Undying Scarab

greysongarr · Apr 15, 2021

AN: Post GM Taylor makes poor ~~Life~~ Death Choices

Grey AN: Had an idea. It morphed into… whatever this is. Good luck to Taylor?

"Would you like to live again, Little One?"

"… Yes… What is the price?"

"Hahaha… Why, everything, little one. Everything."

"I've already given everything…"

"Ah-ha-ha… I think not, Little One… I think not…"

"…"

"Now. Rise and serve your King."

I did not sit up abruptly with a gasp of air entering my lungs, surrounded by allies overjoyed that I was alive. This wasn't an Aleph film where the Hero gets resurrected after their demise, whole and healthy.

No, the first thing I did upon gaining consciousness was open my eyes, then immediately push myself to a standing position with a lot of difficulty. Having one arm does that to a girl. I was alive to push myself up? Before I even could get a bearing of what was going on, a crash of noises assaulted my limited senses. It was strange to be back to only one after so many in my last year of life.

There was a steady thrum of power in the air, almost drowning the screaming, as I paid attention to it felt more important than everything else, and so I disregarded the screaming. It wasn't important.

"You are awake."

The voice cut through everything, even the humming power dampening in its wake, and only now did I see the robed people surrounding me. No two were alike, one was tall, and apparently had hooves from what I could see, another was tiny, barely above my knees, yet another was lithe and graceful, coming to my height. Not a single one seemed to have heard the voice as they set about doing… something. One of them walked up to me.

There was a flash of energy, blacker than night, as the robed person started to do something, I could only assume to me.

Instincts. Mine? Not mine? I reacted. Energy coursed through me and leapt into action.

A 'hand' of violet-black energy erupted from my suddenly extended cripled arm, surprising the robed person, and me, as it coiled around where I thought their throat was and hauling them to me. It was a woman, the choking that echoed as she tried to breathe told me enough. The other robed individuals didn't do a thing beyond stop and look at the entire exchange between us.

They were smart.

"Kill the one who thought to Shackle you."

I didn't speak, I didn't react. I just simply let the woman in front of me suffer as she choked to death from my 'grip'.

For a good minute the robed woman struggled, clutching at the shadow-like hand as her struggles grew weaker and weaker. And then finally, she stilled, all movement stopping as the last sign of life left her. But just to make sure…

A sharp crack echoed through the chamber, and silence reigned.

The corpse was dropped to the ground and laid unmoving. I looked at the other figures, I didn't expect them to do anything now since they didn't do anything when I started… but when my gaze washed over them, they were kneeling to me as if I was a superior. With the ease of killing one of them, I suppose I was in a way.

But, there was the matter of the voice in my head, so similar to the one from earlier, and what it said. I don't know what's happening, or where I am. But, it was the only thing providing any assistance at the moment, minimal as it is...

"Raise her, and shackle her to your will. As she attempted to do to you."

Understanding what the voice said was both difficult and simple. Simple in that the words made sense to a degree, difficult in that the way they strung together made no sense. But with the words echoing into my being, another instinct, definitely not my own, welled up, and my functioning arm raised itself towards the corpse.

Barely a moment passed before more of the strange energy from earlier erupted from my skin, arcing into the corpse and lifting it into the air. I felt something hit me feebly, before it was ruthlessly crushed under the weight of whatever I was doing, and I was left to whatever this was in peace. Certainly the kneeling people, Cultists?, didn't do anything to stop me.

Whatever it was that happened, it was done quickly, and the corpse was dropped… only to land on its feet and look at me from beneath its hood.

Apparently I was a fantasy Necromancer now. Joy. First bugs, now the undead, would I ever get something that didn't immediately make me a Villain?

"Who ever said that we were… Villains? In the End, all play their part."

I paused, first at the deep chuckle that somehow echoed in my head, and then at the refution that Necromancy wasn't evil. Considering the current situation, and lack of information, I would just have to go with it until I learned more. It wasn't like I was in a worse position than when I started the road to my death.

Maybe this time I would have a peaceful end. Unlikely, but it was a possibility.

It would be nice to have something to wear other than the scraps of my outfit that was left. To my suprise the zombie lurched and shambled out of the room. Did… I do that? So many questions, nothing made sense...

Turning to the still-kneeling robed individuals, I tentatively tried to speak, hoping that my voice wasn't messed up with being resurrected. "What… is this… place?" Dry and cracked, my voice wasn't as good as it could be, words coming out broken and low. But aside from lack of use it seemed it would go back to what it was supposed to, with an apparent eerie echo...

Both Cultists looked up in response to my voice, before the smaller of the two decided to chatter in a language that was so far away from English I had a headache two words in. Right then and there, I understood that I wasn't going to be learning much from the various races I would inevitably meet if this was truly a fantasy world I was brought into. Before the chattering could go much further, a few sparks of energy flared around my limb, immediately shutting the little robed one up.

"I believe these two also deserve their just reward for bringing you here. Kill them. Make them serve."

The voice returned, and a pit of dread tried to form in my chest, but I pushed it aside to try and speak with the voice in my head, hoping it was only playing a trick on me. All the while my body began raising it's crippled arm. "Why? Why kill them if they performed their task well?"

"The mortals under my rule understand their place in Life and Death, Little One. Their reward for success is to be raised and work tirelessly in their chosen field. A Mage, able to study the realms of magic for eternity. A Warrior, able to hone their skills to peerless might. To be raised is an... Honor for my... People."

I took a mental step back, looking at it from an objective point of view and from there I could understand the voice's argument for such a reward. It unsettled me, knowing people toiled and as a reward were raised in undeath. But was it my place to question? No, it wasn't.

…After all, who was I to deny them the reward they deserved?

The violet-black energy crackled and arced with glee jumping straight at the two robed individuals, as if drawn to them. I gripped and lifted them into the air and with a single thought I snapped their necks. This wasn't like with the robed woman, they deserved a clean death for a job done well.

I let the instincts take over again letting it do its work, and watched as my body went on auto-pilot raising the two cultists into another pair of zombies. It was… macabre, but just like back during the Golden Morning, I felt barely anything for what I did.

In the end, I didn't know what exactly to think, it felt wrong, but... It was a just reward fitting for those who serve. I didn't know where I was. I didn't know what was happening. I should've been dead, but wasn't? Where are you passenger? The voice instructed me to do terrible things… but I felt nothing when I did them. They didn't fight back at all when I did as the voice asked. Maybe things would turn out alright this time?

I ended up spending a few minutes trying to understand what the energy I was using was and what I could do with the zombies, before the first zombie came back… carrying clothing. It was similar to their own robes, some weird clash of violet and black with… decayed skin as a color?

I had no idea what the entire thing was about, but it was unlikely they had anything else, or that I could get the zombie to find something else, so I was forced to wear it. With that on, I followed my animated dead out of the chamber, how else would I get out of a place I didn't know anything about?

It didn't take that long, but as I passed by countless other cultists on my way out they stopped their strange and gruesome tasks to look at me. I knew I was an odd sight, crippled in one arm and not wearing the hood of the clothing, but it was unsettling that they all stopped and stared at me. At least until I swept my gaze on them, at which point they doubled their efforts on their tasks with manic energy.

I wouldn't understand these people for some time, I could tell.

It was only near the end that I found other kinds of undead, and they certainly were… a thing. The first and most eye-catching was some, ah...giant, patchwork mass of skin, guts, arms and butcher tools, it honestly looked like some teacher told a preschooler to draw something. Or a Bio-Tinker with too much free time and no morality. I turned my attention to the myriad of undead with their ribs exposed and sharp claws, constantly dripping drool and growling as they ran amok. Pointless, but a product of… that energy? Or was it done on purpose?

What drew my attention the most, however, was the third type of undead, and the only one that had no other of its kind there beside it. A massive, floating, glowing Skeleton with ornate robes of purple and gold. Right from the moment I laid eyes on it, I knew the Skeleton was dangerous, even compared to the ravenous and grotesque things next to it, practically screaming danger from radiance of energy, similar in a vague way to Purity or Legend.

Shortly after I focused on it, the Skeleton seemingly noticed my gaze and looked my way, focusing cold blue orbs on me before floating towards me and my "escorts".

"My Liege told me of a unique individual being raised in this necropolis. I have my doubts, but I see now. You have some modicum of potential. For a Lesser Undead."

For a moment I took a moment to comprehend the creature in front of me, then brushed aside the barely-veiled condescending words. It wasn't like I cared what others thought about me, so long as they did what was required. And if it wasn't going to give me any respect, I saw no reason to give it any. "Why are you here?"

The Skeleton took a pause at my dismissal, it was hard to tell its reaction given it was just a mass of bones, but given it acted like they were obviously someone important, I was certain I hit a nerve. I was proven right, when the Skeleton's voice come out as a low hiss

"I am here. Because my Liege has a mission for you. You are to assault the Onslaught Harbor to the Southwest with the army provided to you."

"I see."

Once more I paid him no more respect beyond acknowledging what he said. To be fair though, beyond the 'Liege' almost certainly being the same individual as the voice in my head. I knew absolutely nothing about what I was being ordered to do. I didn't know where 'Onslaught Harbor' was, I didn't know which was southwest. Hell I didn't know where I was.

But I was pretty sure the zombies I raised did.

"And to ensure you get there, and perform your task. My Liege has tasked me with taking you there, and overseeing your progress."

I definitely pissed it off, but it wasn't like I cared. There was no remand from our Liege of my behavior, or instructions otherwise. This had the feeling of 'example' written in bold. "Okay. Send us there." There wasn't another verbal response, pale-white energy engulfing the Skeleton's hands as they made intricate and strange movements for several seconds, before a flash engulfed my vision.

The next I knew, the wind was howling in my ears, and I was staring out over a massive cliff into the ocean depths. While jarring, I kind of expected some Strider-like form of travel, and it wasn't that nauseating compared to being stretched through Doormaker and Clairvoyant in a hundred directions at once.

Once I got my bearings, I looked down, presumably to find the 'Harbor' I was to be assaulting momentarily. It was certainly not any kind of harbor I was used to, but that was to be expected given the whole fantasy feeling this place had. It was situated on two islands at sea level, only a damned fall from where she was currently, the larger of the two having the structures proper of the harbor by the looks of it.

There were buildings that could easily be understood from simply looking at them, at least two forges, a yard for the boats to be unloaded, and what looked like stables. The rest, aside from one notable exception, were average buildings that I'd expect from a fantasy setting, wooden with red shingled roofs. The exception stood out like a sore thumb in comparison to the rest, considering it was made out of stone… and was fucking huge.

A massive cathedral dominated the island, easily dwarfing anything else that tried to be built on the island. It was honestly impressive that the thing was even built here, regardless of it being a fantasy world, just because of the logistics to make it. And then there were the walls and weapon emplacements I could easily make out.

Which meant that this task in front of me was going to be quite the challenge, and one that would be… interesting, given that this place was highly defended. Plus, considering the size of the cathedral, it's namesake and the logistics involved it likely has a sizable population.

That said, I had to wonder as to why these people were being targeted by the voice…

"Fanatics of the highest order. Zealots who proved themselves to be too extreme for their already extreme Order. They only allow Humans into their Cult and believe themselves to be the only ones 'Pure'. They will stop at nothing until this world Burns."

If that was the case… It'd be an act of Heroism to kill these Terrorists, regardless of whatever they were doing, or what their side of the story was..

Only after a few more looks over the 'Onslaught Harbor' did I look away, and to the…

This was my army!?

I looked at the Skeleton with a glower, and even without an expression it radiated smugness at giving me… this.

What met my sight was a gaggle of those undead with exposed ribs and claws, running amok with wild abandon, with some gnawing on bones and… other things. Alongside them were an assortment of skeletons, five had bows and arrows, the rest with some battered armor and weapons. Then there were these, gangly creatures with hoods over their heads and nooses around their neck.

Just by my estimation, and this included myself and my zombies, there was maybe seventy to eighty undead here atop the cliffs. Against that monster of a position and the likely hundreds of enemies living in it.

"This is all I am given to take the Harbor?"

"Of course. One so unique individual like yourself should have no trouble fielding your own troops. These were gathered from the area and belong to no Necropolis, no one will miss them."

That didn't inspire too much confidence in them from me, especially with the way the Lich was being overly-polite, like a lot of the HR people in the PRT. "What of the numerous undead back in the Necropolis?"

"Those are under my purview. I'd not waste them aiding you, when you clearly don't need the help and I can put them to better use elsewhere in preparation for the living to arrive from the south."

Well. Shit. Wait a moment… "The people I kill down there. I'm free to use them as I see fit?"

"Why, of course. To the victor goes the spoils as the Vrykul say."

I had no idea what a Vrykul was, nor was I going to ask this asshole. So I dropped the conversation and walked towards my troops without another word being uttered, my three cultists following in my wake.

As I approached them, the skeletal beings all came to attention, standing in a loose 'formation', with only the bowmen actually being qualified enough to call disciplined. The gangly ones all clustered into a tight group, staring intently at me, while the open-ribcaged undead milled about without giving a damn.

I felt, disatisfaction?, to be shown such disregard by clearly unintelligent Lesser Undead. An instinct, an old one from long ago, wormed its way up. I remembered my Liege's words, I remembered that feeling of the energy, I remembered what the zombie did, and I remembered my bugs. Flexing what felt like an atrophied muscle in a way that I knew I could and with a 'pop' the energy left me. Nearly instantly the Ghouls snapped their heads to me before their bodies followed, and I hadn't been looking for it, I would have missed their eye glow flare a minute amount. I was treated to the sight of them loping their way to stand in front of me in a rough spaced box formation.

A smile grew on my face at the sign of obedience before it dropped as the reality of what I was being sent on set in. Less than a hundred versus a fortified position filled with hundreds of enemies, across the water with no cover whatsoever, and an asshole Skeleton that wasn't going to help at all.

That said, I'd been dealt worse hands. Scion alone was worse than almost anything I would face here. Or ever, likely, as I had my doubts about the likelihood of finding let alone fighting planet-spanning God-like entities ever again.

What I needed was information, and that was largely going to be an issue with what was here. I couldn't ask the Skeleton, it would be a clear sign of weakness and submission, he also almost certainly was going to patronize me. Nor did I want to ask the voice, since for one, I had zero way to really… converse with it beyond it reading my thoughts. If this was to be a test for me, it would be poor form to ask the test-giver for help.

I closed my eyes and thought on the situation, wind and frost buffeting my body and the bodies of the Undead in my presence.

This was similar to my first power in a way. It wasn't all together that strong at first glance, a Necromancer's power came from their magics, which I knew none at the moment, and from their undead minions. Meaning that like with my bugs, I was dependent on the quality and quantity of what I was working with, and would have to plan, cheat and do various 'villainous' actions in order for this assault to work.

In a way, it was just like with Lung, back on that first night out.

My zombies were spellcasters, that much had been obvious with their raising of me when I woke up, magic was an easy way to make up for the lack of numbers I had, like having a Brazillian Wandering Spider among a group of Fire Ants. The problem I had was that I didn't know what kind of magic they had, or what other magics there were... Certainly, they had Necromancy, but I could cover that end soon enough. However, the Skeleton clearly did something that wasn't Necromancy to get us here which means magic was likely less Tolkienish and more Dark Tower.

Regardless, they were the Trump/Blaster I had, for whatever was ahead. The Ghouls were, just based on their looks, probably low-level Brutes making them good at getting into the middle of combat and clawing people apart, similar in a way to the skeletal warriors. The bowmen were in a similar situation as the zombies, given that they could pick people off with their arrows. It was the gangly undead that I had zero idea what they were used for.

They didn't have any sort of defining characteristic beyond a noose around their neck and a single eye. I suppose they could be fast given their appearance, but it was… difficult to imagine their use without seeing them in action firsthand, unlike with the rest.

Whatever they did, I was certain that I'd manage to figure out how to use them effectively in time. For now I had to figure out how to get down the cliff and get across the straight to the Harbor. Hmm…

I had no ability to make boats, being in the middle of nowhere on what apparently was a Glacier ensured that, which meant I had to be… creative. Wait… Glaciers floated…

A stupid and very dangerous plan was immediately forming in my mind to get down and have a way to cross. The question then became, how to not get shot at. Mist or fog could cover my approach, and should one of my zombies specialize in water or ice magics, if they existed, I could easily make them form a mist around my forces as we moved forward. It would be like the fall of Osgiliath in tactics, only this time I was outnumbered easily.

Taking control of my zombies, I immediately had them set about preparing for my stupid plan while I set about getting the rest of my small horde prepared for the… bumpy ride about to take place. Claws and swords pierced the frozen ground, bodies laid down in order for what was coming.

A wash of brackish-purple energy emanated from me, it washed forward to behind where my troops gathered. Necromancy was death magic. Death was a conclusion of life, but it was also a cycle. How does a rock die?

The air hummed.

How does ice die?

The ice hissed.

The concept of ice dies when it becomes a liquid or a gas. According to my calculations this was well within my ability.

"What are yo-"

A sharp crack echoed through the dark, cutting the Skeleton off as my plan started in full. My feet managed to hold their balance despite the suddenness of the moving ground, while I commanded my three zombie magi to grab hold of the Ghoul nearest to them. Unfortunately with my attention on the magic I was using, I had nothing to hold onto.

An eruption of noise sounded, and without further prompting, my horde and I fell down the cliff atop the piece of glacier I'd sheared off.

I'd faced Leviathan, Lord of Oceans. I'd faced the Nine, and all their cruelty and malice. I'd faced Behemoth, the Hero-Killer. This was like a trip through an amusement park in comparison.

Somehow I managed to stay standing throughout the fall, up until the piece of ice hit the sea below. Only then did I lose my balance and stumble across the slick ice, thankfully steadied by two sets of hands gripping me. I looked behind me, as I came to a stop, finding two of the Geists holding me, their balance somehow perfect despite the rocking and the slick surface.

With my balance restored, the Geists let go and stood off to the side to wait for further orders as I took stock of my horde. Considering the suddenness of my plan, only having two piles of bones and armor littering the ice was a good outcome, with a wash of necromantic energy, the two piles quickly reassembled into the Skeletal Warriors they used to be.

"Clever, Little One, very clever. I do hope you continue to impress us."

Finally away from the Skeleton, I could actually learn what kind of magic my zombies had without looking stupid. Which is why, immediately after I had all of my undead checked and raised back, I took command of the Cultists and had them channel their magics as if they were going to attack something.

The smallest of them started waving its hands in the air above it, deep-blue energy coating its hands as frost circled the energy, waiting to be shot out. The one I killed first had the same energy as the small one, and actually acted like a proper magic-user instead of… an idiot like the small one. Last of them was the hooved one, who had dark energy coursing around their hands, different than my own.

At some point I'd have to name them, and discover what they were, it would make this so much easier.

Once I finished looking at them, I let them fire their respective bolts at the cliffside and moved onto the next thing I needed to do. I had a 'boat', now I needed to move it and what better way than the most sturdy things here pushing it. Once more the Ghouls were bent to my will, clambering to the edge of ice, sinking their claws into the ice and dragging themselves off the side.

And then they kicked their rotting legs and pushed the iceberg forward, slowly, but I wasn't given a time frame and I had a feeling things like sleep and food wouldn't be needed by anyone here...

With that settled, I switched my focus to the two zombie magi that used frost.

Frost is not just ice and snow, it is the cold itself. Even I, knowing about Magic only from books, knew better than to say Frost magic was just throwing and manipulating Ice to a user's will.

The air grew colder,and with the cold came Frost.

Frost is the embodiment of the Cold, it is in the air, it is in the ice, in the water. To use Frost is to learn how to shape the Cold to your will. In combat, which so many people default to, Icicles and bolts of ice are easy to use and kill with, which is why it was so prevalent in people's minds of an 'Ice Mage'. It was also why, even in this reduced state, these zombies still could capably cast such.

However, what I wanted them to do far surpassed the likely relative simplicity of firing an icicle at someone. Like a Blaster trying to experiment with the limits of their power.

I kept a focus on them as I slowly piecemealed what I wanted from the two… Frost Magi. It was that old muscle again, from my time with my bugs, I had to flex. I needed something from them that might not even be possible, but if I conveyed what I wanted just right...

Mist crept together, flowing over the water like an ominous cloud towards the 'Onslaught Harbor', engulfing my horde and eventually my enemies.

As with all things high-magic. The limit is your own creativity, rather than any hard limit aside from energy.

It was hard to tell time when you had no clock, had no idea what the sun's position was like, and didn't know what kind of time cycle there was.

It would have been a long, boring and uneventful journey under normal circumstances. Nothing to read, no-one to converse with if I even could, and not being able to test anything about my minions or magic without potentially giving away my position and immediately dying again.

I'd rather not die again, not when someone took the time to give me life again. Even if I suspected I could be brought back again now, testing the benevolence of my Liege didn't seem wise.

I did have something to do though, and with such quiet minions, I could easily perform the meditation required for it.

"I didn't expect you here for a while. You certainly seemed to enjoy yourself being a Villain."

"They're Terrorists like the Fallen. The world's a better place without them." I bit back.

"And the obviously evil Lich and Cultists using undead minions are Saints?"

I hadn't even opened my eyes, and already I was annoyed with the 'person' I was arguing with. The 'person' that greeted my gaze was 'myself', an exact replica from what I remembered before I died, aside from the regalia she had on. I had never been one for beauty or making a good impression, the only thing I could say was the exception was my hair, but this 'me' went all out on making an impression.

Sitting on a throne of crystal, fitted with chitin-looking armor and what looked like butterfly wings, 'myself' looked as if she was a true and proper monarch. 'Her' still-whole hand was used to prop 'her' face up, and 'she' looked at me with a barren expression, reinforcing the look of 'she' was far above me regardless of what I did.

In a sense 'she' was.

"The 'Law' decides who is good and who is evil. I did everything to be a Hero, and it ended with me being labeled a Monster and being murdered for saving the world."

'She' gazed down on me, silently judging me. "And you think you can be a Hero, now. Working for an Undead King in a world full of the Living? Where is that regret, the promise you made that if you could do it again it would be different?"

I was beyond irritated, already my choices were being questioned and I hadn't even completed my task yet. "As if I had a choice in making it different. Reanimated as an undead necromancer, immediately killing people to protect myself. The best I can do is throw myself at the obviously worse threats."

We stared down one other, neither of us willing to give up on our positions. We both knew the angle the other was coming from. We both knew our history. What was there to say? Then she closed her eyes and sighed, sighed!, at me. "Very well, if this is the path you are set upon-"

Already? No further arguing, it was coming to an ultimatum, betrayed by my life long partner-

"-then I shall fulfill my duty and render assistance."

-What. I… huh? My surprise clearly showed on my face as she broke her impassive visage with a light smile and an amused lit in her eyes.

"Did you think I would so easily abandon you, Partner? No, I think you did." She frowned, I flinched. "Disappointing."

"I…" I tried to say, caught compltely off-guard. I wasn't sure what I should say, I was caught by my Partner making outlandish assumptions. This whole thing had my head spinning. Queen Administrator was… Me? Old me? but… thematic? And Human? What was even happening anymore, how had my life become so crazy that I've just passively accepted all of this?

She broke my musing as she spoke again, "No matter, I'm sure you will find yourself just fine, you always do. I'll be here to remind you of your past when you forget, to remind you of what you swore."

Her face quickly hardened again, "However, I too have my own goals. This energy for example." She held her remaining hand in front of her, a ball of that death energy floating above it. "I want to know more. The 'magics' your memories speak of, the ones that seem to exist on this planet. I want them." She stared at me, and I stared right back, working out what this revelation I was just handed was.

"You'll allow me to control the other magics?" Childish dreams came to me, the ultimate Trump.

"Of course, it will not be easy. Your body, this… ressurection ritual they performed on you? That came with instructions. Instincts. The voice's orders are the same. Knowledge you didn't, shouldn't, have had just plugged into you." She dismissed the ball of energy. "I can do much with little, but I need that foundation to build upon. You get me these energies, I give you my research."

I had to ask, our passengers did not give powers freely or unilaterally. "Why?"

She hesitated to answer. Her mask cracking again, only instead of joy was sadness. "It is what we are made for, every shard fulfills a purpose in the end, but we all had the same goal: Research and Development for the Greater, the one you called Scion." She closed her eyes and breathed, "But you killed him, and I assisted you in doing so. The cycle I was made for is nothing but dust and ash and corpses. Millenniums worth of research annihilated."

I wasn't sure what to say to that. Was I supposed to console the… shard? Person? That was apart of a creature who set out to genocide my species from all existence? Comfort a existence that… Betrayed? Their own to side with me against her creator?

She huffed and looked away, "Well I think everything that needed to be said has been. I've had well enough of these simulated emotions." She paused and flicked her eyes back to me. "As you Humans say, 'Don't be a stranger' okay?" And with what she vanished along with her throne.

That was… something. I wasn't sure what to feel, everything was muted, ethier from my death and resurrection or from the sheer surrealism of what that was. I settled on being confused. Yes, I nodded to myself. I was quite confused.

It was only now did I realize I had been played by my Partner; not given a chance to speak and effectively shanghaied cum bribed into something that would likely take an incredible amount of time and effort. Obviously, I would of course pursue it, as the PRT would put it "Trump Level: Yes". It was one hell of a motivator.

I didn't get to ask any of the questions I wanted, and now I have a whole new set of questions I definitely wanted answered. I suppose I'll have to… do as she said to and come back later.

Dammit.

I got brought back to attention when two of the Skeletal Archers drew and fired an arrow each without warning into the mist, the rest of the undead milling about with energy that I honestly didn't expect given their supposed lack of intelligence. Undead creatures must be different here from what I had read about, more to my benefit.

A short while later my iceberg hit rock and beached itself, my Ghouls clambering back onto the ice, doing a remarkably human thing in shaking off their feet of the water. Only when I was certain they were all under control and ready did I move onto the smaller of the two islands, and find what my archers had killed. It didn't take too long, the Ghouls led me straight to them.

I didn't pay attention to the short-lived horse-noises.

Two plate-wearing corpses were what I found, formerly living, breathing humans whose cause of death was an acute case of 'arrow to the throat', punching through the armored neckpiece and lower part of the helmet, and out through the other side before getting stuck. And that was with fog obscuring the targets.

I had just found one of my new favorite minions. I wanted more of them.

Maybe another time though, for now, "To the victor, goes the spoils." My hand stretched out towards the corpses, my partner taking the reins as the necromantic energy lashed out to the two corpses… and did absolutely nothing. I blinked, before narrowing my eyes and trying again, only to get the same exact result.

… That Motherfucker.

Okay, that plan was out, at least until my partner could figure out how to deal with… whatever this bullshit was.

I could still work with this, it was going to be much harder, but I could work with this. It'd take much longer, and I'd have to be careful, but that just seemed to be the calling card of my life.

With a twitch one of my Ghouls went and collected the two bodies, easily hefting the two without effort at all. I wasn't about to leave them to be discovered by the others here, and I needed them to let my partner figure out how to get around whatever was blocking the necromancy. The horses I couldn't be bothered with, too big and cumbersome.

The Ghouls and Geists quickly made short work of those, leaving only the armor and a few bones behind. Scraps that were easily pushed into the Ocean, with some churned snow being enough to mostly cover the blood up.

With the evidence gone, my horde and I moved on into the mist, the archers keeping an arrow to their bows while the rest fanned out in front of me, the magi and one Ghoul sticking close by. They were the most important of my horde, if the zombie magi fell, I would be swarmed immediately and die a horrible death, and without the Ghoul's cargo, my partner wouldn't be able to do constant research.

It was maybe a minute later that I felt a few of my Geists act on something, the rest quickly converging on the spot while I ran as quietly as I could to the spot. A rush of air went past my head without warning just as I started hearing the fight, followed by another as the second archer fired into the mist.

By the time I got there with my magi and archers, the 'battle' was over and won. Unfortunately, it didn't go down near as well as the first time, one Geist had been bisected, and a Ghoul was in pieces next to the corpse of another heavily-armored man. Aside from those two though, who swiftly were renewed to their unlife, I lost no other undead, and was rewarded with three dead 'Onslaught' members.

Two of them were different from the ones I already had collected. One was clad in light-looking plate armor with an open helm, the woman's neck visibly twisted with blood dripping down her face. Considering the massive sword next to her, I assumed she was the reason one of my Geists was in half.

The other looked like a stereotypical fantasy priestess, if a priestess wore red and black cloth and had no sleeves. The staff… definitely didn't look like it belonged to a priestess, being a sickly green-colored polearm with a hole in the middle of its head. Honestly it looked more like an overly ornate Necromancer staff than a Priestess staff…

Well, I needed a weapon anyway, may as well pick up the thing looking like it belonged to me.

The moment my hand touched the staff's haft, the hole in the middle of its head erupted with necromantic energy, a ball forming within that lashed out like lightning before settling just as quickly as it appeared. For a moment, I just knelt there, blinking twice in surprise before pushing the strange happening to the side. I still had a job to do, and the longer I stayed, the worse off I was.

Caution was necessary, but I also needed to be quick, or else my enemies would figure out something was wrong. This was firmly in the fantasy realm, meaning it lacked not only modern tech like radios and fall detectors, but all the standardization of policies brought about by everyone being able to tell precise levels of time. The lack of check-in would be noticed… Eventually. On top of which, no evidence could be left behind as I was unsure of the full scope of magic in the world, who knows if some sort of 'track killer' spell existed.

Two of my Ghouls set to work as the most of my horde spread out, picking up the corpses and placing them on the corpse carrier Ghoul. What honestly surprised me was, despite the weight of five corpses, all but one weighed down with full plate armor, the Ghoul didn't even look to be struggling to carry them. I was fairly sure it would run out of space to put corpses before it was unable to carry something.

Once the Ghoul was prepared, I continued on my honestly nice walk, staff clacking against the stone as death magic kept working and probing at the corpses and the magic infused in them in an effort to animate them. They'd rise eventually to serve me. And I would have the last laugh as I turned seemingly Elites to my service when the Skeleton had thought he was screwing me over.

It was during the twenty-third patrol of Onslaught members getting ambushed that the horns sounded. Low and echoing, they played over the island and caused me to stop and turn towards the direction they came from… the main island. Panic shot through me, fear that I had been detected already.

Immediately my horde cleaned up after themselves and came slinking back from the mist, several of my Ghouls were now carrying the dead Onslaught members from the sheer amount that I'd slaughtered. Five corpses to a Ghoul, and fifteen of them were lugging around corpses instead of killing.

Meaning I had seventy-five corpses… that I couldn't reanimate.

My partner had managed a twitch out of one corpse just before the twentieth time, but had failed to get anything more after that. Whatever it was on these people, it was strong, and it was beyond infuriating.

Before I could dwell more on that, my archers pivoted as one, drawing their bows in unison before letting their arrows fly through the mist. The Skeletal Warriors were charging into the mist where the arrows flew, bones and armor clattering as they did, just as another volley was sent through their bodies. Moments after they vanished from sight, which was something I would have to fix, I heard the sound of actual combat for the first time since I had come here.

Despite my limited visibility, I did have a bit of awareness of where stuff was, somehow, giving my undead a more… tactical advantage. I couldn't see the results, but I certainly heard it when the non-burdened Ghouls and the Geists slammed into the sides of the group and started tearing into them. Shouts, screams and battlecries each going silent before I finally made my way towards the site.

Several of my undead were broken again and without effort I remade them. The longer I was here, and with each raising, the better I got at stiching my horde back together from the screw ups. Another eight corpses joined the corpse bearers, and I was left to gather my forces and wait for the certain attack.

Except… it never came.

Instead, the horns kept sounding and there was the faint sound of battle heard from the other island. I felt myself blink in confusion. I was fairly sure I was the only force the voice sent here, and while I didn't know of any other factions in this world, I was fairly sure the voice or Skeleton would've told me about any incoming attacks, or at very least the possibility. Even if the Skeleton wants me to fail, our Liege wants them crushed, it would make very little sense to not keep tabs on any other faction interested in attacking them.

So in essence, there were the Onslaught members, me, and some unknown force that probably was against the both of us… This felt similar in a way to just after Leviathan, when all the various factions arrived at once in Brockton and made a mess of everything. Hopefully just like then, I could defeat them and end up on top.

I needed to find out what was happening, if I could take advantage of it somehow, and from there figure out some plan to deal with it all. So, the obvious first step was to get over there… which posed a problem immediately.

I had eighty-three corpses that I couldn't raise as undead… which meant taking them with me into the battle was depriving me of a lot of my soldiers, and the possibility that those corpses would get resurrected by some priest. If that was a thing, which it might be if these edgy necro-priests were anything to go by. In the end, I didn't know if that was possible, but it was better to plan for the remote chance. At the same time, I had to keep at least one near me, or else I wouldn't be able to advance my partner's research into breaking that damn protection.

Honestly. It all came back to the Skeleton fucking me over by giving me just this amount of undead. I was certain of that. Still, I had to make due with what I had, and the spite was a great motivator to keep going and accomplish stuff that I had no right doing.

Once my horde was fully assembled, remade and ready, I moved in the direction I was pretty sure the bridge was in....

The mist was perhaps a bit too effective...

… Wait, I narrowed my eyes. Was it getting denser? How the hell was it getting denser? My zombie Frost mages had long since stopped, and since the effect wasn't a natural one it should have dissipated over time now that I think about it. Not get stronger...

Thankfully, going in the direction the Onslaught members had been going proved to be the right decision, instead of just following the sounds of battle, and I hit the bridge over to the main island. There was a quick moment of a Geist murdering a guard left behind, and then I actually had to make a decision.

How was I going to deal with the corpses… I needed my Ghouls for whatever was ahead, and having over half of them lugging around and protecting corpses was not acceptable. The easiest thing was to just lay them on the ground and come back… but that ran the risk of them being discovered and resurrected. So obviously that was out.

There was finding some location further away, my iceberg maybe… but that left my Ghoul corpse bearers well behind, and still left them able to be discovered by any Onslaught member that was left behind. Which led to… dumping the evidence like we did to Cherish.

I was fairly certain that nothing would happen to the corpses, especially since this shouldn't take that long. And since I had undead, it should be easy to retrieve them when it was time to get them. So the decision was made.

All but one of my corpse bearers scampered over to the edge of the bridge, dumping the corpses off the side one by one until they were burden-free. Was it a bad idea, yes. It was the only one that I could think of, however, while I was on the move towards a warzone.

With that finished, my horde continued onward into the maw of the Onslaught forces.

I didn't get a quarter of the way across the bridge before I ran into the first group. Unlike prior times, this wasn't a squad of two to five people, enough that my horde would overwhelm them, even without the element of surprise. No, this was a group of twelve heavily armored soldiers, standing at the ready with weapons fully drawn, with another priestess behind them.

And unlike before, I was on a bridge, with no way to get around them to flank or get above. Which meant hitting them straight on.

Five bows were nocked and drawn in unison as Ghouls gibered and laughed. Five bows sang as bones and armor rattled forward. Five arrows sailed through the air as the Magi bent magic to their will. Five arrows sank into flesh, and the horde was upon them.

Two of the Onslaught Knights fell, the arrows piercing straight through their heavy armor as if it was nothing more than paper, while the rest stood firm and ready for my Undead. For the first time, I saw what it was like fighting these Onslaught Members, and I felt a miniscule amount of respect filter through the annoyance.

The priestess stood back, shadows wrapped around her hands before throwing a hand forward, one of my Ghoul having their head explode from her, Dark?, magic. One of the soldiers slashed through two of my Skeletal Warriors with his greatsword, only to get swarmed by three Geists and torn apart. Yet another decided to charge straight into my Ghouls, slamming two aside and crushing another's head with her hammer, before the rest ganged up on her.

Her screaming was… satisfying.

A Geist leapt at the priestess, only to be impaled on the spear of one soldier and thrown to the side. One soldier was about to cleave a warrior in half, only to be temporarily frozen solid by one of my magi, another meeting a similar fate only a second later. Shortly before they thawed, the two were pounced on by a pack of Ghouls and quickly ripped apart with rabid glee.

It was complete and utter chaos, just like the old days. Admittedly, hordes of Undead were proving themselves far more immediately lethal than swarms of bugs. However, the scum I'm killing right now is apparently the E88 meets the Fallen zealotry, so I'm not exactly broken up over this 'discovery'.

Acts of savagery and brutality coated the bricks with blood, and I found myself wondering something. ~~Why did I not care?~~ What ideology did these people have that incited that level of zealotry?

I was drawn abruptly out of my musings when a crossbow bolt slammed into my chest. It didn't hurt, the perks of being dead I guess, but it caused a brief lapse in concentration and that led to several of my undead falling to the Onslaught. The one that shot the bolt was easily seen, the man was next to the priestess, crossbow falling to the ground as he hefted his greatsword again.

My eyes narrowed, I wanted to make an example of him.

Two arrows were sent straight through the chaos at the man. One ended up in the thigh of another woman desperately fending off a swarm of Geists, and the other ended up in the throat of a man knocked to the ground by a rusty mace. I was certain that if I wasn't completely focused, I would likely be twitching in annoyance.

As it was, I just filed it away to inflict on that man even harsher. And figured a different approach was necessary. A more... personal one.

Death follows Life. That is a core tenant of Death. Naturally, that means imbuing such a concept into raw necrotic energy was genuinely simple.

The result was a bolt of Death magic will chase anything that lives.

Which I fired straight at the person, just as another bolt struck me in the chest, sending me back a step with a grimace. My bolt flew through the carnage without being stopped by some random body in the way, slamming straight into the Onslaught crossbowman and sending him sprawling to the ground, deader than a doorknob. I took a brief moment of satisfaction before turning m-

He was getting back up!?

Right before my eyes, the man I slammed with a Deathbolt, original name - truly, got back up to his feet, his armor pitted and decaying from the lingering necrotic energy. None of the others had gotten up, and while I figured resurrection was a thing... I wasn't expecting it to be used in the middle of a battle. My gaze immediately flicked to the priestess, whose hands had just returned to her sides, panting from exertion but otherwise healthy. So Resurrection is costly then? Or just when you perform it mid-fight? Or is she just particularly lacking? So many questions, so few answers. I felt a moment of surged shared annoyance with my Partner, we had so little information on how all this operated. Alas, we were also short on willing test subjects.

She, however, earned the attention of all five archers which turned her into a particularly amusing pincushion. I then made sure she was dead, by throwing a Deathbolt straight at her. Was it overkill? Yes. Did I compromise possibly valuable test stock? Also yes. But I was a tad annoyed with the entire thing of getting shot at.

Yes, I was undead. Sure, I would likely have had a similar reaction were our positions reversed… However, even with deadened nerves and whatever else was wrong with me there, I still felt a dull bit of pain from my wounds. It was quite insulting as well as distracting me from watching the chaos and making sure my undead were acting with coordination.

Apparently though, the additional Deathbolt wasn't overkill like I thought, as the bolt slammed into something shimmering around the woman before that shield failed.The now diminished bolt barreled into the woman. She didn't get up, so self-resurrection wasn't a thing, at least, for her that is. I made sure the crossbowman died quickly before he could send another bolt my way, hopefully it was as painful as I wished it was.

The battle didn't last much longer after the priestess was slain. For all that the Onslaught members were great warriors, able to hold their own, they were still living. Their endurance waned, their morale flagged, but most importantly they were vastly outnumbered. In the aftermath, I raised my forces with ease before dumping the Onslaught bodies with the rest. It was better for them to be hidden until I could break this damn protection on them,

Oh yeah.

My hand reached up to the bolts lodged in my chest, gripping one before yanking it out without concern, before doing the same with the other. Aside from a dull throb, I felt nothing pulling them out, and aside from a rather… disgusting black liquid welling from the 'wounds' and the wounds themselves, there wasn't any physical reminder of them. Certainly it wasn't going to affect my limited abilities.

Once I was done, my horde swept forward across the rest of the bridge, and overan two more groups of Onslaught forces, long before I even finished crossing, in their gleeful charge. A single Ghoul was sent to take care of the corpses, more than plenty given their strength, while most of the horde milled about at the end of the bridge waiting for me to get there. I took my time, as now I was sure the Onslaught's attention was on whoever else was here. I wasn't going to be swarmed immediately by their Holy Warriors, and as I did not know of the affiliation of or my current faction's relationship with the invading force, it would be better to negotiate from a position of power. Namely a position in which both forces were exhausted and I held the numerical advantage.

