, but it seemed like you had it handled!" Falstad Wildhammer laughed atop his mount and partner Swiftwing. The gryphon shrieked in agreement as it slashed through the orcs with his talons, while Falstad's stormhammer unleashed small stormbolts into them as well.
Taking advantage of the momentary chaos, Rhonin finally had time to cast a proper spell and unleashed his own lightning bolt at the warlock, breaking through its shield and slaying it instantly.
After that, all that was left was the clean up.
---
Vereesa Windrunner did not expect her first official assignment as a ranger of Quel'Thalas to be as an escort to a human wizard and a gryphon-riding dwarf. She'd much rather be with her sister, Alleria, as the Alliance prepared to push into the southern part of the continent and drive back the Horde still located there.
But hunting down the foul monsters that were most likely a part of the force that attacked Quel'Thalas was a close second.
As for the why, beyond the fact they did so at all, well…
"The Horde killed my mother, my younger brother, and many extended family members when they burned through Eversong," she stated in a deadpan voice as she sat around the fire with her 'companions', the arrogant human and the savage dwarf.
Silence greeted her declaration.
"Well… I'm sorry for your loss," Rhonin, in one of the few times since she had met him, said with no wit or sarcasm. "And that I asked, honestly. Last thing I wanted was to bring up such fresh wounds. I was just curious why you were so willing to work with us and not other rangers, is all."
"Although you vex me, I cannot deny your skill and both of your willingness to go into the deep wild places to hunt down our prey," Vereesa admitted. "So you at least deserved the truth as to my motivations."
"No need to explain yourself to us, lass. We get wanting to avenge kith and kin wrongly taken from us," Falstad said as he brushed Swiftwing's fur and feathers. "Just don't be overly eager to join them, is all. I rather think they'd want to see you again after living a long and happy life."
"Indeed," Rhonin said. "Your family wouldn't want you to destroy yourself seeking revenge on their behalf, but at least you are among friends and comrades who will support and back you up when you need it. We will help make sure their spirits and the spirits of countless others can rest well as we bring those responsible to justice. Just don't be too willing to throw yourself into danger is all. Speaking from personal experience, that is a fast way to getting yourself or others killed."
"I… will keep both your advice in mind," Veressa said quietly as she cared for her bow and arrows.
'Maybe he isn't as vexing as I thought,' she thought in the privacy of her own mind.
---
"On the right!"
"I see them!"
"I got both your backs!"
With each successful hunt, they grew more and more skilled as a team.
Rhonin as their magical fire support, Vereesa their tracker and sniper, and Falstad as their lightning-fast hammer and scout.
Orcs, ogres, trolls, gnolls, bandits, feral beasts; none could stand against them.
Of course, from Falstad's perspective it was more than just their fighting ability and friendship that grew over time, however.
"Watch yourself, human! I just had to save your life again," Veressa mock complained.
"I am honored that you think of me so dearly that you are keeping track of each time, Lady Windrunner," Rhonin fired back with a smirk.
"Only because who else would care about your petty life?" Veressa countered, which was only betrayed by a slight blush on her face.
"Like two alphas courting each other, these two," Falstad muttered so softly to himself that only his companion Swiftwing could hear him over the din of battle, the gryphon screeching in agreement as they both dispatched an ogre magi with talon and hammer.
Still, despite the ridiculousness of their courtship, Falstad was near certain the two would officially hit it off by year's end, while Swiftwing was betting that it would be less than that.
And the bird was very good at gambling in his experience.
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xbox432
Lover of Editing
Heh, I don't know if it's just the bias of going last or not. But I can't help but feel that as short as Falstad's sections was, it was the most interesting and hilarious. Two Alphas indeed... Though the most surprising?
Also, aw, Garithos made a friend.
Lastly, I'm liking the fact that a lot of the POVs in these chapters have been internally thinking of "indentured servitude for a few decades" in regards to the Orcs rather than eternal slavery. The current generation might need to pay for their crimes, their children do not. And yes, I'm firmly in the camp of the Orcs needing to pay. They may have been under the influence of Fell and Shadow magic, but they are also the ones who agreed to be corrupted. It's no different from a drunk driver who kills someone. Not being fully in control of your mind while committing a crime is not an excuse when you willing put yourself in that position to begin with.
I... I don't think I've ever read a WoW fic where I didn't want to strangle Garithos. Congratulations, you've officially surprised me with something I've never seen in a fanfiction before. An actually reasonable and likeable Garithos. He might still be pissed at the Elves, but seriously, who wouldn't be? While Kael'Thas and the Windrunner sisters are good people, and the Elven commoners bear no fault, the vast majority of Silvermoon's ruling class are insufferable assholes. And he's entirely correct in the fact that it was the Humans who've saved the Elves twice now. You'd think that'd do something to curb their arrogance...
Also, aw, Garithos made a friend.
Lastly, I'm liking the fact that a lot of the POVs in these chapters have been internally thinking of "indentured servitude for a few decades" in regards to the Orcs rather than eternal slavery. The current generation might need to pay for their crimes, their children do not. And yes, I'm firmly in the camp of the Orcs needing to pay. They may have been under the influence of Fell and Shadow magic, but they are also the ones who agreed to be corrupted. It's no different from a drunk driver who kills someone. Not being fully in control of your mind while committing a crime is not an excuse when you willing put yourself in that position to begin with.