The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows over the hills as the first traces of twilight crept into the horizon, the deepening blue just beginning to swallow the fading warmth of daylight.
Nzaria crouched on a rocky outcrop overlooking the old copper mines, her sharp gaze sweeping over the landscape below. The mine entrance was nestled within the side of a craggy ridge, the once-proud dwarven craftsmanship now marred by the unmistakable taint of the Twilight's Hammer.
A crude encampment had been erected outside the mine- hastily built, yet effective. Dark canvas tents were arranged in loose clusters, their surfaces marked with spiraling runes that pulsed faintly with violet light. Wooden barricades reinforced with sharpened stakes ringed the outer perimeter, cultists patrolling the area in small groups.
'They've had time to dig in. Not a temporary presence. A foothold.'
A number of them were Ogres, hulking brutes with thick, ashen-gray skin covered in crude, jagged tattoos of purple ink. The rest were of various different races- humans, orcs and elves, but the most common were the dwarfs, an even mix of Dark Irons and fairer-skinned Bronzebeards and Wildhammers.
'Diverse, but disunited. Observe the fractures.'
Like in the Highlands, the mine entrance was lined with twisted elementium spikes, each one driven deep into the earth at seemingly random intervals. The blackened metal pulsed with a sickly, violet light, veins of energy creeping through the soil like cracks in shattered glass. As she watched, more spikes were brought up from the mine in a small cart.
"That's what they're here for," Lanya murmured, barely above a whisper.
Nzaria barely contained her instinctive flinch. She hadn't even noticed the night elf move up beside her. Lanya was as silent as the shifting breeze, her voice barely audible.
"Elementium veins brought closer to the surface by the Cataclysm," the druid added, her piercing eyes fixed on the pulsing spikes below.
It was more than she'd spoken during their entire journey.
"Good thinking," Thoradin muttered from Nzaria's other side. "We always did wonder what they were after in the old mines. They weren't poor by any means, but nothing worth this."
"So, we're here," she said, turning towards the dwarf. "What's the plan?"
"Well," Thoradin muttered, his voice low but firm. "I figure we hit them hard, take out the guards, smash those cursed spikes, and I can bring the tunnel entrance down on top of the rest of 'em." He nodded toward the mine. "Bury 'em in. Let 'em suffocate."
Nzaria's expression didn't change. "That won't work."
Thoradin blinked, looking at her. "Aye? And why's that?"
She gestured subtly toward the mines. "They have an Elemental Gate somewhere in there."
Thoradin frowned. "A what now?"
Nzaria exhaled slowly. Did these people know nothing of how the Twilight's Hammer operated?
"A portal," she explained. "Outposts like this use them to transport materials without exposing their supply lines. But more importantly, they serve as sources of reinforcements. Even if you collapse the entrance, it won't stop the Twilight's Hammer operation here. At best it'll just postpone the problem, make it harder to get to their real operation."
'They will question how you know this. Be careful.'
'Keep it simple. A paladin should know of dark magic, after all.'
Thoradin ran a hand over his braided beard, expression darkening. "Hrm. So that's what that is. I felt somethin' odd in the air, but I didn't think much of it, what with the spikes and all." His fingers drummed against his knee. "So what do ye suggest? Much as I hate to agree with my father, I doubt the four of us can take an entire cultist outpost head-on."
Nzaria narrowed her eyes.
"Not if we fight fair," she said.
Thoradin's brows furrowed. "Fair?"
"We wait for twilight to fully fall."
Koltus gave a small hum of amusement. "Won't that embolden them?"
"It will distract them." Nzaria said. "Twilight is sacred to the Hammer. They'll be busy praying. That's when we hit them."
It felt blasphemous to say that. The Twilight was sacred to her as well, she just… served the True Gods in her own way.
Koltus gave her a slow, unreadable look. "You seem to know quite a bit about the Twilight's Hammer."
Nzaria's fingers drummed lightly against the cold stone beneath her. She kept her tone casual.
"I've been fighting them for a long time."
Koltus tilted his head slightly, considering her answer, but said nothing further.
Thoradin, however, was already thinking ahead.
"That'll get us the first hit," he admitted, "but the advantage won't last forever."
Nzaria's gaze flickered back toward the camp.
"They have other weaknesses," she murmured, eyes scanning the divided patrols. "Notice how the Ogres and cultists don't mix groups?"
Thoradin squinted. "…Aye."
"The cult's leaders encourage factions to keep anyone from gathering too much power. The Ogres who've been with the Twilight's Hammer since Draenor don't much like the newcomers."
"How the hell do they even function, then?"
Nzaria smirked slightly. "Their leaders keep them focused on a shared goal, but that makes them vulnerable. They won't have a dedicated successor in place because that would be a threat to their position."
'This, you know very well.'
"And if any cultist tried to claim the spot, the Ogres would oppose them…" Koltus mused.
"And vice versa," Nzaria finished.
Thoradin gave a small, thoughtful grunt. "So we cut off the head, an' let the body turn on itself."
"Exactly," Nzaria said.
She leaned forward slightly, eyes flicking toward a tent near the mine's entrance, where a dark orb pulsed on an altar.
"That brings us to the third vulnerability," she said. "That thing. The Eye of Twilight."
Thoradin raised a brow. "And what's that do?"
"Long-distance communication," Nzaria replied. "If something happens to the outpost's leader, they'll use it to contact the higher-ups, get new marching orders. But if something were to happen to it, the whole place would fall into chaos."
"Oh I like this plan," Koltus grinned.
Thoradin ran his hands through his beard again, turning towards the fourth member of their group, who had remained silent. "What do you think, Lanya?"
The night elf didn't answer immediately. She had been watching the camp below, her violet eyes keen, her expression unreadable. Finally, she gave a small nod.
"Better than barging in," she murmured.
Nzaria turned toward her fully. "How good are you at infiltration?"
Lanya didn't hesitate. "Good enough for Scourge necropoli."
Nzaria gave a satisfied nod.
"Then," she said, her voice low and steady, "here's what we're going to do…"
-----
Nzaria crouched low behind a jagged outcrop of stone, her form blending into the deepening shadows as the last remnants of sunlight stretched long across the landscape. The rocky ridge they had taken cover behind gave them a clear vantage point over the mine and its surroundings, the terrain sloping downward into the heart of the Twilight's Hammer encampment below.