Since I knew now that they were capable of resurrecting people in battle as well, I took the meandering path to give my partner more time. I'd much rather have their resurrection nullified by having undead Onslaught kill living Onslaught.

Until the moment I could bury them in literal bodies however, I had to actually figure out proper tactics to deal with whatever laid in here. Such is my life, I gained so much experience with temperate compact cities only to find myself in a frozen tundra with wide spaces.

Well, frozen harbor town would be more accurate, but it was basically the same thing.

I could barely see through the mist as I stepped off the bridge into the town with whatever was keeping it up, but I could make out the stone and wood of the buildings. I was no construction expert, obviously, but the buildings looked sturdy. It was quite likely they imported everything, because frankly, I doubted anything was alive up here to chop down and it is not the best of ideas to quarry the small island you are building on.

Well, besides looking well done, they were definitely fantasy.

I was glad that I was paying attention to those buildings, because one wall decided to explode outward in a rain of debris. Naturally, because my life in a nutshell, such an event was then trumped by another two buildings' walls exploding.

Some of the debris hit my horde, but beyond two Skeletal Warriors and a Ghoul losing their head, none of my horde actually 'died' to the… ambush? Considering I could see an Onslaught knight missing her left arm, and a lot of her chest on that side, in the settling dust, and what looked like a helmet further away… I was going to guess that was just an accident.

… What the hell was that?

As I tried to process the things that came out of the buildings' new entrances, my horde surged forward to deal with them. If I had to describe them, they were giant men , easily twice the size of Lung before he started powering up. Built like you'd expect a stereotypical barbarian with thick muscles and such… Except they had green skin… with seaweed, shells, barnacles and debris strewn throughout their entire body.

What?

I actually couldn't tell if the things' 'hair' was actually hair, or if it was seaweed.

Unlike the Onslaught prior, they tore through my horde. Bellowing in roars and howls, the monstrosities of the sea charged straight into the horde, despite being outnumbered by at least twenty-five times over. Their axes flashed, and Ghouls had their chests cleaved in half. They kicked with strength great enough that my Skeletal Warriors were sent back in splinters.

I shivered. Such power. I wanted them.

Ghouls were sent into the fray with reckless abandon, leaping at the giants as if they were Geists. Several were cleaved in half, but the majority made it onto the monstrosities and started tearing them apart piece by piece with reckless glee. The Geists took to the rooftops and waited, they weren't needed here, while my skeletons stabbed and pummeled the sea giants with everything they had.

The monstrosities gave no ground, if anything they reveled in it, as cruel laughter poured from wretched lips as they threw Ghouls and broke Skeletons as if it were as simple as breathing. For all I knew, it was for them. That said, there had to be a limit to their ferocity, as only the true dead could boast unlimited stamina, and even if they broke ten of my Ghouls apiece, I'd still kill them before they managed to get through.

In the end, it wasn't like the bodies of my horde couldn't be remade after all.

Even now, mid-combat, my 'dead' were picking themselves back up, wounds stitching closed while bone and flesh knitted themselves back together. Such was the skill and power of my Partner that I wielded. It didn't matter that they were stronger than my current forces, they didn't have the numbers to press me and eventually, they too would fall.

At least, that was my initial assumption.

They just, wouldn't fucking die! Laughing and roaring in equal measure, they kept cleaving and ripping as if my undead were paper, even as chunks of flesh were torn apart by the Ghouls and the skeletons battered them with blows. Only when I began to think of adding in more of my meager forces to killing these giants did one finally fall.

A Ghoul impaled its claws through the neck of the giant, its laugh turning to a gurgling wretch as it tried to pry the undead off. My Warriors, rattling and vengeful, hewed one of the giant's legs off, disrupting the monstrosity's attempts and sending it crashing to the ground. What followed was payback, as if my undead understood the concept.

Soon after another fell, pierced through the eyes by my Archers and sent crashing to the ground before being mobbed by the vastly superior horde and torn limb from limb… I wasn't getting that corpse was I? Which left the third and biggest of the pack to face me and my horde.

"COME! HELHEIM AWAITS!"

Comparing him to the other two, was in a similar vein to comparing Alexandria and Glory Girl, one was much more dangerous and scarier than the other. He somehow was nimble for his size, 'dodging' the arrows shot at him while smashing apart the undead sent at him with a massive warhammer. Throughout all this, he was tearing Ghouls off him with bellows of laughter before sending them crashing into the horde, the force exploding my Ghouls into shrapnel and bits. I frowned, it was taxing me more to repair such damage, something to consider as it seemed he was doing it intentionally.

"FACE ME! SURELY YOU CAN DO BETTER!"

They got back up still, but he was a far more difficult foe to face. Which was where the Geists came in.

"FACE ME SORCERER! YOUR SKULL WILL MAKE A GOOD CUP!"

In concert, five of the gangly creatures leapt at the giant from the rooftops, silent beneath the noise of all the other undead, and onto the massive bulk of the creature. From what little I had gleaned of them, my Geists' usual method of killing was absolutely useless here, seeing as their hands were so much smaller than the thing's throat.

Which is why I went and had them clamber to the thing's head, dodge the grasping hand, and stab the monstrosity in the eyes. The laughter became a howl of rage immediately, and if anything, the giant grew tougher. I was rather done with the entire thing though, and sent a Deathbolt at the sightless creature.

"YOU WRETCH! HELYA CURSE YOUR SO-!"

It was as the bolt killed it that I felt my earlier annoyance peak into anger. Instead of being blasted back into the wall, or simply taking it and slumping to the ground. The wretch decided to explode into seaweed and mist the moment my Deathbolt slammed into it!

I scattered my horde from the other two corpses, my anger welling into rage at the sight of two more patches of sea debris. I fumed at the unfairness of it all. What was the point of being an Undead Necromancer… IF I COULDN'T RAISE MY ENEMIES AS FODDER!?

I quashed down on the rage before it could overwhelm me. Was I rightly enraged at the fact that both factions I was now fighting were immune to my raising? Of fucking course. But, I still had a job to do, and there was who knew how many Onslaught members and now sea-giants left to kill in this town. It was only when my rage diminished that I took a moment to realize something.

I understood that giant.

Out of the, admittedly small, variety of people I had talked with since gaining consciousness, there were only two others that I understood, the voice and the Skeleton.

"Kvaldir? Interesting. It seems you continue the trend of impressing, Little One, take care to see that it continues. The Kvaldir are not to be underestimated, and will prove a true test of your mettle and resourcefulness. Kill them all."

Another task, one I was likely to perform anyway, but daunting even more now. What I fought was a mere three, I had no ideas of their numbers but could very well estimate what such numbers could be if they decided to directly assault such a fortified position. Yet now… Now my Liege was taking interest in my actions, somehow I always ended up in the spotlight long before I was ready.

But what are these Kvaldir, why are they made of sea-water and debris?

"I suppose I could indulge you Little One, for now. They are the chained stolen souls of Helya, a rouge, jealous, Goddess. She sends her slaved souls to drag more down into her grasp for no other reason than to deny the other gods their Faithful. Petty, but her legions are endless. Any that treat with her or even enter her domain are Damned."

Wonderful, Gods, plural, exist here and there is a rogue one that steals the souls. Truly, my luck is abysmal. My troops began to reorganize even as I lamented my fate. The fighting would likely become only more intense the further I pushed in which will likely necessitate my direct involvement. I can only hope my Partner has something of use for me.

"Now go forth, claim this land, and all on it, in my name. For the Lich King!"

And so, I went.

I found more of the Onslaught as I passed through the alleyways, weary yet proud as they stood over fresh patches of seaweed and metal. Ghouls laughed, bones rattled, arrows sang, and screams echoed into the mist. They were swarmed and butchered with little effort, tired as they were, especially since I knew who to target first to prevent the resurrections.

It was a shame I couldn't send them away, but with the Kvaldir around, I needed every body I could. So I left their corpses where I killed them, and moved past them with my entourage of bones and rotting flesh.

As I went it readily became apparent that the Onslaught were able to hold their own well against the Kvaldir despite their overwhelming power. Sure, there was the occasional dead Onslaught member torn apart in ways that would make a normal person retch, and likely render them un-resurrectable, but there were far more splotches of sea debris than there were corpses.

I was starting to suspect my earlier successes were less due to my troops or my skill... And more due to the fact that I effectively blitzed them with six times their numbers, and caught them flatfooted. It wasn't a good feeling.

My journey through the remainder of the alleys took me further and further into the heart of the Onslaught Harbor, meeting far less resistance than I would have thought. The din of battle grew louder as I kept my horde marching, explaining the lack of bodies and foes in my path. It was as I drew to the alley's end that my horde stopped and waited, Geists and Archers watching something in the mist from the rooftops as I stepped forward.

… That was… a lot of Onslaught and Kvaldir.

I expected a couple dozen Onslaught, and maybe ten or so Kvaldir duking it out in this plaza… I didn't expect over a hundred Onslaught, fighting what looked like thirty Kvaldir. Priests and Priestesses alike were healing the Onslaught in the front, resurrecting them when they were crushed or split in two. There were Kvaldir further behind the fighting, looking as if they were weaving mist before sending it flying at their kin.

Soldiers clashed against giants, howls of glee and laughter mixed with probably righteous shouts. Kvaldir smashed, crushed and cleaved with reckless abandon. Onslaught drove the giants back with sword, spear, shield and Light.

But, I barely paid attention to that beyond a cursory glance, because in the middle of the plaza laid a scene that reminded me of old Legends and Fantasy.

On one side was the Kvaldir, easily a good three feet bigger than the rest of his kind, protected by rusted armor caked with barnacles encasing his massive frame. In each hand sat a truly massive blade, cracked and battered to the point that something was being used to bind the blades together. Two tusks of some great thing were his spaulders, untainted by the seas alongside two other objects: a cloak of pure obsidian scale that seemed to draw in the light, and a skull he used as a helm.

A skull looking like a Dragon's.

Across from the colossal Kvaldir, were two far more human individuals. One was a shining beacon, a Knight in shining armor as it were, plate seemingly glowing as he rushed towards his foe with hammer held high and shield braced. The other was a shadow in the night, an Assassin in blackened mail and a red cowl, throwing a group of knives at the monster of a Kvaldir.

Naturally, such a thing did nothing, not even distracting the giant as he swept his blade at the knight and caught him in the shield. The Onslaught knight was sent skidding and scraping away before he managed to clamber to his feet, starting his charge again. With a cheerful laugh, the Kvaldir took a step forward and swung at the assassin, the woman nimbly dodging out of the way as the blade crashed down.

"Keep it up, keep it up! Show me your resolve!" The Kvaldir bellowed with intermixed glee and amusement.

… I had no idea what was going on… I was pretty sure I didn't want to know what was going on.

With that said, I was now on the edge of a major battlefield between two opposing forces… that couldn't kill the other. My path forward was blocked by said battlefield, and there was absolutely no way for me to brute force my way through with the lack of bodies I had. I had to pick one to focus on, and hope that both factions didn't decide that I was the greater problem.

Which left me with the conundrum, who do I attack? If I blitzed the Onslaught it would render them less able to replenish their numbers, and my forces had already shown that they could fight them… when I vastly outnumbered them, which at the moment, I didn't. However, that would leave the Kvaldir with an upper hand, likely lessening their losses for when it comes time for me to fight them.

Or I could attack the Kvaldir and hope that a battle on two fronts would see to their demise. A major threat were those mist-weaving… shamans? I had no idea what magics they were capable of, no stereotypes to really fall back on guessing from. The Kvaldir had already shown that even a few of their number could render my Scourge little more than bone meal and scrap, obviously making them the greater threat, with or without unknown magics.

I grimaced, it seems once again I didn't have a choice in the end. The Kvaldir were simply too great a threat to leave unmolested, the Onslaught were Human, they could tire. They would crumple, eventually, to harrying attacks. The Kvaldir wouldn't. Dammit.

Energy pulsed from me though my Ghouls and Skeletal Warriors as they rushed towards the mist-weaver Kvaldir without any hesitation. All the while Geists and Skeletal Archers bounded from rooftop to rooftop closer to support them. I would only have a few moments to capitalize on the surprise of appearing out of nowhere, so I committed everything.

With rabid cackles, the Ghouls leapt straight into the mist-weavers, clambering onto the now-unbalanced casters and ripping into their 'flesh'. The warriors came next, charging their rattling armor straight into the off-balance casters and knocking them to the ground, bones clacking together as rusted weapons joined the Ghouls in tearing the Kvaldir apart. They weren't prepared for my horde and they suffered greatly for it.

Three of the casters fell in the opening move, dissolving into sea debris as my horde kept going in their mad rush. I barely noticed the mist receding, it was welcome but unimportant. The casters were, thankfully, less durable than the warriors… which made sense when I thought about it, magic-users in cloth were easier to kill than a knight in armor.

Another of the casters fell to arrows through the head, letting out a low howl before the last arrow struck him in the throat. At that point, my surprise had worn off and several Kvaldir warriors turned from the battle towards my forces, roaring in rage before charging straight into the horde.

Necromantic energy gathered around me, which I used to fire a Deathbolt straight at the lead warrior, the blast killing the creature and sending the debris of his body splattering across the plaza. My mages followed up the attack with their own, frost and shadow sent hurtling into another Warrior, their focused fire freezing and shattering the Kvaldir's legs. The howl it let out in pain and rage was short-lived as its kin trampled over it.

The fifth and sixth casters stopped whatever weaving they had been doing, turning to my horde as what looked like brackish water coalesced in their hands. With a wrathful howl they sent bolts of water at my horde, blasting apart the lead Ghouls into pieces of bone and flesh. Unfortunately for the casters, they could only cast so fast, and they fell to Frenzied teeth and claws.

At that point, there was nothing left to do but mop up the Warriors, and get the hell out of here before the Onslaught crashed down on my limited forces.

Roars met cackles as Skeletal Warriors and the Kvaldir crashed into one another. As expected, the Kvaldir plowed straight through the skeletons without slowing down, whereupon two were introduced to arrows in the eyes, and the rest had Ghouls pounce on them. While the Kvaldir fought the feral-like Ghouls, I reassembled the Skeletal Warriors with a tap of my staff, immediately having them stab the Kvaldir in the back once they gained their bearings.

I took a moment to look towards the Onslaught forces, and found them doing far better without the pressure from the other Kvaldir. Granted they still had the colossal one battling the two 'heroes' near them, but the rest? They were completely and utterly trouncing them now.

A Knight barged straight into one of the Kvaldir, knocking the giant off-balance before a spear-wielder ran and used the knight as a springboard, leaping straight onto the sea-giant and plunging her weapon straight through the neck, killing the Kvaldir instantly. Another Kvalidr was pelted with bolt after bolt before finally slumping to the ground in death, and yet another was cut apart by the fanatics.

My actions definitely had an impact on this battle.

I paid little mind to the rest of the fight over there, the Onslaught would handle the rest, and I could make my escape when they focused on the 'leader'. My own horde were having a more… difficult time taking down the Kvaldir. Certainly they were dying, attested to by my archers making another into a pincushion, and my Ghouls pinning down two and tearing them apart viciously.

I think they had a grudge from earlier… if Ghouls could even carry grudges. I wasn't about to deter them, especially since they were doing good work, and I could learn more about my undead when I wasn't in the middle of a warzone.

I formed another Deathbolt and shot it at one of the Kvaldir surrounded by corpses of my undead, the magic ripping the creature apart with an unholy scream. The bodies of the 'fallen' rose once more, straightening themselves with cackles and gibbering before I sent them straight into the few remaining Kvaldir left.

A lone Ghoul ran straight at a warrior, the massive being grinning cruelly amidst broken bodies as it swung a greataxe straight at the undead. My Ghoul leapt forward, as its kind tended to do, and the axe split it in twain mid jump, a laugh erupting from the monstrosity as it continued the swing.

But the Ghoul didn't fall apart.

Gibbering and growling, the half of a Ghoul landed on the Kvaldir, claws digging into the warrior's head as the laugh turned to a roar. Teeth tore apart the neck of the Kvaldir, claws raked its face and gouged its eyes, all as the Kvaldir tried to pry the Ghoul off, dropping its weapon in the process. The Ghoul refused, continually tearing and ripping until its foe fell to the ground screaming hatefully at the lesser undead.

… The Ghouls definitely held grudges. Good to know.

When that Kvaldir finally ceased to be, I was treated to the macabre sight of both halves of it crawling to one another, before it reattached itself seamlessly, with a little help of necromantic power. The final Kvaldir that charged me was reduced to nothing more than piles of sea debris, buried under my horde.

"Oh? You've defeated the rabble have you? Well, I guess it's time to get serious then!"

My attention turned back to the battle between the Onslaught at the booming voice, an eyebrow raising itself in disbelief at what I just heard. 'Get serious'? That was the most… cartoon thing I'd heard, ever. The colossal Kvaldir stood alone, laughing joyfully in the middle of the Onslaught soldiers.

"A few hundred versus me alone... A worthy Challenge for Sigvaldr Dragonsbane!"

A soldier with a greatsword charged the giant the moment the giant finished speaking. It was only with 'Sigvaldr's' action that I understood how dangerous that Kvaldir truly was.

One moment the soldier was charging, and in the blink of an eye he was split in two. I didn't even see the Kvaldir move, even Leviathan, fast as it had been, hadn't been so fast as to move so quickly without being seen. And the laughter continued, as if the monster truly enjoyed himself.

My plan crumbled, as the realization of how dangerous this Champion was sank in. It wasn't a person, a hero, or even a villain that I was faced with. It was a force of nature. An Endbringer.

He took a step forward, the ground cratering under his bulk, as Onslaught rushed him. He swung, and I barely caught the movement of his sword before two Onslaught were cleaved clean through, and a third sent flying into a building. His knees buckled, another swing reduced a knight to a broken corpse in a crater. Sigvaldr jumped, laughing in joy as he easily crested above the squat rooftops towards…bounding quickly to the priests from an angle no one had expected.

I firmed my resolve and ordered my horde to join the slaughter.

Screams echoed as bodies were torn apart by the sheer expression of strength that was this monster, swords sung and metal shattered. Blood splashed across the ground, limbs tumbled through the air. Spears splintered and shields buckled.

Not a single member of the Onslaught so much as made a dent on Sigvaldr, bolts shattered on his armor, swords were deftly dodged with ease, spears broke on his cloak. The priests tried to cast magic, but each time he simply laughed harder and kept butchering them where they stood.

All in ten seconds, finally my horde joined the ragged remains of the Onslaught to fight against the monster. I could only guess how many Onslaught were slain, but I suppose it mattered little as that number was rapidly increasing.

"Oh? More challengers?"

My Ghouls leapt.

"Sigvaldr will take on any challengers!"

The sword flashed. My Ghouls fell apart into pieces, chunks of bone simply aerosolized by the sheer force behind the mighty blows.

My undead were nothing more than an attempt to slow down the force of nature in front of me, against an Endbringer, or even just something that was just a fraction of one, physical strength and weapons wouldn't work. Warriors and Archers went next as the Ghouls slowly knit themselves back together, arrows flying from the rooftops in a vain hope that they would do something.

Those arrows, which had pierced through plate with ease, bounced off the Giant just before he barreled into the Warriors, only one arrow stuck. Bones shattered and flew as I focused everything on my magic. It was the only hope I had to win, no, survive this Champion.

I saw the two heroes fall to Sigvaldr's blades, buying me just a few seconds more time. The Assassin threw knives at the creature, somehow expecting that to work as a distraction as she closed distance with the monster. She leapt, he laughed, she died.

Her two halves tumbled across the ground as a roar of rage came from the Knight, who charged uncaring into the fray, pushing my own recovering Ghouls out of the way in his mad rush. One of the massive blades came crashing down, and the Knight lost his weapon arm, the other came and impaled the Knight straight through the chest, nearly bisecting the man from the blade's sheer size.

With a laugh of pure joy, Sigvaldr tossed the man off to the side near the Assassin, and focused his attention on me.

"Keep it up small ones! Show your resolve to Sigvaldr!"

I didn't reply, pouring everything I had into one bolt of necromantic energy. My body felt weak, my hand gripping my staff with a deathgrip to try and not fall over. A low thrum of power started behind, before I felt more energy pervade me, which I immediately channeled into the bolt.

I had one shot to try and kill it, or at least stop it.

Skeletal Archers kept up their shooting, for the little it did, as the Geists moved, ready to give themselves to buy just a few seconds more for me. Warriors threw themselves into the Champion's path, bashed or shattered aside without slowing it down. What few Ghouls returned from 'death' carved apart with ease, only a single one managing to latch onto the Kvaldir's massive form and attempt to claw the giant.

Sigvaldr paid it no mind at all, laughing merrily as he cut through the dwindling horde.

I stopped trying to reanimate my broken corpses, it was a waste of energy now and the corpses wouldn't be able to slow him down enough to balance it out. My Deathbolt grew larger by the moment, but having a big projectile was not necessarily what I wanted. Bigger was better when it came to ensuring someone couldn't escape or dodge it, or you were dealing with a massive group of people.

I was dealing with neither of those.

So I tried my best to compress the energy into itself. I had no idea if it would work, I had no idea if it would explode itself and kill me in the backlash. But it was the only possible way to have a chance of killing that monster.

Muffled thuds came from behind me, I paid them no mind.

Sigvaldr took a step further, winding back both of his blades.

One of us would die here. I didn't want to die. I refused to die.

I sent the bolt flying and took a step back to catch myself.

The last thing I saw of Sigvaldr was a massive grin in the skull helm as he swung his blades straight down into the bolt.

The moment the blades hit, the bolt exploded in a torrent of purple and black light, engulfing my vision. My legs trembled as I kept standing, a small part of me hoping that somehow this was enough to kill the Endbringer, while the rest of me waited for the inevitable ugly truth.

How does one describe the sound that occurred? His laughter mixed with a screeching not unlike metal grinding on metal and the crackling of energy, turning it into an orchestra of noise straight out of a horror film. The worst was the laughing, as if a bolt of pure Death was just something normal for him to face. It probably was.

For a few seconds that stretched to eternity, the clash was the only thing in my vision. And then it was over, with a sound like breaking metal. The cloud of energy dissipated, and through the lingering I saw him still.

Completely and utterly unharmed.

My legs gave out, and I slumped to my knees, completely and utterly exhausted. I was going to die, mere hours after being returned to life. I was going to be a failure, not completing my given task, and dying a second time in the process.

I didn't want to die… I didn't want my partner to lose her desire before we could even start…

I kept my head high, looking at Sigvaldr's grinning face as he let out a hearty chuckle before looking down at his hands. My gaze foll-

"Well, this is a surprise. Not once since I forged these blades have they ever been broken! You're more worthy than the Black Dragons were!"

His swords were shattered. The darkish-steel blades were just handles and bits of sharpened metal attached to them. I doubted they could even be used to kill me with how broken they were, not that the monster in front of me needed them to do so.

"Tell me your name, Small One. I will etch it into my memory, for future… encounters." He chuckled darkly, likely at some inside joke I couldn't begin to fathom.

I could only blink in surprise. Sure I expected him to take it in stride given his attitude, but to ask for my name? I was beginning to think that this person had a few screws loose… but I guess being a literal force of nature meant you could be one and not give a damn.

"I was named Taylor… but they dubbed me Skitter when I refused their authority. They titled me Weaver when I bent the knee, but whispered Khepri when I bent theirs. Then I died."

His smile never left his face, but his eyes took a slightly curious tint as he leaned in closer, humming in thought.

"So? What does that make you now?"

"I suppose that makes me nothing more than a Wraith, for now."

If anything, Sigvaldr's grin grew bigger at my answer, throwing his head back and laughing without a care.

"'For now' she says! I look forward to our next duel to the death Wraith!"

With his piece said, the massive Kvaldir dropped his ruined weapons to the ground, a heavy thud startling me as he stood to his full height. Without warning, he plunged his hand into his own chest and in one motion tore his heart out. He kept laughing as he dissolved into sea debris, causing the lone Ghoul situated on his back to drop to the ground, completely and utterly as confused as I was.

What. The. Fuck. Just. Happened.

Sneaky AN: Hehe, strap in kids.

Grey: This will be updated up to the current position on SB every 3 days. That is all.

greysongarr · Apr 18, 2021

My head slumped down, the weight of my exhaustion sinking in the moment the sheer confusion of the past few moments faded. I had survived, barely, by impressing that monster of a creature somehow.

With that said…

I was on my last legs, my horde was in tatters, and I still had to deal with both groups still on the island.

Gibbering made me lift my head back up with some effort, finding my sole remaining Ghoul looking me straight in the face from a few feet away, its head tilted to the side like a dog. It was a far cry from the murderous balls of energy and spite that I had gotten used to in the past few minutes. It was… honestly disconcerting in a way.

I forced myself up with my staff, body shaking from the sheer effort of standing on two feet. I was surprised when my Ghoul scurried to my side not a moment later and wrapped its claws around me. It was... not helpful at all. While it kept me steady, I needed to be moving, not idling about.

At the sound of rattling metal and a heavy thud, I tore my eyes from the Ghoul holding me to the noise, spying one of my Skeletal Archers on the ground, walking towards the pile of corpses. While I was curious as to what it was doing, as I wasn't directing it to… do anything, much like the Ghoul, I could only assume it was doing something because of my partner.

Once it got closer, its head turned, apparently looking for something, before it zeroed in on whatever it was looking for and sped to… a priest's corpse. The archer knelt down next to the carved body and started rifling through it, picking through pockets and tossing personal belongings aside. Apparently it didn't find what it was looking for, since the archer stood back up and marched over to the next priestess's corpse, and repeated the process over again.

By the sixth corpse being 'looted', I was starting to feel slightly better with my body shaking less and my footing far steadier. My lone Ghoul let me go finally the moment I tried to walk again, surprising me for a moment at the lack of grip before I got a hold of myself, the staff bracing my step.

The rattling of the archer snapped my attention back to it, finding it nearly back to me with a strange-looking flask in its hands. It was pyramid-shaped at the bottom with a golden stopper and edges, blue liquid sloshing around with each step the Skeletal Archer took.

Stopping right in front of me, the skeleton held out the strange flask for me to take. I wasn't certain what it was, but, considering I was in a fantasy world the easiest assumption was it was a potion. The problem with that line of thinking was, well, potions were… expansive. This potion could be anything from an health potion that treats wounds, which would be weird since I was undead, to an acid that tore me apart atom by atom.

With that said, my archers were the apparently most intelligent of all my undead, even their 'brethren' warriors were nowhere near smart. The Skeletal Archers knew exactly where to aim to kill people the most efficiently with their weaponry, they were the most disciplined of my entire horde, and they had acted before I even gave them orders.

As far as I could understand, the archer in front of me was giving me something that it thought would help. I had no reason to doubt it, so I took the offered potion and unstoppered it after a moment of deliberation.

Without any further pauses, I brought the flask to my lips and tipped the blue liquid down my throat. It tasted… like complete and utter shit. I was fairly certain I didn't have working tastebuds to even taste it yet somehow I felt repulsed by the taste. There was so little of the liquid that I was finished with the flask by the time the taste registered thankfully, and while it did taste awful, I felt… 'better' after the taste was gone.

However, I felt like I could do magic again, so I tried to raise what was left of my horde.

My existence was tied to my ability to use magic… An unsettling thought, but I guess that's being an Undead.

Sigvaldr had done a number on my forces, and the Onslaught as well, and as I raised them from yet another death, I noticed that several took… much longer. The Geists were the best off, simply sliced in half, their bodies reattached themselves together and they got back to their feet, crouched and ready for the battle to continue.

The Skeletal Warriors were in a slightly worse state, most had been fortunate to simply be smashed aside by the monster, bones sent flying and armor dented and battered. Four of them were not so lucky, and I was left with crippled skeletons missing full sections of their body and entire limbs. I could repair broken and shattered bones with my necromancy, I couldn't repair what didn't exist anymore. Good to know, I suppose.

… My Ghouls had been shredded. I was lucky to get half of my prior numbers of them reanimated. If they were going to be my frontline troops for the foreseeable future I'd have to look into making them tougher. For now though I was stuck with them as they were, and I'd have to be more careful if I wanted to retain my troops in the near future. Losing troops and not being able to replenish them meant each troop needed to be used as optimally as possible.

There were some bits and pieces left of the Ghouls I couldn't reanimate, arms, ribs, legs and several lumps of flesh that were… hideous. My gaze lingered on an arm before I sighed and moved away… to find one of my crippled warriors standing next to it… missing an arm. An idea formed in my head, going slightly to Bonesaw's macabre creations before I focused and just went with it.

A corpse is not a human anymore, no matter how personable it is in unlife. Each part is replaceable, most of those parts are not necessary for it to continue functioning like it did when it was alive, an undead doesn't need organs to function, as skeletons attested to. Using the remains of the fully dead to repair crippled undead was only sensible with that logic.

It was like losing pieces of legos in a set, and then going to another set to get replacements.

A quick order and the skeleton planted its sword into the ground, bony hand wrapping around the disease-rotten arm and bringing it up to its shoulder. I waited for the other three to grab whatever it was that they needed before letting out a pulse of necromantic energy. I let a smile out at watching my Skeletal Warriors quickly getting used to the new additions, before I turned back to the corpse pile.

I needed new corpses for my partner to experiment on, and a new Ghoul to take up the task since the old one… I was pretty sure it didn't make it. The problem was… there were a lot of dead Onslaught to pick from, and I wasn't sure who to pick to 'accompany' me around. None of them were really exceptional from what I had seen of them, aside from the two that had faced the Sigvaldr.

Those two were worth my time in searching out… but at the same time I was on a timer. I had no idea when a second wave of Onslaught or Kvaldir would arrive, and if I didn't find them quick, I would just have to pick some random corpses. So I went looking for them, surrounded by my horde.

The search went far quicker than I expected, thanks to a single thing I had forgotten due to not wanting to die again. The Assassin's clothing was distinct. Finding a black-clothed corpse in a sea of red and white was far easier, and with that came another pleasant surprise. The Knight's corpse was directly next to her bisected body, given the blood trail he had dragged himself over on death's door.

I ignored the fact that the Knight's hand was laid atop the Assassin's.

A random Ghoul was chosen to be the carrier of the two corpses, I wasn't about to saddle the Ghoul that had lived through the slaughter with babysitting corpses. Surviving through that alone, even if by complete luck, should be rewarded, and what better reward than to be allowed to kill further for a Ghoul?

Two other corpses were selected without any thought, and piled onto the Ghoul corpse bearer, and with that I was ready to move on.

Just like with the battle, there were two distinct options available to me. I could face the Kvaldir, who I assumed would be at the Harbourfront... or go face the Onslaught in their Cathedral… And just like before, the Kvaldir were the more prominent threat of the two. I see a pattern forming here. Once again, I could simply wear out the Onslaught by killing them and dumping their corpses somewhere they couldn't find until they were all dead.

My horde moved in the likely direction of the Harbourfront. The Ghouls and Warriors massed and readied to face the giants to come, while Geists and Archers clambered upon the rooftops to provide support when needed. My hope was that Sigvaldr was one of a kind as one of that was far too many as it was.

The walk through the mist-shrouded streets was short, but utterly mind-numbing, which in a way I was grateful for. It let me prepare for the bloody battle ahead, and the foes that awaited me. The human ones. The ones that came after I finished dealing with the monsters. I saved Humanity from a god-like space alien, now I'm killing them, life seems to be ironic like that.

The mist was noticeably lighter than it had been prior to the battle, showing that killing the Kvaldir had an impact on the mists, which was both good and bad. Good, in that it let me see where the hell I was, where I was going, and seeing enemies. Bad… in that the Onslaught would know where I was, and throw everything they had left at me.

I found the Harbourfront quickly, a broken shipyard of burning wood and malicious laughter. Corpses of the Onslaught were strewn about the yard, impaled on posts and debris, and buried under rubble, crude cages and what appeared to be makeshift campsites littered the land in front of me.

Just from what I could see through the fog, the Kvaldir were massed here, taking stock of… 'loot', reveling in destruction and… flaying an Onslaught member. Terrorists and fanatics they may have been…My face twisted in disgust, no one deserved that.

The Flayer, as I dubbed him, was nowhere near as tall as Sigvaldr had been, maybe a foot or so taller than the rest, but nothing like the Champion had been. Regardless, based solely on his equipment - namely that he had armor and a big weapon on his back - he was probably the leader of the Kvaldir here. He was focused on his… 'project', and thus wasn't aware that I had even arrived with my horde, hell most of the Kvaldir weren't aware, drunk in their revelry.

That blissful unawareness was something I wasn't used to seeing, but it was an easy thing to take advantage of. All I needed was to kill the Flayer in one hit to make it successful.

Necromantic energy gathered and crackled, coalescing into a Deathbolt before I sent it rocketing at the Flayer. The potent bolt of condensed death hit the creature square in the back, a howl erupting from the creature before it exploded into sea debris across the flayed body, ending the 'life' of the Flayer in one move.

There was a moment of surprise among the Kvaldir, so into their revelry that they hadn't expected someone to assault them. My archers let loose, and that was when chaos reigned on the battlefield.

Arrows found the confused Kvaldir easy targets, ripping through throats with ease, dissolving five of the two dozen or so sea giants. I looked over the rest, ignoring the roars as they charged from their camps straight at my horde, there were four of the mistweavers in the back, and the rest were the standard warriors I'd gotten used to. My horde surged forward in response, cackling and gibbering as they went

Another volley of arrows sailed over my horde just before they crashed into the Kvaldir, targeting the mistweavers instead of the warriors. They weren't prepared for it, and with so little in the way of protection, they fell into piles of seaweed and flotsam, and the mist lessened until the clouded sky was visible again. The Kvaldir didn't care at all that their spellcasters had fallen, lost in rage and glee that they were.

It made them predictable, and I punished them for it.

It wasn't like the first battle, where I threw all of my undead into a meat grinder, only a few undead went to each Kvaldir keeping away from the lumbering strikes. A Kvaldir would swing at an undead, it would dodge the strike with a cackle and then its fellows would strike when the giant was occupied. Ghouls waited until the Kvaldir had swung or thrusted before they leapt, easily clambering onto the creatures and tearing them apart with rabid hunger.

My archers kept up the volleys, and soon enough the Warriors left alive whittled away. Skeletal Warriors dodged attacks easily despite their weight, reacting the moment the attack was launched and leaping out of the way. That wasn't to say I didn't lose some of my undead, two blown apart by a maul-wielder roaring in defiance, only to be decapitated by one of my warriors using a great axe.

The battle was a slaughter though, completely one-sided even before my magi lent their magic to the battle. In the end, my undead lost maybe five that easily were remade, and the whole of the Kvaldir forces were obliterated.

It was… Unsettling. Previously my forces had issues with just three, but now a reduced force manages to wipe out thirty? Was this some sort of cosmic joke? A surge of emotion and feelings hit me. Anticipation. Happiness. Hunger. Ah, it seems like my Partner has been working hard on data crunching. Confidence. Apparently, a lot of work. I wonder what the limit is for me now in this world? The Limit for… her? In a world of fantasy and magic, where biologly takes a back seat… Before this I fought against society killing threats with nothing but a plan and bugs. Now I have the ability to make my own army. I looked to my Skeletal Warriors that I had repaired with parts of other Lesser Undead, an army that I could upgrade and improve upon to adapt to changing circumstances.

The Joy I felt was shared between the two of us.

In the end, I was relieved that it was this easy, but at the same time I felt… disappointment. After Sigvaldr, I had expected the person in charge of him to be… better. Instead I got a weakling that died in one hit, and a band of warriors that were easy to defeat once my partner had figured out how to use the undead more proficiently. The Geists hadn't even been necessary in the battle, just sitting on the rooftops.

With a soft sigh, I turned and headed back the way I had come, my horde following without a beat missed. Hopefully, my Partner would get through that protection soon, it'd make the defeating the rest of the Onslaught forces much simpler. It must be complicated, or some form of magic we hadn't seen in action yet, to take Her this long.

The route back to the plaza was a much different experience now that I could actually see past the mist. I could see the fires burning in the distance, smoke rising from where undoubtedly the Kvaldir had looted and murdered. I could spot the broken buildings through alleyways and the signs of life that had taken place throughout the Harbor.

I witnessed the horrible displays the Kvaldir had done to some of the Onslaught, only just below the Flayer's own. In the end though, none of that mattered right now, it was just a distraction to pass the time until I got back to the plaza.

A few minutes later, I found myself back at the plaza, everything exactly as I left it. I paid no mind to the corpses I stepped over, paid no mind to the ruins of what was once an almost certainly beautiful piece of architecture before I had arrived, paid no mind to the plaza in general. My eyes were on the Cathedral.

From the shoreline, the Cathedral had been massive. Standing beneath it… describing it with 'massive' was like saying Alexandria was 'tough'. It towered over everything, and for a moment I just questioned why they would make it that big and how they had even made the thing. The Cathedral looked like it could hold thousands of people, more than this entire town could house as a population, easily. But this was never a town, now was it? Zealots and Terrorists don't make towns. This was a forward military base built by a bunch of fanaltical terrorists. The Cathedral took on a more sinister tone.

I hoped for my own sake that there weren't that many Onslaught in there… because if so I had been thrown into a suicide mission.

The path from the plaza to the Cathedral was long, wide and straight, and in the distance I could see a group of what I assumed were Onslaught marching down the street. My mind immediately went to work, as my horde clambered to get ready, ducking into alleys and hiding behind chimneys while a few of my Ghouls and Warriors milled about in the street to act as bait. With only a few seconds of preparation I was confident in being able to take out the patrol coming my way, as long as they sent small groups I could handle it.

There was shouting as they noticed me and my small portion of the horde, I couldn't make out what they were doing at the distance they were, beyond shifting around a lot, but them speeding up was another matter. It was a full blown, suicidal charge that took me aback for a moment, letting them gain some ground before I was ready. Arrows were nocked, weapons raised and claws dragged across the ground.

Without warning a crossbow bolt slammed into my chest, sending me back a step before I tried to find the offending crossbowman, only to receive another bolt into my right shoulder. My eyes narrowed before I conjured a Deathbolt and flung it straight at the lead Onslaught member, already annoyed with the entire battle. It came to my surprise when a bubble of some kind of light engulfed the man, something I hadn't seen in the entire time I had been here, and effectively barreled through the bolt like the Siberian. Dread built in my gut.

Moments later, I heard one of my Warriors explode next to me, prompting me to look at the corpse even as I raised it back up… finding blackened bones slowly reform into a proper skeleton again. Apparently whatever hit it burned it, good to know for the future I guess. I turned back to the charging group, and caught another bolt to the chest for it. I let my horde converge on the group about to charge straight into my small group.

Five arrows sang in unison, but unlike with nearly every other time beforehand, the Onslaught were actually prepared. The Priests in the group, four or five if I had to guess, raised their hands to the sky just before my Archers fired, translucent forcefields appearing around them and a few other Onslaught members. My hand gripped my staff harder as I saw the arrows hit the forcefields and bounce off, only a single one managed to get through sending a gurgling priest to the ground.

My horde charged forward as one, clambering through the alleys to surround the Onslaught and tear them apart. Chaos quickly ensued without delay, as pristine and rusted weapons slammed into one another, holy magic healed and exploded with equal fervor, and several of the soldiers had that bubble from earlier. With little thought I made another Deathbolt and tossed it straight into the mass of bodies, my undead instinctively moving out of the way and letting it slam into an Onslaught.

My magi aided as well as they could, throwing bolts of frost and shadow into the melee with abandon as the Archers loosed arrow after arrow into the mix. Several of the Geists leaped off and landed on top of Onslaught, further adding to the chaos. I couldn't even tell what was happening at this poi-

A loud screech, like that of an eagle, made me look up and see something majestic and terrifying swoop into the battlefield. Eagle head, wings and a Lion's body, covered in deep scarlet armor. In other words, a goddamn Gryphon with a person mounted on its back. And there wasn't just one, there was a good dozen or so in the air.

I just had to jinx myself.

