Demon Gate Interlude 3
You father took it all in without commend, nodding or shaking his head along with your narrative. "Hm." he grunted again. "In situations like these I find it helpful to organise my thoughts properly. What did you want when you contacted me and sought to open this gate?"
Your father had taught you rhetoric and logic as a child, or tried to at least before he grew frustrated with your insistence on following honour's path in the hypothetical situations he posed. It was not to say Neeru Fireblade was a cold-hearted individual, indeed he possessed all the savagery and rage of your race, but he was better than most. After all, a demonologist prone to wild swings of emotion would soon be overcome by his summonings.
His question cut to the heart of it though, and it brought you back down to what was important. "I want your advice, your thoughts and your recommendations." you began, "I want news of Kalimdor and of our people, and ideally I'd like the reinforcements we spoke about when I left."
Your father nods firmly, "Then those you will have. The last will take the longest… let me see."
The warlock steps back, slightly away from the centre and regards the portal. You follow his gaze, for while the portal on your side was a rough-cut oval, the one in Desolace appeared to be a large stone supported by two smaller ones. How did the different sized portals fit into each other? If you entered at the very corner of the Desolace square portal, how could you exit from an oval portal in Alterac?
That was only one strange point you'd thought of, and when you made to examine the columns you saw ancient pictograms of cavalry, no, of centaurs. The portal must have been made from old standing stones cut by the centaurs. Such works would have been sacred, and your father must have transported them there, for as you looked at the architecture of the ruins around the portal you recognised elf work. It was likely an old settlement built on ley-lines, for such a place would be easier to construct portals or other magical works.
Your father begins muttering, the fingers on his artificial hand twirling and poking at glyphs he summons or draws in fire, stark against the world.
"This would only last a few hours unattended." your father notes, nodding toward the portal, "Pay attention, I've learned much of portal making in the last few months and you may learn something." he began to make gestures you recognise now from your basic understanding of demonology. "I plan to summon more and greater demons in future, and that necessitated a greater understanding of the principles of arcane magic in the first place. Portals need energy, but I've found that a greater control over that energy has been very useful."
The Hand of Iruxos then was a magical artefact which enhanced your father's ability to control such energies. Had he been studying the elven ruins in this area? Perhaps, but wherever the Hand had come from, you could feel it's power. While you're no arcanist, you can feel the energies flowing toward the portal. Then, with a sudden grasp his hand closes with tongues of fire flowing out, then forward as your father points, marshalling great energies that he's grasped from somewhere.
"Are you taking energy from the ley lines?" you ask him. Some Orcs call them the Earthblood, for energy pumps around Azeroth under the earth in the same way blood around a body, but your father is entirely familiar with the more precise terms the Highborn elves used to develop Arcane magic.
Not-Fire flows from the Hand of Iruxos into the structure of the portal and you feel the energies around you roaring, then immediately dying down, tired in some way to the Hand.
"You're controlling it somehow?" you murmured, looking at the demonic runes on your father's fist.
"It is only a matter of will." he replies, though his voice is a little fatigued. "As are many things. How many warriors do you command?" he asked, eyes turning on you.
"About ten thousand Orcs." you replied, "And a few thousand others."
"Good, we shall see how many I might wrest for you." your father said, and in a moment of concentration you saw shadows, invisible demons no doubt, flying out across the land. "I have considerable influence over the forces here and with the infusion of energy the portal will remain for three days, perhaps. That will be long enough to gather several of the warbands."
You said nothing. The words implied that your father did not in fact command all the Burning Blade in Desolace…
"You must prepare the way, I've ordered several companies to quit battle and make their way here. You'll need to see them through to whatever base you have." your father said, and you nodded, striding swiftly back through the portal and giving the commands, before returning to your father. You'd order Haomarush to see to it and the Demonsword would prepare and direct whatever reinforcements your father was sending.
It was an immediate result, but the implication was worrying. No matter, you would face it all the same.
"Now we wait." Neeru continued, "It will take some time for the warbands to get here, but that leaves us time to speak. Come, let us sit."
You followed him a stone, half buried in the grey dirt of Desolace. Your father's new hand left deep burns in the rock as he steadied himself to sit down. It hadn't burned his clothes, or you though. Could he control when it let forth fire?