The sky was beginning to shift- not yet fully twilight, but no longer day. The sun lingered on the horizon, casting the hills in hues of burnt orange and dusky violet, the first faint stars flickering to life in the vast expanse above.
Beside her, Thoradin had placed a small, weathered totem on the ground, its surface carved with intricate dwarven runes. He knelt beside it, one hand resting lightly on the worn wood, his fingers tracing the ancient symbols with quiet reverence. His lips moved in low, measured tones, speaking in a quiet voice.
Nzaria could feel the power flowing from him to the earth, and from the earth to the shaman. It was entirely unlike the Elementalists of the Twilight's Hammer- a conversation, not a command.
Koltus leaned against the stone with a lazy ease that Nzaria knew was entirely deliberate. He held himself relaxed, watching the scene unfold below with an unreadable smile. The dying light cast faint glints across his sharp features, highlighting the flicker of something thoughtful in his gaze- always watching, always assessing.
The camp below stirred, the change in time affecting the cultists. The rhythm of the outpost subtly shifted; the guards near the elementium spikes moved slower, their eyes turning skyward. The first few among them had paused their patrols, muttering prayers under their breath.
Nzaria exhaled slowly, her fingers tightening against the stone beneath her.
It wouldn't be long now.
And that meant their moment to strike was approaching.
The minutes stretched on, the tension thick between them as they waited. The twilight deepened, the last golden hues of the sun bleeding away into the violet and indigo of approaching night. The air grew cooler, the stillness of the land only broken by the crackling torches and the occasional murmured prayers of the cultists below.
Nzaria remained motionless, her gaze sharp, tracking every movement in the encampment. The camp had slowed, as expected- guards patrolling at a lazier pace, shoulders less rigid, eyes drawn toward the sky rather than the perimeter. The humanoid cultists gathered in loose circles, some kneeling in silent reverence, while others stood with arms raised toward the heavens, whispering devotions to the True Gods.
And then-
A commotion.
A figure burst from the mine entrance, running full speed toward the center of the camp. The cultist- a human, clad in tattered violet robes -was panting, his movements frantic, arms waving as he called out in a panicked voice.
The camp stirred, heads turning sharply at the sudden disturbance.
The robed man stumbled into the open, nearly collapsing as he reached a cluster of more heavily armed cultists. He grasped at one's shoulder, his words tumbling out in a rush. Almost instantly, an argument broke out.
Shouting. Fingers were being pointed. Then one of the Ogres waded into the middle of the argument, shouting loudly.
Koltus grinned, something predatory in his expression as he turned to Thoradin.
"That is your cue, my vertically-challenged friend."
The dwarf glared at the human, but returned his attention to the totem, rising to his feet and spreading his arms in a lifting gesture. Instantly, Nzaria felt the shift in the air- and in the ground beneath her hooves, which was shaking and shuddering, loose pebbles falling down the cliffside. The entire outcropping they were hiding behind was moving, drawing alarmed shouts from the cultists, but it was too late.
With a sharp, splintering crack, it split apart, and something huge rose from within. Taller than an Ogre and twice as wide, a colossal figure of stone and earth pulled itself free from the ridge, its form a shifting mass of jagged boulders and compacted soil, shaped into the rough approximation of a humanoid torso and thick, crushing limbs.
The first cultists barely had time to react before the elemental was upon them, swinging its massive arm to smash into one of the outer wooden barricades, sending splintered beams and sharpened stakes flying.
"And that, my not-so-challenged friend, is ours," Koltus grinned as he looked up at Nzaria, her visage a good foot and a half taller than him.
"I know," Nzaria bit out, hefting her warhammer and shield. "It's my plan."
Without waiting, she vaulted over the ridge, hooves hitting the ground with a solid thud as she charged towards the chaos below.
The Earth Elemental had torn a hole through the Twilight's Hammer camp, leaving crushed bodies in its wake. As she watched, it traded blows with a massive Ogre, fists made of boulders denting the brute's armour, while his enormous hammer left spiderweb cracks in the elemental's stony hide.
Nzaria barely spared them another glance. The Elemental was always meant to be a distraction.
She had her own work to do.
A robed night elf had barely turned in her direction before her shield crashed into his chest, the force of the impact sending him sprawling into the dirt with a strangled cry. He gasped for breath, hands clawing at his ribs- too slow. Nzaria brought her iron-clad hoof down on his head, and stepped over his corpse.
Nzaria would be the first to admit that she was not particularly experienced in humanoid fighting, having only received enough training from the Twilight's Hammer so as to not immediately give herself away as an infiltrator. But the Draenei were among the largest and strongest of the humanoid races of Azeroth, and a dragon's visage form was even stronger than it seemed. Reach, overwhelming strength and a set of heavy plate armour made up for a multitude of shortcomings.
She saw Koltus approaching the camp behind her from the periphery of her eye, holding no visible weapon in his hands.
'Let us see what his mettle is. We've yet to hear exactly what manner of magic he is a specialist of.'
Nzaria barely had time to react before the flash of steel caught her eye. A dwarven cultist, his two-handed sword already descending toward her chest.
She barely managed to angle her body before the rune-etched blade skidded off her breastplate, the horrible screech of metal against metal rattling her teeth.
"Pah- Draenei! You think your kind is pure? You will kneel to the Masters, just like the rest of them!"
The dwarf came at her again, a wild look in his eyes, but his attacks were precise and practiced. Low, high, low, feint, low, high.
Nzaria warded off each blow by the skin of her teeth, only her shield keeping her head from being cleaved from her shoulders.
'Don't let him dictate the pace. Take control of the fight.'
'Try to match him skill for skill and you will lose.'
Nzaria growled in frustration, swinging her warhammer in a wide arc to try to disrupt the dwarf's rhythm, but he hooked his blade underneath her weapon and yanked, twisting the hammer from her grip.
"Now, you are mine."
Nzaria acted on instinct.
With a wild shove, she threw her shield up, smashing it straight into his chest.
It wasn't a clean hit- her footing was poor, the angle awkward, but she was bigger, stronger, and the force alone was enough to send him stumbling backward with a grunt of pain.