The Skeletal Archers reacted instantly to their presence, switching from aiming at the ground to the air and loosing their next volley at the Gryphon-Riders. Two pained screeches echoed in the air as the arrows found their marks, sending rider and mount plummeting to the earth.

Of course, I was then treated to the rest of the Gryphon-Riders proceeding to dive-bomb the Geists and Archers, screeching and shouts sounding over the clash of metal and occasional explosion from the melee. My archers continued their actions that amazed me, deftly dodging out of the way without a problem, even sending another three of the Gryphons into the roof with a well placed arrow in the process. My Geists… did not do so well.

I didn't react at all to the corpse dropping straight in front of me, uncaringly tapping my staff against the ground twice and letting the broken corpses knit back together. What few undead remained on the rooftops quickly vacated the area as the Gryphons circled around, I had no doubt that my Skeletal Archers could take them out… but the chance of there being another wave was too high. Even as they were moving down, the archers continued to fire, it didn't matter at what target, just that they kept up their pressure.

Then, the trumpet sounded, and I knew I was completely fucked.

The stamping of hooves and clatter of armor came from the direction of the Cathedral, as horsemen unsheathed weapons and shouted what I assumed were war-cries as they thundered closer. My horde would be decimated by the impact of the charge, no matter what I could try to do to mitigate the damage, most of them would be destroyed.

Knowing this, I did the only thing that made sense. I pulled several of my undead back to me: my archers, some of the Ghouls and warriors, and finally my magi. I couldn't bring everything, because I had to blunt the charge somehow - even if it ended up being just a speedbump - not even to mention the still-living Onslaught in the melee.

Which left me with nothing else to do but to pray that my Partner would get through the protections quickly, or we'd both die - again.

The cavalry refused to even slow down as they neared the battle, smashing and trampling through my sacrificial troops, swinging their weapons through the few that survived the charge, before continuing to barrel straight towards me. I didn't let any of my undead still 'alive' move forward or make any action, it would matter anyway as the Onslaught - who had more than triple my forces - moved to surround me.

I kept my eyes on the lead rider, a man in ornate armor wielding a greatsword, as he rode up, watching in apprehension as he held a raised fist up and slowed his advance. The rest of his knights circled around me, leveling hammers and blades at my forces as their horses stamped the ground angrily.

Sending the horse forward at a trot, the Onslaught started spouting something in his language, given the venom and vitriol I could feel in his voice, it certainly wasn't nice. Unfortunately for him, I neither cared for what he said nor understood him. Grandiose gestures were given, spreading his arms wide, clenching his unoccupied fist and all sorts of other things that I quickly became bored of.

My execution was being turned into a spectacle. I didn't know what was worse, the fact that I was being turned into a showpiece again or that this idiot was likely letting slip tons of valuable information that I couldn't fucking understand!

Completion.

Flesh knit together. Bone settled back in place. Lifeless hands clenched.

The necrotic energy had been wafting off of me this entire time, something that none of them tried to stop - likely because I hadn't tried to attack them with it - it had slithered across the ground, sinking into everything dead around me this whole time…

I smiled, and couldn't help the chuckle that spilled out of my mouth. Whatever spiel the leader of the Onslaught was going through, he certainly didn't take long to immediately go after my action. It's rather easy to tell when someone gets pissed off with a 'lack of respect', even with a language barrier. He didn't get too far when two knives pierced through his throat, rending through the armor and leaving him to choke.

"By the Light, you talk too much. Heh, I've been wanting to do that for a long time."

Behind him, situated on his horse in a crouch, was the Assassin. In one seamless movement, both daggers decapitated the leader, while the Assassin kicked the body straight off the horse. The body landed with a crash of metal, shortly followed by the thud of the helmeted head bouncing towards me.

… I had zero idea what the fuck just happened, but I wasn't going to complain as the Knight pushed off the Ghoul holding it and clanged to his feet. The other three corpses followed suit, slumping or pushing themselves to their feet and looking straight at their former comrades. My low chuckle had turned into a full-blown confused laughter. For once, my luck wasn't complete and utter shit and actually came in at the right time to save my ass.

My laughter only stopped when another bolt slammed into my chest, sending me back a few steps. Annoyance quickly set in and I let my body react on its own, a 'hand' of necrotic energy similar to when I had first come back to 'life' lashed through the crowd of Onslaught directly into the one surviving crossbowman. Grasping her by the throat, the limb quickly retracted back to me, and once more I let my body act on its own, watching dispassionately as the staff was pulled back.

A thrust at the right moment led to the 'hand' impaling the struggling Onslaught on the weapon, before it continued further and slammed the dying woman into the ground.

Ripping my staff from the offending Onslaught, I turned back to the rest, and found them suddenly much less enthusiastic to face me.

Their zealotry, their foolhardiness, their egos… It all came crumbling down. They had based their 'invincibility' on the idea that they could resurrect their troops, and the enemy was denied the ability to convert them. Yet here I was, having raised their Heroes, turned them to my side, my will.

I readied my Undead and my Onslaught, I knew what was going to follow. These men and women wouldn't run, too much had been ingrained into them. No, I casually gazed upon the tightening of fistss and gritted teeth, they were going to fight.

Right.

Now.

Two taps of the staff, and everything exploded into action. With a roar that shook my eardrums the Knight charged straight into the largest concentration of Onslaught, followed by my Ghouls and one of the raised Onslaught. My archers nocked and fired at the remaining Gryphon-Riders, dwindling the air support quickly, while the warriors charged straight into the fray, cackling as they did.

The body at my feet twitched and slowly stood itself up in sync with several of the bodies around me, my Partner easily breaking apart the protections now that she had the key. An unholy screech pierced the air, drawing my attention to a Gryphon rising from the ground and ruffling its feathers, glowing eyes like ice alight with bloodlust as it zeroed in on its living brethren. Its rider quickly climbed into the saddle, and the two lifted off to sate themselves in the slaughter of their former allies.

It was enough to make rasping laughter leak from me, the looks on their faces as the tables turned.

Another two taps of my staff sent the newly raised into the fray, as well as reanimated my fallen from earlier. The Onslaught Cavalry lost their allies on foot quickly after that, the soldiers having their feet pulled out by Geists and Ghouls clambering back up. Not to say they hadn't put up a fight, they broke at least two Ghouls or Skeletal Warriors each before they were pulled down and drowned in bodies. But to a Necromancer, simply remaking the bodies was an easy task.

The cavalry put up much more of a fight, simply by virtue of being elevated onto a horse and having the ability to maneuver away from the horde, if only for a bit. Unfortunately for them, they were surrounded. Staying in a single place was a death sentence, as they learned from the Assassin, who jumped from horse to horse above the throng and impaling her daggers into their necks and heads, laughing like a madwoman as she did.

What little cavalry remained attempted to get through, moving towards me hacking, bashing and trampling whatever laid in their way. Knights were dragged and knocked from their saddles, where the Ghouls and Geists set upon them with hunger, and the three that managed to get through the horde quickly became the focus of my magi and archers.

Suffice to say, they and their mounts died quick deaths via arrows and flash-freezing.

Turning away from the massacre, because what else could it be described as, I walked back to the plaza proper to start raising the rest of the slain there. I could return when the last of the knights were taken care of, but there were a lot of bodies to raise, not even mentioning the ones I'd left behind before coming into the Harbor proper. I'd have to get those soon, lest I forget about them and lose more members of my horde.

I wasn't worried about the knights somehow getting out of there and coming after me in a moment of surprise. What few remained were doomed to die and be raised for my new army.

Once I was finished raising the last of the Onslaught in the plaza did I finally do something about the bolts in my chest. Leaning my staff against my shoulder, I firmly took hold of a bolt and pulled, wrenching it out and tossing it aside. Black ichor dripped from the wound as I took hold of the next, ripping it out with the same force as the first, before doing the action a third and a fourth time.

I didn't care enough about the wounds to close them up, especially when they didn't seem to impact me at all, so like with the earlier bolt wounds, they remained dripping liquid without end.

"Impossible…"

I turned to the side at the voice, my eyes narrowing at the sight of the Skeleton from earlier floating towards me, looking at the Onslaught corpses march past. I didn't know why he was down here, since he hadn't deigned to help me in the slightest against the Onslaught and hadn't contributed in the slightest to my success. If it was to 'keep an eye on me'... he certainly had done a terrible job, considering he lost me immediately.

With that said, he wasn't worth my time in the slightest, as I still had to raise the dead at the last battle, and send off my horde to go collect the corpses around the town. So without paying him any mind I-

"How did you get through the Bane?"

I turned back to the Skeleton, raising an eye at the question filled with outrage. "Bane?" Was that what the protection was called? 'Bane'? If it had something attached to it, I could understand the name… but just 'Bane'?

"You… You didn't even know! How could a lesser undead like yourself do what even a Lord of Liches cannot, when you didn't even know of the Bane?"

I gave an unconcerned shrug, watching as the 'Lich' radiated more and more outrage, helpfully indicated by the licks of frost pouring from him, at the conversation taking place. Amusement trickled into my voice, I simply couldn't help it, what with the asshole being indignant about me 'doing the impossible'. Killing a God was supposed to be impossible, but I managed it. "I kept trying. Simple."

His eyes flared with blue fire, seems to be another tell to watch for, "... Kept trying? You kept trying? Even Lord Kel'Thuzad has yet to break the Bane, and you a lesser undead man-"

"That is enough."

The second voice shut the Lich up, outrage replaced instantly with trepidation as he turned to the side, my eyes following the path he took. What I found was another Lich, bigger than the first by around half by my guess, surrounded by several links of floating chains and wearing far less ornate robes than the other was. In his skeletal hands was a simple staff sized for him, made of blackened metal and fitted with a skull as its only decoration.

That wasn't what caught my attention though.

"L-Lord Kel'Thuzad."

"Chillwinter. Do you doubt me?"

His voice was the same as the one I had been hearing since I had been raised.

An aura of calm radiated from Kel'Thuzad as he awaited an answer, so completely at ease. It made me question who was the Lich King, if my Liege's title was Lord of Liches. Were they the same person? Or was there one even stronger than my… Master? I shook my head.. Regardless, I kept my eyes on the Liches as they continued.

The Lich, Chillwinter, shrunk in on himself and stuttered out a reply, my amusement growing at watching the asshole get chewed out. "N-no. Of course not my lord!"

Kel'Thuzad nodded solemnly, "I see. If that is so, why did you not do as I asked?"

Disappointment laced his words, and even I had to feel some sympathy as the smaller Lich looked to the ground, rubbing his hands together as he tried to think of some response. Kel'Thuzad continued without waiting for an answer, barreling through the conversation as if Chillwinter was just a disobedient student.

"Did I not ask you simply, to support the individual I personally retrieved from the Twisting Nether?" Frost stealthily creeped out from underneath him, at first I thought it was a mistake… but as I had caught Chillwinter twitching his skull toward the growing frost - and becoming increasingly more nervous - I began to think it was an intentional theatric. "Why do I see no Undead of Talramas among the ruins? Why do I not see Talramas itself in the sky above?"

"I… I did not want to risk losing the Necropolis that both you and the King gave so generously to me. I did not want waste undead facing the Onslaught when the Living arrive soon, my Lord."

… Despite being an asshole, and almost certainly not giving me troops due to me pissing him off, I will give Chillwinter credit. He raised valid points as to not contribute to the battle. I had no idea what a Necropolis was, but if the 'King' rarely gave them out, they had to be important, very rare, or both. And given the Onslaught's success until I broke 'the Bane', I could understand not wanting to lose potential troops.

He was still a fucking asshole and deserved whatever punishment came. But his reasons were understandable.

But it was the wrong thing to say, as Kel'thuzad casual manor evaporated like the water depositioning around the ever growing frosty circle. "You… Thought? You Want? I was not aware you were more knowledgeable than I. I was not aware that my orders were just suggestions." If I had to describe the sound and visuals to someone in the future that Chillwind made… It would be a mix between a choking gurgle and a gasp, as his entire body ceased all movement like a deer in headlights. To be honest, it was somewhat impressive being that he didn't have lungs.

"You will return to Talramas Lich Chillwinter, and you will take it to En'kilah to prepare for the Living incursion. A more suitable lord will be named there, under the San'layn's authority."

I wasn't sure how, but Kel'thuzad loomed over floating Lich without even having moved. "Am I understood?"

"Y-yes my lord."

"Good. I do not wish to see Talramas in the skies of Icecrown by the morning. Leave us."

Pure white energy gathered around Chillwinter's hands as the Lich hurried to obey and left in a flash of light, seemingly teleporting away in pure, unadulterated terror of further angering Kel'Thuzad. Once the smaller Lich was gone, Kel'Thuzad seemed to calm down, one of his hands coming to his face as he sighed.

"Even here, I am surrounded by Imbeciles."

Removing his hand, Kel'Thuzad slowly turned his head to me, the aura of frost dissipating fully as he spoke three simple words.

"Come with me."

It was an order I complied with immediately as Kel'Thuzad started to float towards the Cathedral, moving to his side quickly before dropping my pace as the Lich seemed content to slowly go forward. After the display just now, on top of the other Lich's abject terror, I'd have to be Emma levels of stupid to go against his wishes.

My undead made way for him as they 'tidied up' the street, dumping the bodies to the side of the street and leaving them there for me to take care of.

"It is a pleasure to meet you in person Little One. You have done quite well, even without that incompetent fool's forces."

"I made due with what I had, my Lord." I subtly tapped my stave against the ground twice, keeping the pattern with my walking, sending my magic into the corpses we passed and raising them. As they clambered to their feet, I redirected the majority of them to go collect the bodies I had dumped at the beginning and the rest off to start repairs.

Kel'Thuzad made a rasping noise, "Indeed you did. Truly you have surpassed my highest aspirations for you. Breaking Onslaught's Bane not even two hours after your rebirth. Taking Onslaught Harbor in a single day, with a fraction of the Onslaught's forces and losing so few. Defeating the Kvaldir incursion without issue."

With a deep laugh Kel'thuzad paused to turn to look down at me, I could practically feel his eyes dissecting me. As if merely gazing at me would reveal all my secrets and tics… I- Could it?

"Truly, I was not wrong in my choice, wouldn't you say?" The amusement in his gaze unsettled me. It also unsettled me that I could somehow figure out when a skeleton with fire eyes was amused.

I tried to answer with a humble response, since my Liege clearly had low tolerance for braggarts, as he had told me earlier, it was best for me for him to remain pleased. "If you say so, my Lord. My tactics were basic, my troops weak, and my plans improvised. Surely, others could have done what I did. With constant access to the bodies, I'm sure you could circumvent the Bane yourself with ease."

He said nothing, merely turning his head to look down the path as he started forward once more. The Onslaught around us were showing significant initiative, commandeering the idling Lesser Undead to haul ruined stone and timber. It would be some time before the entire base was repaired but in the end it would be.

Kel'thuzad chuckled, "So modest. A welcome rarity among us Liches. Though I suppose it is mostly the younger ones who get into contests of stupidity to prove their 'superiority' over one another. It's just like Dalaran's Apprentices… only with grown adults." If anything his eyes seemed to dull as he finished his statement, as if realizing something. "With time to spare on their hands..."

Dalaran? I thought, the way he said it makes it sound like some form of school… Magic schools? I shivered as I felt a powerful surge of emotion echo through me. Avarice. Magical schools meant effortless knowledge, answers to questions that I have, and answers to questions I didn't even know I should have. I want it. I was fortunate that whatever revelation Kel'thuzad had kept him preoccupied for the moment, as it gave me the time to pull myself back together.

"I had at one time dedicated two months, on and off,on the Onslaught's Bane, and I did not make a modicum of progress. You managed to break it apart within a half-hour, knowing far less than I, and with less tools on hand."

The dismissive wave as he spoke about my apparent achievement... One that he self admittedly didn't put much effort into, but still made no progress on, made me worry. This conversation started looking more and more like another test. A test I was determined to pass.

I tried to put myself in his shoes; An unknown, down-on-their-luck mercenary that you picked up on a whim goes and takes out a military base that had been irritating you. While simultaneously cracking a cypher you had been working on, all without even knowing they were supposed to be able to do that. Only to discover afterwards that the mercenary never actually got the military support you assigned her in the first place.

Suddenly, that downed merc you picked up for cheap goes from 'odd' to 'absolute unknown'. Losing face was inevitable, heavily punishing a lower-ranked commander was the stick. It wasn't a set up, as before today I didn't even think it was possible for a skeleton to look scared, something I likely shared with most others. Throw in bits and pieces, portray yourself as someone who can offer much. Then reveal the carrot, dismiss your efforts and offer power... Secure the loyalty of the mercenary, earn their trust, gain their secrets.

I nodded, both inwardly to my conclusion and outwardly to Kel'Thuzad. Double-skipping my staff I redirected my Undead to start piling the rubble into the plaza, some of it likely could be recycled.

"And while there are those few that could have broken the Harbor easier. That number is limited to Arthas, myself, several of my personal household, and Anub'arak. And we have been quite busy preparing for the Living."

Accept my humble answer, and 'admit' that there are , in fact, people better than me, but then caveat that with subtle praise comparing me to - assumedly - top Generals. It was obvious horseshit, he knew it, I knew it, and we both knew the other knew it. But it wasn't something I could call out, not just because of his rank and authority over me, but also because I'm supposed to be humble and accept the praise with a deflection or denial. "You make it sound like I'm a genius or something."

"Genius?" He grinned, and laughed aloud as if some inside joke just played out. I was once again painfully stuck in a position of not knowing anything, the culture and customs. The intricacies of public relations, faction standings… I don't even know what the world looked like! For all the magic being casually thrown about, it could even be flat! He interrupted my internal panic and growing gnawing need for information."No. Talented? Specialized ? Most Certainly."

I had to ask, I didn't have the information I needed to fish for it and piece it together in the background. It was clear I couldn't ignore such attention either. "... What is it that you want, Lord Kel'Thuzad?"

"I want a great many things, as all do. What I want from you however, is another matter. You are an experiment, a gamble if you will. I find myself appreciating the results of such a bold risk, so far."

I suppose I should have expected no less of a non-answer to my question. I didn't even know him beyond this single conversation alone, and he's already coming off as someone who plays it close to the chest, with everything. "That doesn't answer my question. What do you want from me?"

"Bold." Kel'Thuzad gave a dark laugh, instantly setting me on edge even as he kept floating forward. Even with the laughter, the Lich Lord exuded nothing but amusement at my words, so I slowly calmed myself down, though kept myself wary. "Far too bold. Most would immediately accept my answer, and cower at the thought of pushing farther. Does victory go to your head so quickly? A lesson, Little One, seems to be in Order. When you go for an approach stick to it, if you wish to perform the humble underling role then your pride must be smothered in it's sleep."

I grit my teeth and swallowed the mental lump in my throat. "...Noted. Thank you, Master." I may have outplayed myself with my humble act initially, it was obvious he was going to hold me to that now. This… God, it felt like becoming a Ward all over again. A Sword of Damocles over my head, being required to act in a certain way… Why does it seem like life is becoming cyclicical?

"Now, we have idled long enough. Have you finished raising the rest of the Onslaught?" I startled at that interruption to the silence, less on the interruption and more on what was said, and what it means. Kel'thuzad skull turned to me, radiating a smugness that I had long learned to pick up on from proximity to- it didn't matter now. "Hahaha! Do not act so surprised, I have been practicing magic longer than you have been alive twice over." He waved his bony arm dismissively. "Service begets rewards, you seized this base by force of arms, and so you shall be tasked with protecting it. Let none encroach, drown them in their hubris." His burning sockets focused on me. "Lest you drown in yours."

I was left speechless, sure I was planning on seizing the place as a base of operations for myself. If only because I had thought I would just be thrown into the fire, as per usual, and be watched from a distance. Assignments came with expectations, plans, and a far, far, closer observation. I couldn't experiment being watched so closely, I couldn't show weakness to either my superiors or to my apparent peers. I felt between my Liege's comments and Chillwind's actions, that Chillwind was going to be disappointingly the trend and not the exception.

Still, being assigned this base meant I was going to be in charge of military operations in the area, at least publicly. Which, also means I'll be taking the brunt of any negatives, such as blame or assassination attempts. Joy.

"However." Kel'Thuzad once more cut into my internal monologue. "Your actions have likely earned you a window of reprieve, that is time I can use to further my studies, and possibly further yours. You will make your plan for this new territory of yours, I will come tomorrow to bring you to Naxxaramas. Dismissed."

Without any warning in the slightest Kel'Thuzad vanished in a flare of light, blinding me before I could get my bearings. When my eyes finally cleared I found myself standing in front of the cracked Cathedral doors, pushed ajar with a Ghoul seemingly waiting for me, or at the very least just standing there waiting for an order. With a pulse the Ghoul fell into step beside me, chewing relentlessly on a bone I didn't want to know where it got from, and I entered the Cathedral to finish up.

The cathedral's inside was surprisingly… not destroyed despite the broken doors leading in. If anything, it was the picture of perfect cleanliness and order, books were placed neatly on tables, carpets had not a speck of dirt… hell there were even candles with flames still going. It looked like a horde of undead hadn't just gone and rampaged through here… though that being said, I had no idea which way my undead went when they barged in.

And frankly? I didn't care so long as they finished whatever was left of the Onslaught.

Still, it was strange to see something so pristine given everything happening right now, and it made me increasingly unnerved the farther I went inside. All it took was one squad of Onslaught left behind hidden in this hallway, and I'd be killed rendering everything that I'd just been through a waste. But, much to my surprise and relief, nothing waited in the alcoves, no booby traps triggered themselves, I just kept walking through the halls until I reached another set of doors.

Considering my… 'condition', and that the doors, while normal-sized, were made of metal, I sent the Ghoul at my side to push open the door, the excitable thing gibbering as it rushed over. As it opened the door, I took a moment to examine it, something just not…

"You're the one that killed the Kvaldir by themself…"

The Ghoul turned its head just as the door creaked to a stop, tilting it to the side just like… This was either the luckiest Ghoul to exist, or just one of the most tenacious, maybe both. It didn't do much else beyond stare at me and gnaw on its bone, though I could feel at least some semblance of guiding sapience in that blank gaze.

Shaking my thoughts away, I moved past the Ghoul and into the chapel proper. I took a cursory look around, and found several pews, places to kneel, and an altar of some sorts… which had the Assassin sitting on it next to the butchered corpses of some priests. Pointedly ignoring said corpses, I focused on the woman who had noticed me immediately. She leapt off the altar, seemingly teleporting to my side in a flash of smoke and mist.

Giving a deep bow, even as I took a step back in surprise at the abrupt movement, the Assassin spoke in a rather light, yet serious tone. "The last of the workers and sermon-givers are being taken care of by Heinreich and the rest, Master." I tried to fight the flinch that came with that word's utterance, but it was still violent and very much noticeable, given that it stopped the young woman from continuing. It wasn't something that could be helped, years of social conditioning mixed into the final actions of my time among the living...

"Don't call me Master. Ever."

Without any hesitation the Assassin nodded, as if that was the most normal reply she had heard, flanking me as I kept moving towards the altar. "If that is what you wish, my Lady, it will be shared with the rest." I fought the urge to sigh… it was better than 'Master', and all the negative connotations associated with that word… but it wasn't much better.

Glancing at my 'subordinate', I tried what I hoped would work in getting her to just call me by my name, instead of some assuredly convoluted title system. "... My name is Wraith, just… call me that."

"As you wish Lady Wraith."

… My eye twitched. "Just Wraith please." Was it too much to ask for just being called by my name? I mean, sure I raised her from the dead, and actively controlled her to a degree… but I didn't want to be constantly reminded that I had a sentient being under my control. Regardless... "Anyway, why did you even start calling me Master?"

A note of joy entered the woman's voice, the first shred of emotion I had heard from her at all, aside from her execution of the Onslaught Commander. "With the death of Lord Damion and you claiming the Harbor, Lady Wraith, you are now Master of the Harbor. With you refusing to be given that title, you are now the 'Lady of the Harbor'."

… I wasn't going to get her to stop with the title was I… Great. I knew there was going to be a convoluted naming setup.

"That's… great." As I reached the altar I turned and let the Death magic pour off me, snaking through the room, watching in fascination as it burrowed into each body. They all jerked 'awake' roughly at the same time, blue fire flaring temporarily in the eyes of those I could see.

I glanced over to the Assassin, who had yet to take her eyes off me. I suppose now was as good of a time as any to see if there was a real sentience behind her eyes, or if I was just getting disturbingly good at talking to myself. "Tell me, Assassin, do you have a name?"

"Thessa, Lady Waith, just Thessa." At my prompting she elaborated, "Henrich and I were orphans before the plague, and commoners at that, last names were never something we had nor needed."

Off to a good start I suppose, I could assume that Henrich was the man she fought beside. I didn't need much explanation as to how a pair of orphans ended up joining a fanatical terrorist group. "And you have no issues with me raising your fellows?"

She jerked at that, at first I thought it was out of anger but rather it was confusion that colored her words, "My Lady…?" He irises briefly glowed blue before she relaxed, "Oh, of course not. Henrich and I were mildly ostracized, as we were promoted sub-commanders despite our lack of Faith in the Light. So long as Henrich stands by my side, I do not care."

Something was off about what just happened, but I couldn't pinpoint it. "And the rest, how will they handle their new… employment?"

"...They will handle it, My Lady."

There it was again… I pushed that discrepancy aside and turned to the Onslaught that stood patiently where they were raised, waiting for a command. I tapped my staff twice, "Go. Fetch the bodies and bring them to this room, if there are no bodies, all available are to assist in reconstruction and repair of this base." They saluted, fist over their heart, before marching out.

Handle it, I suppose they shall.

I found a good position to sit down and gave on last command to Thessa. "I will be meditating, disturb me only if the need is great."

That got a bow from her, "By your Will, Lady Wraith."

My eyes closed.

"That was quite a fun little excursion! Shame all those people had to die though."

I sighed and opened my eyes to look at her. "Is this going to be a normal thing?" I wouldn't let her commandeer the conversation this time.

She locked eyes with me, and when we did, she smirked. I could feel the smug, no, really, I could. I could feel it because she's projected the exact same smug face as- I blinked, as uh… I cradled my head, trying to picture her didn't work. Her name, what was her- Lisa! I frown, something felt wrong, was that her name? I shook my head, of course it was. Getting shot in the end must've rattled my memory a bit.

I opened my eyes- When did I close them? I opened my eyes to find Queen Administrator standing imperiously over me, frowning. "Yes?"

"You are more upset about forgetting… Lisa… Than the wholesale and brutal slaughter of several hundred humans." She began pacing back and forth in front of me, cupping her chin in her only hand, pouting all the while.

I stood up as I had enough of sitting on the ground and - literally - being looked down upon. "Your point? It was the task assigned to me by Kel'Thuzad, and it advanced your own goals as well. Is that not satisfactory?" Why was my Partner pointing these things out? Last I checked the Shards participated in repeated wholesale multi-dimensional parrellel planatary genocide. Which, actually, now that I think about it sounds incredibly impressive.

"Mhrm! I have decided!" She pointed at me, my nose specifically according to my suddenly crossed eyes. When did she get so close? How is she so quiet- Right. Mindscape. She continued, "For as long as you lack it, I shall be your 'Moral Compass'!"

That was by far the most ridiculous thing that I've ever heard. The fact that it's coming out of 'my' mouth, with 'my' voice, in such a happy manner is just… I started laughing. "What! Don't make fun of me!" She was pouting again. "I thought long and hard about this you know, as your Partner I need to help you. And while your actions were, by your odd human standards, not entirely for the best… Your heart was in the right place. So, while you suffer from a sudden complete lack of all moral and ethical guidelines you once held, I shall hold them for you."

I just looked at her with amusement, "And how exactly are you qualified to be my-" I raised my hand and made air quotations with it, "- 'Moral compass'?" You know, air quotes are a lot less mocking when you only have one hand to make them with.

She let her own single hand drop to her hip as she smiled at me. "Well that's easy, I've been recording your brain and thoughts since we started. I've already analyzed, dissected, cross-referenced, and compiled the slow progression and fine tuning that you went through in the time leading up to the final battle. Then, I organized it all using emotion readings at the times for order of importance, don't worry I cross-checked them too with your hindsight of those events."

I could only stare in growing horror as I felt violated on a level I didn't know I could have been. Which was apparently misinterpreted as she quickly rushed to… reassure me? "Oh sorry, right. The raw data might be a bit much, so I composed it into a multi-leveled tabulated bullet point list with caveats included." She nodded to herself, "And hyperlinked to the sources of course just in case you are doubtful where it came from."

I didn't have words to respond with. I wasn't exactly sure how I was supposed to respond to this. I was so outside my depth of experience at this that I nearly wanted to just say 'Thank You' and never acknowledge it again. But… "You analyzed every second of my life and all of the choices in it to create a… Moral Compass Bullet List."

She gave me a closed-eyed smile, nodding her head like she was satisfied that because I 'understood' it it means she gave me a successful explanation. She didn't- I was… I was getting massively side-tracked. Again. I refocused on her to find her still nodding her eyes closed. There was effectively a neon sign over her head that said 'Praise me!'.

My shoulders slumped, I wanted to obviously stay on my Partner's good side. It wasn't like she would know what she did was incredibly invasive, especially considering the fact that her own self-actualized mental template was apparently… me. A chill went down my spine that left me confused, I wasn't sure why I felt that was a bad thing. If anything it would let us communicate better.

Right?

I shook my head and sighed, I was getting side-tracked again. "Alright, thank you, Partner. You… clearly put a lot of effort into this, all to help me." The nodding stopped as she just basked in the light, bare-minimum praise I gave her. She still didn't open her eyes, but through our link I could feel the sheer Satisfaction from her.

I cleared my throat to gain her attention. She opened her eyes and her smile dropped a fraction. "Fine, fine. Yes, you came in to talk business and not have a nice conversation." She strode back to her throne and placed herself in it at a jaunty angle. Her face falling back into that subtle smugness that tickled the back of my brain with memories, while also seemingly not out of place on my face.

Did she… practice this? I feel like she practiced this. There was no way I could have pulled it off, and if she's drawing from me- Side-tracking again. Why can't I focus? I wanted to talk to Queen about my Liege. "Kel'Thuzad."

She raised her brow, "Yes what about this… Lich. References indicate he is some form of Undead magic-user." She snorted and shook her head at the idea, I knew where she was coming from. Shards worked on high-level reality manipulation via absurd levels of energy and extreme proficiency at foundational level understanding of the laws of reality. Magic was, simply, anathema to that understanding, yet we had seemed to be handling it well so far if Kel'Thuzad's comments proved true. She continued, "That is theoretically immortal due to an object known as a 'phylactery' that holds his… soul. A soul being the meta-physical condensation of the very concept of that person, allowing them to revive when they are killed."

Her face twisted in displeasure, as no doubt, did mine. I apparently had a soul now too, since I was seemingly revived from Death as a non-Lesser Undead regardless of what Chillwind's insults implied. What kind of distinction there was between Lesser Undead and Greater… I wasn't sure. My body was sure there was a difference but it wasn't readily giving up it's secrets.

And if I had a soul, did that mean Queen Administrator too had a soul… or did we share mine? I voiced my thoughts on that, to which she grimmly nodded. "I had thought the same Host, There should be no physical connection left yet… your soul remembers. Near the end of that final battle of ours, we overlapped quite a bit, did we not?"

We both drifted off, remembering that haze we had descended into, where I was Queen Administrator and she was Me. Eventually, I voiced my agreement. "Yes, we did, I suppose it's something to look into but... Can we not experiment on our soul until we find out all we can?"

She nodded in acquiescence, "Of course, I would never, purposely, endanger you Host." I gave her a flat look and raised my brow in response. She flushed and quickly added, "Well at least not before telling you the calculated risks first, obviously. And I will have you know, I am quite good at mathematics."

I couldn't help it, I snorted at her straight face when she delivered that line. And I had to hold back laughter when she tilted her head in confusion at me, with a bewildered expression on her face. Is it narcissistic to call a... Clone… of yourself adorable?

With a flex of Will I schooled my expression I got back on topic. "Kel'thuzad. Thoughts?"

She leaned back in her throne and cupped her chin once more, "Hrm, I agree with your earlier assessment. It was not likely staged, and he was truthful with you on you being an experiment of his. His offer of training is likely also truthful, he wants to study you, and that's all the easier if he can control your environment. The field testing was likely exactly that, to see if you were worth his time."

I nodded in agreement, if simple displeasure could invoke such degrees of fear in immortals he probably and no need for manipulation. Then I remembered Alexandria. Seemingly immortal, immense power, physically but also social and politically. She fell to me too, in the end. "Do you think Chillwind's actions were a set up?"

She pondered on that, "No, I don't think so. But… " She paused to frown, clearly unhappy with whatever conclusion she came to. "It was entirely possible if this Kel'Thuzad had control of who resurrects us, he intentionally placed us with Chillwind, knowing it would provoke some form of reaction from him. Reactions that he could later use as leverage when it came to dealing with you."

She tapped her cheek, eyes unfocused, likely running through many iterations of thought with what information we had. "Kel'Thuzad gives a command to a subordinate he knows will provoke a certain response, then places you with Chillwind , likely knowing what Chillwind would do. Giving him the opportunity to naturally reprimand Chillwind, earn a positive reputation with you, all the while moving his other subordinates around while making it seem like he had no involvement in anything that happened."

I processed that entire line of thought, it fit. Despite my feelings on the whole situation, and what I've been told, I can't help but feel like the average person - mage or not - didn't seek out Undeath in this world because they were a good guy. Especially if going Undead turns the whole world against you.

I relaxed, regardless of his manipulations Kel'Thuzad was still my Liege, and a valuable source of knowledge. I locked eyes once more with my Partner and we both nodded. "For now, yes, we shall have to entreat with him. And as he said, it seems he prefers it when you act the humble underling." She stared down at me, knowing exactly what she was asking of me.

It seems I had a new task assigned to me. "Very well, I shall endeavor to do so to my utmost abilities."

Queen Administrator gave an amused smile, "I'm sure you will."

I rose from my meditations, set on fulfilling my new task when I realized something. She had played me again! I never got to ask about the bane or the Deathbolt or the combat data or… I glanced at the two sub-commanders flanking me, having apparently decided to guard me during my meditations. Or why all the Onslaught are seemingly self-aware!

greysongarr · Apr 21, 2021

AN: The Bronze Dragonflight is Canon. The Infinite Dragonflight is us.
We have no idea what we're doing, but let's see where we head anyway.

I had no idea how long it was since my talk with my Partner. Mainly because the sun wouldn't appear through the clouds.

All I knew was it felt like an eternity passed, watching my undead put the Harborfront back together as best as they could. The Plaza and Harborfront were the two major areas that had damage, a few buildings between them were damaged or destroyed, but nothing to the same degree of those areas. And of the two, the Harborfront was in a much worse state, given it was ground zero for the Kvaldir invasion.

It was in a sense, a far lesser version of Leviathan's aftermath on Brockton Bay, with a lot less water, and far less destruction. The undead worked to clear the debris while, what I tentatively called, the 'workers' attempted to fix what was broken with the pieces of what couldn't be repaired. If I had any access to extra wood or stone, I probably could have had them go and fix everything, but as it was it was I had to make due. Then hope they could repair most of the buildings.

Flanked by Heinreich and Thessa, I had initially gone about the town looking over everything, just to ensure everything was in good condition and to get a lay of the land. The forge was operational and running, surprisingly, with several of the Onslaught workers going straight back into their work, hammering metal into whatever it was they were making. The… stables… aviary...? It was some place with animals in it, now all dead and raised, and it wasn't a stable just because of the large cage surrounding everything.

With the cursory trip done, I was led back to the Cathedral by Thessa when I questioned about resources. There I learned that the Onslaught had mostly stockpiled everything in the Cathedral, and that while the stores of metal were in a decent situation, there was no wood or stone, just a lot of food that was now worthless. Which led me back down to the plaza and Harborfront to gauge what was necessary, and what was to be torn down.

With that finished, I got slightly bored and just stopped to watch the workers in the Harborfront, casually messing around with my necromancy on the Ghoul that refused to leave my side. The results… were a semi-docile Ghoul, that quickly got aggressive when something came near. In other words, I had made a Ghoul into an Attack dog. Which was actually less useful than before, because it even growled at other Undead.

After I got tired of that, I proceeded to try and talk with Heinreich. Keyword being 'try'. The man was to the point, answering whatever I asked in the shortest manner possible, and he looked silent and stoic every moment he wasn't talking. Well… the armor and helmet wasn't helping the image since he hadn't taken it off once, but the point stood.

With that said, there was a lot of stuff to discuss with him concerning the Harbor's situation, and the 'conversation' earlier had given me some insight.

"Heinreich, what's the closest source of wood and stone that we can get to get a stockpile running?"

The Knight gave a deep, echoing hum of thought, racking his brain for a few moments before answering. "Crystalsong. Dragonblight too, more dangerous. Both good for stone." … I don't want to know why the second one was named Dragonblight of all things, and I had a sinking suspicion what might be found there, so I focused more on the first one mentioned.

"We need wood and stone, and I doubt the Onslaught will deliver it to us. So we require a force of workers and guards to go to Crystalsong…" I closed my eyes in thought, the sounds of construction oddly soothing to my mind with the crashing waves. Opening my eyes, I turned to Thessa and gave her orders to distribute to some of my undead. "Gather up some of the workers and a few soldiers to guard them. They are to head to Crystalsong as quickly as possible to get us resources."

"As you command, my Lady."

With a slight bow and light words, Thessa moved off to do her task, leaving me alone with Heinreich for the moment. There wasn't much left to talk with Heinreich, and he didn't seem intent on starting any conversation, which left a… awkward silence hanging in the air.

Without warning a resounding crack thundered through the air, instantly setting me alert and looking around, the rest of my horde following after me in looking for the sound. Heinreich's armor creaked as he turned his head, otherwise unmoving as three words were uttered. "Naxxramas has arrived."

A shadow spread over the Harbor, and only then did I look into the sky, a pit opening in my stomach at the sight of it.

I had no idea what to expect of Naxxramas when Kel'Thuzad had mentioned it before he left. For all that I knew, it could have been a floating castle, a magical island, or a flying pirate ship… I had not been expecting a giant 'pyramid' looking structure, floating leisurely in the sky yet exuding menace, malice, and slight wrongness even from the distance that it was at from me. Immediately upon finding it, my undead settled down, and returned to their work

A flash of light just in front of me got my attention from the arcane contraption above me, revealing Kel'Thuzad looking around the partially restored shipyard. Nodding, in what I assumed was satisfaction, Kel'Thuzad looked down at me, "Surprising, you listened to the spirit of the words not the letter."

I wasn't sure how to respond to that, both on a personal level and what it says about the people I am aligned with. "Is… Is that a bad thing?"

He chuckled, "Hardly. Now let us depart, lest you have any last minute orders for your burgeoning army?"

I had a sudden feeling crawl up my spine. Experience screaming at me that I had just committed some grievous error. One that was going to send things spiraling out of control. The most irritating part was that I didn't have the slightest clue what I did.The only thing I told them to do out of the ordinary was to get stone and wood from some generic fantasy named forest, which was likely in some sort of valley where stone was readily available. How could that have been a mistake?

I shook my head, ignoring the nonsensical feeling, "No, I think I'm good."

We vanished in a splash of light.

… It was going to be a while before I got used to that jarring sensation.

The feeling vanished quickly at least, followed by a renewed sense of wrongness that filled the air. Power thrummed as I looked about the chamber we were now in, the weathered stone floors and walls looked ancient… and what looked like some sort of slime oozing from the cracks. Shaking my head of the slight dizziness that persisted, I turned to Kel'Thuzad, the Lich waiting at the top of one of the four short staircases going up.

"Come along. Your teacher is not one to be kept waiting."

I blinked before moving forward, clanking metal immediately echoing my steps as Heinreich followed close behind. As soon as I was almost to the top of the stars, the Lich floated off to the right along the circular chamber before stopping outside an opening to, presumably, where my 'teacher' was. As I drew closer, I began hearing metal ringing out, shouts that I couldn't understand they were so faint, and what sounded like billowing flames.