"You will have many questions." He told you, "Would that we had longer, and could discuss them at greater length. I would enjoy hearing of your successes, just as I would simply enjoy time with you. I'll send for food later, though the fare is poor enough here… No matter, no matter."
You father sighed, looking over toward the distant silhouette of Thunder Axe Fortress.
"Even a short time is good." you replied, smiling at him. In truth, you'd have preferred to relax and to enjoy the company of family and kin for longer as well, but both of you had many concerns.
He nodded slowly. "There is much I should tell you. Much I will tell you… Much I could not, would not tell you before. I have been unworthy, I realised this some time ago but my pride stopped me from voicing it. Recent events have shaken that pride substantially and I find myself in a much different position to before." he paused, "Hm. Let us speak of Kalimdor first, for you must understand some of my position to understand what I might advise you to do."
"What happened once I left? What of Thrall, of Orgrimmar?" you asked.
"I called the Circle of Elders." your father replied darkly.
Your eyebrows rose. The body was much as the name suggested, a loose group of the most senior Orcs in the Horde with many shaman, but also elements from the other professions. Chiefs would join it if they passed on their rank to another, while in other cases very senior warriors who were too weak to fight, but still wanted to serve their community would join. The institution was one of the most ancient of your people but had very few specific powers, and was governed by few rules. In the days before Warchiefs the Circle would meet to discuss matters of relevance to all Orcs, such as coordination of military action against the Ogres. The Circle could declare outlawry, call for war or peace, censure a shaman or chief in a way no other group could, or even make sanction against a whole clan. The Mok'Nathal had gone before the Circle as a group to gain acceptance among the Orcs, while Blackhand had used it more as a means of controlling discontent, and had stripped the group of much of its power. To Thrall though, it was a consultive assembly which had not formally met in many years, partly because your father would have significant power there as the Elder Warlock of the Horde, and because Thrall greatly distrusted the assembly and the danger of Orcs calling for war. That your father had called it without Thrall's sanction was significant indeed.
"Thrall spent much time in meditation after the March of Forneus, and my power was ascendant after I defeated the Elemental. Saurfang was with me, as were many of the Blackrock and I went among the New Clan speaking of new lands and settlements they could claim." Your father said. You could well believe the last point, for the New Clan were generally in great poverty due to their lack of community connections and reliable sources of support. They'd have jumped at the chance to advance themselves though war.
"They counselled that we march on the Merchant Coast and subjugate the humans there. I thought that foolish but I supported it till Thrall was forced to bestir himself and oppose the matter. I thought maybe to have Thrall removed by the assent of the Circle and place Saurfang there, but they refused me. It was a sting, I'll not deny that, but I took no injury other than the one to my pride… The Warchief has been acting more like a shaman than as a war-leader for some time, and while some of what he's done has been valuable to our people, in the meantime we lost Ashenvale and we've been mostly pushed out of the Stonetalon Mountains." Your father continued.
"The Kal'dorei struck?" you asked.
Your father nodded, "All was chaos after Forneus' attack, it was easy for the Sentinels to sweep down on the few settlements we had there. Many of the Warsong were slain in useless battles and crept back wounded. You see, I had long suspected Thrall sought to destroy our clan, and knew for both the obvious reasons, and for other reasons I shall explain shortly, that I must prevent it. I could not do so openly, for he outmanoeuvred me until you took the blame and the exile, but this time I was able to tie him in knots. I called the Circle of Elders, I laid a dozen matters, great and small before them and had witnesses speak for my causes, even Thrall's allies swore by the Spirits and had to speak the truth. Thrall is weak now. The Circle has not dissolved and I brought a number of his secrets and failures to light. His position is secure but the Circle didn't approve of a number of measures and they've constrained him greatly, and made that known."
Once you might have called that dishonourable. You still thought it was, for while you could lie if you needed to you had never stooped to skulking and intrigues in the shadows for gain.