Her pulse pounded in her ears.
The dwarf tried to recover, his boots skidding against the dirt, his arms flailing for balance.
Nzaria didn't give him the chance.
She stepped in, putting her whole body behind the strike as she drove her gauntleted fist into the dwarf's cheek. His jaw was all but torn off in a spray of blood, hanging on by a thread while his head spun on his neck to an unnatural angle, accompanied by a dry snap.
The body crumpled to the ground, motionless.
Above her, a streak of molten light shot through the air: a magma bolt from Thoradin, roaring past her head before smashing into a cluster of Twilight's Hammer tents.
Fire erupted.
The canvas ignited instantly, flames licking hungrily across the encampment as the surrounding braziers tipped over, spilling burning coals across the ground. Thick, acrid smoke began to coil upward, turning the battlefield into a hazy, flickering inferno and obscuring line of sight.
All the better to sow chaos amongst the Twilight's Hammer, and keep them from utilizing their advantage of numbers. Many of them might not even be aware that they were under attack by an outside force, rather than mere infighting- after all, the cult employed many Elementalists within its ranks.
The smoke did make it difficult to see anything, and stung in her nose with an acrid, burning smell, while the din of the Elemental's rampage made navigating by sound a difficult proposition.
Instead, Nzaria drew upon her other senses, focusing on the pulsating source of energy in her mind's eye, drawing her towards the center of the encampment.
Another cultist emerged from the smoke, a female Orc wielding an axe in each hand, bellowing in fury and hurling herself at Nzaria. She got the shield between her and her opponent just in time, the weapon sparking harmlessly off its rim. She held the shield tight as blow after blow rained down, the clang of metal on metal ringing in her ears, drowning out the roar of the flames around them.
The Orc pressed harder, trying to overwhelm her, trying to knock her off balance, giving her no room to counterattack, pushing closer, closer-
'Let her exhaust herself.'
Nzaria grit her teeth and planted her feet, absorbing the force of the cultist's frenzied assault. The Orc spat and frothed at her, but she held her ground, always keeping her opponent at an arm's length with her shield, letting her batter herself against it over and over.
'She can't keep this up forever.'
Sure enough, Nzaria noticed the Orc's breathing start to quicken fractionally, coming in rasping gasps.
And when she let up for just an instant, a mere moment to catch her breath, Nzaria jabbed the spiked tip of her warhammer into the Orc's ribs, before yanking it upwards and shattering her jaw. The Orc toppled to the ground, and Nzaria finished her off with a stomp of her hooves.
Nzaria pressed forward, her breath ragged, the thick smoke curling around her like spectral hands, clinging to her armor, filling her lungs with the acrid sting of fire and blood. The battlefield was pure chaos: shrieking cultists, the roar of the Earth Elemental, the thunder of collapsing structures, but she blocked it all out.
She felt it now, the pull in her mind's eye, the unnatural pulse of energy that throbbed like a second heartbeat, pulling her deeper into the wreckage of the Twilight's Hammer camp.
The Eye of Twilight was close.
She stalked forward, her warhammer dripping with blood, her shield arm aching from deflected blows, but she did not slow. The closer she came, the stronger the pulse, a thick, oily presence that made her teeth grind and her muscles itch.
Then, through the shifting smoke-
A low, violet glow.
The Eye of Twilight sat atop a crude altar, a massive, floating sphere, pulsing with sickly energy, its surface etched with glowing runes, shifting and writhing like something alive. The ground beneath it was charred black, crackling with latent power, the air humming with whispered voices.
And it wasn't alone.
Two heavily armored figures flanked the altar, Bronzebeard dwarves clad in Twilight-forged plate, their runed halberds raised, their eyes burning with zealotry.
Between them, standing before the Eye, was a robed cultist, their hands raised high in supplication. One hand clutched a curved dagger, while the other dripped blood onto the altar, thick droplets hissing as they splattered onto the corrupted stone.
"Great Masters, hear us! Let all eyes be opened! Let-"
'You are out of time!'
Nzaria grit her teeth, undoing the straps of her shield before hurling it forward with all of her strength.
"No!"
The guards moved, but not fast enough. The steel disk spun through the air like a blade, slamming full-force into the back of the cultist's skull with a sickening crunch. Their words ended in a choked gurgle, the curved dagger slipping from lifeless fingers as their body crumpled forward onto the altar, blood pooling beneath their still form.
The Eye of Twilight convulsed, its violet glow flickering, the whispers in the air sputtering as the unfinished incantation left it in disarray.
Now bereft of her shield, Nzaria feigned reaching for her belt, but the dagger appeared in her grip as if it had always been there, pulled from the essence of her own visage form like all of her attire.
"You dare?!"
"The Masters will devour you whole!"
The dwarven guards surged forward, their armor clanking, halberds glowing with violet runes as they raised them high for a devastating downward strike.
Nzaria had no time for strategy, no time for thought- only reaction.
She lunged sideways, her hooves scraping against the stone, just as the first halberd came down where she had stood a second ago. The second dwarf swung wide, his polearm coming in a brutal arc aimed at her ribs. She barely twisted in time, the blade clipping her side with a metallic clang.
Too fast. Too coordinated.
'Not like the fanatics. Probably defectors from the Ironforge Guard.'
'You cannot cede them the initiative, they will take you apart.'
'Your only advantage is your size and strength: use them.'
The first dwarf thrust at her with the spiked tip of his halberd, and Nzaria wrenched it aside with the hand holding the dagger. She lunged forward, lowering her shoulder and body-checking the first dwarf, sending him staggering backwards. She didn't let up, kneeing him in the gut, even as the dwarf fought to regain his balance. His weight was solid as a mountain, digging his boots into the ground, steadying himself-
Then she slipped her dagger between the plates of his armour, just beneath his ribs.
She wasn't a swordswoman, nor a trained duelist, but she knew where to put a blade when she wanted something to die.
The other dwarf's halberd slammed into her, throwing her off of his comrade, but her armour took the worst of it, and she rolled onto her feet before he could follow up.
Nzaria's gauntleted hand grasped a fistful of loose dirt from the ground, disturbed by the Earth Elemental's passing, and threw it at the cultist's face. While he sputtered and reeled, she kicked his knee in, sending him down to the ground in a heap.