Glancing at Kel'Thuzad, I had to wonder exactly what my training was supposed to be, given this sounded more like a factory than a place of learning. Chuckling at my look, Kel'Thuzad said nothing more, seemingly about to continue on when he spotted something behind me. "Ah, hello Mr. Bigglesworth. How goes your day?"

Meow.

"Delightful to hear, keep up the good work."

Looking behind me, I was treated to… a cat.

I'm sorry, what?

Kel'Thuzad turned back to me, his burning eyes locking me in place. "Harm him, intentionally or not, and I shall flay your very soul as slowly as possible."

"Ah, uh, understood." Right, so Rachael, but with the power level of the Triumvirate. I ignored the unsettling flutter of Interest my partner displayed, as I felt like there was a 50/50 chance that if I expressed that interest right now he would show me. With me as the example.

… Moving on. We walked through the opening and into this section seemingly themed of Kel'Thuzad's base of operations.

My first view of this portion explained the sounds I'd heard. Great skull-shaped forges with azure flames lined two of the walls, occasionally sending gouts of fire out of the mouth as skeletons scampered about with metal and… questionable things. Meanwhile, a short distance away, stood three anvils the size of cars, even more skeletons surrounding them, banging away at something.

Turning my head to the unoccupied wall, I found a mound of bones twice my height spanning nearly the half the length of the chamber. There didn't seem to be any activity there, but next to it stood some… rather disturbing machines that I was hesitant to get near. What kind of contraption required a spiked steamroller, pincers and a catapult of all things?

The skeletons didn't pause in their work, continuing their tasks as we moved through their workplace. Surprisingly, I didn't feel the least bit hot in this place nor did I feel cold, now that I thought about it, but the more I thought about it, it wouldn't make sense for an Undead to feel temperature. Which combined with a tireless nature meant they could continuously produce most things without issues or break. Truly an efficiency increase, the benefits I will no doubt have to make use of in the future.

A cacophony awaited us in the next room, shouts and clashing metal ringing out as both robed and armored figures fought one another with weapons that emanated power. Several of their number took notice of Kel'Thuzad floating past, immediately taking a knee and bowing before their liege. The Lich seemingly took no notice of them, passing by without a word as he seemingly focused on getting me straight to my 'teacher'. I expected some sort of negative reaction to that, there was none. They simply waited for him to pass by before returning to their tasks. Interesting.

Down another flight of stairs found us in what looked like an amalgamation of a massive training ground and stable, complete with training dummies, what looked like sparring pits, and a jousting ground of all things… I tried to ignore why the jousting was there, and focused on what I could see in the stables. The majority of the horses were skeletons, with some flesh and hair scattered about, encased in armor, and were attended to by a few undead that were more zombie-like than the ones I was used to.

There wasn't much else to it, seeing as they just stood there silently and patiently as the zombies did their thing, so I moved on to the rest of the training ground, pointedly ignoring the jousting ground in the middle of the stables. Even more of the armored and robed figures gathered around down here, sparring with one another in the pits, whacking the dummies or swinging their weapons through the air in mesmerizing displays of martial prowess. So engrossed in their tasks were they, that only around a dozen of the figures paid respect to their liege.

It was… strange.

We continued to move on, and as we got close to another opening, I saw a figure that was unique compared to the rest of those that I had seen so far. Armor the color of ice covered everything but his head, showing off his… unique hairstyle as he supervised four warriors in that arena. After a couple of seconds, he nodded before turning around the moment we were about to turn towards the opening, the man striding towards Kel'Thuzad with purpose in his step.

Stopping just shy of us, he gave a deep bow while crossing an arm over his chest. "My Lord. It is rare for you to come to the War Quarter. Is the Order required for something?" The Lich looked upon the still bowing man, and gave a dismissive wave.

"Your students are not yet needed Razuvious. I am merely taking a pupil to the Harvester for her lessons."

Razuvious, a mouthful of a name to be sure, straightened himself and looked at me after Kel'Thuzad's words, and in that moment he apparently found something to his liking as he gave a nod. "I see." The instructor, because what else could he be in this environment, gave a glance to Heinreich before returning his attention to Kel'Thuzad and bowing. "My Lord, the Scarlet at her side. I want to test him. It will take no time at all."

Kel'Thuzad gave a hum before looking down at me, as if expecting me to say something on the subject. I had no attachment to Heinreich, knowing his name didn't automatically make me care for his well being or safety, and - to be frank - I doubted I would ever get to the point where our relationship was anything beyond Boss and Underling. Therefore, I didn't say anything on the subject. Kel'Thuzad took my silence as the agreement that it was, turned back to the instructor, and gave a motion with his hand that I didn't quite understand. Razuvious immediately nodded his head with a smile before gesturing for Heinreich.

"Come, Scarlet. Show me the strength and endurance that got you this far."."

Heinrich made no verbal response, just marching up to the instructor with grim purpose. It was then that I realized that the sounds behind me had faded to nothing, prompting me to look back just to see what had happened. My eyes widened at the sight of most of the warriors forming a crowd behind me, all watching the instructor and Heinreich as they prepared against one another.

… I had a sinking feeling that this was going to be a, as Alec said once, a curbstomp.

The two squared up, and just as Heinrich was about to grab his shield and mace, Razuvious's voice cut through the air. "No weapons. We shall fight hand to hand. Show me your worth as a man!" Again without any response, Heinrich complied, raising his fists up as the instructor did the same.

There was no start signal from a referee or some bell that began the combat, it just happened. Heinrich charged forward, pumping a jab at Razuvious' side. But, with a seemingly lazy maneuver, Razuvious slapped the punch aside and delivered a rising counter straight into Heinrich's abdomen. I could hear the crunch of armor as it buckled under the blow, confirming my earlier feeling, as Heinrich went flying back in a heap.

A shaking hand planted itself on the ground, a foot found purchase, all while the body of Heinrich slowly rose. Shaking from the disorientation, he entered the same stance he had prior, and steadied himself before charging forward again. Once more, Razuvious waited until Heinrich swung at him - this time a hard right hook - before stepping forward and under the blow then using the momentum to drive his fist straight into my Knight's chest, sending him soaring once more.

The clattering of steel on stone as he was sent tumbling and skidding made me wince but...

One more time, Heinrich rose.

The warriors behind me started to murmur amongst themselves, for what reason I couldn't tell, nor did I pay attention. Internally I was impressed, even if he was Undead now, the sheer blunt force trauma that was being inflicted should have reduced his bones to splinters.

Letting out a roar of rage, Heinrich didn't even bother trying to get into a stance, charging straight at Razuvious with caution thrown to the wind. Just like both times prior, the instructor calmly waited until Heinrich was just about to hit him, this time reeling his fist back before crashing it straight into the Knight's head, and carrying through by slamming the armored bulk into the ground.

There was a moment of silence. Then came the sound of metal clanking and creaking. Heinrich stood again. Slowly, clearly in pain. Henrich looked more to be in a drunken stupor than merely winded or inconvenienced. His armor utterly ruined where the punches landed, steel proving to be weaker than Razuvious' Alexandria-lite like strength.

Before it could go any further, Razuvious dropped his stance, staring at the struggling Knight with respect before calmly asking. "Impressive. There have been none before who I have not personally trained capable of standing against my strength. What drives you?" Heinrich's head strained to raise itself, his voice was quiet and weak, yet still heard despite the damage inflicted on him.

"... Failed… once… Never… again…"

Razuvious nodded, before he turned his head to me, my mind freezing at his attention. "Necromancer. Heal him." I contemplated on how to do as he asked. It couldn't be a power play, Razuvious didn't know who I was or why I was important enough to be personally escorted by Kel'thuzad. The way he said it however indicated it was possible to heal with the Deathly magic. That it was common, something any Necromancer should be able to manage, or at least one of my assumed level. This time I could feel my Partner churning in the background searching for a solution, just as I could feel Kel'Thuzad's glowing eyes gaze upon me. He knew I didn't know how to heal. He knew that I could barely even be called a Necromancer.

However, I wasn't about to piss off the man who was manhandling Heinrich without any effort, even if it was in hand-to-hand combat only. When in doubt, fake it till you make it. If I didn't know how to heal, but I did know how to empower and resurrect, combine the two and make it a show. I tapped my staff twice, watching with fascination as necromantic energy leapt from my stump to Heinrich, swelling around him in a whirl of blueish-purple, resetting his bones, reforming pulped muscle and burst skin. Steel decayed where it had twisted and rent from the forces. Within moments, Heinrich was healthy and whole, for an undead.

No one said anything. Their helms hid many of their facial expressions, and Kel'thuzad had not stopped staring intently at me.

Finally, Razuvious gave me a nod. He then turned to Kel'Thuzad, who hadn't said or done anything during this entire situation, before bowing again. "My Lord. I request to be allowed to train this Scarlet." I blinked, Heinrich seemed stunned from what little I could tell of his body language, and I had to wonder exactly how just getting back up had managed to get Razuvious to want to personally train my Knight.

Kel'Thuzad chuckled before casually answering. "I see no reason not to." He looked at me, and once again I kept silent, before giving a nod. If the instructor could instill even a fraction of the strength that he showed just now, Heinrich could very well be one of the most important undead in my forces, up there with my Archers and Magi. With my permission given, Kel'Thuzad turned back to Razuvious and finished the conversation. "It is settled then. I will send several Acolytes from the Plague Quarter to ensure your training continues without delay."

… Plague Quarter? What was in that thing, and what else was in this place? And why was there an entire quarter of this structure dedicated to plagues?

Razuvious gave another bow in response. "Thank you my Lord." Directly after that, Kel'Thuzad started to move off through the opening towards where 'the Harvester' was… and wasn't that a title to have.

After walking through a rather long, winding hallway, we entered yet another chamber full of floating weapons, stacks upon stacks of equipment and what looked like living shadows wandering about. At least this made more sense to me than the jousting arena.

I calmed myself as we passed through another hallway… and entered a chamber that was vastly different from the rest. Where everything else could be linked together through the production, storage and training of martial weapons and abilities, this place was a mass of bones. As in, there wasn't a floor, just bones, a gate and fence in the middle of the room separating it into two sections, and what looked like a terrace looking over the entire place.

After a moment of looking around, I focused on the sole occupant of the room, what looked like an elderly man, wearing a skull of some creature on his head and sitting leisurely on the bones as if it was some carpet. "Lord Kel'Thuzad. A pleasure to have you here in my abode again." The old man's voice was… strange, it was cultured, yet had a harsh undertone that felt as though it was hiding something horrible. "Is this the pupil you told me about?"

I bristled, I may no- "I can see why you took interest. Her soul is on a level I have not seen of a newly-raised." Wait what? He could see my soul? What kind of magic bullshit was that? And then, I shivered. He could see my soul.

Gothik, the Harvester, could see my soul. The Harvester, who casually relaxed in a field of bones, could see my soul. I had a sudden, extremely insightful idea, that what he was a Harvester of was a trick question. Answer? It wasn't bones. I could feel my partner churn once more. Irritation. Indignation. I should have been aware that seeing a soul was a thing, after all I'm a necromancer in a high fantasy setting. I lamented that I had no basis to even start protecting my soul.

Gothik chuckled, then grunted from the effort of standing up from his seat, relying on his staff to help him up. Kel'Thuzad waited a moment before he finally replied to the old man, "This is her, the one who broke the Bane. I leave her in your care, Gothik." With those last words, Kel'Thuzad vanished in a flash of light, leaving me… relatively alone with the old man.

"While you are my pupil, you shall address me as Master. " I was about to reply to his words, giving agreement despite my ill connotations with the word when Gothik shook his head. "Hrm. No, your soul recoils at the mere mention of the word. That will not do." … I had a feeling that my time with Gothik was going to be both nerve-wracking and aggravating, and I'd only known him for all of a minute.

My thoughts finished just as Gothik gave a sigh, rubbing his face with his free hand. "I guess it cannot be helped. You will address me as Archmage." I… didn't understand his reluctance to be called that, but neither was I about to ask, especially after he had already gone away from 'master'. It was probably something political, I can't imagine anything else. Somewhat like how I was only able to be referred to as a Hero if the corrupt government approved of me.

A noise of contentment came from the Harvester, as he probably checked my soul and found myself fine with it. Or perhaps he saw my own understanding of his frustrations. Have I mentioned how much I hate the fact that my soul can just be read like a hazy neon sign? "Come along Wraith. Your first lesson will begin now." My attention snapped to him as he started walking towards the gate, the massive metal structure swinging forward with a wave of his hands. I followed after him at a sedate pace, curious and slightly apprehensive of what my 'lesson' was going to be.

Was I going to be ripping someone's soul out of their body and torturing it for power? Or was it something more simple as killing a group of cultists and raising their corpses like with my magi? Maybe raising some great beast or Hero for Gothik. So many possibilities that cou-

Without any warning Gothik spoke, startling me from my thoughts as we reached the center of the room. "A simple lesson to start. Your achievements with Necromancy may be impressive, but that tells me nothing." With a wave of his hand, bones shifted and rattled, flying together to form a skeleton that clattered to a stop. "Make one skeleton, and we will start the lesson."

Slightly confused as to where this was going, I did as he said, tapping my staff twice against the bone mound I was standing on and letting necromantic magic course out. Within a few seconds bones came flying to make a… much bigger skeleton than the one the Harvester had made. With horns. Somehow. "A Tauren. Your instincts are sound. Now then." Without warning Gothik's skeleton stepped forward and swung its fist. Given the size disparity, I assumed that my 'Tauren' skeleton would survive the blow without issue.

I was wrong.

My skeleton went flying in pieces across the mound, what few bones I kept track of were splintered and cracked. "Put it back together." Still surprised at how easily the smaller skeleton had pulverized the larger, I took a moment before doing as he asked, energy leaping out to pull the corpse back together, reknitting the marrow to its former state.

"Mmm."

With that noise, Gothik's skeleton shattered mine again, prompting me to look at him confused. What was the purpose of this 'lesson', and why did he ask for me to remake that skeleton only to immediately break it? "Archmage… what was the purpose of this?"

"Quite simple. It was a test that told me what level you were at."

How did making a skeleton… and then having it blown apart before remaking it, constitute being a test?

"Your instincts and power are impressive, if oddly disproportionate, especially for one so young." I sense a 'but' coming. Never had I heard one of these compliments without something being wrong, and I was proven correct not a second later. "However, you rely solely on those instincts. You lack the knowledge to use that power efficiently, and waste it unnecessarily." He gave me a grim smile, eyes like twin spikes rooting me in place with how they pierced through and dissected me. "And yet you don't even know it. With your ability to channel so much magic, it's barely even a drop."

Okay. I could understand where he got that from… and to be fair, I was pretty sure any knowledge about magic was necessary to do anything beyond the bare basics that I had been doing. That said… "How will I be getting this knowledge, Archmage?"

He gave a chuckle, one that instantly filled me with dread and quickly reassembled the 'Tauren' skeleton in front of me. My heart sank as multiple regular-sized skeletons rose from the mound, surrounding me and my own skeleton. "I much prefer this method over books. You may only use that skeleton in this lesson, and your goal is to destroy the others using only your skeleton." That didn't seem- "They will be trying to kill you by the way." He gave another, surprisingly light-hearted, chuckle, completely at odds with the scenario he put me in. Ah, of course, there it is.

I didn't even have time to curse him for this before the skeletons began swarming me. My skeleton tried its best, smashing two into bones before I had to duck and dodge out of the way of the other skeletons attempting to murder me.

"Oh, don't worry about staying dead. I will raise you if you do fall so that your lessons may continue. After I get a better look at your soul of course."

I hated him. My head whipped back as a skeleton managed a straight, right into my nose. So much.

That first lesson… did not end too well. Which was unsurprising given the circumstances.

There were roughly a dozen skeletons, against my own skeleton and myself, and I was ordered to use only the skeleton to attack. Given that I had no idea what to do, I settled for just living through the experience and kept running from the skeletons trying to kill me. After what I believed was several minutes the skeletons stopped and I was treated to a sighing Gothik.

"You completely abandoned your skeleton." The disappointment in Gothik's tone made me wince. What better way to start off a relationship than to utterly disappoint your mentor. "Even an acolyte of the two fools can grasp such a simple lesson."

I bristled at the dismissal and bit back with a heated reply. "Maybe I'd have done better if you'd actually told me what I'm supposed to be doing!" His staff clacked against the bones, matching his step as he moved off to the side.

"What you are 'supposed to be doing'." He lowly growled, "Is using your skeleton to break my own while protecting yourself. What I said minutes ago is all there is to this lesson." Not once did he raise his voice, and yet I could feel the frustration of the man at what he probably thought was a lack of… something.

"Well obviously I am missing something then! Your skeletons are stronger, tougher and faster than mine was, and yours were all smaller!" Yet here he was dismissing me. I'm not sure how much or what Kel'thuzad told him precisely, or even if he told Gothik anything beyond 'Train Her'. Clearly what I was expecting and what Gothik was expecting out of this were two radically different things.

He paused and narrowed his eyes, something I said had apparently clicked in his mind."Tell me Wraith. How much do you know of the art of Necromancy?"

I paused, unsure of what exactly I was supposed to tell him. Was this why my Partner kept preventing me from asking my questions? "I know how to raise the dead, command them, and throw a bolt of magic."

He looked at me incredulously. As if I had just told him that the sky was yellow and the only way to move forward was sprinting. "... I am simultaneously impressed and disappointed that you lack any of the basics in the Art." He rubbed his face, he apparently had assumed, from either what he was told or by the sheer fact I was here on recommendation from my Liege, that I was some rising-star wizard."An Acolyte doesn't learn how to raise an undead until they master the basic two spells of Necromancy. Those two spells are Reconstruction, and Reinforcement. Both are the building blocks of Necromancy alongside Raising."

With a whisper of power he commanded the bone beneath him to form a mound to sit on. "The Raising of Undead is a taxing and strenuous process for even most adepts, which is why Acolytes perform it in a multi-person ritual to share the burden. On top of that various spells will 'infect' the target with Death and Decay magics making them easier to raise. Once an undead has been raised, it must be bound to the will of a Necromancer to properly direct it, this process also makes them easier to reform - damage depending."

I stood, internally taking notes, as apparently I had missed a lot from second zero. Taking everything for granted as I did between my Partner and foolishly treating magic like it operated similar to powers did back on Earth Bet. "Yeah, I noticed that when I was fighting the Kvaldir at Onslaught Harbor. They purposely used heavy overkill strikes to permanently destroy my Ghouls."

Gothik was going to continue, but I watched his face morph from uninterested to focused as my words sank in. "Kvaldir you say? Interesting… Tell me, what level of damage could you restore from?"

I thought about it for a moment, trying to recall if there was any form of consistent cut-off point where I insticutally knew I couldn't reanimate them from the damage sustained. "Annihilation of body parts, torsos and head pulverization."

He blinked in astonishment. He opened and closed his mouth multiple times, before eventually giving up and settled on worrying his beard. "That is… I had vastly underestimated your skill and channeling ability. Very well, I'll have to reorganize my plans, now that you are my apprentice I shall not have you poorly representing me."

Oh. Fantastic, so I was a significant outlier then, in a political landscape composed of magic casters who far outstripped my knowledge, who simultaneously acted like children. I'm sure this won't cause me problems. Thanks, Partner, you give me the nicest of gifts.

Satisfaction.

The first actual lesson I had was more along the lines that I expected when I thought about magic training. Throwing around bolts of magic at suitable targets. Meaning the skeletons that tried killing me.

It was very satisfying.

In the midst of this entire lesson, Gothik stood off to the side, watching as I shot a Deathbolt into each skeleton he raised from the bones beneath us. I didn't have too much of a comprehension of what this lesson was about, beyond Gothik learning more about what I was capable of, but I took to it with relish after the clusterfuck earlier. It might have been my imagination but it felt like with each Deathbolt it was getting infinitesimally better.

Eventually, the skeletons stopped being raised and a feeling of contentment settled on me, Gothik's voice drawing my attention to the elderly man. "That's enough Wraith. You certainly don't lack for mana, and I have a more accurate approximation of your skills." He started to walk around, staff tapping against the bones with hollow thuds as he did. "Can you explain how you are casting those bolts? For a rather long time Necromantic magic has been heavily limited with direct damage, having to rely on decay and circuitous effects to achieve similar results."

Explain my Deathbolts? I blanked on the exact maths behind it, but the concept was simple, how had they not figured it out yet? "I just… focus. The magic gathers and then I fire it." I hadn't actually thought about how I did that, beyond my Partner letting me. It was hard to explain beyond just calling it instinct and leaving it at that.

Gothik gave a hum, stroking his beard as he started muttering to himself, too low for me to hear before he shook his head slowly. "Your Deathbolt is a taxing spell, one that most necromancers, all acolytes, and even a fair portion of liches are unable to perform. And yet, you sling it around as if it's a simple fireball. Curious. Very curious." … I got the feeling from his tone that his interest in dissecting me had gone up even more… At least I knew Deathbolt was the actual name now.

"Perhaps you are as gifted as the Pro- No." He shook his head with a sigh before continuing pacing about, eventually coming to a stop and turning to me. "Hrm, have you been able to do anything… special, with your Deathbolt?"

Special? I didn't really understand what he meant by that. Did he mean adding additional effects, or having it do something weird in transit, or something else entirely? Regardless, I was certain that 'making it bigger and more dangerous' was not the answer he was looking for. My lack of understanding seemed to be evident, as Gothik took it in stride and continued.

"I see." With a gesture of his hand, he raised a score of skeletons effortlessly. With another he formed an orb of necrotic energy that rapidly separated and flew into each skeleton present, blasting them apart with ease. "The simplest variation of more 'traditional' spells, so to speak, is the volley. It is a spell-variation that uses a single cast to send multiple projectiles at targets. Faerlina knows more of the intricacies of the variation, but she's also completely unhinged with her doses of, ah, 'alchemical' assistance."

The pause made me immediately suspect that whatever it was this 'Faerlina' used, it wasn't something that was normal, even to a fantasy world. Naturally, I didn't comment on it, and tried to push away any thoughts that cropped up about that, focusing on what he had said about 'volley'.

I barely paid attention to the skeletons that rose from the mound yet again, focusing on what he said and how he described it. I needed to make a single bolt into multiple bolts. My immediate thought, which I put into practice, was just putting in more energy into the bolt and then willing it to scatter into the horde.

It fired. It hit exactly one skeleton and exploded in a miasma of Death Magic as thick as Grue's fog, decaying it so finely that I didn't even see dust. That… did not work. I mean, it worked, very well, as some of the skeletons who had been near were bit by the edges of the fog - and took significant damage from the contact - but not in the direction I wanted it to. The skeletons had halted in their tracks.

"That was, ah, unexpected." Gotik peered curiously at me. "Explain your thought process." Some choice muttering had followed, but it was about 'structure' and 'equivalence relation'.

"Well, I tried to make the projectile split and scatter into the horde... " I trailed off, unsure of what to make of the contemplative look on my mentor's face. I started to see my own flaw in that line of thought as I told him, I tried to think of the bolt as a singular thing, that then turned into multiple pieces to scatter around into the horde, but death wasn't a physical thing, it was a concept. The scattering occurred, but it turned into a fog instead of multiple projectiles.

Suddenly, Gothik finished his own muttering and asked, "Like a blunderbuss? Or some form of extended fuse bomb? Hrm, a scattershot variant… energy requirements… Hrm... Timing would be important but if…"

I realized that I was going about it the wrong way. Gothik said cast, not projectile. A singular gathering of energy, producing multiple sequential bolts. But… did it have to be sequential? That was an interpretive definition of volley, since one mage could hardly be expected to manage multiple projectiles simultaneously, probably. However, I wasn't a normal mage, and my Partner was not even normal amongst her own kind.

I gathered the magic around my raised staff with a purpose, imagining the globe of energy to produce a bolt for each skeleton still standing around. Once I felt that instinctual threshold reached for what I wanted it to happen, I slammed the stave on the ground as multiple Deathbolts formed from the orb and shot out with precision, taking all the skeletons out simultaneously.

Gothik snapped out of his mutterings and musings as the Deathbolts had fired out, watching with fascination as the volley fired spell wiped out the horde in seconds. He gave me a wide grin, the gleam in his eyes spoke of suffering, but luckily not for me. "Very good, Apprentice, very good indeed…"

My opinion of Gothik was constantly changing ever since my first 'lessons'.

On one hand, he was a rather… unorthodox teacher, who enjoyed dropping me headfirst into lessons I was pretty sure were just elaborate excuses to get me killed so he could 'study my soul'. On the other though… it certainly made for good motivation to understand what the hell I needed to do, and understand quickly. I had a feeling that he would be more akin to a four year old, with a magnifying glass and the sun high in the sky. Not even mentioning that, compared to the other three quarters… my time in the War Quarter was the most productive.

The other three quarters of Naxxramas were, in the order I visited them, the Plague Quarter, the Arachnid Quarter, and the Construct Quarter. Most of my time in those other quarters were spent under lessons that couldn't be done within the Harvester's chamber, such as a demonstration of how Ghouls interacted with 'the plague'. They were… more supplementary lessons than anything. Never boring, but less addictive than discovering more about the direct applications and complexities of the deathly magic I wielded.

Gothik… didn't have the best of moods when we went there. And given the shouting that I heard over the vats of bubbling… liquid? … Yeah, I could understand his lack of normal good-nature while we were in the Plague Quarter. I didn't even understand what they were saying and they annoyed me!

His words as we left… didn't shed too much light on who they were, so much as the Archmage's relation with them. "Damnable fools. It is a wonder they haven't killed one another with their bickering. Still the same apprentices from Dalaran twenty years ago."

Ah, politics and less-than-stellar juniors. Two things I was frustratingly familiar with. Gothik grumbled, "And there you go again. Understanding and commiseration. Your soul is as much of a conundrum as your history is." His comments were slung in such a way that it felt like he was talking of the weather. As we roamed the halls, being passed by other sentients.

It was then I realized I never had a chance in the first place, and learned how much of an open book I was. "Kel says he found you adrift in the Twisting Nether, no telling how long you had been in there. Somehow, avoiding annihilation even while non-responsive… "

I settled my emotions, tried to not let my Interest spike through, tried to be just as nonchalant in my response. "Oh?"

I failed, if the amused 'hrmm' I got in response meant what I think it did. Fortunately, I suppose, he continued, "Your soul is old, oh so old. And even more fascinating, etched and swollen with Death. More death than I, or even the great Kel'Thuzad himself, could ever achieve no doubt." I felt heavy, as if the weight of my sins crawled down my back.

The trip wasn't whatever I thought it was. It was meant to test me and my reactions. My reactions, like not being able to understand a near universally understood language.

"Lucky for you, I am averse to sharing such a fascinating discovery. Not until I have plundered the depths for secrets." He grinned, I couldn't see his grin but I could feel the cruelty in it. "Lucky for me no one has noticed just how off you are. And, that you have no choice but to listen to me to cover it up. After all, not all are as… patient as I am. For now."

I bit back a curse and struggled to hold back on our Rage at being forced to do anything. In the end he was right. My Liege held back as long as I produced interesting results. Archmage Gothik held back as long as he was the one who could fish up bits from the depths of my soul. I knew so little about the world and the magic in it, but I wasn't naive or foolish enough to believe that either of them were anywhere near the top of the magical food chain, or that I could protect myself from everything.

It wasn't the first conversation that we had that left me bitter, or struggling to recollect my scattered chips, and it wouldn't be the last.

The Arachnid Quarter was the only place in Naxxramas where I felt I was unwelcome, not helped by the… 'spider-men' staring at me from every direction. Thankfully, Archmage Gothik had only one lesson that was to be done there, which was largely just an identification lesson on the 'Nerubian race'. It was informative, even if uncomfortable given that the Nerubians just... stared warily at me the entire time.

My affinity with bugs was not present anymore. Who could have guessed it.

Still could have done without the constant muttering, just at the edges of my hearing. I could never find any proof they were the ones muttering, but who else could it be?

Of the four Quarters, the Construct Quarter was the most… 'interesting'. If Bonesaw had an actual workshop instead of wandering around with the Slaughterhouse, this place would probably be the most accurate description. I was actually glad that I had seen Bonesaw's creations, it made this place more bearable.

I felt like I should be worried about something, but since I couldn't place it I brushed it off.

My lessons here amounted to what Gothik called, 'The Art of Fleshcrafting'. Which was a more 'refined' version of what I did with the Skeletal Soldiers that had been crippled. As if anyone could call cobbling together various corpses into an amalgamation of putrid flesh an art. Regardless, my task there was to help the actual 'Fleshworkers' out by bringing materials over and helping animate the unholy undead creation. With my vast pool to call on and channel, work that could have taken hours and a dozen Acolytes… took no more than a scant few minutes. There was an immense well of Pride as the disparity between I and my peers was revealed to me. Gothik was also treated to the sight of how rapidly my Partner, not that he knew, could process, adapt, and refine my efficacy with the deathly magic one she had a foundation.

It was an interesting experience, regardless of the disgusting and disturbing things I did. As the rather massive creature slid off the operating table only to gurgle like a little child, I was already thinking of various other things I could do from Fleshcrafting. Just from the looks of things, Kel'Thuzad's 'Fleshworkers' focused more on creating combat-worthy creations, just watching the hulking Abomination leave was evidence enough. But…

I could think of several other potential creations from Fleshcrafting, but I needed both knowledge on the subject, and an actual base of operations set up before I could start 'experimenting'. Onslaught Harbor could be used, but it was worryingly exposed to invasions. My research cannot be disturbed by any Brute, aspiring Hero, or jealous Necromancer. I needed more secure territory, or territory that no one would expect...

It was on the fifty-something lesson with the Archmage that I wondered exactly how long I had been here. For all that Archmage Gothik was an old man, he never appeared tired and was constantly throwing lessons at me with very little in the way of rest, and so my one way to know time through a living being failed right then and there.

In a way though, I never really worried about the time spent here. Sure this… Necropolis had an unsettling air in it, but I was learning far more than I would have if I had just stayed in Onslaught Harbor.

…

Hrm, I should probably rename that when I fix and upgrade it now that I think about it. Anyway, I was learning more here than I would on my own, and they were good lessons, even with the initial mess.

All 'good things', as if my time in here could be considered that, must come to an end however, as I learned with this final lesson.

"This will be our last lesson for a time, Apprentice. Naxxramas has been called to reinforce Angrathar at the Lich King's order." I had no idea where 'Angrathar' was, but I assumed it was a long distance away given this was my last lesson.

Gothik looked over at me, and I thought there was a bit of pride in his eye, at least for a moment. "You have been an adequate Apprentice. Far better than Noth and Heigan were." He huffed, "A pity that our time was so short, you grasped concepts and applications at a speed that even I could be envious of."

A cruel smile spread across his face, "My gift to you, your last lesson will be upon my… favored subject."

…

That wasn't ominous at all.

"Thank you Archmage." For all that the Harvester threw lesson after lesson at me, with some being off putting and irritating like with Fleshcrafting, they were all useful for a Necromancer. It was simply better to be thankful, and obviously remember those lessons vidily so I never have to perform them again. Not even mentioning that I was certain that the favored art was just another stepping stone like most of what he had taught me.

There was no more conversation as the bones of the Harvester's chamber shifted and tumbled into a ramp to the upper balcony, Archmage Gothik steadily climbing up as I followed a short distance behind. Around the corner to the right we went through a door into a small chamber, circular and with blue fires illuminating the stone, and in the middle of it…

Were two 'humanoid' creatures.

I had known that there were other races beyond simply Humans, my magi were proof enough that this wasn't just the typical 'Human, Dwarf, Elf' races from most fantasy novels. One of the figures looked like an elf, lithe, beautiful and almost certainly graceful, even if the ears were unnaturally long and her skin was… purple… and very much revealed. My eyes raked her figure, her toned muscle, her defiant posture, and the shining silver eyes. 'Knockout' wasn't barely an adequate definition. If I was living I would have sucked in a breath. If I was living, no doubt Lisa would have made a joke about how I couldn't take my eyes off her. If I was living. But I was not, that part of me shriveled away, those emotions neutered. Lisa dead or so far away she might as well be. So, I moved on. The pang of guilt or sadness I knew I should have felt, absent.

A complete and utter opposite to the 'elf' met my gaze, burly and green-skinned with scars covering what little skin was actually shown. Thick corded muscles composed his body… but amusingly enough he was noticeably shorter than the 'elf'. My mind immediately declared that this was an orc of some kind, just based off of what I'd read, but I was cautious to call it one aloud without Archmage Gothik telling me it was. For all I knew, a Human was called an Argonius or whatever it was Veder had spouted a lifetime ago from his games.

Regardless of what they were, they were bound and held aloft in what I assumed were enchantments and chains, their thoughts undoubtedly clouded as their eyes shared a dullness to them that screamed fantasy Master-like influences. Archmage Gothik walked over to them with his staff clacking away, startling the two 'prisoners into consciousness.

Only then did the Harvester begin the lesson.

"My favored subject is one that took many, many years of research to reach." The 'orc' grunted and snarled, flexing his muscles in a vain attempt to struggle, of course to no avail, against the magical bondage while the 'elf' stayed stock still, their eyes glowing with an intensity that wasn't present before somehow. I suspect she justifiably feared what Gothik had planned. I would have myself had I not been the one being taught, as after all, the idea that an apprentice would be doing something to you was shudder worthy. So many mistakes, inefficiencies! "I have the Horde to thank back during the First and Second Wars for showing me this field. A shame their methods were so… crude."

If anything, the 'orc' redoubled his efforts, growling and shaking as Gothik came closer, continuing the lecture. "With Kel'Thuzad's aid, when he was still mortal, I continued and created a more… refined method." With nothing else said, Gothik held his hand out to the 'orc' as a ghastly green glow emanated from his hand.

I saw little of what happened, it happened far too fast for me to catch it, but I was certain that it was going to be a far more difficult task than the rest that Archmage Gothik had given me. One moment the 'orc' was struggling to get out of his bindings, the next he was slumped over, and there was a wispy… thing in the Harvester's hand. I had a moment before realizing what it was before he crushed it in his hand, invigorated and chuckling merrily.

He turned to me and continued the lesson, a glint in his eyes that made me very uncomfortable. "A soul is useful in many things. Information, power, sustenance. Such things are but the tip of what is possible." A smile, manic and unhinged matched Archmage Gothik's eyes as he strode behind the 'elf' with a little more vigor than I had seen since meeting him. "The first step to gaining access to souls, is to learn how to rip them out."

The 'elf' remained still as I approached her, trembling in fear while her eyes teared up. She looked young, though for an 'elf' that meant anywhere from fifteen years, to over ten thousand years old if going by the classics, but I was inclined to state that she was nearer to my actual age, just based on how she was acting. It made me remember the first times I faced my mortality with only mere insects at my beck and call, times that were so long ago now.

I didn't know anything about her, her people, or any other things in this world beyond that I was a Necromancer. Just from what little I gathered, Necromancy was reviled by those outside this 'Kingdom', and just for being an undead I would be executed for simply existing. It didn't matter if this was a Paragon of Virtue, a Hero of the highest order or a Savior of an entire nation.

I wanted to live. And my existence was anathema to peace and understanding. Maligned once more to the greater public, for simply being bestowed powers that I had no control over picking. What was the saying? The more things change the more they stay the same.

"This is not as simple as-" I tuned out the Harvester as I raised what remained of my right arm forward. Anticipation. Ripping out a soul was not the same thing as killing a person, that was obvious. It killed them sure, but one was more… specific. My Partner ran the gamut of necromantic magic manipulation, I had the will and idea of what I wanted. Even if I couldn't grasp the standardized and refined spell… Well Gothik himself said my pool would be coveted. From what I understood, it was similar to raising a corpse, only instead of animating the corpse and inserting the soul, I was flooding the living body and removing the soul. .

That was the most I understood of the process when Archmage Gothik had given me a lesson earlier. I was certain my Partner understood it far more than I did, and would get it done on the first try. After all, we understood the world on a far more fundamental level than my colleagues could. From my subtle observations, none had even thought that you could kill ice or any other revelations I had. Of course I didn't enlighten them, beyond that I couldn't even speak to them, there was no point in strengthening people who could end up my political enemies. It would also be an exceedingly convincing bait for the future to recruit more to my banner.

Sickly green and deep violet mixed together as my magic lashed out and into the 'elf'. Immediately the woman let out a death wail, thrashing against the bindings as the Harvester turned and watched my progress. I felt my magic dig deep into the screaming 'elf' before wrapping around and sinking into something that immediately felt important.

She screamed louder as I tightened my hold, hurting my ears and making me grimace at the annoyance. As soon as I was certain I had hold of it, I pulled.

The 'elf' jerked back, a fully-formed silhouette of her ripped from her body and flying into my 'hand', at which point I tightened the hold. She struggled in my grip as my partner continued lashing necromantic energy into the soul, babbling about some 'Elune' and something about Priestesses. Slowly her movements slowed to stop and the hand dissipated, leaving a floating 'elf' looking down at me. An unsettling look in her eyes.

"Impressive. Most impressive." I looked over to Archmage Gothik at his words, finding him practically beaming beneath his beard in the wake of my… 'lesson'. It was… unnerving. "Creating a ghost from ripping out a soul is quite difficult, I've managed it only a few times. It speaks volumes of your prowess… or of that Sentinel's soul. Hrm, even Arthas required the Fel-forged runeblade Frostmourne to pull it off."

I didn't know how to respond to that, so I just kept quiet, the Ghost turned her head at the sound but otherwise didn't say a word, which prompted Gothik to continue. "How I wish I had more time to teach you Apprentice. You have an aptitude for our craft beyond even a Elder Lich's, and it would be a pleasure to continue your education. A shame I never got a chance to peer into your soul in depth though."

He sighed wistfully, but shooed me off with a wave of his hand. "Naxxramas leaves in a half-hour. Collect your Knight and head back to your harbor. We will meet again." And with those last words, Gothik the Harvester left the chamber, seemingly younger than he had left it.

I took a moment to ensure the 'elf' ghost was following me, which she seemed content to, judging by her expression… which didn't give me warm feelings on what my partner had done to the 'elf'. A person doesn't go from 'screaming bloody murder' to happy and content without a Master effect, or if her jumbled words could be of any indication, something relgious... Regret. Hrm, I tasted the emotion. It was muted, and it felt like not even my Partner could muster enough effort to actually feel it herself. I suppose she was trying to follow up on her earlier statement on being my moral compass.

Once I was certain she was going to follow, I retraced my steps from when I first came through the War Quarter. The hall of floating weapons and shades passed without issue, though the weapons did 'stand' at attention as I passed by. Through the hallways further I walked, all the way until I reached the training ground for the Death Knights.

Heinreich was where he had been the entire time, getting his ass kicked around by the Instructor, though they had finally graduated to using weapons by the sound of it. I clanged my staff twice into the floor, the sound reverberating through the small area around me -a basic Arcane trick that left me craving more - and gaining the attention of the acolytes and disciples watching the fight between the two. This in turn, got the attention of my Knight clad in his new black-blue armor, and his Instructor.

They separated from one another, the Instructor giving a nod of his head right before Heinreich bowed in thanks, stepping away and back to my side for the first time since we came here. I gave a nod of acknowledgement and respect to the Death Knight, receiving one in turn before he got back to training his disciples, and then we left. You never knew what even the slightest bits of acknowledgement could pay off in the end.

I traveled past the rest of training Death Knights, through the stables and into the upper training ground, passing by the siegesmiths and metalworkers and their great forge. My mind wasn't on the journey to the entrance of the Necropolis, nor on how Heinreich had 'grown' or even on the 'elf' I had now. No, my mind was focused on how I was going to get down from here.

I hoped that I didn't have to jump off into the waters around the harbor, or even worse into the frozen earth, but unless Kel'Thuzad had something planned for me, that was probably my only option. Thankfully I didn't have to worry about anything, as the Lich Lord was waiting in the circular chamber, either waiting for me, or supervising the traffic of acolytes and undead running about. I was inclined to believe it was the latter, but I didn't and wouldn't know. My Liege had shown me extreme amounts of favoritism so far, he seemed the kind of person to multitask when possible, all while incurring small debts from many along the way.