"To have my son and heir go into exile gave me great moral authority." your father continued, "I led forces to attack the Quillboar and burned Razonfen Downs to ashes. You destroyed the Kolkar, and those two moves made the Barrens largely secure. That gave the Horde breathing room, for if the Quillboar and Centaur had continued to assail us Orgrimmar would have starved in short order. Thrall has been continually caught on the back foot but I've been working with Nazgrel, who incidentally gave me a very touching public apology for his treatment of you, to retrench our lines and frontiers. The Horde is concentrated now, and more secure. I've made my own alliances too, the Grimtotem tribe have been both friend and foe. Their matron has spoken against me in the Circle, but we've fought alongside them many a time. It is well, I think, for even if they don't view us as friends, there is no faction in the Horde that does not give our clan the respect we deserve."
"And what of you?" you asked, "You speak as if you've lost influence when it would seem to me that you've gained it."
"That is complex." Neeru replied. "I am perceived as too aggressive, too close to the Fel, too hostile to Thrall. Few would willingly approach me to make alliance or offer concessions, instead I must go to them and extract what I can. I and our clan are more famous than before, but folk are more wary of us, save for those with whom we are already firmly allied, namely the Blackrock and the Shattered Hand. It is a misstep on my part, and I can constrain my pride enough to admit that."
Looking at him it would be difficult for anyone not to distrust him, you thought. If such a figure approached he would be distrusted by most, the prejudice against the Fel being strong in some areas of the Horde. You understood what he meant though, the culture of your people was complex indeed.
"I was successful at least in obliterating any chance that Thrall might have taken action against our clan." Neeru continued, "Power and influence are more widely diffused now, and it is for the better. We are less decisive, less agile for more must be consulted before decisions are made, but that means it is impossible for any individual to make a decision which could have such harsh impact on a single clan or group, or even an individual."
And there was why you could not call it dishonourable. If you faced such a challenge you might have challenged Thrall to Mak'gora, but that would hardly have solved the problem. Your father had at least gotten a result, even if it wasn't the one he'd sought.
"All of that passed quickly." your father explained, "Much occurred in a short space of time, but then we started to get news of you. News that you were speaking to the humans, triumphing over the Scourge and so on. You arranged for the liberation of the Forsaken, another blow to Thrall and you defeated Mograine. After that you fought in Mak'gora against a chief and blademaster, and also defeated the Frostwolves. I speak briefly of these things due to the needs of time, but this is not to say I should speak briefly of them. You deserve to be lauded by the Horde for what you've done. In a year you achieved more for the recognition of our people among far nations, than Thrall did in almost a decade with his mewling diplomacy with the Proudmoore."
"I did what seemed right to me at the time." you said, "And while I might have done differently, I am proud of my deeds, yes."
"You should be." your father said, "I am." He smiled, reaching for your shoulder with his remaining natural hand, and you clasped the scaled limb there and smiled back. "Your legend has grown and I have come three times before the Circle of Elders to speak of you. It has been a blow each time to Thrall. Eitrigg spoke well of you when he learned that you were fighting alongside Tirion Fordring. I was not there that day, but it would have given much to have seen Thrall's face. Many have spoken for your actions though, asking why, if a young exile like you can do it, why the Horde cannot have better relations, relations of honour and equality, with the humans. It has been a matter of much debate among our people."
"I'm glad to hear it." you reply simply. If you had to show them the way, you would. The path of honour was not an easy one, perhaps not as easy as these greybeards would have thought it, but at least they were thinking about it. Today's elders had been yesterday's senior warriors, and perhaps it would make them think more about their own actions in the First and Second Wars.
No. It was not enough to think such a thing, so you said it instead. "I have learned, as I have travelled, that I am discontent with the Horde today. I want more for our people. I want more than scrabbling around in the dust, speaking of glories but being drunk on our own stories."
Your father smiled, but it was a sad smile this time. "You have the optimism of youth, my son. You will think differently in time perhaps, but treasure those hopes for now." He shook his head, "Now comes that which I have not told you, but that which you must know, if you would have my advice." While for much of the conversation your father has been gazing off and simply speaking to the air, now he turned to you and fixed you with his gaze.
"I shall speak simply and without prevarication, for I wish to be clear." your father said flatly. "Our clan are demon-worshippers and I am not the chief but rather a mere slave among the other slaves of the Burning Legion."