"The whispers-!"
The other dwarf wasn't dead yet, blood gurgling up his throat as he came at Nzaria swinging his halberd in a wild overhead arc.
She was forced to drop her hammer and grasp the polearm below the blade, arresting its fall just inches from her face. For a moment they struggled for control of the weapon, before the shaft splintered in her grip, the bladed head coming free.
The dwarf tried to speak, but she drove the broken halberd into his skull, the cultist finally falling still.
She pulled her dagger out of the dead dwarf's side, and turned around. The second guard was just now staggering to his feet, but before he could pick up his weapon again Nzaria kicked it away, before grabbing him by the hair, pulling his head back, and stabbing the dagger into his throat, and held it there until he stopped struggling.
For a moment, Nzaria merely stood there, bent over, breathing heavily.
Then she straightened, her steps heavy, and deliberate as she strode toward the altar where her shield still lay embedded in the skull of the cultist she had felled moments before.
She yanked it free, the wet crunch barely registering as she hefted its weight in both hands.
Then, she turned towards the Eye.
It hovered in the air just beyond the altar, spinning lazily in place, its surface a smooth, shifting sphere of violet energy, the runes etched into it writhing like living things. It pulsed in slow, rhythmic waves, a steady heartbeat of power radiating outward, filling the chamber with its unnatural presence.
She tried to move, but her body felt unaccountably heavy, her head swimming.
What was she doing? This was a sacred object. Why was she here?
Then, she remembered.
Arrogant child. Who do you think gave the order for your death?
With a snarl of anger, she lifted the shield high, and brought the sharpened rim down on the Eye of Twilight.
The orb convulsed, its sickly violet glow shuddering, the runes along its surface rippling like something alive. She brought the shield down again, cracks running along the length of the Eye.
Then she struck it a third time.
A deafening snap of shattering energy split the air, followed by an eruption of violet shards bursting outward in all directions. The force sent a shockwave through the ground, the fragments ripping through the air like razor-edged glass.
Nzaria staggered back, a sharp sting blooming across her face as the jagged shards sliced into her skin.
She stumbled, her breaths coming in heavy and ragged, wiping off the thin rivulets of black blood running down her face before anyone could see them.
There was still work to do.
But before she could get moving again, heavy footsteps echoed through the smoke, a massive shadow emerging from the gloom.
An Ogre.
The brute strode out of the firelit haze, his bulky frame towering over her, thick muscles rippling beneath scarred, rune-marked flesh. His beady violet eyes locked onto her with murderous intent, and before she could react, he moved.
A fist thicker than her entire torso swung toward her like a battering ram.
She tried to shift, but she was a fraction too slow, her instinct telling her to face it head on- but she wasn't wearing the skin of a drake weighing the better part of two tons, but a Draenei that weighed slightly less than a quarter of one.
The impact hit her square in the stomach, a solid wall of force slamming into her with enough power to cave her breastplate inward and rip the air from her lungs.
She was hurled backward, her armored body crashing into the dirt with a deafening clang, her vision briefly flickering black from the sheer force of the blow.
The Ogre let out a deep, rumbling laugh, stepping forward, raising his war club to finish her off.
Nzaria gritted her teeth, shaking off the impact and kicking a hoof up at the Ogre's chest, but it was like hitting a boulder. The brute barely stumbled back a single step, shaking off the attack like it was nothing.
Then he kicked Nzaria so hard she felt her ribs break, her body bouncing off the ground before rolling to a halt, groaning as she struggled to stand.
The Ogre loomed over her, his boulder-like fist grasping her by the throat and lifting her into the air. The grip tightened, terrible pressure cutting off her breath and feeling as though her neck was about to snap.
Then-
Then she felt something familiar, a current of energy through the air.
"PAIN."
The Ogre's grip vanished as he reeled back, howling in agony, his hands clawing at his own throat as if something unseen was tearing at his mind.
Nzaria gasped in air, vision clearing as she dropped to the ground, her hand flying to her bruised throat. Her head snapped up, searching for the source of the magic.
Koltus stood beside her, his expression calm, his golden eyes gleaming, a familiar, purple light glowing in his palm.
What?
'Shadow magic? From him?'
'Now this is interesting.'
Then, his form began to distort. For an instant, Nzaria's breath caught in her throat- was he another dragon?
But his skin did not turn to scales, nor did his form expand into the massive wingspan of a drake. Instead, thick fur erupted across his body, his posture hunching forward, muscles expanding until he was taller than before, broader- a predator coiled to strike.
His face elongated, his jaw stretching into a fanged, canine muzzle, ears flattening against his head as he let out a deep, guttural growl. His hands, now clawed, flexed as he dropped lower, his gaze snapping toward the reeling Ogre with predatory hunger.
Koltus leapt on the Ogre with a howl, tearing open his throat, and a spray of arterial blood erupted into the air as the brute staggered, his screams turning into a horrible, wet gurgle.
He licked some of the crimson liquid off his lips, before turning towards Nzaria, offering a clawed hand.
"Never seen a Worgen before, paladin?" Koltus' voice was light, but there was something keen in his golden eyes, watching her reaction.
Nzaria exhaled sharply, wincing as she forced herself upright, her muscles protesting every movement. The pain was sharp and deep, a jagged pulse that radiated from her bruised and fractured ribs, each breath an aching reminder of the Ogre's power. With every movement a fresh lance of agony shot up her side, stealing the air from her lungs.
'Weak. This form is too fragile.'
If Koltus took offence to her ignoring his proffered claw, he didn't show it.
"First time for everything, eh?" he smirked, baring too many teeth in the flickering firelight. His eyes flicked briefly to her side, noting the way she still favored it. "Better heal that up- we've got a lot of work to do."
Nzaria glowered at him, her breaths too painful to speak, but the Worgen only chuckled in response, then dropped to all fours and loped off into the smoke, his movement unnervingly fluid, vanishing into the shifting shadows of battle.
Nzaria let out a slow breath, her fingers twitching at her sides. She barely even had to look to know the Ogre's corpse was still teeming with power, the life-energy within it bleeding into the air, free for the taking.
She felt it.
A tantalizing warmth, a flicker of raw vitality, still clinging to the dead flesh like embers in a dying fire. It would be so easy- just a small taste. A moment's indulgence to feed, to restore her strength, to mend her body.