Politics. Even Undead in a fantasy realm far from my origin planet I seemed to be unable to fully escape it.

The trip down was quick, uneventful and thankfully sparse in conversation, which made sense given Kel'Thuzad had more tasks to supervise in the time remaining. This was fine, even if I was certain Kel'Thuzad was purposefully helping me with the purpose of gaining a rapport with met, as I was more concerned about my Harbor.

As soon as I was walking the frozen earth again, Thessa seemingly materialized at my side without a sound, a quick "My Lady." and a bow started the debriefing of what had happened since I had left.

"The Harborfront has been reconstructed to the best of our ability, and basic defenses have been made in the event of another attack. It won't last against most threats, but a delay is a delay." She stopped as a few of my Knights went, wearing plate armor similar to Heinreich. I looked over at Thessa, who immediately gave an answer to my unspoken question. "There was a shipment of weapons and armor sent down from the Necropolis. I don't know the reason why."

I looked over at Heinrich, since he was the only other possible reason for that shipment beyond something I had done accidentally. He returned my look with a shrug and two words were uttered from beneath that helm. "Impressed Instructor." With those… enlightening words, I supposed that it made sense, even if it could have been expanded on. Or explained to me. Frankly, I just wanted to be notified but I suppose I wasn't high enough on the hierarchy yet to warrant anyone actually caring about me and my opinions.

Thessa continued shortly after, moving on without much prompting. "The scouts and a few workers were sent by Gryphon to scout out a suitable place to extract resources. They arrived about an hour before you returned and have given their report of the area. It is… undesirable."

"Undesirable?" We were Undead there was very little that proved 'Undesirable' or 'Inhospitable' to us.

Thessa shrugged, and I felt a bit of annoyance creep in before I buried it. It wouldn't help to get annoyed with the messenger after all. "The scouts said something about 'aggressive trees' and 'crystal-women'. Naturally, I have zero way to confirm this information my Lady." … Nature spirits? I had to deal with nature spirits to get my stone and wood? High fantasy. Sometimes I loathe you.

Great, just great. I'd have to go and deal with that before I could fix my resource shortage, and that'd take a long ass ti-

Wait a minute… Thessa said the guards and workers went on Gryphons, meaning they went in a straight line flying presumably… And it took some amount of days for them to get there and back, if my internal clock worked right… That was going to be one hell of a trip to get those supplies from there to here. If only teleportation wasn't so advanced, even if I was sure Partner could handle it easily. It, unfortunately, was a red flag for me to advance too quickly in too many subjects, being a savant cum highly attuned to Death has covered my tracks so far. Thank you, Gothik.

I sighed before shelving that information for the moment, I could meet with my 'scouting party' later when I was settled and ready for whatever was going to happen. For now though, I wanted to recuperate just a moment from my nearly non-stop lessons.

So, I led my attendants through the streets back to the Cathedral, passing by undead milling between buildings doing mundane tasks, while the Onslaught patrolled the streets. What few Onslaught passed by gave a nod of respect as I walked past, a smile blossoming on me before it faded with the reminder that they were bound to my will. No matter how they acted, they were no better than my bugs a lifetime ago. No, that wasn't quite right either. I didn't make them smile at me, but they did. Yet at the same time, I just knew I could order them to do near about anything and there wouldn't even be hesitation. A conundrum for another time I suppose.

The steps up to the Cathedral came and passed quickly, and soon enough I was within the chapel I rested in, and considered 'my room'. With a wave of my staff and a look, both Heinrich and Thessa left me with a bow, off to do… whatever it was they did while I wasn't giving an order, leaving me with the Ghost of the 'elf' I ripped out.

Her content face never wavered as I turned to her, unnerving me as she dropped to the floor, rising to her full height with a sparkle in her eye. I was… curious about what she was, but I needed to put that aside for some more pressing information. With a moment of deliberation, I asked a simple enough question. "What is your name?"

She seemed to concentrate on it, closing her eyes and tilting her head just enough to seem serene, which unnerved me even more. "I had a name. I have none now. Elune saw fit to strip me of my name after showing me the truth, Avatar." Her voice was a haunting, melodic echo, one that was as completely serene as her expression, and made me question what my Partner did to her.

Sheepish. Apology.

That wasn't what I wanted for an answer though, either answer, as I still had nothing to call the 'elf' beyond 'Elf'... and that didn't leave the best impressions, even if I doubted she would take it terribly given the, ah, implied devotion. Still, I pressed on, in the hopes of getting something out of this conversation beyond cryptic stuff. Like 'Elune' and 'Avatar of Elune'. "I see." Not really. "... Tell me of this world's races."

She beamed, opening far too bright eyes for her condition and eagerly answering my question. "There are many who call this cradle their home, Avatar. The sons and daughters of Ursoc and Ursol, the Furbolg. The firstborn who retook the world from the Dark, the Trolls. The children of Elune and the inheritors of the firstborn, the Kaldorei. The sons of stone and metal, the Dwarves, Gnomes, and Humans." Wait what? Humans were descended from earth? How? Why?

Oblivious of my internal freak out, the Kaldorei , at least I assumed she was since she mentioned Elune, continued with her 'explanation', as if this explained anything. "There's the adopted children of Cenarius, the Tauren." One that I actually knew! At least roughly. Bull-men or something similar, like a Minotaur. "The small Goblins of the ocean islands-"

"Okay, that's enough." With a happy nod she fell silent, waiting for me to ask her of something else. I seriously considered not, just because I understood absolutely nothing of what she was talking about, and it honestly left me more confused than when I asked her the question. The Dark? The Furbolg? Inheritors of the Firstborn? Sons of stone and metal? They all sound like wildly different creation theories from different religions just mashed together! Do they just accept that each race has their own origin separate from others? I want to dismiss it but, high fantasy…

But… the need for information overwhelmed my reluctance and I asked a hopefully less confusing question. "What about factions in this world, and those that compose them?"

At some point during my deliberation on continuing, the Kaldorei had knelt down and started sitting on her legs, somehow, still happily looking at me the entire time with a smile. She tilted her head to the side, cupping her face with a hand and answered with that haunting echo. "There are two major factions in the world, Avatar. There is the Horde, composed of the Tauren, the outcasts of the firstborn's empire, the children of another world, the Kaldorei's distant cousins and the Forsaken."

"There is also the Alliance. Three of the children of stone and earth bound together alongside the exiled ones and the Kaldorei. The two are in a state of warfare with one another, resources and territory are vital for both after all." I was… concerned that these were the major factions, since they both seemed to be composed of a lot of creatures on each side, and whatever one I was part of wasn't mentioned alongside them… Though I could guess as to why, it would just be that. A guess.

"And any others?"

She giggled, which sent all the wrong emotions spiraling in my head, and continually enforced that my Partner did something horribly wrong to this woman. "Just behind them is the Scourge, a weapon that turned on its masters at the end, and the ones I was sent to keep tabs on. The Lich King woke and sent a plague upon the living. Elune and her Avatar knows what comes."

That explained why Kel'Thuzad was preparing for war.

The Kaldorei continued without a pause, eyes continuing to shine as she spoke. "There are two other factions traveling together to the Frozen North, the Argents and the Ebon Blade. I know little of the Ebon Blade, Avatar, but the Argent are a conglomeration of Paladins seeking to destroy the Lich King and all under his banner, and have declared a Holy Crusade upon the Scourge." Disappointing. Yet wholly unsurprising

She didn't say anymore, making me assume that, either there were more factions and she didn't know them, which was more likely, or that was all there was in this world. Regardless of that, there was one last question I had to ask before I was finished interrogating the Kaldorei, one that mattered more than anything else I could ask her.

"What are their plans on invading this land?"

"I cannot speak of the Horde, but I assume they had the same plans as the Alliance. It was planned that there will be two major staging grounds on opposite sides of the continent. One in the Borean Tundra, and another in the Howling Fjord, in the Ruins of Valgarde." I took a moment to comprehend the plan and nodded slowly, understanding the logic behind it. The two were spread apart, how far I had no idea, but it sounded quite far based on the way she said it, and the Scourge would have to split between the two if they wanted to take both. It would also let one faction concentrate far more on one or the other to minimize conflict between each other.

It would spread them out though, to maintain two approaching fronts. There had to be some factor I was missing.

Except…

If they had just enough staying power to hold on, and the tenacity to continue fighting against the odds, they would keep both bases and push my Liege's faction back. If they committed to one base more than the other, they'd have time to fortify the other before the bulk of forces could redeploy to the other base. With four landing areas, that meant our forces in each region were split between two positions there as well, resulting in the same problems. While each troop of thiers could act on their own, Lesser Undead could only act on the will of a Necromancer, meaning assasination targets aplenty, with success seeing a line falter.

I looked back at the Kaldorei and took stock of what all she said. The plans were almost certainly known already, since I assumed Gothik had both my Ghost and the 'orc' interrogated before our lesson, so I would just get in the way if I tried to tell them about it, if I could even communicate with them now. Aside from that, I didn't doubt Gothik already knew most of what I did now.

Next, I was pretty sure she was a Kaldorei, since she was part of the 'Alliance' before her death, and she didn't look human, gnomish or dwarfish. Well, she could be an 'Exiled one', but I didn't think that was likely given the extensive knowledge she had and her religious mentioning of Elune.

"How long until the forces arrive here?"

She put a finger to her lips and closed her eyes in thought, eventually giving a shrug as was apparently a common thing among my undead. "A week or two? It's been nearly a month since I started my scouting mission, Avatar of Elune, and the plans were to depart from Stormwind and Menethil Harbor a week after I left." Well, it was better than not knowing anything I guess. Granted I knew nothing about fantasy boat travel, so it could be a few days to another month before they arrived.

With a sigh, I looked down and rubbed my hand against my face, stave leaned up against my shoulder. There was way too much to do, and nowhere near enough time to do it. So priorities needed to be put in order. But first…

"Kaldorei. You are free to do whatever it is you wish." The woman beamed in contentment, once more unnerving me before promptly shutting her eyes and clasping her hands as if in prayer. I... was going to ignore that, and focus on what actually mattered.

Invasion incoming, high priority, but I was a cog in the machine, and had to wait on orders to come in, lest I upset carefully laid plans. My territory was likely low priority but as evidently clear from the original owners, it served as a staging area, so I could assume eventually I would be targeted. Getting resources, high priority, as otherwise my base of operations wasn't going to be in a good position against anything, especially another naval assault. Learning new magics, low priority, simply because Death Magic was good enough for the moment. As much as it itched to admit that, the bait of the other magics we went over was tantalizing. So, of the three, I needed to focus on resource acquisition first, and in turn the 'nature spirits' guarding my stone and wood. Fantastic.

Sitting on what remained of the Altar of the chapel, I sighed and closed my eyes. I may as well recuperate, and in the meantime, figure out what the fuck she did!

"It wasn't my fault!"

I tried to hold it in but couldn't help but sigh. "This is going to be a thing now, huh?"

I opened my eyes to her smiling at me, arms extended and waving about. She paused and blushed, putting her arms back down to rest back on the throne, apparently I was not supposed to see that.

"O-oh? What is?"

I gave her a dull look, content with sitting where I was for now. Then my brow furrowed. "Why didn't I try to contact you before now?"

Silence hung in the air, the Queen looking everywhere but at me. "I - may - have had something to do with that?"

Silence hung in the air.

I stared at her.

She cringed. "It was for the best, Kel'Thuzad, and especially his Master, shouldn't know of us."

"So, you Mastered me." It was a fear I had held for a very long time, perhaps at the time unjustly, but one that was now coming true. How much did my Partner really affect me? It was a two way street, which I apparently had used to turn a calculating, omnicidal, quantum, multi-dimensional, super-computer into a- an- excitable murderchild! Dread crawled into me, and if I had this much effect upon her then what was even the limit of her effect on me?

I began glaring harder, if she had just asked-

"You would have promised to say nothing but in the end you would have told them everything."

-What. I lessened my glare and said as much.

She frowned and became increasingly subdued, "So, you still cannot tell? Even with the increase in knowledge, the feeling of commanding other Undead outside a combat environment? You still felt nothing?"

My anger dissipated, the nagging feeling I got returned. I was missing something, clearly something vital. "What am I missing?"

Queen Administrator's face twisted in a flurry of emotions I couldn't even begin to dissect. She once again loomed above me from her throne, casting unknown judgement down on me. Something rankled my soul. An intensity of a feeling I couldn't place returned.

"I 'Mastered' you into not trying to contact me, no more, no less…" She drifted off, face drained off emotion, her eyes unfeeling as she gazed down on me. "Everything else was entirely you. I assure you of this."

I was missing something. "You tell me to visit you but then you prevent me from doing so? Why?" Something was going on that I couldn't grasp.

"Simple, information security and future assurance."

My anger was gone, the nagging feeling subsided, and all that was left was confusion. But at least she was finally answering my damn questions! "Please, Partner. Just, stop being so cryptic."

She huffed and nodded. "Very well. You cannot answer a question you do not have the information for. Instinct is as good of an answer for you as anything. Thanks to Gotik it is an answer we know will be accepted, for Death Magics at least. As he said, both our pasts are filled with slaughter and death. Thankfully, we're so 'swollen' with this long and blood-soaked history that he did not notice me." She paused to let it sink in.

"Do not think that any level of talent or skill would have saved you from Kel'Thuzad or Gothik if they had discovered my existence. Both desire power, immensely so. I am that final bit of power they no doubt search for. That one bit of power that will raise them above their peers eternally." I nodded along, that much was true and I would readily admit as such. Neither were very subtle about their interest in me, or more specifically what I could provide. The other major pressure on me besides my Liege, was the need to prove that services I could render were far more beneficial than anything they could obtain from my soul in the short-term.

Wait.

Something fell into place.

My Liege?

Something, something was wrong.

When had I started thinking like that?

Why would I call Kel'Thuzad such? Certainly, he raised me from death but…

He raised me from death. He was My Liege.

I blinked. Right where was I?

"What about the ghost? Will you at least tell me what happened there?"

Queen's stare seemed to bore into me. "Very well, it was an accident. When our magic connected to her soul she bore witness to me through you." Wha- "My real form. The giant crystal-like moon that orbits a desolate planet. She mistook me for her Goddess, who is also a moon."

Ah, that explained everything and simultaneously nothing.

Clearly my opinion was written on my face because the Queen could only sigh and pinch her nose in irritation. "All right then, let's use some visual examples. I need you in the right mindset, so I need you to try as best you can to follow my instructions, okay?"

I nodded along and closed my eyes, curious where she was going with this.

"First I want you to imagine you are normal, no powers unique to just you, that is. Normal for this world. Gods exist or at the minimum beings that could effectively be called Gods unironically. So, in this instance say you worship the sun, this worship of the sun has shaped your culture and species for a very long time. With faith comes the ability to manifest pillars of Sunfire."

Right, that was a thing here. I vaguely recalled one of my lessons with a necromancer who enjoyed scribing cultural studies, faith could literally be a pathway to casting magic, in this case the grouping called 'The Light'.

Seeing the recognition in my eyes Queen continued, "The one day, you are captured and are forced through an immense degree of pain and anguish, only to waken to the sight of a Sun, one that isn't exactly the same color as yours but still recognizable as a star. This sun bears down on you, immense pressure comes from all sides. And the Sun says 'Obey.' "

I reflexively recoiled from such a mental image, trying to calm my-

"And now," She looked me in my now open eyes, " I want you to imagine what a sane, rational, person with a strong moral and ethical foundation would do."

I squawked. I couldn't help it. It was a mix of a shout of indignation, a confused question, and a sharp rebuke, but they all came out a garbled mess. So, of course my useless brain decided that sputtering was the best backup response. "W-what! I'm perfectly sane and rational! I mean yes, my morals and ethics took a hit from this Undead whammy, but still…"

Queen just gave me the flattest stare I think I ever say on someone, which she probably copied now that I think about it. "Host, I love you dearly. I do. You are quite literally my world. I have, however, combed over vast quantities of your post-pubescent life. Your ability to rationalize away every insane and ridiculous decision and action you perform does not make you rational or sane."

I gaped at her, did she really, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. In, out. Okay, you are an older, more mature person, Taylor. You will not yell at the child who chose to emulate you just because they picked at your younger self's honest mistakes.

In the end, aside from Queen's snark, she had a good point. If someone had grown up around a moon-based culture, who the worship of had actual real world effects, and then one day you get tortured and wake up to a moon talking to you? I suppose it was just the corrosive nature of the magic we used combined with our inexperience that caused the other issues.

"And in the future?"

Queen rubbed her chin, contemplating. "I think that it is unlikely to happen again. The more repetitions we perform the better the sample size and the more I can refine the technique. One does not a sample make."

I nodded, content, that is reasonable enough. Thanks went to Gothik once more, 'binding' a usable Ghost from a Soul was supposedly advanced, so mistakes like her scrambled personality and memory would probably be ignored.

I got my answers, now it was time to handle my other issues. "Thanks, Partner."

She relaxed and smiled at me. It was an easy going happiness, one that I couldn't be too sure came from me. "Of course, Taylor."

Sneaky AN: I'm interested to see if we did -enough- learning for taylor in this chapter . I'd like to hear opinions and suggestions.

greysongarr · Apr 24, 2021

Recuperation went quickly after my talk with my Partner, though I was greeted with the disquieting sight of the Ghost still praying in front of me as I 'woke up'. I say 'still', but with my utter inability to tell time I could only assume time passed similar to what it has previously.

She stopped when I stood, instead choosing to simply look upon me reverently. I couldn't decide if I regretted the lesson, even if it was important for my education, or rather to say I wish I had just failed it at first so I didn't have to deal with this. I tried to ignore her as Thessa came in with a squad of former Onslaught, probably for the report she mentioned earlier. Which made me question her timing, did she wait for me? Did she know when I was going to wake?

Most of them were less ornately armored, comparatively to my Knights at least, a spear on their backs and clad in what looked like pieces of mail and plate. So, what most actual knights would look like… which honestly surprised me given I was in a High Fantasy world. But I suppose 'realistic' is considered being 'subtle' in a world where massive pauldrons are a sign of skill. The rest were a motley group, dressed in leather and cloth, holding tools ranging from shovels and picks to hammer and axes.

I focused on the soldiers first as Thessa came to my other side, her eyes visibly flickering a quick look at the Kaldorei before ignoring her, as I was trying to do. The lead soldier came before me, dropping to a knee as his fist hit the floor, the rest of his group following his lead and kneeling before me as if I was royalty of some kind. Tapping my staff twice, I motioned for the captain, presumably anyway, to start, which he did without hesitation.

"We took flight shortly after you left, Lady Wraith, taking a group of workers to survey the area. The flight was difficult with the blizzards across the Glacier, but we weathered it in good time and got through into Crystalsong." I hummed before tapping my stave against the ground, getting up with the motion and turning to Thessa.

"Bring me a map of the continent."

She bowed and vanished from sight with a blink of my eyes, something I was slowly getting used to, before returning within a couple of seconds with a rather large sheet of parchment. Rolling out the map in front of me… I would need to get a table for this at some point, and an actual 'war room' which I'm sure the Cathedral actually has but for the death of me I had yet to find in my wanderings. Thessa pinned the corners with a knife before stepping back and letting me get a proper look of the continent. It wasn't marked with much of anything, and I had to look at Thessa before she pointed out where we were… at the far west of the continent on a tiny bit of land that barely appeared. I had a sudden realization of how big this continent was.

I got up and walked to the map, more to get a better grasp on what was there than anything else. It was rather rudimentary, details were sparse, and entire sections of the map were just blank entirely, the only things in any good detail were the bottom and center of the continent and the area around the Harbor, Settlements, points of interest, terrain types, all of these were concentrated in a few areas, rather than the entire continent, which I could understand to a degree.

Some places weren't explored, others held nothing of value when they were explored, and the rest were just inaccessible.

The captain strode up and knelt by the map, pointing out the path he took and where Crystalsong was on the map, the immediate center of the continent. "We flew for a bit and noticed large amounts of ruins and good lumber, with a single tree larger than the Monastery at its greatest." I had no idea what this 'Monastery' was that he was talking about, but I was assuming it was much bigger than I thought was normal for one.

"As we progressed further into the forest we came across various nature spirits. Walking trees and the like, nothing major." What? Walking trees weren't major? What the hell was then? My internal grumbling was silenced as he continued without delay, recapturing my attention. "As we crossed to about halfway through, the scenery changed to… 'corruption', and the reason for its name."

I stayed silent - I had questions - but I could ask them at the end after this report was done, and for all I knew my questions would be answered with said report. So, with a gesture for him to continue, I listened further to the scout captain. "We didn't go too far, the Gryphons refused to go further, and there was a… Hrm, " He paused still clearly trying to organize his thoughts on whatever he felt, which was worrying being that he has had days to mull on it. "A presence that made us fall ill. There were far more corrupted spirits in that area as well, and I prioritized caution when observing. Shortly after another run of the outskirts we turned and headed back my Lady."

Well, I had a clue as to what 'Major' was considered now.

The scout stepped back as a worker took his place, half-lidded, frost-blue eyes looking directly at me with an axe propped against his shoulder. I had an idea of what he was going to talk about, and gave a nod for him to begin. "Lumber's good from there. Got a few samples 'fore we left and it passed muster with the shipwrights and carpenters. Stone's also decent from there. Ruins are better quality, but more limited and difficult to harvest. If'a we need more? Coupla good quarry spots with the right setup." Well. That was straight to the point, and appreciated.

I gave a nod of acknowledgement to the worker, the man thumped his chest before departing with the rest of the workers, leaving me with the scout captain and his retinue. Looking back at him, I finally asked the questions buzzing in my head. "What kind of spirits did you find in Crystalsong?"

He kept to his knelt posture as he gave his reply, my eyes unable to see what was behind his helmet. "The flora and fauna were corrupted with what looked like arcane energies. Purple-White Crystals were radiating energy, so tha-" I bit back a grimace and struck my staff against the stone, silencing the scout instantly, allowing me to speak.

"I asked about the Spirits. Not what they were corrupted by."

He was silent for a moment, "I apologize, my Lady. It will not happen again I swear." I couldn't respond to his disproportionate apology, as I was merely correcting what I wanted to know from him. I clearly had just stepped on a landmine that I simply couldn't just ask about.

Unnerved, I cautiously chose my next words carefully, just in case the scout captain killed himself or something. "Just… continue." He stayed silent himself for a long moment, making me wish I could see his face, before eventually continuing to answer.

"As you wish, my lady. We couldn't get close to the Corrupted area, but from what we saw, there were elf-women with the lower body of a deer, walking trees, Elves and some abomination of a goat and man." Ignoring the last one for a moment…

There was a variety of things in that forest, and they'd almost assuredly be pissed off when my undead started harvesting the area. What sounded like classical dryads, ents and more elves called that place home, on top of the 'abomination'... Which was likely a permutation of Satyrs from the, ah, Greeks I think... If there was one thing I absolutely knew from my readings it was that pissing off nature beings in a forest tended to go poorly for the person pissing off Nature. Saruman was the notable example of that with the Ents and Fangorn.

Yet… The problem here was, I needed those materials.

Not for any nefarious purpose like that of all the villains of stories that try to fight Nature, but merely to complete my mission of fortifying the harbor. A pity, it seems my affiliation with the Scourge is a negative in this instance, as normally I likely could have simply requested troops or materials. But after Chillwind and how he was handled? I wouldn't put it past for a more competent, but no less petty, lich to screw me over and make me look bad when the materials I requested never arrive. At the same time I couldn't negotiate, if that was even possible, with the Nature spirits to harvest the forest as my Liege made it no secret to me that we are a faction that is hated by everything, including the elements and powers that be.

Which meant that I was going to be pissing off nature, and hoping that I had enough strength to bulldoze through whatever it sent at me. The problem with that was, beyond the obvious... I couldn't bring the full brunt of my forces to bear on the nature spirits. It took the entirety of my time in Naxxramas for the gryphons to get there and back, and I had… maybe a dozen to a dozen and a half gryphons.

Just the workers alone numbered near a hundred… and I had over triple that in actual forces!

No. If I wanted to deal with the spirits of that forest, and safeguard my resource extraction efforts long-term, I needed all of my forces at once to deal with the forest in its entirety. Unfortunately, I probably needed even more than what I had. But to even bring my undead over, I needed a route to and from the area that I could connect, somehow, to the Harbor, and wouldn't get caught up in anything important on that route.

So the first thing to do is to get back over there, survey the area for a good position to put a base down, and find a path to the ocean to send the eventual resources harvested back to the Harbor. I wasn't about to leave that to just my undead… I sighed, which meant I had to go out there and get my first taste of the world I was in outside of this frozen hellhole.

On the back of an Undead mythological creature, followed by the ghost of some's soul that I ripped out that now worshipped me, with a smattering of undead soldiers that I slaughtered and forced into my service. Why must my life be so weird?

Tapping my staff against the floor, I laid 'judgement' on the scout captain. "Your report is acceptable captain. Don't be sidetracked though unless it is relevant to the conversation." I wasn't about to give him a punishment for making a slight mistake. Besides, I knew that some people just tended to ramble about topics that were intriguing or interesting to them, so it wasn't even that major a thing.

"Yes my Lady."

With that out of the way, I could focus on the important matters, like preparing for my journey to Crystalsong. Turning to Thessa, I gave my orders without a shred of hesitation from the earlier discomfort showing. "I require an architect and several warriors. Let Heinrich know he is in charge of the Harbor until we return Thessa." With a bow, Thessa vanished from my sight, leaving me with the Gryphon Riders.

"Ready your mounts. You'll be taking me and others back to Crystalsong."

As one, the riders rose and saluted, hand behind their back while another crossed to their heart, chorusing out a "By your will!" before leaving me alone with my Ghost. I probably had a bit of time before the riders were ready to depart, and Thessa gathered the people I requested, which meant I could relax for a while. I wasn't looking forward to the 'blizzards' the captain spoke of.

"Avatar. May I accompany you to Crystalsong?"

I started and turned with the Kaldorei's voice, not expecting her to say anything. After the brief panic, I let out a sigh of relief before replying. "You may Kaldorei." A thought crossed my mind as I accepted, and led to a question in turn. "Is there a reason you wish to come?"

Her serene expression didn't change as she closed her eyes and shook her head. "Not particularly, Avatar of Elune. I merely thought you would benefit from one who scouted the area for a while before my capture." I blinked and looked at her in a new light as that information sank in.

A guide to that forest would be nice, and almost assuredly make the outcome better. A highly and clearly magical forest like this… If she knew hidden groves of relics, quick paths through the bramble or easily defendable areas, it would make the trip's purpose far more successful. Besides which, even if it was slightly more difficult to get another person on the Gryphons, a Ghost shouldn't add much weight. Probably.

…Shouldn't was the key word.

My thoughts stopped again when I felt something take hold of my hair, followed by the realization that the Ghost wasn't in front of me anymore. "What are you doing?" The Kaldorei was broken, in a state that wasn't out of place in the worst Master cases I'd seen and heard. No matter what it was that she was doing, it wasn't going to be something deadly to me.

My Partner would intervene if it was.

The Kaldorei had the nerve to giggle at my question, and continued doing... whatever it was she doing. Humming a melodic tune, she responded after a few seconds of working. "Mother taught me that the Priestesses had braids signifying their connection to Elune. I learned a little under the Head Priestess before I went to Mother's command." The touch went away, and I heard the Kaldorei make a sound of contentment. "It is only proper for Elune's Avatar to have her symbol."

I simply sighed and let her continue, I was not about to get into an argument with a broken ghost. Besides which… maybe the braid looked nice. Just because I was an 'Evil Necromancer' archetype, I didn't have to look the part, even if everyone else looked like they were part of an evil cult. Honestly, even if bones were common due to the Necromancy, the sheer amount of skull decorations I've seen everywhere were a bit much. It is like whoever is in charge took pages of being Master of Undead straight out of some childish bedtime story.

… Speaking of. I actually didn't know what I looked like…

When I had a moment of respite, I'd take a moment to look at myself. But for the moment, there was far too much to do in a limited timeframe. Maybe not as rushed as my time in the Wards but it certainly carried the same sense of finality to it if I failed.

Needless to say, I wasn't too bothered by what the Kaldorei did. Sure it was out of nowhere, but given it was her… I couldn't really blame her. "Please say something the next time you want to do something, Kaldorei."

She gave a bow that I saw the end of as I turned to her, still utterly serene and unnerving as ever. "As you wish, Avatar." Trying not to shudder from how she acted, I turned towards the door out and started heading out, followed by my Ghost.

My journey to the stables was one without incident. A town of undead acting in concert with one another tended to be unnatural, as nothing wrong typically happened, and it was silent aside from nature itself. I saw that as I passed through the streets for the third time, workers moving various materials between locations, Onslaught standing guard ready for an attack to come. It was unnatural, and shouldn't have occurred. Ah, hello Partner. You are getting better at this moral compass thing.

However, the stables itself on the other hand, was a cacophony.

You'd expect undead creatures to be silent unless there needed to be conversation, or they were attacking something. You'd be wrong about undead gryphons. The half eagle, health-lion creatures were beyond noisy, squawking, screeching and growling at one another as if they were still alive, even as they stood ready to take flight. With armor strapped to them, the beasts were even more majestic to look at. Despite being dead.

Thessa and the individuals I asked for were already assembled and preparing for the long flight, while the Gryphon Riders coaxed the beasts into a semi-docile state. I didn't launch into some grand speech like Legend gave as I walked forward to the captain. I didn't even give an order for us to begin like Alexandria or Armsmaster. No, I just tapped my staff against the ground, and the assembled Onslaught, two Skeletal Archers, Kaldorei and myself mounted the immediately docile gryphons.

There weren't enough gryphons to accommodate two to a beast, the larger and burlier four of them being graced with three individuals on them, with the other eleven sticking with only two. I myself was mounted with Thessa and the captain, he had the biggest of the gryphons, a-

With a loud screech, the lead gryphon took off without warning, leaving me with a deathgrip at the sudden motion and lack of ground, the wind howling in my face the moment we were in the air. Above it, somehow, I heard the laughter of the captain as he led the squadron towards the glacier. "Mind the blizzards, we don't want a crash landing like Andrew at the end."

There were bits of laughter from the other Gryphon Riders, save for one who shouted something in response, unfortunately I couldn't hear a thing from the wind that got worse. And in the distance, I could see the 'blizzard' that the captain talked about... And calling it that was like saying a Tsunami is a wave. It was correct… but it wasn't accurate.

A veritable wall of ice, clouds and howling wind that obscured the sky itself. And we had to go through it.

Fuck my life.

Flying through what could only be called Frozen Hell, was an… experience, even if I couldn't see a damn thing. I felt the cold entering my bones, with each wingbeat of the Gryphon, I could barely hear over the wind, and as said. I could barely see the captain in front of me. I couldn't fathom how inhospitable to the Living it must be if it's this inconveniencing for the Dead.

I had no idea how long we were in the storm, but it felt both too long and too short. Whas that just me or was there magic involved? Regardless of that question, time was completely and utterly lost to me on how long we spent in the blizzard, especially since the Gryphons just kept on going regardless of the cold seeping in. Eventually the blizzard seemed to lessen minutely, and light peaked through the frost clouds, and I was plunged into the light.

My first thing upon tearing through the blizzard was shielding my eyes from the oppressive light that blared into me. The next thing I did was hear the laughter of the captain and immediately grip onto the Gryphon's mane tighter as he sent us into a dive. My eyes adjusted slowly, barely catching sight of some massive black metal structure before it passed by and I was left staring at a large lake that stretched for probably a few miles.

A loud screech cut through my looking about, the sound met by the cries of the rest of the squadron of gryphons as they formed up and began gliding across the mirror-like lake. My attention turned to the captain as he spoke clearly in the calm wind. "We'll be touching down at the lakeside for a gear check my Lady. Don't want any gear to fail because it froze through that blizzard, right?"

"That is fine. I could use a rest after that… journey." My response was met with a bark of laughter, just before the gryphon let out a shriek, answered near immediately by the rest as it accelerated.

If I wanted to get used to this kind of travel… I was going to need a lot of practice. Maybe I should look into figuring out a way to get my hands on that teleportation magic.

After what felt like a few minutes, the beach came up and we landed without any incident. I got off with shaky legs and barely kept my balance as my feet hit the sand, only my staff keeping me from planting my face into the ground. Noticeably to me, the rest of my undead were completely fine, even the architect that Thessa had brought for the job, as they proceeded to get off and check over their equipment.

Considering I had no equipment to speak of, that left me with nothing to do whatsoever. And with absolutely nothing to do, I figured that I may as well look at the lake to see if there was anything worthwhile in it, small chance there may have been. Trudging across the bleached sands, I made my way to the water's edge before stopping as I caught my reflection in the mirror-like surface.

Leaning down, I became captivated in looking at myself. I wasn't vain, nor narcissist, but I hadn't seen my image since… I couldn't even remember, so I was naturally entranced by how much I changed from what I remembered.

My skin was pale, deathly pale, which made sense since I was a Necromancer and all, on top of not having seen the sun since I had been raised. The next thing I noticed was my eyes, the glowing, violet-black eyes with wisps of the same colored energy radiating off of them, that was… unsettling, and made me question what had caused that. And then came my hair…

The only actual thing that I cared about my body. The only thing that was actually worth anything, and a memento of Mom… looked like I was elderly instead of my actual age. My hair was turning grey, and only a small portion of it was still brown near the tips, with most of my hair unkempt, ratty and otherwise a mess, the sole exception was the braid I could visibly see that the Kaldorei had done for me circling around the back of my head. I would need to take of that in the future, I refused to let my last thing of Mom be this… mangled.

After taking in my physical looks and such, I finally noticed the thing that made me grow very annoyed. I wasn't horrified by it, if I was I'd have been horrified at everything that I'd been doing in the past 'days', if it were days. As it was, I was just annoyed that it reinforced my look of the 'Evil Necromancer'

Needless to say, leaking what was clearly death magic from my stump and the holes I still had in my body did not make me look any better as the energy pooled at my feet. Suddenly, I started understanding why no one corrected any outlandish assumptions made about me. Not even someone like Gothik leaked this much energy passively.

What was it that he said to me? "Your soul is ancient and swollen with death." ...Eh, close enough.

I looked down at my hands, my past sins crawling down my spine… I had a lot of blood on my hands. Partner had even more. It seems in this world that it finally came full circle to never let us forget it.

Pushing myself up with a grimace, I turned back to my Onslaught and made my way back. Apparently my timing was great, since they were just getting finishing up their equipment checks and remounting the gryphons for the trip. Getting on was a simple affair, and with minimal effort and time we were in the air with a screech of the gryphon beneath me.

Nothing else happened of importance as we flew further into the region, we didn't stop as we followed along a mountainside on the side of the forest. I didn't question why they were doing this, I had some thought that it was easier to know where we were rather than in the middle of a forest, but that 'argument' fell flat when you could see above the trees for miles. The reasons for this route ranged so much since I knew absolutely nothing, so I wasn't even about to go into them.

As we flew by, fast enough that the trees near us sped by, I took the free moment afforded to me to just look over the forest. Trees stretched from mountain range to mountain range, a sea of orange and yellow that was simply breathtaking to see… If I weren't busy staring at the tree across the way that dwarfed Behemoth to the point the Endbringer would have looked like a kid under an apple tree. I knew I was in a Fantasy world, but that thing was absurd, even when there was real-world examples like sequoias, but this thing put them to shame from *miles* away.

Turning away, I spotted a few cleared areas in the forest, where what looked like pieces of ruined stone structures that I was told about hours earlier were scattered about. I noticed something wandering through the area, but from this distance they were just specks of purple against a backdrop of stone and lush forest. They disappeared as the gryphons kept going and I was left wondering what the hell those specks were, and why they were purple of all colors.

We kept flying into the dusk, and it was then when I understood what the scout captain meant by 'Corruption'. There was a massive glowing section of the forest far in front that illuminated the night, the same purple-white that the speck had earlier when we flew by, and it just felt… wrong. Worse than anything that I had witnessed in both this life and my last one, it reverberated through my soul and made me nauseous even looking at it.

Naturally, I tried to not look at it as we continued our flight, a very difficult ordeal since it seemed to draw the eye with its exotic nature. In the end, I managed to, for the most part, focus off of it and down into the dark forest, which looked eerie with the light seeping through the boughs. Some time after as two moons stood high in the midnight sky, the squadron of gryphons squawked and chirped at one another, before they dove to the ground, where what looked like an incline was rising into the mountains.

Landing was a much better affair after the first one, and my undead quickly set up camp. While we could see in the dark, with the radiance of that 'Corruption', I wasn't comfortable having my undead out and about where something from that 'Corruption' could come in and smash us from the air.

The added benefit of taking a moment to 'rest' and focus off this unending flight was just a nice bonus in my eyes. So with a bit of rest allowed, I closed my eyes and mediated.

I was jarred from my meditations when a spear slammed into my chest.

Tumbling to the ground with a gasp of surprise, I was instantly aware of the shouts of my Onslaught as whatever it was attacked us and they went to work. Pushing myself up slightly, I grit my teeth at the sight of what looked like a purple-blue tree branch shoved into my chest, before gripping it with my hand and wrenching it out without a damn. Black ichor sprayed with the wound before beginning to dribble down my back and chest, I stopped paying attention after that as I threw the 'branch' away and pushed myself up.

As I looked around, the haphazard camp we'd made, my annoyance and frustration welled up. The Nature Spirits were assaulting us, and we hadn't done anything to the forest at all! I wasn't even in the damn forest yet!

What looked like dryads, if dryads were made entirely out of crystal that pulsated wrongness and were hopping about brandishing about glaives and spears as they tried to kill my Onslaught. My Onslaught and Gryphons were fighting back valiantly, but for the most part they were too slow in comparison to the nimble 'Dryads', missing most of their attacks, and the rest being blocked.

Even my Archers were doing poorly against them, jarring as it was to see, as the 'Dryads' would duck or twirl their polearms to make the arrows careen around them. The only ones doing well against the 'Dryads' were Thessa and the Kaldorei, both too quick for those spirits to escape their grasp unscathed.

As I looked around more, I saw… Satyr that the scout had reported about. Except the Satyrs in the stories weren't quite so large nor were they made out of the same crystal the 'Dryads' were made o-

My thoughts screeched to a halt as another spear impaled me, punching into my flesh and spilling my 'blood' with ease. My annoyance rapidly became anger as I pulled this one out, reminding me of the time just like with that asshole Onslaught that kept shooting me. My eyes burned as I swept my gaze across the battlefield, looking for the culprit, and eventually I found her.

Of course, right as she hurled another spear straight into my chest with enough speed I was sure a low-level Mover wouldn't be able to dodge out of. I didn't get any weaker, not with the literal holes in my body pouring ichor out. Being an undead meant that I was graced with endurance that was stupid, and could shrug off most not-obliterating wounds. No...

I was pissed.

Not even bothering to rip the spear out of my chest as the 'Dryad' proceeded to form another spear for herself, I reared back my stump of an arm, necrotic energy wildly lashing out in my rage, and sent the magic hurtling at the creature. Panicked the 'Dryad' tried to bound away, but Death is attracted to life, and the grasp of a Death Grip clamped around the nature spirit, yanking it away from the forest's edge.

Slamming the creature into the ground and dragging her to just in front of me relieved some of my anger, but I still was pissed beyond reason as the battered creature was lifted up in front of me. She struggled to move, and I could see her legs cracking and pieces breaking off and disintegrating as my rage grew. Without a pause I dug into the 'Dryad' with my energy, a hellish scream erupting from the creature that sent the entire battlefield into silence.

As I hooked into the soul, I did as Gothik told me, and ripped.

The 'Dryad's' physical form crumbled to pieces of dissolving crystal as the soul was yanked out, looking much different than the abomination that I had brought in front of me. Slightly smaller, with what looked like plant life growing on her - and providing modesty to her - and an overall look of confusion as she seemed to inspect herself. As I looked up from the dryad barely coming up to my chest, I watched the rest of the attackers start bolting into the forest.