'Don't even think about it.'
'If any of the others see you, all of this will have been for nothing.'
Her jaw tightened, the hunger gnawing at her, but she forced herself to turn away.
Instead, she reached inward, to the power she had taken so long ago- the radiant, searing warmth of Undonn's stolen Light, still coiled deep within her, like a golden ember she had hoarded but never truly consumed.
The moment she touched it, it flared to life.
The power rushed through her, spreading like liquid fire, burning against her insides with a sensation that was not pain, but too close to it- an uncomfortable itching in her bones, a presence that did not belong but had made a home inside her anyway.
She ignored it.
Golden light bloomed in her palm, pure and radiant, flowing outward as she pressed her hand against her side.
A sharp heat spread through her ribs, mending the fractured bone, knitting flesh and sinew back into place with a sensation that was both soothing and unbearable all at once.
Nzaria inhaled deeply, feeling the bones settle, the pain receding into memory.
Her fingers flexed against her armor, and for a long moment, she just stood there, the dying light of her own magic casting eerie shadows against her plated gauntlet.
Then, she exhaled slowly, picking up her hammer and shield where she had discarded them.
They weren't done here yet.
Nzaria stalked forward, following in the direction Koltus had gone in, her hooves crunching against the charred remains of the encampment as she moved toward the mine entrance itself. The structure had been built deep into the hillside, the once-proud dwarven stonework now marred by Twilight's Hammer runes, the wooden support beams blackened and cracked, a set of metal tracks running from the yawning darkness within,
The entrance was littered with bodies.
The cultists lay in twisted, lifeless heaps, throats ripped open by claws and fangs, their blood still fresh and steaming against the cold night air.
Nearby, Thoradin stood beside a mine cart, his thick fingers brushing over its rough wooden frame, eyes narrowing at its contents.
The cart was filled with jagged, glimmering elementium spikes, each one a twisted shard of blackened metal.
Nzaria scowled.
"I felt the Eye shatter," Thoradin said at last, his voice slow, measured. He turned his gaze to her, his usual casual gruffness absent for once. "Well done."
Nzaria's grip tightened around her hammer, the edges of her expression sharp with lingering irritation.
"You could have warned me," she said coolly, her voice laced with controlled frustration, "about Koltus."
Thoradin sighed, resting a hand on the mine cart.
"Not my secret to tell," he admitted, his tone gruff but not unapologetic. "An'… we needed the help."
'He didn't want to take the chance that you'd refuse if you knew about Koltus, until you were committed.'
A muscle tugged in Nzaria's jaw.
"And you trust him?"
"With my life. An' I'm pretty sure he just saved yours, too."
She scowled again.
Nzaria didn't care about Koltus being a Worgen, though she supposed she should give the impression that she did, to affect the air of a proper Paladin.
Far more pressing to her was his status as a Shadowmage.
She supposed she shouldn't have been surprised- the Twilight's Hammer employed many Warlocks despite serving the True Gods, not the Burning Legion, and Aruviel had told her of how the Blood Elves had used the Light against the Naaru- to say nothing of herself.
Why, then, did it disturb her to find one wielding the power of the Shadow against its masters?
Because it was the power of the True Gods. It wasn't… supposed to be able to be wielded against them.
But that was a thought for another time. On a practical level, Koltus' expertise in Shadow magic was a danger to her cover. A true master of it- one who knew what to look for -might recognize her for what she was.
'Or it might prove an advantage. To evade the bloodhounds, hide in the slaughterhouse.'
"Are there any other secrets that I should be aware of?"
"None tha' I could tell you," Thoradin replied. "Of meself, you already know what there is to know, thanks to me father. And as to Lanya, she speaks little of her past even to me, or of the horrors she faced in the north."
"Fine," Nzaria spoke tersely, hefting her warhammer once more. "Let us go. There is still a gate in need of closing."
-----
The tunnel sloped downward, the air growing thicker, heavier, as they followed the trail of bodies deeper into the mine's depths. The flickering light of their torches cast long, jagged shadows against the tunnel walls, illuminating crude sigils carved into the ancient dwarven stonework- twisting runes of devotion and madness, glorifying the True Gods in raw, jagged strokes.
Not all the blood splattered across the stone had come from the cultists.
They found Koltus waiting for them some distance into the tunnel, leaning against the wall, polishing an Orc cultist's skull before stowing it into the pocket of his heavily-strained coat when he saw them approach.
"Still with us, eh?" He spoke with an irreverent grin that seemed at odds with his lupine features. "Cultist murder won out over working with an accursed practitioner of the dark arts?"
She said nothing to him, casting him a flat look.
"Well, in any case, we ought to get moving," he carried on without pause. "We should find Lanya and help her with the leader, it's not like her to take this long."
As if summoned by the words, something moved in the darkness ahead.
Nzaria's posture tensed, fingers tightening around her hammer's haft as a sleek, feline form melded from the shadows, emerging with the silent grace of a born predator.
A panther- saber-fanged, its coat a deep, midnight purple, its lithe form traced with silvery markings, swirling in eerie, glowing patterns that mirrored the tattoos of its elven counterpart.
Nzaria exhaled slowly, lowering her hammer slightly.
"Light damnit Lanya, don't do that!" Koltus said, scowling at her.
"It was an Ogre," the panther spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "Two-headed one."
As she stepped into the light, Nzaria could see that the panther's lips were stained red with blood.
"Then, all that remains is to close the Elemental Gate."
Thoradin exhaled sharply, adjusting his hammer against his shoulder. "Aye. Let's get this over with."
The air grew heavier as they moved deeper into the mine, the torchlight from the entrance fading behind them, swallowed by the oppressive darkness of the tunnels. The distant drip of water echoed through the passage, an irregular rhythm that contrasted with the steady clank of armor, the scuff of boots and hooves against stone, and the faint rustling of Koltus' coat as he padded along with them, eerily silent for something his size.
And the further down they went, the more Nzaria felt it- a pulsing, throbbing presence, like a heartbeat that wasn't hers, pulsating through the walls of rock around them.
"We are close," Thoradin said, beads of sweat running along his brow. "The Elements are… agitated."