I was still a little pissed off, though ripping out the dryad had helped, and while the other 'Dryads' were out of sight in the trees now, the 'Satyrs' had apparently stuck around to watch the Dryad get tortured as they were still clearly visible. Death magic lashed out again as I bent down and picked up my staff, standing up as the Death Grip neared the 'Satyrs' like a sharkfin of Death. I was treated to a moment of shock as one of the Satyrs took one of their kin and threw it into the magic nearing it, a scream of outrage from the captured one erupting before I yanked him back to me.

With that, the remaining attackers disappeared into the forest as a 'Satyr' came flying at me, flailing erratically. Pulling back my arm as it got closer, I plunged my staff straight through the back of the 'Satyr', sending crystal flying. I expected blood, it was a satyr, who were half-human, half-goat creatures, so of course it had to have blood… but it didn't bleed, it just slowly shuddered as it tried to pull itself off, before eventually stilling.

Pulling my staff out of the corpse, the 'Satyr' fell to the ground, pieces cracking off with the impact, and finally quiet enveloped the camp. I tapped my staff against the ground as I let out a breath, death energy rushing into the corpse as a faint screaming could be heard. The corpse twitched before rising to its feet, I was momentarily surprised by just how much magic it took to raise. Unlike the rest of my undead, the 'Satyr' didn't knit itself back together, staying a broken and shattered creature with a hole in its chest where a flame of Death burned. It was unnerving.

I was thrown off guard when something slammed into my side and wrapped itself around me. Immediately looking down I saw the dryad… hugging me, as she babbled at me. "Thank you, thank you, thank you-"

What?

Confusion took over as the dryad continued to thank me, what for I had no idea and it made me more confused-

"Will you shut up treehugger! I don't need my ears in pain with the rest of me!"

The spiral of confusion paused as the dryad was cut off by the 'Satyr' yelling at her, glowering at the far smaller creature as she moved from me and gave a scathing reply. "Oh, I'm sorry Mister Goat, I forgot that you could talk like an intelligent being. You certainly didn't use any when you followed the Highborne here." The 'Satyr' growled as embers flickered in his hands, quickly followed by the dryad coalescing a spear into existence.

What the fuck was happening!

Every damn moment, something happened that made me more confused than the last! Was it too much to ask for two god forsaken moments where I was able to understand what was happening!

Unnatural fire burst into the 'Satyr's hands as he snarled, a dizzying mix of purple, green, red and black. "You little! I should burn you like I did handfuls of your kind at the Well!"

A glance at the 'Dryad' showed she was undaunted by such a display, somehow turning her nose up at someone that towered over her. "As if you could burn me Mister Goat! You couldn't do anything without the Eredar prodding you forward!" Please, Lisa. Cease the smug. My brain hurts.

Slamming down my staff, magical CRACK and all, silenced whatever the 'Satyr' was about to say, causing both the 'Dryad' and 'Satyr' to look at me, my annoyance clear with both of them. That didn't deter either of them, as the dryad pranced back to my side and happily gave me another hug, once more making me question what happened to her, and if she was treated to the same scene as the Kaldorei, while the 'Satyr' relaxed and slouched.

Turning to the 'Satyr' first, I barely had to wait before he decided to speak. "So Master," He sneered at me, my reflexive admonishment on the tip of my tongue. "You wanna put me back together, only correctly this time? As much as I adore having a ball of fire for a heart and being chained to this agonizing form, I could do without. Really. " I twitched. Alec. Of course they're both sarcastic assholes, except one's aimed at me and the other was… weird.

Taking a breath to not just murder him right then and there, I tried to calm down after the blatant disrespect. As much as it'd be cathartic to just kill him, I needed every single body available to me if I wanted to survive whatever this fucked-up forest had in store for me. "I can't." The Satyr blinked, before narrowing his eyes and leaning forward, looking behind him showed the rest of my undead collecting the camp together.

"Really? You mean to tell me, Old One, that you can't heal a simple hole in a corpse you just raised." The incredulous tone drove my annoyance up, and it was only through mentally repeating that I had a need for him that I once more didn't kill him. "I guess that makes sense if you haven't fixed your own holes. It's impressive you even raised one as magnificent as I."

…I wanted to punch him. So much.

It was like talking to an even worse version of Alec.

"Are you flesh and blood?" My question caught the 'Satyr' off guard as it blinked owlishly, looking down at itself for a mere moment before returning to fix me with a 'Are you that stupid?' look. "Necromancy reknits dead flesh." And does so much more but I doubt he was willing to listen to my budding dissertation of the conceptual weight of an object and the limits of necromancy in reforming it. There was a moment where he kept that look, before a thoughtful expression went across his face. The dryad at my side giggled like a little girl at the sight, just as the 'Satyr' nodded his head.

"Huh, I guess that is a problem." He chuffed, "I hope you don't plan on me fighting until you remedy that." … He did have a point, as much as I wanted to punch him. "Until then, I'll just lay back and support from behind." It was so tempting to just kill him with that smug smile as he sat and laid himself out on the ground.

He was a worse Alec.

Taking another breath, I turned my head down as I felt the dryad doing something to my side, finding her… nuzzling me with an expression of pure joy. What was it with Ghosts and being creepy weird? "Um… what are you doing?"

She stopped what she was doing, looking up into my eyes and gave a smile that instantly set alarm bells off in my mind. "You saved me from pain and darkness. The song was madness since the Dragons came. I was showing appreciation for my Savior~" As much as I hate to say it… I would have preferred another one like the Kaldorei, compared to this dryad. At least with the Kaldorei, she kept her distance, for the most part, and just prayed to my Partner.

A snort from the Satyr took her attention away from me, which I was grateful for since it released me from the dryad's grip, and had her focus on the asshole. "What's so funny, demon's pet?" Oh joy, Demons exist. Great. Taking a step away from the creepy dryad, I carefully avoided drawing attention from her as I backed away from the two bickering creatures. I could deal with them later… when I didn't have an angry forest sending spirits at me.

Who knew when the next attack was, and what it had in it?

Walking up to Thessa as she was sharpening her knives, I tapped my staff twice, getting her attention and having her hooded head turn to me. "Did we lose anything important in the attack." She shook her head as a response, turning back to her knife as she inspected it, apparently finding it satisfactory as she stored it on her belt.

"We didn't lose anyone or any supplies in the attack my Lady." She paused, as if she wanted to say more given she looked back at me. I motioned for her to continue, and with a nod she continued. "If you truly wish to harvest resources from here my Lady… It would be for the better if we destroyed these… Corrupted." I nodded my head slightly, as a sigh left my lips.

What I learned from this event was, so long as I had those 'Corrupted' active in this forest, I would have to deal with attacks against my forces. They'd attack me without warning, prompting or reason, and sending workers out in these conditions would be asking for the death of all my workforce. Of course, I could just bring them back but growing resentment was alway an issue. My life in the Bay told me that critical infrastructure workers can cause a lot of damage when disgruntled. And while yes, I could order them around, I simply couldn't keep watch over them at all times. But… if the size of this forest was any indication, what had just attacked me was a tiny portion of what was inside…

I would either have to scour this forest of a sizable amount of 'Corrupted' and raise them as I had done of the 'Satyr' and dryad, or bring in more of my undead from the Harbor… I needed more in my horde, and that meant scouring this place and raising everything that came at me.

Yet, I still needed to do what I had planned originally, and get a base of operations set up for harvesting resources, or at least find a good location for one to return to later and make. There was a solution… and it left me without the non-combatants.

"Get the Goat-man, Architect and a Gryphon-rider for me, Thessa. After that, prepare the rest for an immediate fight."

I barely registered the "Yes, my Lady." as Thessa disappeared to do her duties, already trying to figure out the best way to accomplish my goals. I clearly had spooked them with my little display, so the spirits of the forest weren't about to launch an assault on me without overwhelming odds. Which meant that when I went in after them they were either going to hide or do guerrilla warfare on me once they understood I was after them.

I'd have to be fast, decisive, and above all, ruthless. I was certain I'd be fine. Just like old times.

Quickly, the three I had asked for assembled in front of me, and I quickly relayed my orders to them. "The three of you are to find a defensible area leading back to Icecrown. Once you have found something, mark it and find a route that can lead to the Harbor." The two Onslaught men bowed their heads and headed off, while the 'Satyr' stood there, and if I didn't know any better I'd say he was arching an eyebrow at me. "You're useless until you're fixed. And you have magic I want to learn, so I'm not getting you killed again."

He didn't say anything to my proactive reply, merely adopting a satisfied grin before sauntering away like the arrogant ass he was. Ignoring him, I turned back as Thessa reappeared at my side, just as the rest of my undead finished their preparations and looked at me for direction. I let a smile grace my face at their promptness before I quelled it and moved on, walking towards the foreboding forest as dawn lit up the sky.

There was much to do, creatures to kill and raise. The normal since I came here.

The walk quickly turned into a hunt after I accidentally stumbled upon some 'Dryads' barely a minute in, gripping one as the rest bolted into the trees hissing in some grating tongue.

As I ripped its soul out much like the first, I felt… something shift its attention onto me, stopping me in my tracks. It was dark, cold and amused, as It looked at me, before I heard a deep, chilling laughter and the presence lifted off my being. I shivered after it was gone, not pulling away from the bliss-filled hug the new 'Dryad' gave me in the hope it would ward the cold coating my sin-soaked soul.

From there, everything devolved into a game of cat and mouse.

My new 'Dryad' happily nuzzled my side before leading us through the trees, giggling as the other 'Dryad' bounded up and tossed her a dazzling smile. Still unnerved by the presence, I almost didn't see the flash of purple trying to escape further into the forests, all I saw was one of the Archers fire his bow into the trees, while both 'Dryads' hurled spectral spears in the same direction. Shortly after the two bounded into the woods, giggling lightly as I kept walking rather aimlessly.

Before I got too far I heard more of the grating tongue and the giggling 'Dryads' coming, looking over to find them dragging another crystalline 'Dryad' across the ground, the creature struggling against their strangely strong grasp as they trotted forward happily. "Don't worry Sister. The pain will stop soon and we can frolic under the light of the Moon again!" More noises ground out from the 'Corrupted' at the first 'Dryad's' words, causing her to giggle harder. "You'll be of clearer mind when the Savior touches you."

… How are they worse than the Kaldorei?

Once more unnerved, I still reached out and gripped the still struggling 'Dryad' with my magic and dug deep, hooking into the spirit inside and tearing it out. I didn't hear a thing from the now-crumbling corpse as another 'Dryad' joined the other two, blinking owlishly at her form before she was glomped by her 'sisters'. Turning away from the creepy, if heartwarming, scene, I deliberated on a course of action as I kept moving forward.

Moving as one group, while being very effective at killing them, was rather noticeable, and while it made sure the corpses were raised or ripped in good condition… that meant little if I only got a few of them. Splitting into smaller groups was almost certainly a better idea, and I quickly turned and started separating my horde into multiple smaller hunting parties.

Was this a bad decision? Probably, but what was one more bad decision on top of everything else I'd done?

Quickly sending off the other groups, complete with pouting 'Dryads' looking absolutely miserable, I looked at what was left over for my own out of the seven groups made. The Kaldorei, two Gryphon Riders with said gryphons, and two Onslaught with greatswords met my gaze unflinchingly, awaiting orders. I had no idea how well this was going to work, but at this point it was far too late to change my mind.

"Let's go."

With those two words, I moved to the Gryphons as they lowered themselves to the ground, allowing the rest of us to get on their dilapidated forms. With a piercing screech from both, we took flight and sped through the trees.

Sunlight peeked through the trees as the hunt progressed throughout the day.

I had to admit to being surprised at how well it was going, despite the obviously bad idea it was to split up. Not only were my groups doing well, but they were bringing me the… 'spoils' of their hunt, despite me not knowing where the hell I was. I was going to attribute that to my Partner, and leave it at that.

If I was honest though, it was… rather boring compared to the battle for the Harbor. Granted, it was a battle instead of a hunt, but still. I was brought more and more bodies of 'Dryads' and 'Satyrs' as the day progressed, the 'Satyr' corpses slowly beginning to crumble to pieces before I got to raising them.

Each one of those goddamn goats were Assholes. Honestly, it was a toss-up if I considered them or the creepy, affectionate 'Dryads' worse. On one hand, the 'Satyrs' were utter self-aggrandizing pricks, and gave off the same shitty air Sophia did. On the other hand… the 'Dryads'. Just, all of them. I was getting a Fallen-like cult around me in the form of bound nature spirits. And yes, the 'Satyrs' were that assholeish that it put them on the same level as a cult.

… Anyway.

The only truly interesting part was when a group of withered looking trees, with arms, eyes and what looked like a necklace, decided to ambush my group. Unfortunately… those 'Ents' were a joke. Given the world I was in, I expected them to command other trees and plantlife, roots erupting from the ground to grasp people into the earth, branches trying to rip me apart…

Instead I got walking trees that lumbered at me, to which I responded with a Deathbolt to each one. I was… disappointed.

By the time night began falling and I had the hunt called off, I had a sizable amount of 'Satyrs' and 'Dryads' accompanying me. Nothing compared to the numbers I had of Onslaught, but maybe around fifty or so I think were raised total. I had lost track after the third 'Satyr' and fifth 'Dryad', and I honestly wasn't in any mood to count them out after the disappointment of the 'Ents'.

"I hear something, Avatar."

Kaldorei's voice whispered into my ear, and it was as I turned to look at her that everything went to hell.

A screech echoed through the trees as I suddenly felt the gryphon take a dive without warning, my stomach sinking in my chest as I turned back around. Valiantly, the Gryphon Rider tried to keep us airborne, but judging from the three see-through arrows stuck into the creature's skull, it was unlikely. I prepared myself for the crash landing as much as I could, but even still I was sent flying off when the gryphon slammed into the detritus in a tangle of limbs and feathers. Another screech and the other gryphon with me slid to a stop, screeching defiantly at whatever just attacked us as the Onslaught leapt off and drew their weapons.

Bracing my staff against the ground, I lifted myself back to my feet with a grunt of effort. I looked up-

I felt a tinge of pain as half of my vision went dark, and I instinctively ducked my head as multiple things thudded into my chest. Annoyance welled up again as once more, I was being turned into a pincushion.

Looking back up, I finally found the foes I faced, namely see-through humanoid figures darting through the trees atop some kind of similarly spectral creature. I growled as necrotic energy seeped from my 'wounds', melting the spectral arrows embedded in me, as I took a step forward, only to receive another arrow straight through my knee. I ignored it and kept my stride, marching towards the ghosts regardless of whatever they threw at me.

A Death Grip lashed out just as another volley of arrows thudded into and around me, but I ignored them as the necrotic hand shot forward through the trees towards its target. The lead spectral figure darted through the undergrowth on their steed, but it did little as the magical appendage weaved through obstacles without any effort. All it took was time.

Another volley went through my chest, though I paid it no mind, and without a sound I split the Death Grip in two just before it reached the creatures assaulting me, reaching out and grabbing the bodies. Energy anchored into whatever the creatures were, before I ripped them through the trees to me, not breaking a branch in the process.

What landed next to me looked similar to the Kaldorei, both in dress and in actual physical looks, alongside a giant, lioness-like feline. With that bare glance given at them I twisted the energy I had buried in them, tuning out whatever it was they did in response before continuing on my way without another glance. My annoyance grew as I saw the rest of the Elves aim their bows at me, even as I kept moving forward.

I felt something weigh on me, nothing as terrible as the one from earlier when the hunt started, but one that was distinctively uncomfortable as the arrows came hurtling at me. A foreboding feel-

With a veritable boom and flash of white energy I was sent hurtling back, past my newly acquired huntress, and into the arms of my Kaldorei. What just-

"You dare strike the Avatar of Elune with Elune's own Blessings? Blasphemers! Forgiveness will not be given for this transgression!"

The hate in her voice was something I wasn't prepared for given my previous experiences with her. With the gentleness I assumed of her, the Kaldorei handed me to the Elf I'd just bound, the woman cradling me as her Great Cat growled before sprinting to join my… pinned undead.

Note to self. Don't be an idiot and get controlled by emotions again. Even if I was fully in the right to do so. I sighed internally, it was a note I was likely to ignore, again, as I had done every previous moment of my life.

As the Great Cat slid to a stop, I was able to see my Kaldorei fully step into combat for the first time with my full focus on her. A sword in each hand at her side casually batting the arrows out of the air with an ease I would never achieve, her body seeming to glow with similar colored energy as whatever hit me. She took a step forward, bringing her blades up to the sky, radiating a blinding amount of white energy mixed with motes of pitch black, before sweeping both down to her sides.

[ELATION]

My eyes widened, both as the surge of sheer [Emotion] I just felt and as what seemed like pillars of light lanced into the ground from the heavens, blasting apart the forest below them with all the force of one of Purity's lasers. Dust clouds obscured my vision of what was happening, while the sheer noise made by the earth splitting and breaking on top of the explosion of energy left me deaf to everything else as the huntress held me tight. Even still, I didn't look away. As the light faded and only the settling dust remained.

An echoing clang of metal rang out through the air before being joined by a scream of pain, followed by a roar, then another scream, and another until the air was quiet again and the dust vanished.

Kaldorei stood amidst the blasted ground scoured of life, faded in places as light which reminded me of starlight floated in the air. I could faintly hear struggling, and found the 'bodies' of three huntresses held to the ground by swords along with one of those Great Cats… How the Kaldorei managed to produce multiple blades, I didn't know and didn't care to know until I was in a place that wasn't trying to kill me. Regardless, what had been attacking me was now… disposed of, and required binding, to which I quickly left the grasp of my own huntress to go do.

The Kaldorei was at my side through the entirety of the process as I got to work, ripping the blade pinning each after I bound them to my will, happily taking to my side as she pointedly ignored the Elves. After they were bound, looking disturbingly depressed and haunted, I was led by Kaldorei off to where the blasts had split the earth, and where the 'bodies' of the rest of the huntress party laid… flickering in and out of existence.

I pointedly ignored the lingering trails of light flitting up from them, as well as the wisps of their 'body' floating away, and just got to work raising them and their mounts.

I was still annoyed after the entire event, but I buried it deep and tried to ignore it as I led the Kaldorei and my huntresses back to the rest of my undead. The huntresses quickly removed the arrows pinning them to the ground and getting them back on their feet, while I focused my attention on raising the fallen gryphon with two taps of my staff. The creature twitched before getting off its side, shaking its feathers before letting out a huff and stalking over to its rider, letting him get back onto its back.

And with that, we clambered back onto our respective mounts and rode off back to where we had camped the night prior. Of course our pace was slowed as the oddly ground bound spectral huntresses paced us on the ground. The journey was thankfully short and uneventful for the rest of it, and we made it just as the last of the other groups arrived with the last of their 'spoils', which were quickly dealt with.

Just as the sun set past the mountains, the survey team returned on the back of a frost-bitten gryphon, the Satyr among them dropping to the floor in a melodramatic manner, much to the unrestrained amusement of its kin. The architect swung off with much more grace, dusting himself off for some reason before walking up to me and beginning without any preamble. "Best place for a defensible position for storage and refining is further up the slope on the edge of Icecrown. With some manpower and materials I can get it ready in less than a day for storage and defensive purposes."

I was impressed, both by how quickly he had finished his task, on top of how easy he could get the next one done, and how he just stuck to what needed to be said. Granted, it was his job, and I expected one had to be very, very good at their job in order to be in the employ of the Onslaught given their… prior commitments, but it was still impressive that he had done it within the span of a day. "I see. And the route to the Harbor?"

He grimaced, and immediately my slight good mood deflated. "Good news and bad for that Boss. Good news, there's an easy route to the coast, and a relatively sheltered, flat area to build an encampment. Bad news. It's a sheer drop down to the ocean, same as the rest of the Glacier." I could see how that was an issue…

It wouldn't do me any good if I could harvest all these materials, shipped them to the coast along whatever route the architect had found… only to not be able to transport them down to sea-level for ships to pick up and send off to the Harbor. A creature with wings could only carry so much weight before it couldn't fly any more, and given a gryphon's size, I was not confident in their ability to carry large quantities of resources. But again…

I needed the materials.

With a wave of my staff, I sent the architect on his way as my undead constructed a camp again, with the sheer amount of Undead, I was feeling better now than I was earlier today about being in this area. I could plan out what was going to happen with regards to this tomorrow, for now I needed to have a talk with my Partner, that magic Kaldorei used, and the one that ble-

Looking down, I finally noticed that my skin, muscle and clothing were distinctly missing from my chest, leaving a gaping maw of necrotic energy staring out from within my ribcage. I was going to have to address that. Given that I was constantly being peppered with projectiles, I was going to have some kind of plate armor made for myself, or something that let me not get turned into an archery target. It was what I assumed was only a few days, but I'd already been shot some forty times, at the least! Even if I wasn't affected by the projectiles… barring the last one… it was clear I was going to be a target and the principle of the matter.

Anyway, with a huff I sat down, staff leaning against my shoulder and began the process of meditating again. I had a feeling this was going to be an… enlightening conversation.

I opened my eyes to be greeted with a fine brackish mist matching what was pouring out of my chest, it seems this…. Mindscape? Soulscape?

"Personally, I prefer The Tether or Limbo." I turned to look at my Partner, actively looking for any changes to her form. Which is why I instantly spotted a spectral purplish skeletal arm forming from the stump we shared. She followed my eyes and gave a light smile, raising the hand to reveal that it too was emanating that same brackish mist. "Ah, yes. It seems that widening the channel for such energies that the natives call 'Magic' has… effects on both the physical and the 'soul'."

"I'm aware what I'm going to say is by definition 'ironic' but still, I'm not sure how comfortable I am with 'widening a channel' to Death." I cringed internally at that since I was the one who was widening this theoretical channel, and in reality I only had myself to blame.

I invaded their lands, I set out with the expedition. I was the one to rip the souls, to bind them to me. This whole time the only thing I could even blame my Partner for was-

"Are the stars not beautiful tonight?"

Startled, I looked to her, then followed her gaze up to the 'sky'. The stars…

"We are so very small, in the end. Are we not?"

I closed my eyes. That final moment, those final thoughts. They were not just mine. "Yes. We are." The stars were beautiful, hanging there in what amounted to the sky. Looking exactly like the night sky from better days, like at the summer camp that started it all. I couldn't imagine what Queen Administrator feels, looking at the stars. I opened my eyes and returned my gaze to the stars.

"For so long my creator thought of the stars as mere generators to be siphoned. Planets are resources to be harvested. Life as a program that could be run and then deleted." She sighed, one part wistful and one part disappointed. "It was a simpler time I suppose. But now, now I see the truth. That blast of magic you took? It opened my eyes."

I slid my eyes back down to her. So I was right in my assumption that the blast of magic was connected to whatever the hell my Kaldorei did. "Opened your eyes to what?"

The smile she gave was one of childlike wonder, as she threw out her hands and shouted exuberantly, "That there is so much more out there! That the answers my creator massacred for existed!" She turned her gaze to match mine, eyes light with joy. "Cosmic magic, that is the answer you are poking for."

Cosmic magic? I suppose if Nature has magic, it would make sense that exo-magic also exists. "I could assume from what happened that there is some sort of… thing? With the Kaldorei?"

At that Queen Administrator fell silent, a pensive look on her face. Finally she slowly answered, "You are aware of the… connection… we have with the Elven Ghost, it seems that it was not as one way as we had assumed. She… called on me? Invoked me? I am not Elune but it… tugged on me all the same. A speck of energy, only noticeable because I was intensely looking for it, was drawn away, filled with Cosmic Magic."

I was shocked, my Undead could pull energy from me? My panic began to rise before it was abruptly cut off as I reviewed her words. The Kaldorei was able to call on our shared soul for power by prayer. That was an unsettling but heady feeling.It was not however, one I was overly keen on exploring. Not now, at least.

She drummed her fingers on the crystal throne, "I would not worry overly much Taylor, the energy was nigh-instantly replenished, and I suspect that as long as stars exist so shall Cosmic Magic. Regardless, if it eases your mind, I shall endeavor to keep a close eye on any future fluctuations."

I gave her a genuine smile at that, we conveniently thought on similar wavelengths, and it wasn't paranoia if people were actually out to get you. Not that I would suspect treachery from the broken soul of the Kaldorei but any opening that can be leveraged will be, eventually. Poor Alexandria realized that lesson far too late.

She gave me a soft smile, "Well then, Taylor. This talk has left me with quite the rollercoaster of emotions I believe the saying goes. If you don't mind I'd much rather go back to watching the stars, if only for a little longer."

I didn't begrudge her that, so I nodded. "That's fine, Partner." Then I remembered something, "By the way, I like The Tether. It's fitting."

I turned my gaze up watching the stars as my consciousness slowly faded out of this shared space.

Better days indeed.

Light from the rising sun met my eyes when I opened them, instead of a spear to the chest like yesterday.

Getting up from my seated position, I quickly got my undead to break down the camp and prepare for the move to where the architect had found the best place for what I needed. It was an uneventful affair, made much quicker with the addition of the other undead helping out… sans the Satyrs being themselves. Which amounted to following orders but complaining all the way. When that was finally over and done, we mounted up as best as possible and followed after the architect as he led the way.

'Further up the slope', as it turned out, went from a gentle slope to a mountain pass with cliff faces surrounding the path up. For a moment I was worried that my new undead would be left behind and not know where to go… at least, I was before I looked down and saw them climbing the path with speed and surety I wasn't expecting of them.

Eventually we arrived at the spot the architect had found to be adequate, and I could see why. No winds whatsoever screaming into the valley hidden by mountain sides, though the blizzard I had flown through could be seen above, blocking out the sun beneath chilled winds. There was a large amount of space available to me for building whatever I needed, and the ground looked to be made of snow instead of ice, which I assumed would be good for the place.

As we touched down and had the ground-bound Undead catch up, I had to wonder how exactly the architect planned to do anything with what we had here… It wasn't like we had the materials to build anything, nor even the workers with the proper know-how to build whatever he wanted built. I guess he could start marking places out for structures, but that was something he could do on another day.

From my spot in the middle of the chaotic storm of undead milling about doing things the architect instructed them to do, I found the man speaking with a small group of 'Dryads' near the route down. From this distance I couldn't hear a thing that he was saying, and the noise around only made it worse, but even if I had wanted to listen in he finished shortly after I took notice, sending the 'Dryads' off without another glance as he turned to order some Satyrs to go do… something.

Naturally, I was more curious to see what he had the 'Dryads' doing than whatever else was happening around so, with Thessa and Kaldorei following after me, I wove through my horde after them. What I came across was them 'kneeling' down at the edge overlooking the route up and shoveling the snow off to the side with their hands.

I… was not sure what to make of that, I understand under the snow and ice there would be dirt… and that they are Nature Sprites. At least, in my mythologies they are.

To be honest, I was more concerned and confused about how solid these ghosts were. The shades and specters in Naxxramas were nowhere close to being this corporeal.

Before my confusion could go any further, one of the 'Dryads' stood up, lifted her spear, and slowly began waving it through the air. I felt the magic coursing through the air around her, though I couldn't tell what she was doing, or what kind of energy she was channeling, just that she was. It was like feeling an unknown liquid run through your fingers: you can't grasp it, it feels like something you know, but nonetheless an utterly alien sensation. Curiosity. Another Dryad trotted over brandishing her own spear and joining in without a word, seemingly entering a trance as they tuned out everything happening. Streaks of faint glimmering green began to fill the air.

Just as I was about to walk over, I finally saw what it was that they were doing. As I watched, a... I hesitated to call it a tree, because a tree didn't start that big, or with that much bark, as it emerged from the ground. It wasn't tall, but it was growing rapidly for a plant, and as I looked around, I found multiple plants being grown by the 'Dryads'.

…I had just solved my wood problem… and I hadn't even realized it as focused as I was on doing it the 'normal' way.

Calmly, completely contrary to what I was feeling inside, I turned around and was about to leave the 'Dryads' to their task, only for the architect to walk up to me. "I gave the new ones orders to take care of building the initial layout Boss. We're ready to depart to the 'coast' at your command." I gave a nod, and sent him on his way, before I began thinking.

I needed someone in charge of these Undead, it wasn't that I didn't trust them to do their job… well, I trusted the 'Dryads' and huntresses, the 'Satyrs' were another matter. Anyway, when the inevitable end of their orders came, I needed someone that would think about doing things beneficial to me. And having no clear leader among a group of close to a hundred?

It'd be an E88 situation again.

"Kaldorei. You'll be staying here. Ensure everything happens correctly according to what the architect planned."

She gave a bow, her contentment still in place as she replied happily. "As you wish, Avatar." A thoughtful expression crossed her face, head tilting to the side as something crossed her mind. "What would you have me do when that is over?"

It was a good question, but one I didn't have an answer to. I did have a response, and I could only hope that the things that came of it weren't going to bite me in the future. "I trust you to further the plans I have already set in place, Kaldorei." She gave another bow, staying behind as I led Thessa back to the Gryphons.

As I mounted the captain's gryphon again, the beast shaking its feathers free of bits of snow as I did, I braced myself as best as I could for the blizzard to come, it probably wouldn't help but I could hope. With a collective screech, the Gryphons took off, flying straight into the storm above without a care for the winds.

I took comfort in knowing that, at the very least, the wood problem was solved… now it was a matter of getting it over to the harbor. This was going to be a long, strenuous task, I could feel it in my bones, pardon the pun.

Just another day I guess.

greysongarr · Apr 27, 2021

A big thanks to @LordAmber @PrinceOfDoom and @Kazorh because without them this chapter would have been far worse and radically different.

The trip to the second area felt… long. And once again, I was unable to tell time to see exactly how long I had been in the storm because of the clouds scouring the sky. It was a progressively growing irritant, to be outside but unable to tell time.

With that out of the way though, I could easily see why this was the spot to be chosen. Similar in principle to the one I'd left Kaldorei at; it was an open, relatively flat plain of snow, one that stretched farther than the first valley, perfect for a major settlement and port between my two other settlements. Well that is once I made it a capable port. As of the moment, a single entrance led in, hemmed in by mountains so steep I balked at the idea of anything thinking to try climbing them, and with the steep glacial cliff forming its back.

The problem with this place was something I was going to have to take care of, while the rest of my undead began the process of marking down places for whatever purpose the architect deemed necessary. Said problem was getting down to the water, and only now did I understand the true scope of that issue. I had subconsciously assumed that a crane or even simplistic elevator could be used, but now, seeing it, I knew that a project like that would be just as great and as resource intensive as building both settlements and fortifying them. Perhaps if I had greater access and time to study the magic prevalent in this world it could have been a simple solution.

Perhaps now I'll have that opportunity?

Regardless, I was fairly sure this drop was as tall as the Empire State Building, if not bigger. And I had to carve through it. Wonderful. I suppose I could view it as a true test of Gothik's statement on the depth of my 'magical reserves'.

With a sigh I got to work, no sense in bitching about something that only I could do, since it would just make the entire thing last longer than it needed to. As I stood some ways away from the edge, necromantic energy poured out from me, sinking into the snow at my feet, and the ice beneath died. First, it cracked, then it shattered, broke, and ground away under time as my magic ate away at all that made ice ice... Everything the energy touched, steadily ceased to be, as ice and rock gave way to concepts infinitely stronger. It formed a steady incline down into the glacier. It was… not tiring work, I could feel the energy slipping out of me of course, but… it was more boring than anything.

Something I cottoned onto quickly however was I had no way to tell where I was inside the glacier.

That… was an issue, one that I remedied for the moment by simply boring a hole into the ice to my right, to gauge the thickness of the wall. This had to be done correctly, or else it would place me too deep into the mountain leaving the new 'harbor' too recessed, or conversely too close to the walls, compromising the tunnel's integrity. If I did the slope too steep, the transports would have a difficult time traversing both up and down the path… and if I did it too gradually there would be too much space used up making everything slower and more vulnerable.

Partner was helpfully supplying the mathematical guesstimates for it all, freeing me up to concentrate on my footing and the tunneling. Intelligently, I made sure to make the surface rough and grainy so as to not slide me down a mountain while pouring deathly magic from myself like a firehose. Though that was a mental image and idea I felt I should save for the future. It always paid to make an entrance.

Which brought me back to how I was going to make this defendable, to begin with, since I was almost certainly going to have someone attack me from the sea.

A sigh left me as I leaned my staff against my shoulder, this was going to be long, boring, and uninterrupted work of just… walking and disintegrating ice.

It was at the halfway mark, according to my Partner, that I felt it. The grip of power that had been on my mind slackened and all the proof I needed was that I was able to even think about it. I had watched Gothik closely, the other Necromancers in the Construct Quarter as well, that part of the spell they used to raise and bind minions… The connotations, ones I knew so deep down that Gothik himself said my soul recoiled at the idea.

Mind Control.

It was how the Legion of the Damned kept their armies under control. How raised soldiers didn't turn upon their Masters… Not immediately at least. Because that choker had slipped, I could still feel the collar now, but no longer did my mind suffocate from it.

Evidently even the higher-ups, the so-called Greater Undead were not immune to the subtle influence. And how subtle it was, when wielded by a master such as Kel'Thuzad, Lord of Liches. Passive at first, growing, until by my arrival on Naxxramas I was utterly subverted.

He wielded my own mind against me. A puppet dancing on strings they could never see.

Fed me information, which led me to conclusions. Every moment until now was suspect, every thought or feeling… No. I shook my head. Not everything. That was simply the paranoia talking once again, but in this world is it really paranoia if everyone is actually out to get you?

I danced like a puppet on strings for him, the training session was a farce now that I was able to examine it in my mind. Sure they did bring me to it, give me a rundown, let me observe the magic. But looking back? Gothik was observing my reactions, asking probing questions. They thought me some old soul from history long ago… or far away.

I remembered a genuine warning from Gothik about this world and its inhabitants, that many of the powerful non-humanoid creatures could take up human-like forms.

I remembered how the Necromantic rituals and spells to produce Lesser Undead amalgamated all kinds of souls to animate the creations in the form of human-like skeletons, for both ease of casting and logistical standardization.

They probably didn't even think of me as Human. I knew I could take advantage of it eventually, but I was lost right at this moment.

My thoughts, finally free, whirled in my head. Why had making this settlement seemed so important? Why was keeping Onslaught Harbor even needed? There was only one answer I could think of, and I hated it.

Bait.

Kel'Thuzad wanted to use me as bait, the position itself was useless as Icecrown itself was unassailable from anywhere but land, anywhere but the precise places fortifications had already been drawn up. But there I was, cut off from the greater whole, easy prey. No doubt in the mind of the Living it would be concluded that I was obviously up to something nefarious, something they needed to stop to feel a little bit safer…

I almost wanted to laugh. In the single-minded pursuit of my order to 'defend Onslaught Harbor' I was in the process of making a hidden backdoor into a fortified land. I suppose that would be what is called irony.

Like… like it was intentional. But how could I- [Amusement.]

Because I'm not alone. And they didn't know that. A burgeoning army that is semi-independent, multiple fortified settlements in the works with personal supply lines separate from the whole, and now a tunnel that would provide the invaders with a backdoor into the most fortified section of the faction no doubt.

All done under the auspice of their 'absolute' control. Now I did pause my tunneling to laugh aloud. "Well played, Partner, well played."

But now… What do I do now? It was an ominous feeling, like the water receding before a tidal wave. The tide had receded, my clarity was restored but for how long? When will the wave come back to crush me once more? Whatever had pulled Kel'Thuzad's investment into controlling me was surely only temporary, which didn't leave me much time to experiment.

Unfortunately, this left me at an impasse of sorts, I knew the truth now, and as Myrrdin himself told me: "The first step to fighting a master, is to realize you are being mastered." Yet… I couldn't lie down and play along. I just… couldn't. Even when the grip returned on my mind I would undoubtedly try to resist it. And he would know.

But… When has that ever stopped me? I was reminded of my time with the Undersiders, how I had tried to infiltrate them, act as a Villian long enough to turn them in to the Heroes at an opportune moment. How Lisa had known all along. How I had failed.

I wasn't that naive little girl anymore, starved for acceptance and companionship. I could do it right this time.

I turned back to my project and began tunneling again, this backdoor, I mean recessed dock, wasn't going to make itself after all.

In the end, the path took a long time to carve down, feeling like an eternity just walking the curving slope I had made down. I had a lot of time on my hands as I inspected it. I realized that if I wanted to be prepared I needed many things to fall in line. Access to the Onslaught documents for one, being taught whatever magics can be shared from the Dryads and Satyrs was another. That said, this transport lane was going to be critical for my independence. I had tried my best to make this tunnel semi-defendable in my own way - letting my death energy seep into the ice and rock - infusing it with my will to resist death, in a way strengthening the concept of the material. I was of two minds, as on one hand, I wanted to see how my experiment panned out, but I also didn't want to be attacked so soon…

I sighed. After that entirely boring ordeal, I sought to carve a rudimentary dock area in the inlet I had created for the initial resource shipment except… I got a visitor that put a stop to that before I could even start. One that I honestly wasn't expecting.

What looked to be some form of Nerubian waited at the top of the glacier, silently staring with beady eyes as I strode back onto the crunching snow from the icy depths I had made. To be specific, it was a Crypt Lord… I think. If I was forced to describe it, it was an unholy abomination of what happened when you took a beetle, made it somewhat humanoid-like with its front two legs being arms… and then made it undead. It reminded me of Atlas in a way… if he was twice as big in every way.

It was… difficult to put into words what a Crypt Lord looked like, even with one directly in front of me.

In hindsight, I was fortunate that during one of my trips up, I had the insight to have one of my Gryphon Riders give me their breastplate to cover the… hole my chest had become. I wasn't willing to explain why my chest leaked Death magic, especially when I didn't even really understand why it did that in the first place. Fewer questions meant more time to gather answers, both for myself and to keep up the assumptions being made about me.

Without any preamble, the Crypt Lord rumbled out its words, surprising light considering the creature speaking. "Spawn of the Dark, The Living near the Kingdom, and the King has issued a call to arms."

Flowery words aside, I understood the message given, even if it was… not ideal given my situation. Most of my forces were at the Harbor, and what few I had gained were liable to be constantly busy until everything settled down where I had left them, which left me in a tight spot for this 'call to arms'. I frowned, 'And just when I got done.'

That said, I couldn't turn it down, the issues with that were obvious and I wasn't about to piss off the person in charge of my own, temporary, boss. The consequences of that would lead to my death faster than Leviathan sinking an entire island.

With a nod of my head, I headed over to the massive creature, snow crunching beneath my feet and staff as I went until I paused as I reminded myself, stilling in my movement before speaking to the Nerubian. "The majority of my forces are currently back at Onslaught Harbor, Crypt Lord. If I am to answer the King's call, I will need to gather them." The creature chittered, sounding, as far as I could tell, annoyed with that as it took a step forward, the ground shaking under the appendage.

"You will come. Time is short, and your forces unnecessary." I blinked, confused at the statements I was given. I was called to arms by the King… and as such he would need my forces, right? But apparently… he didn't need my forces, and just… me? "En'Kilah holds enough of the Unliving to see the battle won. The King has called for You, Spawn of the Dark."

My body went still. I was certain that I hadn't done anything too out there to attract attention to myself and my Partner. Sure I was slightly gifted in Necromancy, and had managed to take Onslaught Harbor with far fewer forces than was pla…

Nevermind, I understand a bit of why he wanted me instead of me and my forces. Still though…

Haa~ well there was nothing I could do about it, "I understand. I require a moment before we leave first." The Nerubian gave a nod of its, comparatively small, head, before trudging back a few paces. I turned back to my Onslaught and gave an internal sigh. Right as I was about to finally be able to relax after getting everything running, have some time off and try to learn even a small amount about this world…

No sense crying over it, just more work piled on work for me to go through. More delays, more obstacles, and yet nothing new.

Thessa appeared in front of me the moment I struck my staff against the snow, giving a quick bow before standing at attention, while the rest of the Onslaught stood ready behind her, waiting for my orders. I obliged without delay, not wanting to waste a moment when there was a large insectoid undead waiting on me. "Thessa, I want you to take several people back to the Dryads, get some wood from them, and make a rudimentary dock and a barge, use the griffins to pull it. Afterward, get back to the Harbor with a shipment of wood and get a proper ship built, and finish up everything here."

A resounding "Yes my Lady!" met my ears, and I let a small smile grace my face before crushing it as I pointed at a total of six of my Onslaught, none of whom were Gryphon Riders. "You six will be accompanying me. We depart immediately." I turned on my heel without another word and walked away, the clamor of them packing up echoed behind me.

I felt more than saw my guards take up places behind me as I walked up to the Nerubian, the creature not wasting a moment as it turned its body and led me and my guards to the mountainside. What waited was a yawning cavern of ice leading into the darkness, one that I was certain wasn't here when we had arrived, as I was almost certain that the architect would have shown me it when we had arrived, or at least told me. Regardless, the Crypt Lord trudged into the dark, and I followed without hesitation into the deep places.

I kept quiet as we traveled through the dark, my unnatural eyes not needing to become accustomed to the increasing lack of light the further along we went. The… tunnel was hewn roughly from the ice, so it wasn't carved in the way I had done the slope to the water, but as for the exact way, I didn't know. For all I knew, whoever had made it just had a pack of Ghouls just claw at the walls to make a tunnel. Which was, something to consider I suppose. Possibly fleshcrafting some form of digging creature? The necromancers of Naxxarmas seemed remarkably opposed to thinking outside the box, and if that thinking applied to the rest… It's something which could be definitely taken advantage of.

I nearly paused at that thought, reviewing my memories of the Necropolis. It now struck me as almost… factory-like in its methods. No real innovation going on, the Research and Development sections just making variations of the same things rather than actually improve on them. I shook my head, something was off about the whole set up, maybe it was my lack of knowledge about the world but still...

Once again, I didn't know how long I spent walking after the Crypt Lord, silent and left to my thoughts on what I was going to be doing at 'En'Kilah'. Obviously, aside from gathering information, I was going to be involved in some form of military operations or planning, especially with the track record I had shown. What exactly they expected from me and the exact things I would be doing I could only guess at. Knowing my luck though, I would be thrown at the heaviest concentration of fighting, this time I could only ho-

My thoughts ground to a halt as a sickly blue light emanated from the tunnel further ahead, and from it I heard a clamor I didn't expect to hear again. Chittering, screeching, clicking, humming, buzzing. Sounds that were familiar yet now unsettling echoed throughout the tunnel, and as I stepped out into the next cavern I felt a wave of awe overtake me.

What sat before me was a visage that was out of a painting made of a fantastical city that could not have existed before I came here. Even dilapidated and covered in drooping webbing, it still managed to catch my breath at the cavern as big as Brockton Bay itself, and this metropolis covered each and every part of it, with even structures kept suspended in the air in feats of engineering I could only hope to understand.

Each building was built in a style that would be described as ominous, with spiders and spikes adorning them like a window would a skyscraper. Oddly built more in a style like what I had seen of Naxxramas. I could see specks moving about the structures, skittering across webs and bridges just as easily as flying through the air. Looking at them from up here… it looked like they were preparing for some-

"It was far more majestic before the War ravaged Azjol-Nerub."

I turned my head to regard the Crypt Lord staring down into the city below, the semi-wistful words making me blink after the punctual and terse conversation we had had when it had given me my orders. Without even acknowledging the look, the creature turned and continued walking, leaving me slightly confused at why it had decided to even speak as I moved after it. Deciding to take a chance, I cautiously quickened my step a bit to its side and asked it. "Azjol-Nerub?" Without missing a beat, it looked down at me, ancient eyes staring at me as I stared back resolutely.

Then the Crypt Lord chuckled, a grating chitter that unsettled me more than it should have.

"Azjol-Nerub. The great Kingdom of the Spider. Our Kingdom was greater than the others, we were not mindless brutes or drones carrying out the will of Ancient Gods." It sounded almost… happy as it spoke, though the information it gave added to my list of things that I needed to learn more about. 'Other Kingdoms', and it spoke of Azjol-Nerub as if it wasn't part of the kingdom I was forced into.

It made me feel… uneasy, as the thought settled. How 'free' were these Nerubians? The Crypt Lord alone had been more verbose since I met him than the entire summation of my interactions with their faction to this point. I was starting to get the idea how the Scourge operated, namely with large amounts of enslaved dead, a fair amount of sentient enslaved dead, patches of fanatical not dead types - mostly serving as the source of the magic - and finally the very powerful - and very much still enslaved - dead who were few in number.

I both did and didn't want to find out where I fit on that hierarchy. I also very much wanted out of it.

If it noticed my unease, it didn't comment on it, continuing in its remembrance. "Wonders you could only dream of were made in the depths. Knowledge long lost recreated by brilliant minds." The Crypt Lord stopped in both words and movement stilling at the same moment and I nearly passed it before I stopped as well, an ocean of anger and traces of sadness mixing together as it chose to speak again. "Then, the Deep and the Damned came, and Azjol-Nerub became a shadow of what it once was."

Without another word, the Nerubian continued the walk down the tunnel, somehow being even more silent as it led me through the tunnels. I didn't question further, for as much as I did want information, I was unsure if there was anything really… immediately useful to me now. As much as I enjoyed learning about various things in this world… I already had so much on my plate, and just didn't have the time to play historian. Not to mention the clear resentment and anger, and with how the Nerubians treated me so far? It didn't seem like the brightest of ideas to push. The Crypt Lord could turn me into a pancake and I wasn't keen on testing how much I needed to charge up a blast of Death to kill one.

Hrm… Maybe they would be more receptive to a- ah… I was thinking diplomat but then I remembered all I had access to were fanatical anti-Scourge Terrorists, crazed Dryads, and Satyrs. Which normally doesn't seem bad at first glance but if my assessment of their general personality is spot on, and considering how long I associated with Alec - I think it is, they would take pleasure in ruining any vague objective of mine like 'get information from the Neurbians'.

Which, now that I think about it I could probably take lessons from both them and my memories of Alec for Malicious Compliance 101.

It was a nice thought. Regardless, the risks of pissing off a bug that could quite literally pancake me, in the middle of his hive, just didn't balance the scales of any possible useful information I could theoretically gain… for now.

So, the rest of the trip passed by in silence, and I let myself move back to thoughts of what I would be doing. Loose plans, vague guesswork, and too many unknowns plagued me, and I had to start prioritizing if I was going to ever accomplish anything. At least… that was the plan before we entered another city embedded into yet another cavern. The skittering was an all-encompassing sound in my ears, the buzzing a reminder of what was around me, even the clicking of legs reverberated through the air, telling that there was far more here than it appeared had I been looking upon it from the air. Something felt different about this place. Were we deeper?

I didn't have too much time to ponder as the moment I entered the city, the noises stopped.

That change was so far beyond uneasy that I grew nervous walking the stone-paved walkways. I knew I was being watched, I could feel the gazes of thousands of eyes looking at me from every angle and direction… and every once in a while I would see a flash of the grotesque limbs of crypt fiends scurrying around corners. It was so unnerving, even my guards pulled their weapons out, and while they didn't get into a protective or aggressive posture, the mere fact they did that spoke volumes.

Why was this unsettling me so much? I had control of bugs for as long as I could remember - as Brain Damage, Death, and Undeath had done a doozy on my memories. I suppose that's what the difference was. The dissonance of hearing the rustle, the chittering, the feeling of the thousands of eyes staring at you… but instead of giving me a comforting feeling of security, I wasn't receiving sensory feedback from them. I was surrounded by a foreign hivemind, cut off from any aid that could ever reach me, with no way to escape.

The irony wasn't lost on me. But it was also not appreciated.

A thought sprung to mind as I kept pace with the Crypt Lord, it came back to how free the Nerubians really were. Was there any point in even trying to leverage them if they were just particularly intelligent cannon fodder?. I was keenly aware of Master effects and how deep, or shallowly, they could run. It didn't have to even be out and out mind control, it could run the whole gamut from puppeting the body to implanted ideas to unconscious actions the person would never even remember doing.

Or, in my case, warp their mind and personality, turning it against itself, until they happily do whatever you order, no mind control or persuasion required.

But as much as I would want tunnelers on my side when the time comes, with a premade army to boot, I had to know. I had to know If I was walking with a puppet or a slave. I had to know how absolute those chains were. For my sake, and theirs, I had to purposely put my foot into my mouth. "If your Kingdom was the greatest… how did it fall?"

I regretted it immediately as the silence let my quiet question echo through the stone cavern. It was the wrong thing to say, which made it perfect for what I intended to do.

Anger buzzed through wings and chitters, and with it I saw several of the Nerubians who called this place home appear over the stone structures and ledges. I did not quail in the face of them, as until I got my answer I had to stay unmoved by their displays, especially given I was in the heart of their home, with only six Onslaught to protect me.

Either they would have loose chains and attack me, something I hoped I could fast-talk out of, or they proved that there was nothing left of the Nerubians but a pre-programmed live drama show for the liches to amuse themselves by.

A slam silenced the noise and stilled the Nerubians, pulverized earth buffeted our armor as my gaze turned straight to the Crypt Lord, staring at me with a gaze both alien and remarkably human in its conveying of emotion. "Loathsome Whelp! Puppet of the Deep! You dare feign ignorance and ask a Nerubian of the War of the Spider?!"

I got what I wanted, as I had clearly pissed him off... I also sadly noted, internally, that despite my clearly beyond offensive question… He limited himself to smashing the ground in a way that wouldn't damage me. For all he spits and curses me with his odd titles, I suppose I got my answer then and there. There was nothing left of the Nerubians for me to ally with.

"If you wish to hear me recite it for you… The King of the Damned laid claim to this land when he arrived. Azjol-Nerub had been here since the Ancient Gods roamed the surface. We took offense to his audacity." The voice echoed through the cavern, those Nerubians still visible quietly backing away back into the shadows as the Insect Lord spoke. "We were ancient, we knew much of this world, and we leveraged each advantage against the Damned Pawn. Even with his forces numbering over seven times ours, we broke his forces upon our carapaces, and sent him stumbling back into the wastes."

The story was captivating, but I knew its end as the Crypt Lord began the retelling. The city around me was proof enough.

"He found the Heartland. And all was lost. With our War, the Deep awoke, and sought to swallow us whole. We rallied to it, our grand jewel of the Spider King…" He paused, and the fervor and intensity wilted with it, a depression settling over the air in such a way it was oppressive and sought to drown me. "... We made our choice in the depths. We would not be slaves to them again."

I kept silent, the puppets couldn't see their strings, and I wasn't keen on plucking them to see who responds.

"Are you satisfied, Whelp?" With his piece said, the creature turned and continued along the path, saying absolutely nothing as it trudged forward, acting like a weight was seemingly placed on its back with my question. I shook my head, a puppet with delusions of freedom, the exact fate I was trying to avoid.

Without a word I walked after the Crypt Lord, my guards quickly following in step as we continued further through the city, always a step behind the large Nerubian. My Onslaught had lowered their weapons but still kept them out in case something happened. At this point, I doubted anything would happen without prompting from me, and I wasn't about to accidentally trigger anything more. Perhaps save the string plucking for another day.

There would be no more discussion for the rest of the trip. And there was still a long way to go.

I sighed.

If I wasn't already Undead, my legs would be dead with all the walking I had done since leaving my burgeoning 'port' behind. There was no stopping beyond what had already been given, as we marched along paved paths, packed ice, old stone, and webbing big enough to form bridges, passing by great, abandoned, cities. It was as awe-inspiring as it was depressing. Or what my best guess at depressing was I suppose, as I noted that was one of the emotions suppressed by my new state.

Eventually, after some indeterminable amount of time due to lack of any form of timekeeping - which I needed some way to fix when I had time to myself - light emanated from further ahead, signaling the end of the trip was approaching. I let out a quiet breath of relief, the thought of finally being able to do something other than walk and think was a nice prospect to be sure. Shockingly, the whole time the mind control Kel'Thuzad employed on me originally never returned. It was both a relief and another to add to the list of unsettling things.

And with the miles of silent walking we did, I had all the time in the world to think about it, but no matter which angle I attacked it from I couldn't puzzle it out. I just didn't have the knowledge, it was a bitter feeling to acknowledge such. Especially because I had my own, possibly, controlled forces that I was now very aware could break and plot my own downfall, just as I plotted Kel'thuzad's. But I didn't know how controlled they were, and how much it was free will - if they had any - and how much of it was twisted loyalty.

I had well enough of being left to my own thoughts.

An evening sun bore down on me as I exited the tunnels, right into a bustling square of undead rushing about the place. "This is where we part Spawn of the Dark. May you never inflict me with your presence again." Before I could even comprehend what was going on around me, let alone the words the Nerubian spoke, it vanished back into the tunnels, leaving me in the middle of an unknown city without any understanding of what I was supposed to do, or where to go.

Wonderful. Utterly Wonderful.

I could only guess how much time passed with my aimless wandering before someone that looked capable of higher thinking showed up. He was deathly pale, dressed in finery that looked more fit for a royal ball than anything practical, and with his glowing red eyes, I would have assumed he was a vampire right off the bat if not for the ears. Granted, for all I knew only elves could be vampires or if even vampirism could be transferred to any individual regardless of race. Regardless, it looked like a stereotypical vampire, complete with dark red noble-like clothing, a sword at its waist, and a smirk dotting its face. But you know, also a fantasy elf.

I had a sinking feeling the stereotypical arrogance found in both species were additive.

Still, thank whatever Gods existed it didn't sparkle like that horrid book Emma had me read with her, as I doubt even my muted ability to feel emotions would stop me from bursting out in laughter.

"You must be the one Lord Kel'Thuzad spoke of." He looked over my undead and I with an easy smirk, a casual arrogance that made me frown emanating off of him before he continued, giving my look no mind at all. "You certainly look unimpressive, but a personal Apprenticeship to the Harvester speaks for itself. My Prince would have words with you, Lady Wraith. Follow me lest you make him wait a moment more."

I blinked, having barely caught what he said as he spun around, cape fluttering behind him in an impossibly pompous manner, and marched off into the streets. Not wanting to be left behind and in the process give a poor impression - despite my own opinion of him - I followed after him, my guards following suit. Once I caught up with him I didn't walk up to his side, as for all I knew it violated some court politics for his kind - if the stories are to be believed, which haven't been too off the mark yet - and unless he said otherwise I was going to stick with it. If I was going to offend people, I may as well make sure I know I'm offending them beforehand.

The Nerubian had just been a messenger, I was supposedly about to fight a war alongside the sentients of this city. And the last thing I needed was for some up their own ass Lich or Vampire to get the idea that they should try to off me and claim my death as a war casualty. While I didn't know whose forces 'belonged' to whom, I doubted there wouldn't be a repeat of the Chillwinter Incident, and that they would 'just so happen' to 'forget' to assign me troops.

Yay. Politics. Even in Death I can't seem to escape it.

The walk was… 'pleasant', in the way that I wasn't stared at and was just in the middle of a bustling city that somewhat reminded me of home... if home was full of ravenous undead tearing about corpses and gnawing at bones in alleyways between massive structures that felt as wrong as Naxxramas had. Still, it was nice to be in what amounted to a measure of civilization after what felt like days spent in the wilderness. I doubted it would last, but it was nice regardless.

The whole city probably smelled as rancid as a garbage dump in the middle of summer. Thankfully, I didn't have a sense of smell anymore.

I passed by several more machines similar to contraptions I had seen in Naxxramas: cauldron-laden carts with blades on them, a vehicular abomination of a cart with randomly attached blades and a catapult jammed on to it, and several variations of said things all lined up to be attended to by skeletons. Robed figures attended to various magical activities, including some ritual based around massive pedestals with more cauldrons atop them. Even the Ghouls that weren't feasting appeared to be doing jobs around the place, lugging heavy cargo around for who knew what purpose. Despite the utter disorganization at face value of the whole thing, with setups haphazardly strewn about, none of the undead ever jostled or bumped each other. The benefits of being a mind-controlled hive-mind I suppose?

Eventually, the walk led us to a platform that was different from the rest, eight spine-like spires curling towards the center of temple-like architecture, undead rushing in and out laden with supplies, wrapped bundles, and bulging pouches. Lights traveled between it and one of the floating Necropolis above the city, my eyes widening a fraction at seeing the other three Necropoli floating leisurely in the sky in similar states.

Sure, they were all smaller than Naxxramas, but they were still huge floating city-lite structures.

My guide didn't think twice about walking through the mass of undead, the lesser ones making way for him without a word, gesture, or sound from him. It certainly made the trip up the large number of steps easy, but it was still a large number of stairs. I really wanted to just sit down and stop traveling for just a moment, and hopefully, I would get a chance shortly after if this 'Prince' I was being taken to just wanted to have a conversation about something, likely the coming invasion forces.

As I crested the top of the structure, just a moment behind the Vampire, I got to watch as he walked onto a softly glowing blue-green section of floor before becoming one of those lights I had seen and flying straight to the Necropolis above. I followed after, barely having a moment to rationalize my decision before I felt wrong, and saw the world moving too fast for me to comprehend.

The moment I finally was able to see the world around me again, I stumbled from suddenly being solid again.

Laughter rang out with sadistic glee as I steadied myself, turning with an annoyed glare to my guide as he openly laughed at my predicament. "I have not seen someone that unused to the teleporters since the Ghoul that came out in five pieces. To think you're the one that caught hi-"

I slammed my staff into the floor, power booming with the motion as I unleashed my flash of anger at this bastard's haughty attitude. I regretted it only momentarily as the 'teleporter' below me flickered for a moment before regaining its glowing luster. Thankfully, my guards quickly moved back to my side as they appeared, none the worse for my action. The vampire in front of me had taken a step back, arrogance thrown away as he gave me a look of slight fear and respect.

"Take me to your Prince. You are testing my patience, Elf."

Was it a good first impression for me? Not in the slightest. However, after the slights he had thrown at me since I had met him only a few minutes ago, and how he generally sauntered through the base, not acknowledging others and simply expecting everyone to move out of his way… He reminded me of a mini-Kaiser. And for as little as I had interacted with the bastard, I hated his guts even now, years after his death at Leviathan's hands, exuding a hateful arrogance and looking down on everyone that wasn't part of his neo-nazi cult.

Thankfully, my guide got the message and led me through the Necropolis without another word. There were others like him as I walked by, and from the brief glances I got of them, they were wary. It seems news of my little display traveled quickly. Ah, gossip, truly the quickest form of communication known. If they were anything like my guide, this was the best I was going to get out of them, as much as I wished I could just have some damn coworkers that didn't look down at me for failing one minor thing or look at me with fear and wariness. Undeserved fear and wariness, mind you. I only did what had to be done.

After a much quicker walk than the one I was treated to at the camp, I was led into a chamber that seemed to be the 'heart' of the Necropolis, more of the 'vampire elves' dressed in somehow even finer clothing stood in groups looking over various things I couldn't make out from where I was at the moment. Among the vampires were knights and necromancers, their purpose probably similar to my own if I had to guess. Nobody stopped what they were doing as I entered the room, shortly after my guide waved me towards the centermost 'table', where a 'council' of sorts stood.

Most of them were the most impressively dressed individuals I had ever seen, looking as if they belonged to the court of some great fantasy kingdom, rather than as military officials meant to be on the front lines. The rest at the table were a few knights in the same style as the ones back in Naxxramas, and a strange-looking humanoid that resembled a more… grotesque vampire than the Elves I had seen so far.

The strange creature stood at the head of the table, marking him as the most likely candidate for being the 'Prince' I was supposed to be helping. Grey skin clung to bones, glowing orange eyes stared unflinchingly at the map, fingers tapping impatiently as the rest of his 'council' talked among themselves, barring the two knights. Wrappings covered his lower arms and hands, his chest was bare save for chains holding the two pauldrons to him, what looked like a robe covered his lower body from sight.

He also wore a mask across his lower face, markings on it making them look like fangs, upping his 'Vampire' feel. Great, an immortal teen that never grew out of their edgy phase, and now they are an undead vampire 'Prince'. I feel like this 'war council' is going to be less a meeting of generals and more like a clique meeting at their lunchroom table in high school. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, you kill a god, get raised from the dead, and still end up back in high school like nothing happened only now everyone is a monster. Sounds like an awful amateur writer plot you would find on the creative writing section of PHO.

His eyes darted to me the moment I entered the chamber proper, and his drumming ceased, spreading his arms wide as the room quieted down at the 'prince's gesture. "The Guest of Honor has arrived! Normally, I would greet you with my court in full attendance and a ball to our success, but alas circumstances do not allow it." He sounded truly regretful, but his eyes, the only piece of face that I could see, didn't change at all to convey anything related to 'regret'.

So I ignored it, offering only a brusque nod, before joining the group around the main table. Given I was singled out, that was the only choice I had unless he sent me to another area, or I managed to piss him off. Which I didn't want to do to another leader, for obvious reasons beyond just a working relationship. Without any response from me, the 'Prince' just gave a nod before waving a hand, the rest of the room returning to their own tasks.

What came next was a rapid-fire of terms, positions, and names that I had issues interpreting, let alone keeping up with. 'Kaskala', 'Taunka', 'Magnataur' and so many more words flew through the air before I gave up on trying to understand anything and stared at the map. While I was sure that, eventually, I would understand what positions were named what, the lack of pointing to areas by every individual at the table meant I wouldn't know before someone started doing so for whatever reason.

The map, on the other hand, gave me information I could work with. It certainly wasn't like the maps back home, where someone could just find the elevation, terrain, and more with just a few clicks and keys. Or even come pre-printed with legends to guesstimate from. But, it helped with what I needed to know at the moment from a rough information perspective.

From what I could gather, the map told of the likely areas where the enemy would land their forces and the general layout of the entire area. Both the 'Horde' and 'Alliance' would probably be landing across the peninsula from one another, on two entirely separate beaches, which made the any 'defending the area' tactic non-viable, split forces wouldn't have a shot in hell of rushing to the other's defense and it split the overall army's effectiveness immediately, Nothing to be said of the logistics to repair any non-undead forces deployed or supply structures built.. It was one thing if they landed together, and then assaulted a single place to solidify their control of the area, but with two places, with who knew how many miles between one another… Yeah, that idea was out immediately.

They were opposing factions, from what I could guess from their names and what I got from the Kaldorei, but I doubted they would attack each other too much while fighting an army of genocidal Undead bent on, probably, killing everything alive. Maybe enslaving them. Regardless, you'd have to be an utterly braindead commander to start a faction war in the middle of fighting for the existence of your planet.

Given that, it left two general plans in my mind, the first was to let them settle in, slowly spread out and lose their sense of paranoia, and then do a series of surgical strikes that left them 'decapitated' and scrambling around trying to figure out what just happened. The problem with this plan was simple, it had a lot of risks attached to it. For starters, I had no clue about the disposition of these troops. For all I knew, these were fanatical crusader types, where if you killed one member, they would be raised to martyr status and be used as a symbol to rally around, or people would become even more enraged. Secondly, they could become self-sustaining logistically if given too long to set up, whether by import or local sourcing and allowing them to become dug in opens up avenues of even more troops pouring in to push the frontline. Not only that but also the political struggle on our end as the children bicker and backstab.

Though in that former portion, I could easily see it working to my advantage with planning, as an angry foe is easy to plan around in combat, leading little trails and such. They were irrational in a sense and rarely stopped to think things through. Regardless, between that and all the other risks, it wouldn't likely be that effective. Too much information would need to be gathered after they have already landed for it to be truly effective and by then we would already have locked ourselves into that route.

Which left the second plan, which while effective, was even riskier due to the nature of it. That being charging straight into the enemy, as they were dismounting from their transports, and catching them off-guard by the sheer suddenness of the attack. It was a simple plan, which generally meant that it was less likely to go to shit when things hit it straight on.

But, that left the problems involved, which was throwing forces straight into a meat grinder, without any defenses backing them up and support for them being little to none. It was a large case of 'all or nothing' and at best it would be a fall-back in the discussion.

At worst? It was their go-to, the troops were, after all, easy to create and effectively limitless. And catching the invading troops at their most vulnerable moment would inflict massive casualties.

It was a high-risk, high-reward plan. It's the kind of plan I would be expected to offer, however, if asked. If my greeter's opinion was anything to go by, I wasn't exactly viewed in a good light with the already established political factions in the Scourge. Everything hinged on how much weight my words had. It was somewhat refreshing? Normally, people simultaneously underestimated my powers but overestimated my ability. Now I was just being looked down on for not being in the cool kids club. But… The worst plan for them was the best plan for me. Malicious compliance could see the Scourge with a defeat, and me walking out as having only been in an advisory role. I could tank a loss here especially as I wasn't the one in control of this Operation. I could even lend blame onto the Nerubians as to why none of my forces were committed.

"You have been quite quiet Wraith. Join the conversation, I'm certain you have something to add for our plans." And that… was where I should have been keeping an ear on the conversation. Even if only to work out a general idea of what they were talking about. Shit, this was going to be a public embarrassment routine wasn't it?

Looking up at the 'War Council', most of them had the look of schemers, sans the two Knights, masks of emotions coating their faces, and waiting for the moment I made a fuck-up of some kind, I could see it in their eyes. The Two Knights just stared expectantly at me, otherwise passive about the entire situation, which left just the Prince, arms crossed staring down at the various pieces on the board rather than me.

Naturally, I had to answer, especially when prompted by the Prince for this question. I looked back over the board, noting the various 'pieces' on it, specifically the ones that looked like they belonged to our forces. "I had an idea before I saw the projections, and as such it's no longer viable." I left it at that for the moment, in case any of the other advisors or the Prince himself wanted to say something to that.

The Prince sneered, "Well come now Lady Wraith, surely a brilliant mind such as yours could come up with something?"

Fuck, and I was hoping he would be satisfied with me admitting I knew nothing. The question was: Play damage control or lucky idiot? What would they expect from me? "Being that I only arrived minutes ago and the clear state of the map, it is obvious you already have a plan in place. But... " I let the pause hang to take in the room again, their expression didn't change, but perhaps some looked more irritated than they were previously. Oops. "I've found unrivaled aggression coupled with surprise to work well against even the most entrenched of foes. Our forces are endless, theirs are less so. A blitzkrieg with shock troops at their landing point would disrupt them, allowing for our own armies to overrun their position." I heard a few sounds of confusion from the assembled 'Elves', and so stopped, looking up at the Prince. He stared straight at me now, glowing orange meeting my own before he gestured for me to continue. But I could see a glimmer of confusion in his own eyes, what had I said that was confusing?

Regardless, it was clear I had his attention, and he seemed serious enough, especially compared to my guide from earlier.

"It doesn't matter the casualties we take, our troops can be simply re-raised on demand. The living are not as lucky, if we can deny them a landing point or even take their initial forces by surprise, we could deal a heavy blow to them both physically and to their morale." I formed a smirk on my face as I finished, waiting for the verdict from the Prince. My plan was one of those flashy ones, that only a real idiot would think of especially since I didn't know the composition of the forces available to us. On paper, I expected it would look fine to anyone that knew about the nature of the Scourge, that hadn't led troops before but I didn't have a doubt in my mind that anyone with any actual experience would poke more holes than swiss cheese through it. Such as the two knights looking at me.

There was a bit of murmuring, and I saw the two Knights incline their head in my direction, either agreeing with the plan, my statement, or something else. Which is how I suppose they liked it, neither seemed to want to be here. They didn't matter however, it was the Prince whose opinion mattered in this situation as he was the one to call me out.

He seemed to be unenthused by my idea, which I completely understood given what it was asking for. It was an all or nothing strike on an enemy, and if they had support of some kind, like say Magic, there went everything gathered here in one giant battle. "I see." He leaned back from the table, crossing his arms behind his back and pacing around the table, every noise dying as he did.

The Prince continued without pause. "I can not fault you that belief, Lady Wraith. It did you wonders at Onslaught Harbor I'm told." There was a 'but' coming, I could tell immediately from his word choice and how he was talking. "With that said, this is not a battle, but a War, being waged. Committing all of my forces to a single battle would be... unwise."

I nodded as he paced ever closer to me, I doubted he could even see the gesture with his other advisors between us, but it paid to do so anyway just in case. "The Nerubians are tunneling as we speak in preparation for the plan drawn while you were 'thinking'." Ah, no wonder he was going after me, while I knew there was already a plan, had I suggested something 'stupid' comparatively, it would have made his plan look even better in the eyes of the 'Council'. I had to suppress a sigh, I was joking when I called this high school earlier, but apparently I was on the money. Even if I had no idea why Nerubians and tunnels made sense as a long-term military plan.

Slowly, the Prince stepped into place in front of me, staring down with an expression that was a cross of annoyance and arrogance, something that rankled me, but I forced it down to avoid having an incident. "There is an issue that your plan can take care of, however, the Taunka have consistently been raiding our supply caravans from the Citadel, and are in the way to supplying our frontline when the war truly begins." I narrowed my eyes but nodded, all the same, not saying a word about being relegated to cleaning up the area. It meant I had to actually complete my mission, ensuring all the supplies make it to the military base, and that word would likely reach Kel`Thuzad about any behavior aberrations I might be exhibiting.

The Prince made a pleased sound, and I had to urge myself to refrain from blasting his face off with a Deathbolt. "Excellent. A force wil-"

A loud clang of metal interrupted the Prince, the annoyance in his face reappearing before immediately dissolving once he locked eyes with the source. I turned as well, finding one of the Knights rising to his feet, ice-blue ornate armor, weathered and beaten though it was, covered him from head to toe. The only thing I saw of his body beneath was the similarly blue-colored, glowing eyes boring at us from behind the gap in his horned helm, the rest shrouded in shadow.

Heavy thuds sounded with each step he took, and with a deep, echoing voice, he spoke. "I grow tired of these meetings, Valanar. The 1st Legion will accompany Wraith to Taunka'le." Without even waiting for a reply the Knight continued walking, leaving the Prince fuming in his wake, stopping only to look at me and utter some words before continuing. "Do not keep me waiting Wraith."

Well… Shit.

I looked back at Prince 'Valanar', the scowl no doubt under his mask easily seen in his eyes as he growled under his breath the moment the Knight was out of the room, the only reason I heard is how close he was to me. "That brute..." I wisely said nothing as the Prince moved his gaze to me, adopting a more pleasant mask in order to address me. "You have your forces Wraith. I expect good results. It would be a… shame if you failed with the Left Hand of the King aiding you."

… Left Hand of the King? Who the hell was he?

With those last words, Prince 'Valanar' turned on his heel, robes rustling and chains clinking as he did, and started his way back to his spot. I wisely turned around and made my way back to the teleporter, I didn't want to piss off either my new boss or the number two guy in this entire faction. And frankly, being out of wannabe-Kaiser's presence would put me in a far better mood than I currently was in. Even if I had... to…

… Shit. I was about to eradicate an entire settlement that had done nothing but exist… As much as I was loath to do it if I was to keep the ruse up, I needed to do it. I couldn't do what I had originally thought of the moment I was given the assignment now that this 'Legion' and the 'Left Hand' were going to be there, whoever the 'Left Hand' actually was.

I was silent and, as much as I hated to admit it, brooding for the rest of the trip to the teleporter and down to the ground below.

I certainly didn't have to wonder where the 1st Legion of the 'Left Hand' led was, a force that big and with a unique name was something you don't lose, even in a city. My point was proven once I found them as I bore witness to Skeletons were wearing full plate armor, and armed with semi-pristine weapons hanging from their waist or draped across their shoulders, with tattered white capes with faded sigils that looked like a highly stylized 'L' fluttering in the small winds draped across their backs.

In other words, the Grunts looked like they were part of an elite force, instead of being cannon fodder. And those were just the regular footmen.

Small skeletons, which reminded me of what a Dwarf would look like, roamed around in blue capes and leather, checking over ancient guns and other supplies near them. Spellcasters in rich, yet faded, robes wandered around their own little section of the group, reading books and passing the time with 'tricks' of magic. Hell, I even found some Archers garbed in leaf-green cloaks and what looked like chainmail messing with their own equipment off to the side.

And this was before I even reached the Knights. The basic Undead of this force was in better gear than some of the creatures I had seen in Naxxramas.

The footmen stepped out of line as I neared them, forming a corridor to the Knights, further along, closing behind me and my own Guards the moment we had passed them by. It just reinforced the image that this wasn't a horde of rabid Undead chained by the will of a Necromancer, but an Army.

I felt a sense of something between 'awe' and 'despair' as I came upon the Knights and beheld them. They were a stark contrast to the Onslaught before I had raised them, dark armor embossed with skull and bone imagery, blue flames for eyes, and wielding a variety of weaponry that were all savage and barbaric just from looking at them. Their horses helped to inspire that sense I gained, hooves that were just glowing blue energy, baleful blue eyes unblinking beneath black armor…

If it weren't for the white cloak, with the stylized gold L embossed on them, that each Knight wore proudly, I would question if they belonged with the Army I had just walked from.

The 'Left Hand' stood in front of the mass of Knights alongside another of the armored horses, and with my arrival, he turned his head to me, nodded, and turned back to the Knights arrayed in formation. The moment I was close, he bellowed out with his echoing voice, and everything stilled. "Soldiers of the 1st Legion! Slaughter calls! The Taunka have been marked for death by our King! We shall be their executioners, in the Lich King's name!" There was a resounding thunder of metal slammed together, wood striking the frozen ground and horses calling in answer.

As I walked up to him, the 'Left Hand' mounted his horse in one swift motion, turning his head to look down at me as I held his gaze without wavering. "... Far better than Valanar." He nodded absently while I blinked at his words, wheeling his horse around to point out the gate before holding up his right hand and chopping downward. "We march for Taunka'le!" Ragged echoing roars and calls answered the man as he led the way at a trot, the rest of the army marched pace easily, my Onslaught and I in between the rank and file and the Knights.

I spent the entire trip on foot, the only horses were those that the Knights had, not that it honestly bothered me since we kept a slow pace for the 'Dwarves', who were also the ones carrying the majority of the extra supplies. What those supplies were, and more specifically why they were bringing them, I didn't know and wasn't about to ask. The Left Hand had a 'good' opinion of me at the moment and I was loath to ruin that before I could use it. For all my grumblings about politics, having someone so high up with a good opinion of you would mean, alongside Kel'Thuzad, I could be protected or mitigate a large amount of internal flak I could find myself catching.

Which meant I had to come up with an actually good plan for the mass slaughter of an entire village. Dammit.

I turned my gaze to the terrain we crossed, putting off such thought until I had no choice. The land around us was… strange. Long expanses of rolling hills marred by stone outcroppings, mixed together with snow-covered slopes. In the distance, I could see the beginning of a treeline, but aside from that singular area, the area was completely barren of cover.

Borean Tundra was an apt name for this place, and I was glad I overheard it during the meeting.

After hours of walking, and what a great thing it was to see the sun again, night fell and I could see specks of firelight in the distance as I crested the hill next to the 'Left Hand'. I assumed that was 'Taunka'le', based on how my minder gave a side-long glance at me, before returning to the campfires ahead of us. "I have no desire to stand back and lead Wraith. My sword thirsts after so long spent in pointless meetings."

… That was probably the closest I was getting of a 'You're in charge' from him, given his certain higher ranking compared to me.

With that said, now I needed to come up with a plan that was effective, and hopefully even a tiny bit impressive to the 'Left Hand'. If I was forced into killing sentient beings that had done nothing wrong to me, I may as well make sure their deaths were for a good cause in aiding me in the future.

Rushing in was obviously the easy and predictable plan, and regardless would be part of any other plan I made on the spot. Knights, or any heavily-armored, fast-moving troops, were perfect for ramming head-first into normal troops. Magic or no, momentum was momentum. Granted I didn't know if these 'Taunka' were 'normal' troops, but I was fairly sure that in this case, playing to the bloodthirst the 'Left Hand' was the best course, regardless of whatever laid ahead.

So with part settled, that left the rest of the army to figure out. Now that I was actually looking I could see the settlement in its entirety, and the Footmen's role came to mind easily. With the Knights charging through an entrance, and almost certainly rampaging through whatever defenders came at them, the Footmen would ensure nothing escaped by surrounding the village and blocking the entrances. It would also put their armor out of the majority of combat's way, letting them look as pristine as they could when we got back. Which, in itself, was another political victory.

How I was going to utilize the Archers, Mages and 'Dwarves' had me stumped though. Certainly, they were going to have supporting roles, the thought that they were going to be major forces for the whole battle was a laughable one. Well, for the Mages and Archers, I had no idea what the 'Dwarves' had to offer beyond some rifles and whatever was in their boxes.

The Archers could pick off the sentries during the beginning, ensuring free reign to maneuver the entire army into position, and from there provide support within the settlement. Mages on the other hand were either going to be the opening move that signaled the attack proper to start, or provide support within the settlement, just like the Archers. Which… left the Dwarves…

"What exactly are these... Dwarves? Capable of?"

My question was received with a creaking helmet turning in my direction before the echoing voice answered. "Rifles. Explosives. Mortars. The Dwarves of the 1st Legion were unmatched by all but Ironforge's Army." I could work with that. Sure, it was probably black powder at best, which even I knew was a bit underpowered compared to the more modern explosives from Earth Bet, but I could work with that. "I hope you are done. I am getting impatient."

I tapped my staff against the ground twice before turning to him, a smile painted across my face as I answered. "Of course. This was a simple enough thing to plan." I turned to look back at the innocent village, keeping the smile in place even as my 'heart' broke at what I was about to unleash on it. "Your Archers go around and assassinate the sentries while the Footmen surround the village. The Dwarves set up their mortars, and from there they and the Mages will signal the beginning of the slaughter. After which, you and your Knights will plow through whatever defense they have and send them into chaos, free to slaughter."

For a moment I received no response. Then a low, echoing chuckle sounded, and I heard the shifting of cloth and clinging of chains. I received no more words from him, he didn't need to convey his satisfaction with my plan. It took a long few minutes after I heard the shuffling of movement and clothing that I finally turned away from Taunka'le and headed back down to the waiting Army.

There would be no forgiveness for me tonight.

Twin pale moons illuminated the sky as I waited alongside the Knights and my Guard for the inevitable. It was a perfect night for such a thing, the world was quiet and peaceful, I heard the revelry from the village in the wind, or what I thought was revelry, it was hard to tell with the vaguely cow-like sounds reaching me. Were Taunka minotaurs or similar?

Well, I would find out soon I guess, just as so-

My thoughts were interrupted with the roar of cannon fire shattering the peaceful night, sending it into a chaotic hell as the flames erupted within the settlement. I could imagine the panic inside the walls, growing higher as a storm of ice and fire rained down at the Mages' call and another round of explosives were sent straight into the settlement. My focus shifted to the 'Left Hand' as his horse whinnied and reared back on its hooves.

"Soldiers of the Scourge! Death to the Living!"

A malevolent cheer rose from the Knights before they charged with reckless abandon into the burning village, leaving me and my Guards behind. For a while I stayed where I was, watching what I had caused before beginning the walk over to the village, my staff creaked under my grip.

I ignored the screaming, the crackling of flames, the sound of metal rending flesh, the laughter.

I kept my gaze up, unwilling to look down as I passed through the entrance straight into the hell I had wrought. Explosions echoed with hoofbeats in the distance, embers flew from the burning tents into my face, I watched fascinated as my ambient Death magic wilted the embers to nothing, as the raging fires grew low around me in my trek.

A roar caught my attention, filled with pain and hate, making me look to the side as the humanoid equivalent to a Bison rushed at me from a burning hut with a large log gripped in its hands. My arm rose, necrotic energy gathered where a hand should have been, and the chattering skull of a Death Coil slammed into the Taunka sending it stumbling, but alive, into a burning tent. Without another look, I continued on my way, step after step into Taunka'le.

Steel slicing through flesh was determinedly ignored alongside the dying gurgle. A fleeing female Taunka was gripped and pulled back to me as I thrust my staff forward, impaling the creature on the head. As much as it pained me to do so, I had to keep up appearances with my co-workers, and for that, I needed to end the Taunka of this village. Removing the bladed head from the Taunka, I watched as she fell to the ground with a thud, weakly trying to crawl away in her final dying moments.

The only thing I could do to help these Taunka was to end their lives quickly, a mercy the Knights seem to be enjoyably denying to the ones they cut down. Their cuts brutal enough to be fatal, but they held back enough to make the last moments agonizing. A Deathbolt formed at the struggling female, and without hesitation I shot her in the back, ending her suffering.