Then, the tunnel widened into a cavern, and the temperature skyrocketed.
A pit had been carved into the cavern floor, a deep, ritualistic basin of blackened stone, and at its center, an edifice of dark metal loomed: a semicircular arch of elementium, its runed surface pulsing with violet light, as though the metal itself were alive.
And within the arch, a massive, swirling vortex of violet and blue energy, its surface shifting like oil over water, its edges straining violently against reality.
The air around the portal was raw, thick with static power, the very fabric of existence stretched thin around it, cracks of wild energy lashing outward as if the gate itself was trying to escape its own bindings.
Elementium spikes had been driven deep into the surrounding rock, their blackened surfaces seething with raw energy, warping the very earth around them, causing the stone to bubble and fracture, glowing dimly from within.
A dozen cultists stood guard over the portal: much like the dwarfs from earlier, these were no mere fanatics, but trained soldiers, and equipped to match, with dark plate armour and wicked halberds. Their leader was a robed Night Elf, elemental power washing off of him in waves.
Bodies littered the cavern floor, twisted and broken. Some wore the same dark plate as the living cultists, while others bore the hulking forms of ogres, their ashen skin marred by deep, gaping wounds. The telltale signs of battle were everywhere: scorched stone, fresh blood still pooling across the uneven floor, the remnants of a struggle that had ended only moments before.
Infighting.
Nzaria smirked.
But before she could formulate a plan, a voice shattered the heavy silence.
"INTRUDERS!" The nearest cultist, a wiry orc in jagged plate, raised his halberd and roared. "They come for the Gate!"
"Defend the ritual!" the leader called out, pointing a bony finger at the intruders. "The portal must not fall!"
"No mercy!" one of the cultists shouted. "No retreat! The Masters watch!"
Nzaria raised her hammer, but Lanya was faster. She sprang into action with feline grace, pouncing forward- and then, mid-air, her form began to twist and shift, her fur growing darker, her frame much bulkier.
The massive grizzly bear slammed into the nearest cultist, snapping his halberd like a twig beneath her momentum when he tried to raise it to defend himself, before the man was reduced to little more than a smear of gore on the stone beneath the bear's paws.
Another halberd was thrust into her side, but it was like a bee sting, only serving to piss her off, and the attacker's head was knocked off his shoulders in one swipe of her claws.
'Don't just stand there!'
Nzaria snapped into motion, her warhammer whistling through the air as she charged the nearest cultist.
The Twilight soldier, a heavily-armored human with a visored helmet and a jagged, rune-etched halberd, reacted fast, bringing his weapon up in a defensive stance. He had been trained to fight knights, soldiers, and warriors.
He had not been trained to fight her.
Nzaria didn't slow, slamming into him like a battering ram, her sheer momentum and strength sending the cultist stumbling backwards, his guard overpowered in an instant.
Nzaria's hammer swung in a brutal arc, colliding with the side of his helmet with bone-crushing force.
There was a sickening crunch, and the cultist crumpled to the ground, blood leaking from the ruined slit of his visor.
The cultist leader raised his hand, and a jagged line of spikes rose from the stone floor towards Lanya, but the druid reacted nigh-instantaneously, shifting from bear back to panther and springing out of the way.
Thoradin responded with a stream of flame, forcing the Earthbinder to summon a shield of rock to protect himself, before clapping his hands together, causing the protective shell to explode outward in a spray of deadly fragments. Nzaria raised her shield to protect her face while Lanya's skin rippled, turning into darkened bark that the shards found little purchase in.
But the attack had stolen the initiative. The remaining cultists advanced, their halberds held low, stepping forward with trained precision, leveraging their longer reach to keep them at bay.
The cultists moved in tandem, their halberds weaving a seamless barrier of steel, points held low and steady, their formation unyielding. Every opening Nzaria and Lanya tried to exploit was swiftly covered, another gleaming weapon thrusting forward to replace the last.
Lanya lashed out, her claws raking through the air, swiping at the advancing thicket of polearms- but even as she batted one aside, another was already stabbing toward her.
Nzaria pressed forward, hammer swinging in broad, brutal arcs, her shield raised to bash weapons out of her path, trying to break their line, to force a gap in the wall of blades. But the cultists fought like seasoned warriors, their movements tight, controlled, each step measured to protect the one beside them.
They were too disciplined, too skilled, too numerous to overcome with raw force.
As they fought, the cavern floor trembled beneath them, the stone groaning, twisting, shifting just enough to be felt, before suddenly jerking to a halt, like something was yanking it back into place.
Nzaria could feel the elemental energies radiating from the cultist leader and Thoradin, flowing into the stone and warring for control over it, but for the moment they seemed to be in deadlock.
Which left only one fighter free to act.
Nzaria felt what Koltus had been working while the rest of them had been fighting before she saw it, the eruption of shadowy energy behind her, a huge bolt of inky darkness arcing over her and Lanya's heads
It looked… beautiful. It called to her.
'Keep your eyes on the enemy!'
She jolted back into awareness just as the bolt crashed amidst the cultists, their cohesion falling apart in an instant. They screamed and clawed at their eyes, dropping their weapons and holding their heads.
Nzaria darted forward, but again Lanya was faster. Once more she pounced in her panther form, only to shift to bear form again mid-air, letting its greater weight hit home as she tore her way to the cultist leader. He tried to summon the earth to his aid, but Thoradin held fast to it, and before the night elf could try anything else a massive paw slapped him off his feet.
"Fools," he growled, propping his elbows against the stone floor in an effort to rise. "You are too-"
Lanya's jaws closed around his neck, before shaking him like a ragdoll. When she dropped him again, he didn't get up.
Nzaria followed in the druid's wake, finishing off the disoriented cultists one by one. When the last of them was dead, the cavern fell silent once more, save for the crackling of the Elemental Gate.
"Can you close the portal?" Nzaria asked, turning to Thoradin. "We have to assume that they've already sent a runner through, and reinforcements are on their way."
"I should be able to disrupt it," the dwarf mumbled, looking at the gateway. "I've never seen one of these before, but it is the same energies as I usually work with."
"Then hurry."
Thoradin raised his hands, mumbling words under his breath that were not meant for them, and Nzaria could feel the energies shifting through the cavern.
The portal trembled, its once seething vortex beginning to shudder and collapse inward, the violet and blue energies recoiling, their strength waning as the Elemental Gate buckled under its own unraveling power. The runes along the elementium frame flickered, their glow fading, the connection between this world and the next snapping thread by thread.
Just as it did so, however, Nzaria saw a dark shape forming within the shimmering kaleidoscope of the dying portal's surface. At first, it was nothing but a shifting shadow, a silhouette too large, too solid to be merely an aftershock of the collapsing magic. Then-
A clawed hand burst through.
Three massive, taloned fingers, each one as long as her forearm, grasped the edge of the portal, digging into the elementium surface for leverage before pulling something colossal through just as the gate collapsed behind it.
The figure that emerged was massive, bigger than any Ogre, easily twice the height of Nzaria's visage form, its head nearly touching the cavern ceiling.
Purple scales ran over its skin, and it had the fanged jaws and head of a dragon, albeit more stubby in its snout, with two curved horns rising behind it, but it was unmistakably humanoid, wingless with a pair of clawed legs and two three-digit hands, while a scaled tail trailed behind it for balance. The armour it wore was thick and heavy, overlapping plates of silvery metal moulded perfectly to its enormous frame, the mere fact that it could move under such weight speaking volumes of its strength.
Glowing, yellow reptilian eyes gazed balefully down at the three of them.
"What in Greymane's arsehairs is that?" Koltus asked, turning towards Nzaria.
"I… don't know."
"Twilight Drakonid…" Lanya whispered.
"You have done nothing but prolong the inevitable," the Drakonid spoke, the words falling from its scaled lips with the weight of an avalanche. "None of you will leave this place alive."
It took an instant for Nzaria to realize that the Drakonid had spoken in Draconic, not the common tongues of the mortals. The same magic that allowed dragons to take on mortal visages allowed them to understand and speak their languages, but this was the tongue she had been raised to speak.
'Do not react! A Draenei paladin would know nothing of the languages of dragons.'
Even so, the Drakonid's meaning was not exactly subtle, as it raised a two-sided glaive to point at the four of them.
With a furious roar, Lanya leapt at the creature, but a backhanded blow sent the druid hurtling through the air, her body slamming into the cavern wall with a bone-rattling crack. Dust and stone rained down from the impact, and the ground trembled beneath Nzaria's hooves.
Before she could react, the Drakonid's glaive whirled towards her.
The impact nearly drove her to her knees, the elementium blade sinking into her shield, its runed edge burning like a brand against the steel rim. For a moment she feared it might split in two, before the glaive's momentum was finally arrested.
With a metallic screech, the Drakonid ripped its weapon free, wrenching the blade out in a motion so powerful it sent Nzaria reeling backward.
Then, it kicked her.
The blow landed square in her chest, claws scraping across her armor, and Nzaria was sent sprawling, the world a blur of stone and firelight as she hit the ground hard, her shield clattering to the floor beside her.
But before the Drakonid could capitalize on its advantage, Koltus was on it.
The Worgen's howl tore through the cavern, echoing from the stone as he leapt onto the Drakonid's back, claws digging into the joints of its armor, trying tearing at the gaps, but the armour seemed nigh-seamless, his attacks finding little purchase.
In response the Drakonid snarled, thrashing violently, trying to shake him off, its glaive slashing wildly in an attempt to strike its unseen attacker.
Thoradin raised his hands from where he had pressed them against the ground, pulling a piece of rock with him that hovered between his splayed palms. The rock began to glow, turning red and molten with a matter of seconds, before the shaman thrust his hands at the Drakonid, sending the lava forward in a searing bolt.
It struck the creature in the chest, failing to penetrate its armour but striking with weight far beyond its size, sending the Drakonid stumbling.
Nzaria pushed herself to stand, propping herself up with her warhammer, but before she could rejoin the fight the Drakonid let out a snarl, reaching over its back to grasp Koltus by the leg before slamming the Worgen down into the cavern floor.
It raised its clawed foot to stomp his head and torso into mush, but before it could do so roots burst from the ground and the ceiling, wrapping around it like chains. From the corner of her eye Nzaria could see Lanya limping as she held her hands raised towards the Drakonid, green energies swirling in her palms.
Nzaria surged into motion, grasping her hammer with both hands as she made a running jump at the Drakonid, slamming her weapon into the silvery metal plate over its chest, still glowing hot from Thoradin's attack.
When the hammer struck home, there was a noise like a thunderous bell, and the plate cracked and shattered, pieces of the strange silvery metal flying everywhere.
"Catch!"
Nzaria barely turned in time to see Koltus, bloodied but grinning, grab a discarded halberd from one of the fallen cultists and hurl it toward her. Catching his meaning in an instant, she caught it from the air and thrust it into Drakonid's exposed hide, black blood spurting from the wound.
It bellowed with fury that shook the cavern, ripping through the roots and nearly catching Nzaria with its glaive, swinging furiously at her as she desperately threw herself to the side, trying to keep the distance.
"The armour is weakened by heat!" she shouted. "Thoradin!"
Another lava bolt struck the Drakonid in the shoulder just as it was about to reach Nzaria, staggering it. Lanya joined in, the cavern illuminated by the incascadent beam of light that erupted from her hands and struck the creature, heat wafting off it like she had harnessed the power of the sun itself.
The moment the assault on her slackened, Nzaria went back on the offensive, shattering the Drakonid's pauldron with one swing of her hammer, followed by Koltus leaping on it and sinking his claws deep into its flesh, biting out a mouthful of flesh from its shoulder muscle.
It whirled about in an attempt to dislodge the Worgen again, but he held fast, laughing like a madman, and while it was distracted Nzaria shattered more and more of its armour.
At last, it managed to ram Koltus against a wall, and the Worgen slumped down to the floor, but Nzaria stabbed it in the thigh with a dagger, forcing it to turn its attention onto her.
Then, she heard Koltus scream.
She could feel the Shadow magic rippling outward from him, harmlessly washing over her.
But it was not harmless to the Drakonid.
She saw its eyes widen, as just for an instant, it felt what it was like to be afraid.
Then, she brought her warhammer up, in between the Drakonid's legs.
It let out a sharp, high-pitched yelp, before Nzaria drove her hammer into its knee, buckling it underneath its weight and sending it crashing down on its other knee, which she smashed a moment later, causing the Drakonid to topple forward onto the cavern floor with a tremendous thud.
Then, she pulled out another dagger, stabbed it into the Drakonid's throat, and then sawed it back and forth to ensure the wound was mortal, even if the creature could somehow heal like true Twilight Dragons.
For a long moment she stood there, watching the Drakonid convulse on the floor, suffocating on its own blood, before finally falling still.
Then, a sharp bark of laughter shattered the silence.
"You are the most vicious bastard of a Paladin I've ever seen!" Koltus guffawed loudly, his clawed hands resting on his knees as he grinned in open amusement. "What the hell did the Twilight's Hammer do to piss you off so badly?"
Nzaria remained silent, her breath still coming heavy and measured, her hands slick with Drakonid blood.
This wasn't the first time her past with the cult had come up.
And she knew- if she didn't give them something now, they would only dig deeper.
The others were watching her.
She needed to say something.
Before she could second-guess herself, Nzaria pulled off her left gauntlet, revealing the angry burn scars covering her hand and creeping up her wrist, their raw, uneven texture catching the dim light.
"Like I said, I've been fighting them for a long time."
'The best lies are the ones that let the listener use their imagination to fill in the gaps, while discouraging further questioning.'
Koltus whistled, though whether in appreciation or sympathy, she wasn't sure. Thoradin's wince, however, was definitely of the latter, while Lanya's face remained as schooled as ever.
'Lanya is indifferent. Thoradin is sentimental. You can use that.'
"Well, you've certainly earned my gratitude a dozen times over," Thoradin said. "Even if some of the cultists still live, they won't be threatening Redmane Hold again."
"And our deal?"
Thoradin let out a huff, rubbing the back of his neck before grinning slightly.
"Aye, I'll make sure Father writes you a reference letter of such glowing praise that you could get into King Wrynn's personal guard if ye wanted to. Frankly I've half a mind to join you in heading to the Highlands, I've still got a score to settle with these hammer-worshipping freaks."
Koltus looked at Nzaria with a discerning eye. "Not had enough cultist blood to sate you?" He laughed. "Well, I can respect that. Might even join you two, got nowhere else to be."
"Don't think I've forgotten about you," Nzaria said, glowering at the Worgen. "How does a Shadowmage come to fight against the Twilight's Hammer?"
Koltus tilted his head slightly, his yellow eyes gleaming in the dim light of the cavern, but for once, the ever-present smirk on his face was absent.
"What is there to say?" he said after a moment, his voice uncharacteristically somber. "My kingdom fell, piece by piece. First to the Scourge, then to the Curse, and then to the Horde. The- I wasn't strong enough to protect it. So I turned to the powers that could."
'Careful. You need to affect the right air of outrage.'
She scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest, her tail flicking behind her.
"The same powers that are trying to destroy the world?"
"I suppose you think every Warlock worships the demons they summon, too? The Shadow is power- dark power, to be sure, but just power. I do not serve it any more than a Mage serves the Arcane."
"And you two approve of this?" Nzaria asked, turning towards Thoradin and Lanya.
"I never said I approved," the dwarf said slowly. "But Koltus is as good as me brother, since long before tha Greymane Wall went up, an' I'll not abandon him because of a couple of bad choices he's made. In the meanwhile, I'll pray to the Elements that he comes to his senses."
Koltus snorted, but said nothing.
Nzaria's eyes flicked towards Lanya, but the night elf was silent for a long moment, until the silence grew uncomfortable.
"He's not the worst thing that I've put up with."
"Love you too, Lanya."
The druid dusted herself off, and began the walk back up the tunnel.
Nzaria exhaled sharply through her nose, watching her go. She was still of two minds about this. Koltus was dangerous- not just because of what he was, but because of what he might know. A Shadowmage of his caliber might recognize her for what she truly was.
But then again…
If someone managed to sense the Shadowflame running through her own veins, its presence could just as easily be attributed to Koltus.
'And if you make a great show of deigning to accept his presence, he and Thoradin will be in your debt. That has value.'
Nzaria sighed.
"It seems that I am stuck with you, for now."
Koltus grinned, his sharp teeth glinting in the dim light. "I'll take that as a victory."
Nzaria snorted. "Call it what you want."
With that, she turned and followed after Lanya.
-----
The soft crackling of the campfire rose over the silence of the night, smoke drifting towards the moonless sky.
They had emerged from the mine to find dusk turned well into the night, and with Redmane Hold several hours away by foot, elected to camp for the night- after getting a safe distance from the still-smouldering ruins of the Twilight's Hammer encampment.
Nzaria sat on a fallen log, watching the sleeping forms of the other three arranged around the fire, their breaths steady, chests rising and falling regularly.
They had asked her which watch she wanted, and she had instinctively chosen the second, without thinking.
And that had been that. Lanya had taken the first one, and woken her when it was her turn.
And now she was here. Watching the others sleep.
The second watch was the ideal moment for a night-time ambush. Just after the day's excitement has faded and everyone slipped into sleep, but before anyone has had any real chance to recover their strength.
She had learned that well in the Highlands.
She watched the three mortals, gone to sleep without a care in the world. Such trust. Such faith.
Such… stupidity.
Did they really think that the Twilight's Hammer would balk at killing their own? That they could entrust their lives to her, render themselves helpless in her presence, after a day- less than a day?
Her fingers curled, and found the hilt of a dagger waiting for them.
She could kill them.
She should kill them.
Kill them now.
Do the whole world a service by ridding it of such unbearable naivete.
Her grip on the dagger tightened.
She rose softly to her feet, looming over the others.
'Don't do it.'
Her hand shook.
'What purpose would their deaths serve?'
Her throat felt dry.
'If you kill them, you are back to where you were this morning, no closer to reaching the Highlands. The Redmanes would have questions, you would be forced to abandon this identity.'
The daggerpoint wavered.
'You can kill them at any time.'
That was true.
She didn't have to- she could put it off.
'They serve the True Gods better alive.'
Yes.
It was all for the True Gods.
She threw the dagger away, the dark metal soon dissolving into a wisp of purple smoke.
Slowly, she sat down and continued her watch.