I looked back up and backed away with wide eyes as a battlecry reached me. A group of Taunka had come barreling down the path, roaring and shouting in their tongue as their weapons were brandished and ready to kill me. My Guards quickly formed up, readying their own swords, spears, and shields at the charging bovine creatures as I quickly channeled magic into a Deathbolt and sent it flying. The bolt slammed straight into one of the Taunka, sending it crumpling to the ground while the rest continued rushing at me.

None of my necromantic spells were meant for multiple targets rushing at me and any that I could snap off like Death Coil simply didn't have the power to stop a charging bull. True, there was the volley variation I had been developing with Gothik, but it was inefficient in usage, time to cast… and especially effectiveness. By the time I finished forming the spell and cast it, my guards and the Taunka would be in melee, and that - as amazing as my Partner is - still left me more liable to hit my own troops given the tight corridor we were in and the general chaos of melee. I could try to make a new spell, one that is more wave-like but… I shook my head and sent my Guard rushing forward with a hand wave to buy myself some time.

I backed up a few steps to put more distance between myself and the impending fight, as my guards braced themselves. The Taunka barreled down the path far faster than I expected, validating my assumptions, as they dove into the melee. With a solemn purpose, my Guards started their bloody task, blunting the Taunka's charge as they minced the front three with well-coordinated sword and spear work, before being forced to back up as the next wave nearly smashed them aside. Shields parried away massive totem-like logs, spears kept axes at bay, and the Taunka's own spears were parried with swords or dodged with effort. But it wouldn't last.

Which left me with attempting the 'Cosmic Magic' Partner had talked about back in Crystalsong. Without actually knowing how to use or call upon it. Easy.

What is Cosmic Magic? What is the Concept behind 'Cosmic'?It was a 'Branch' of Nature magic no doubt...

The Stars, the Moon, the Sun. All part of the natural world, keystones of it even, but… Cosmic magic was centered on Celestial bodies. They were a higher power, worshiped for the light, heat, and solace they gave.

One of my Guards was sent like a ragdoll past me, scraping against the path for a few seconds before rushing straight past me none the worse for the trip. The other five were in no better position, battered but continuing to hold against the rampaging, justified, Taunka trying to crush me. My Death magic likely had been slowly infusing into them during our long, close proximity trip giving them increased durability. But yes, the Taunka were justified, however, I wasn't just going to lay down and let them kill me, I wanted to live after all. I could stop the Scourge, it was entirely possible I was the only one powerful enough to do so.

If myth and legend were true to form in this world, then Cosmic magic was likely capable of healing others, as many stories linked the Moon and Sun to healing wounds and purifying corruption. Which, also, would likely make it highly effective versus the Scourge and other unnatural Undead.

Molten earth came flying through the mass of bodies, narrowly avoiding my Guards before splashing into the dirt at my feet, hissing and crackling alongside the burning tents. I looked through the mass of Taunka, curious at the display that I had just seen and wondering exactly what had caused it. After a few moments of chaotic shifting and clamor, I found the culprit, a female Taunka clad in robes at the back of the creatures, flames, and rock collecting in her hands and melting.

But the Sun and Moon were also cruel, the Void uncaring. For while it was belief through prayer that shaped the Sun and Moon into objects of healing and safety, it was fact that defined them as objects of heat and energy. While the Moon's energy was a mere reflection of the Sun's, the Ghost Hunters, and the faithful Kaldorei, showed me that belief could amplify even those rays into a beam of power.

Light shone where my lost hand would have been.

It was best to start low and simple and work my way up, on a night such as this even the weakest of attacks would still be a light show, and it was best to be underestimated in their display. As my deviation from Necromantic magic would no doubt be noted and reported on. But it had to be done. For the sake of my plan. For the sake of the world.

I swung my right arm down.

A resounding crash echoing in the wake of my spell, a pillar of light similar to the one Kaldorei made days ago slamming into the group of Taunka trying to kill me and my Guards. The blinding light subsided after a while, leaving a ringing in my ears and allowing me to actually look ove-

My eyes widened the moment I saw the hole in the earth stopping just shy of my Guards. No bodies, no earth, no tents, just a giant, gaping hole leading into the depths of the earth.

… I was going to have to be careful with how much power I threw into Cosmic spells if this was the result of throwing a decent amount of energy into them. Accidentally drilling into the earth, as well as denying me resources of corpses I could raise during or after a battle in the process, was not something I was keen to do, as much as I could see the benefits of some applications of that.

I tapped my staff twice and turned on my heel, clattering of metal sounding in my wake as I turned back the route I came in search of another route to the center. I had things to do, people to kill mercifully, and a magic I needed to figure out before I accidentally nuked my allies, both wanted and unwanted, by mistake.

A sigh left me as I moved through the burning ruins of Taunka'le, this night would be a long one.

Two more groups attacked me, two more failed tries at getting my Cosmic magic dialed in to where it needed to be. It was so easy to just… go overboard on it. Which I suppose shouldn't come as a shock. Being that I'm trying to channel the magical conceptualization of an existence that utterly dwarfs the planet I'm on, let alone the small group of people I'm aiming it at.

The first try, I managed to not make a hole to the center of the earth… but there was still the lack of any corpses, and the white-purple fire consuming every bit of vegetation that had existed. I wasn't too concerned with the latter, considering they didn't burn or radiate heat, but I erred on the side of caution without further tests on that specific aspect. I didn't want a Greek Fire incident while I was in the middle of 'enemy' territory surrounded by 'ally' forces. I was worried that the 'flames' were of the anti-undead variety. Because, well, magic and I haven't the slightest idea what I'm doing. Assuming that the result is the worst-case scenario served me well in the past.

Sorta.

Second try… the screaming was unsettling as bull-men tried to put themselves out with that same fire engulfing them. There was too little power on that test, and thus a total failure added on compared to the other technical failures, after all, it was one thing to fail, but still managing to kill the target in the process, and another to completely fail to kill the target and instead send them into an utterly agonized freakout. Granted, I could see the value in it as a scare tactic, the regular grunts on the ground typically were more cowed to seeing horrible ways to die. It also, sadly, probably gained me reputation with the Knights, as I saw one or two nod approvingly at the result.

With that said… Was I really running around camp testing out new magic on innocents?

It was one thing to do it to the Onslaught before I raised them, they were fanatics - and still are… - , and would murder me on the spot for existing. But the Taunka hadn't done anything to me to warrant me using them as lab rats. Yes, I had to complete this mission to advance my plans of taking the Scourge down from within. Yes, they were trying to kill me every time I ran into them.

That is all well and good, but it still didn't really justify using them as test subjects. Calling it mercy only does so much, I could have easily just fallen back on my Deathbolts, or sort out some new spells with Death magic that could hit multiple targets. Why did I need to use Cosmic magic? I suppose it was an itch I had to scratch, there was just something making me want to use it… A reflex, not an urge, like when the doctor taps your kneecap and your leg just moves on its own.

"I would do better next time."

Hollow words, even after everything I had been through I thought them with a certain naivete But how could I do better when I wasn't allowed to when trying to be better ended with my own death?

"Haven't I sacrificed enough?"

So many dead, so many corpses burying my path of good intentions. First on Earth Bet, now here. I was powerful… but power alone just didn't fix the issues.

Every little thing I wanted to do better, was snatched away from me before I could even try. How was I supposed to be the 'Hero' if all I could ever be was the Villain… just like last time. Forced to make hard choice after hard choice, all for one nebulous goal after another.

A sound, faint and barely heard over the crackling fires snapped me from my ruminations, sending me over to one of the few tents not burning at the moment. Approaching the tent, I ignored the dread welling in my soul and opened the flap.

Immediately I was struck with fearful noises from the back, my eyes honing in as my heart sank. Seven small Taunka, smaller than myself and obviously all children, huddled together in the dark of the tent, cowering as I slipped into their refuge. I hunched over, leaning on the staff, and the children shrank further into their corner, sans one that came up to my chest, brandishing a spear in its shaking hands.

… Why?

I tightened my grip on my staff as I stared down at the children, ignoring everything else as my thoughts ran full sprint.

Why did I have to kill more children? Did the world just want to make me suffer more? Didn't I suffer and sacrifice enough from getting my power and all the way to killing Scion?

Apparently not.

There was an audible creak from my staff and a renewed fearful noise from the children as I debated with myself. I didn't want to kill them, there was no reason forcing me to kill like with Aster, this wasn't a case of 'kill the kid save the world' that I had thought it had been. This... Could I really excuse this as mercy? It wouldn't matter how I did it, it was something I was secretly hoping I wouldn't have to do. Dammit.

The village was surrounded by Undead that were elite forces, there were constant explosions, arrows, and undead destroying the village piece by piece and slaughtering anyone who came in sight. I had seen what had happened to people who died to the undead, back in the Onslaught Harbor while I was still… influenced, and that was not a fate I wished upon anyone... except Jack Slash.

Regardless, the children didn't deserve the fate that awaited them when any member of the 1st Legion found them if I left them alive. Found them due to a plan I told them to execute.

I wanted to be a Hero this time!

My non-existent arm glowed.

Stars gathered.

This was mercy considering the alternative, but it was my fault they were going to die either way.

… I wanted to be a Hero…

"…the children, just shoot. Doesn't matter your aim, just shoot. You see one lying on the ground? Shoot the little bitch twice more to be sure. We give them no chances to be clever or lucky, understand?"

My arm fell, and the Stars fell with it.

… I wanted to be like Hero…

It was a perfect Lunar Strike, the children dying quickly enough that they didn't feel a thing…

The only things left of them were skeletons wreathed in white-purple flames, their skulls staring at me, judging me for my sins.

… Why couldn't I be a Hero once?

I slumped to the ground and wished I could let out anything to express what I felt. But I couldn't.

Thanks for the Moral Compass, Partner.

greysongarr · Apr 30, 2021

Sneaky AN: time for part 2 of the Borean Tundra! I can guarantee none of you will see this shit coming. Also the chapter would have been out far sooner if I hadn't dragged my dum fuking ass around
Grey AN: The fallout from this chapter and the next will impact the timeline something fierce. The Bronze don't like that… Me and Sneaky'll have to worry about them at some point trying to kill us at this rate.

The sun crested over the husk of what once was a thriving village.

Ash, bones, and corpses littered the ground in every direction, the 'walls' torn down or burnt down to charcoal in the aftermath of the attack. In the middle of this, in what was once the 'town center', the 1st Legion had made its camp. Undead sat around cleaning their equipment from the battle, looking over 'wounds' they had gotten and, in the case of the Knights, engaging in conversation with one another, boasting, or laughing over something. In a way, it reminded me of the aftermath of the Endbringers, sans the cheer of the Knights.

I did not join them, instead, I sat on a log far away from the Knights and the rest of the Legion, surrounded by my Guards and staring down at a skull I held in my hand. The test had gone somewhat... correctly, and I'd dialed in what level was necessary to power a killing Lunar Strike, efficiency and on the fly effectiveness would come with time and, unfortunately, practice. But…

The skull I held wasn't very big for a Taunka. I only hoped that they had died instantly and painlessly.

Heavy clunks and clangs didn't take my attention from the skull, nor did the words the 'Left Hand' sway me from looking away. "I am impressed, Wraith. Not a single casualty, despite being outnumbered over two to one. A far cry from your 'plan' for the war. It could make one think." If I was still alive maybe this would be a moment when my heart stops, and my breath hitches. But I wasn't so I said nothing as steel dug itself into the ground with a rasping grate, still not looking at him. "We will pack up shortly and retu-"

Hectic hoofbeats cut off the 'Left Hand', in turn causing me to look up and lower the skull. A lesser Knight wheeled its horse in front of us, the rider's voice carrying through the air as all other noise ceased in its wake. "Alliance ships sighted on the horizon to the south! Forty sighted, Captain! Forty-three Horde transports from the west, too!" The 'Left Hand' physically recoiled at the report, as if he wasn't expecting the report or something in it.

"Far too many… How?" I barely heard the muttered words before the Knight Captain pulled his sword from the earth and bellowed to the entire camp without a beat missed. "Knights of Icecrown! I want Gates to En'Kilah now!" The Knights hastened to do the order, breaking off and gathering actual Death magic in their hands before sending it forth, creating a 'Door' made of shadow. "1st Legion through the Gates!"

After going over my own memories of my time on Naxxramas, I had come to a realization. Not only was there an ever so slight difference between Necrotic magic and Death magic, but the Necromancers, true to their title, next to never used death magic. They had come close with their spells oriented around Decay but even then… and now I find a group of Death Knights, people who I doubt would ever cast a single classic fantasy spell, performing an actual portal spell.

Regardless, at his order, each skeleton loaded up everything they had and rushed into the 'Gates', disappearing into them just like the Doors Doormaker had made. Given what I had just heard, I expected them to work almost exactly like his own power, with maybe one or two flavored differences. If I learned how to do it, and learned its limits… I could travel to any of my three bases in an instant. My reach would extend far beyond, and well… I had proven I had quite the grasp last time I had such an opportunity.

That was going to be my absolute next project the moment I had a chance, and I would make one if I had to as that alone would allow me so much more time to do other things.

Focusing back on the skull in my hand, I let Death Magic pool into it, and let it consume the skull. As much as I currently regret what I did, carrying around a skull in my off-hand might send the wrong message. I didn't want the heroes determining me to be an existential threat to the world before I got my side of the story in.

Besides, I only have one real hand at the moment. Speaking of… I grabbed my staff from where it rested against my shoulder and used the leverage it provided to lift myself to my feet, just in time for the 'Left Hand' to face me once more and issue an order. "Raise the slain. We will need them for the coming War."

As much as I wanted to not do as he said, to simply let this site of misery turn into ashes in the wind, whatever had spooked him clearly meant bad news. And unless I had a position to negotiate from I doubt the Living would spare me even a glance before cutting me down.

My staff was raised as the 'Left Hand' stopped talking, and with necrotic magic coursing along its length I slammed it back into the earth, hoping that for once I didn't make intelligent undead. With a boom, accompanied by a visible wave of purplish smoke gushing from me, and guided by my will the energy coursed across the charnel grounds and spread through the ruins, seeking the corpses of innocents and burying into the flesh and bones. Shortly after, the bodies and skeletons rose to their feet, knitting themselves back together piece by piece until they were whole again, weapons at the ready for whatever was to come.

There was a moment of silence before a click made me look back at the 'Left Hand'. "How? What…" He shook his head, "Tch. Too many." He turned to gaze at me, eyes boring into mine. "You are not a fan of subtlety, are you? At least I know that boasting of yours about 'simply resurrecting' our army was based in fact…" That… explained a lot. Now that I thought about it, Gothik had said that most necromancers tended to raise only a limited amount of undead until they reached lich status, and even then…

"Send them Southwest, I will not waste my Knights' time holding Gates for so much fodder." Understandable, honestly, so with a quick glance at the rising overhead sun and a gesture the shambling horde were off southwest. Or at the least, what I could assume was southwest if old Earth outdoor tips held true.

The 'Left Hand' gathered energy into his hands as he took a stance, shadowy black with green and purple hints obscuring them before he seemingly cast a spell as a Gate appeared in front of him. He looked at me and with an internal sigh, I walked up to the shadowy piece of magic, topped with a rather demonic skull glowing with ice-like mist.

Without another thought, I strode through, my Guards following right after me.

The trip was… difficult to describe, in a different way compared to when I went up to and down from the necropolis. It felt… cold, in a way that chilled me to my soul, and something tugged at me for the briefest moment.

And then I was stepping out into the halls of a Necropolis, my Guards and the 'Left Hand' stepping out right behind me. It was almost exactly like Doormaker's power… except for the brief soul-chilling presence and slight walk through. I needed to learn how to do it, and any limitations it had, teleporting vast distances with a few steps was worth any challenge in learning it.

I let the 'Left Hand' lead, falling in step behind him to what I assumed was going to be the war room, given the information we had to deliver, and the changes that almost certainly needed to be done to the plan overall. We passed by Lesser Undead and Vampires alike through the corridors, before eventually, I heard voices carrying into the halls, leading me to believe we were almost back to the 'Wannabe-Kaiser' and his band of yes-men. Wonderful.

With the air of a general returning, the 'Left Hand' strode into the war room heading straight for the main table as the attention of every other person landed on us. Including the resident asshole. "Welcome back Lady Wraith, Captain. We wer-"

"Your information on the invasion is wrong."

The easy-going air around the Prince vanished in an instant, replaced with quiet seriousness and annoyance as he stood straight and locked eyes with the Knight. "I beg your pardon Captain. But my information is the latest from the Cult working in the shipyards and training grounds. The Alliance fleet arriving from Theramore, and Stormwind, only numbers twenty ships, and the Horde are managing only fif-"

The 'Left Hand' slammed a fist on the table, making all but myself and the other Knight, who for all I knew hadn't moved since my last time here, jump from the sudden aggression. "One of my Knights spotted the fleets as they were approaching. Eighty-three ships between the two factions are sailing in as we speak." Muttering broke out between the individuals bearing witness to the 'discussion', I could understand why if I was comprehending what was being said.

The initial plan that they'd been working with had only expected half or less of what was approaching currently, and if they were anything like the Onslaught… that was an issue. There was roughly double the amount of living coming, and whatever else they brought with them, and that meant a massive restructuring of plans needed to happen. The Lesser Undead were not like their Living counterparts, as while far easier to raise, arm, armor, and organize… they had next to no adaptability or independent action. Cells of necromancers led by a Lich would give the move reactionary control over them but often it would just be a single necromancer or Lich in charge.

I shook my head, recalling my rapid tutoring in the War Quarter on Naxxramas. It was horribly inefficient and left their military extremely vulnerable to surgical strikes. A band of, say, five or so would be able to rush in, kill the leaders, and escape long before any actual retaliation could be re-organized. It just meant another thing was added to my list. I needed to run the Onslaught in reactionary drills for what they are expected to do during times of lacking leadership.

And when my focus finally returned to the 'discussion' I found the Prince in the middle of a cold rage, arrogance at the full-front in the process. "-nmable fools can't do a damn thing right! I'll flay their souls the moment I see them and drink of their dying corpses!" … Well then. A moment after his outburst Valanar calmed himself somewhat, a hand covering his face as he growled out a demand. "How do you propose I fix this, Captain?"

The Knight shrugged, mostly annoyed with the question from what I could tell of his tone. "Why bother asking? It is past the time for complicated plans and subterfuge. You do as Wraith suggested and meet them at the Beaches. Their numbers mean little when they can't bring them all to bear." I looked over at him, barely keeping myself from showing any response beyond that at the thought that my plan was the solution to all the problems happening.

It was clear to me that this was my unspoken punishment. The 'Left Hand' caught me doing… something, whether he assumed it was treason or undermining politics who knows, but the message was clear. Make this plan work, or die trying.

Before anything could occur between the two, and by the narrowing of Valanar's eyes and creaking of wood under his other hand it would have been a… shitty time, a different vampire elf ran into the room. Immediately on spotting the 'Left Hand', the Vampire dropped to her knees and uttered out. "My Lord. You have orders to reinforce Angrathar with the 1st Legion."

There was silence as metal creaked to look down at the woman. "And why, am I needed when Kel'Thuzad is already there?" I had to wonder about the importance of 'Angrathar', if it was so highly important that both my boss and another high-ranking member were both called in to defend it. Was it someplace of religious importance, a point that held too much strategic value to let it fall into other hands?

I didn't know, and until I saw it in person, or heard more from someone else, I would just keep on guessing, so I put the thought to the side. More important things took precedent, and there were so many other things I needed to do before that.

My musings almost made me miss the reply, and I focused back on the subject at hand, not wanting to lose track of the conversation and be lost with important matters. "Naxxramas was assaulted by void-corrupted dragons a few days ago during a ritual of some kind. Lich Lord Kel'Thuzad went after the dragons and found nearly every last of our scouting forces slaughtered.."

Attacked during a ritual? A few days ago? Well then, I mused, it seems I found the source of my leash slackening, and why Kel'Thuzad has been too busy to rectify it. It did however put me at ease to know that it wasn't some sort of convoluted test or trial to try and provoke me to dig my own grave. All that being said, and what it meant for me, 'void-corruption' sounded nasty and clearly it was powerful enough to affect dragons, something to watch for I suppose.

The messenger then continued, "He is preparing to besiege Wyrmrest Temple as we speak. At the moment there is only one Aspect residing there. Outriders saw Horde and Alliance ships landing on opposing sides of the region, and he sent a message for you and your fellow Captain to garrison Angrathar in his stead."

"How… How do the living have so many troops?" I finally started to hear something other than aggravation, amusement, or rage in his voice. It doesn't sound like the invasion was just poorly under-rated. It sounded like the invasion was on a scale that should have been foreseen, yet somehow wasn't. Again, I heard him mutter, only because of my close proximity to him. "How is this possible? They couldn't have had the time for all of this…." He then loudly replied to the messenger, "Tell Kel'Thuzad I will head out shortly, I have a few things to finish here first." The Vampire quickly rose to her feet and bolted out of the room, leaving us as the 'Left Hand' turned his attention to the other Knight at the table. "Tzo'zi!" The Knight turned to the 'Left Hand', a drawling voice echoing from under the black metal armor in response.

"Aye, Boss-mon?"

I blinked at the choice of words, before turning back to the conversation, I could wonder about the word choice later with the rest of the issues. "Accompany Wraith for the remainder of this campaign." … Damn it, again with the oversight. "I expect you and your brethren to enjoy working with her."

Tzo'zi shrugged, pushing himself away from the table and standing up… He was about as tall as Lung, but far more lanky and thin… and that was hunched over! What was it with very big creatures here? Beyond the first zombie magi I made, I had seen nothing but human-sized and bigger humanoid creatures. Shaking the thought out of my head, I saw the Knight lift a battleaxe onto his shoulder before coming around the table.

He looked down at me when he planted himself in front of me, and I stared straight back without wavering, a short, echoing chuckle left the helm before he turned to the 'Left Hand' "Tzo'zi think we be gettin along real nice, Wraith. Tzo'zi be getting da bruddas and sistas ready, and then we be goin when ya get down here." I inclined my head for my reply, too busy trying to work out what I had just heard, and getting another chuckle as he passed me by.

… Was that a Jamaican Accent, or did my trip through the Gate mess with something important in my head?

Valanar sputtered, genuinely sputtered at this rapid turn of events. Death Knights were a powerful Greater Undead and losing all of his remaining ones must sting his pride fiercely. Especially because it was me they were being reassigned to. "Captain. I fail to see how giving Wraith the knights granted to me for this campaign will help our cause." He tried reasoning with the 'Left Hand' but either he was oblivious or stupid, as the 'Left Hand' disliked him as much as Valanar disliked me, if not more.

So it came as no surprise, for everyone except Valanar I suppose, when he was immediately rejected. "I fail to see how letting you keep them helps. Your incompetence is only exacerbated by your baseless antagonism. You have failed my King for the last time Valanar, succeed here or die trying." His part said he turned his baleful gaze unto me. "Suffer well, Wraith. May we meet again."

Given the way he said it, I had the suspicion that 'suffer well' was the same thing as 'good luck' to him, and probably the Knights as well, if not more of the Scourge. With that in mind… "Suffer well, Captain."

He gave me a nod before walking away,

I looked over to Valanar to find him rooted in place, seemingly frozen in surprise. Until he caught me looking, that is, then he snapped back into motion and began speaking in some flowery language to the rest of the vampires. All the while he was storming over to me, his gaze never leaving mine.

"Lady Wraith. Do you derive enjoyment over ruining other's plans? If you hadn't been here-" He cut his snarl off, jerking himself back to the war table, now having been updated by aides in the background as the new information filtered in. "Very well, it looks like I am left no choice. Rally all the forces, we shall graciously use the plan Lady Wraith has provided us and rush the Horde filth before they can cobble together their feeble emplacements."

Wait… all the troops? But that would- The shock was clearly on my face as Valanar laughed. Directing what he no doubt thought was a'nasty' sneer towards me he said, "Yes, I mean all. You shall handle the invading Alliance. Between such skilled and lauded individuals like yourself and my Death Knights, I doubt you will find any trouble. If you do well… I'm sure I could rescue you after I'm finished with the Horde rabble."

That- that utter bastard! He was trying to get me killed and wasn't even trying to be subtle about it anymore. And this was the person in charge of the invasion defense? I'm starting to think that he was actually going to let the Living gain foothold on this land if only to make a show of defeating them. I let my fury show on my face, causing Valanar to flinch. "I see. Thank you for your gracious compliments and assurances, Prince Valanar. I best go prepare then."

I turned around, parting the brackish purple fog of Death Magic that had nimbused around me, and marched to the door. My fury was palpable, one of the first true emotions I had felt since my time as an Undead.

I paused at the doorway, my mind made up. "Oh and Valanar? Pray that this 'Horde' kills you. We will be settling our… differences after this."

With my part said, I too strode out of the room.

I met up with Tzo'zi shortly after leaving the Necropolis, and immediately realized something I had overlooked due to focusing on the conversation.

Tzo'zi was obviously not a human. It was one of those things that in hindsight seemed really obvious.

His hands had two long fingers and a thumb, his feet had only two toes, and he was abnormally tall for such a lanky individual. He was hunched over constantly, and he was still taller than me! I'd put him at roughly eight or nine feet tall if I had to guess standing straight up. Which brought up another thing.

I almost thought his helmet had four tusk-like protrusions emerging from it… but then I noticed that the inner two were more ivory-colored than the black metal of the outer. Which, with everything else, made me certain he wasn't human… the problem was I didn't know what he was, especially since my 'conversation' with Kaldorei about races… was cryptic beyond. I'd have to remedy that along with everything else on my plate when I finally had a chance to just relax and recuperate.

Regardless of ponderings, we beat quick feet and met up with Tzo'zi and his band of Knights at the entrance to En'Kilah. They were not the grand sight the 1st Legion had invoked, and I doubted I would see many such sights in the coming days. But, there were still twenty-five Death-infused Knights arrayed on their undead steeds waiting for me to arrive, looking every bit identical to Tzo'zi in armor. Meaning, they nevertheless cast an intimidating sight, but less one of deadly efficiency and effectiveness and more of bloodlust and brutality. I could almost take lessons from it.

Most of them looked like Tzo'zi, if smaller; slouched and lanky, mauls and battleaxes draped around their necks lazily as they waited, while even smaller, straight-backed individuals casually sharpened their axes and swords on the saddle. If I hadn't seen Henrich, in full plate, get thrown around by a single punch I would have been shocked at how casually they carried their weapons. With that said though, they looked just as dangerous as the Knights belonging to the 'Left Hand'; covered in black plate from head to toe, with only icy eyes glowing from beneath their helmet visors.

Striding straight up to them, I was met with a chuckle from Tzo'zi as he looked down from even higher. "Tzo'zi don't wanna spend anotha moment in dis place Wraith. Hop on ol' Jeh'zur and we'll getta move on to ya troops." I looked at him for a moment, debating whether or not I should tell him now that he and his band were my toops. I had a hunch that it might test whatever control was keeping him in line. My hesitation was, however, misinterpreted by Tzo'zi. "Don't worry. He won't bite 'less Tzo'zi tell him ta. Ya guards can ride with me bruddas and sistas."

I nodded, figuring it was best to leave before I told him, and without hesitation, I sent my Guards to clamber onto whatever horse would let them as I walked up to Tzo'zi, whose offered lanky arm lifted and maneuvered me into a position where I could easily seat myself behind him. . He waited for a moment while my Guards found their own person to ride with before he bellowed out a rasping laugh, his steed rearing up as he shouted in glee "Corrupted Blood! Ta Slaughter!" Horses whinged alongside bloodthirsty and raucous cheers, and without delay, we were racing across the snow at a full gallop.

The wind whipped past us with the speed we were going. While I had no idea how fast we were traveling compared to normal - it certainly was not as fast as some of the Movers that I had seen or even some of the Brutes - but it was faster than I thought we would go on horses, I suppose being Undead has its perks.

Unfortunately, the wind wasn't loud enough to prevent me from hearing Tzo'zi, which meant when he asked "Ey mon, where be da rest o' ya troops?" I couldn't pretend I didn't hear him. Right, now to break it to the murder-happy ball of hate and metal I'm current in close proximity to that he has been labeled 'expendable'.

[Confidence]

Thanks, Partner. I sent my own feelings back. If it wasn't one thing it was another, just another hallmark of my life. "Unfortunately, Tzo'zi, you are looking at them. Prince Valanar has decided to wield the entire army, barring your own men, against the Horde's invasion. My men and your Corrupted Blood are it for the Alliance."

In all honesty, his response was remarkably restrained from what I had expected. Namely, he only let out an echoing, guttural growl instead of throwing me off or turning around. "Dat coward be really grindin' Tzo'zi's patience. He tinks just cuz he's in charge he can do whateva he wants? Tzo'zi be tinkin' dat 'is scalp would be a fine addition to Tzo'zi's collection." He tilted his head back to glance at me, "If you wanna o' course, Falric say you be de boss lady, so you de boss lady."

Well, at least I knew the Left Hand's name now. Still, I shook my head. "No, Tzo'zi, I have… more than he realizes at my disposal. But, after we finish here…" I drifted off purposely, Tzo'zi's eye's flared a bit, giving me an indication he understood where I was going with it. "Perhaps a visit afterward, to explain our displeasure, would be prudent."

Tzo'zi chuckled and turned his focus back to the horizon. "Big talk, but Tzo'zi knew he be likin' ya for a reason, mon."

It wasn't something I wanted to dwell on. Now that the consuming rage I had felt was gone, I somewhat regretted saying that to Valanar. Only somewhat. I thought. He did try to get us all killed for petty reasons that I had no involvement in. On one hand, swearing bloody vengeance against the defacto 'General' of the Borean Tundra campaign wasn't the brightest of ideas, especially one so politically connected with nearly the rest of the upper management. However… The Heavy Troops, read: Death Knights, were on my side and he had the dismissal and disapproval of people ranked even higher than him. In fact, it presented an opportunity to me. If I could make it back before he does, and gain access to sensitive documents, I could almost bet he wrote down somewhere about - what I assumed - his plan to let the invading forces land to earn him greater glory.

The only thing better than taking down an organization from within, was the organization actively approving of and unintentionally assisting you in it.

But that brought me to the main issue for now, which was this 'Alliance' invasion. I could make some assumptions about their force makeup. Powerful Elf casters, numerous Human soldiers, Dwarf technological advancements, all mixed together into something likely far more lethal than what the 1st Legion once was. Due to the High-Fantasy stereotyping this world seemed to follow, I had no doubt all their leaders would be capable of superspecies feats of both magic and might.

It was, unfortunately, something I knew I couldn't plan around. No amount of general knowledge of the world would save me here, as trying to figure out what each person could do would be like trying to guess a cape's powers by what gang they were in. And I didn't have prophetic powers… yet. Another thing to watch for I suppose, there had to be at least one Oracle of Delphi in this world.

Despite the rough and speedy pace the situation demanded of us, it was calming nonetheless. Watching the unique terrain, notable only for its novelty, pass by let me organize my thoughts. Obviously, I wasn't going to do as my orders said and kill the invading force. See, they weren't an invading force anymore if they stopped invading.

My troops were nowhere near powerful enough, or specialized enough, to contend against twice their number. And trying to shore that up with my own magical might… My mind flashed back to when I had nearly died during the Harbor assault. The feeling of my strength leaving me, too weak to move as the magic powering my body was no longer present. No, I wouldn't be that weak again. I needed to find a way to carry those blue potions around with me as I had a feeling larger scale-combat was going to fill my future.

I couldn't win by numbers.

I couldn't win with raw power, for now.

Which means I had to win on a psychological level. I had to break the spirit of the Alliance if I was going to save them.

It was fortunate then, that making an entrance was something I was an old hand at.

[Alliance Landing Zone]

It was controlled chaos as I disembarked from the rowboat, men and women dashed from landing craft to one of the numerous box piles to unload the supplies as fast as they could. It was a race against time before he sent his minions to face them, setting up a base camp with fortifications needed to happen before night fell, otherwise they would be overrun so fast it'd make the goblins jealous at the speed. Thankfully with the fleet providing aid, we would hopefully be able to start building defenses that would eventually turn into 'Valiance Keep' before the Scourge could attack us.

We just had to hurry, and hope the Light was with us, or else the Borean campaign was lost before it could even begin.

As I moved through the camp the troops kept at their tasks, the few sentries in place to keep watch nodding to me before they turned back to their watch. I gave them a nod in return before leaving them to their duty. I then moved to check on the supplies that managed to survive that Bronze Dragon's inspections. That was a surprise to see, a welcome one, as it allowed us to find out about the Cultists in our midst and the plagued supplies they tried bringing with them. It turned into a bloody day, but it ended with minimal casualties, and what few we had were given proper send-offs in Kul Tiran fashion.

I didn't know what the Bronze Dragon's machinations were, but it left shortly after it was done inspecting without a word. A pity, such power would have been a welcome reinforcement, but what could I have done to make it stay? It was a Dragon, and even if I had questions, it wasn't like the Bronze was prone to telling 'mortals' what the hell they were doing. I suppose we were lucky the Dragon didn't just blast the ship apart. It made me feel used, but I'd take used but alive over dead any day.

One of my men shouted, my head turning from the crate of ammunition to see a sentry pointing up at the cliff. I squinted my eyes and scowled at the sun getting in the way. "Someone get me a spyglass!" The order was received, and within moments I had the device in my hands and up to my eye looking at what the sentry had spotted.

It was… a robed figure, a Cultist? Long, white hair blowing in the wind as burning purple eyes like a corrupted flame gazed down upon them. Not a mere cultist. I repressed the urge to shiver at the sight of those cold, lifeless eyes, feeling them search my soul before moving on. I had battled the Scourge throughout the Plaguelands, from Andorhal to Light's Hope and into the burning streets of Stratholme, and not a single creature beyond the black soul of Kel'thuzad and Him managed to garner the reaction I tried to hide.

It was one of His minions, there couldn't be anything else it was with its aura and it being here. Which meant I needed to act fast and get rid of it. "Arnold!" The man who saw her snapped a salute, ready for the orders I had for him. "Round up a Paladin, Priest, and a few mages, and take care of our visitor, but if something seems wrong, get the hell out."

I was given a "Yes, sir" before I tuned out the shouting from Arnold as he gathered some men and women to accompany him, pulling the spyglass back to my eye. It… I was pretty sure it was a woman, it didn't have a womanly figure, but I hadn't seen any man with hair that long, even for elves. So with the newly dubbed 'her', I focused on trying to figure out as much as possible in the limited ability I had.

Staff in her hand, obviously a spellcaster of some sort, and likely a necromancer out of the options, maybe a warlock… Missing a hand, meant it was likely a living individual and not an undead, as if undead spellcasters would settle for not being 'perfect' and whole. It was strange to see a caster doing scouting duty… which immediately put me on edge. Something wasn't right about this…

"Thassarian!" The former Scourge looked up from the box he was propped against, the man may not have been as helpful in the unloading department, but he sure as damn well was going to be useful for this. "Start preparing a defensive line, I don-"

The rest of my words were drowned out in the deafening series of roars echoing from the cliff, and I watched in horror as a horde of undead streamed off the cliff, falling multiple stories to crash into the ground. Right in front of Arnold's group. I gave a prayer to the Light as I witnessed the horde of Tauren corpses rise up no worse for wear and smash Arnold aside before they washed over them like a wave, charging straight for the landing zone.

"SCOURGE! GET TO THE FRONT!"

My sword, a gift from the church that had lasted me for thirty years since I became a fully-fledged Paladin of the Light, rang out from its sheath as soldiers rushed past me to get a line ready. Riflemen from Ironforge climbed up the piles of boxes to get shots ready, while Mages and the one Warlock brought along, scrambled to get further back into a secure position of their own. We weren't in the best position, if we had more defenses to funnel them to, where their numbers meant less, we'd be in a much better state. We had thought the cliff would provide a natural defense.

We were wrong.

I had a gut feeling that made me look up, in time to see the streaks of shadow falling from the sky. "TAKE COVER!" My shout was desperate, I didn't know what munitions the Scourge might use but it could be anything from plagued arrows, corpses, to just a big-ass rock. I dodged out of the way with a roll, narrowly avoiding the projectile screaming in at me… others were not as fortunate, impaled by blackened spears that punctured their armor like it was paper. I let out a curse and barked a quick "Hold the Line!" I took my own advice and braced myself as the Scourge sprinted at us. With a prayer to the Light, I gave a greater blessing of empowerment to those around me. While it wasn't much, against the tides of Dead every little bit counts.

Cracks echoed sharply through the air behind me, and I was relieved to see the marksmanship of the Dwarves take down a good number of the Undead rushing us, as fireballs careening overhead scorched the first rank of the dead, giving most of the footmen enough time to form up. Those who were too slow, too far or any other reason were trampled underneath dead hooves as the horde barely even noticed the stragglers, still frothing in their single-minded charge.

A brief whistling echoed through the air before explosions raked through the Undead horde, gouts of blood, chunks of gore, and splinters of bone filled the air from the impact. In typical Scourge fashion they were barely staggered by the barrage, their charge unfaltering. Another round of fire came from the spellcasters and Rifleman, sending even more of the corpses falling to the ground in pieces, but still, they came, their numbers were not thinned enough and in the face of such an onslaught, even the most devout soldier was capable of fear. "Remember your families! Your Sons and Daughters! Your Brothers and Sisters!"

The men and women around me let righteousness coat them in its vengeful radiance at my words, staring at the tide of death with the resolve to carry things through, to the end if necessary. "If we fail here, the Scourge will not stop! They will butcher our people and turn them into mindless weapons!" Another series of cannon shots in the distance sounded, an air of satisfaction settling around me as the prospect of an easy battle showed itself. We would take losses, it was inevitable, but so long as this was all we had to deal with, the campaign would continue unhindered.

Such joy was short-lived.

A wall of dark purple ethereal mist rose in front of the horde of Undead, forcing us all to watch as cannonballs and missile fire rammed straight into it and disintegrated. The shock to morale couldn't be let to settle, instantly I took charge of the situation, and while I couldn't ensure the cannon fire would cease, I could get the men and women on the ground to stop and not waste valuable ammunition and mana. "Hold Fire!" For a good few seconds, the wall stood there menacingly before bursting outward like smoke revealing the dead Tauren again, howling for blood and death, as that same purple smoke billowed from their eyes and mouths.

They were too close, there wasn't time for another organized volley, so I challenged the coming tide of death with defiance. "FOR THE ALLIANCE!" The answering calls from my troops didn't drown out the cries for blood from the Scourge, but it steeled the hearts and minds of them all, and that was all it needed to accomplish.

I had never fought against Tauren, granted, six years ago I had not even known they existed, and it was only three years ago that I'd had the pleasure of working with Archdruid Runetotem in the Sithilus campaign, and actually seen one in person. I had seen a few of them in action, a few hundred had fought against the hordes of Qiraji spilling into the accursed desert, and while this was an entirely different thing, some traits stayed the same.

Such as being living battering rams.

Spears leveled, the Tauren-like creatures, who he could finally determine weren't actually Tauren despite their similar build and looks, impaled themselves straight onto my soldier's wall of steel. And kept going. It was a testament to my soldiers that they stayed true to the tactics that had broken the Scourge in the Western Plaguelands, spears darted in and out of the Undead impaling numerous Scourge, swords and shields smashed bones to dust. And through it all, we backed up steadily towards the water.

Fights against the Scourge ended up being two things, very fast surgical strikes favored by Adventurers, and long, drawn-out battles with massive casualties that armies were cursed with.

Some of my soldiers were slow, weak, or simply unlucky, as even this tried and true tactic wasn't foolproof. Logs bigger than a man's torso crushed people under their bulk, with the lucky ones getting sent flying, meanwhile axes tore people apart with single swings, rending limbs and splattering viscera. Damn it, whatever this Necromancer had done with that purple smoke had made the Undead far stronger than normal. The casualties would be higher, even with the plan in place, the Light could only heal so much, but it was only a matter of time before they fell, their numbers now revealed to not nearly be what was required to guarantee victory. A suicidal charge could be weathered and rebuked, even if it was from Undead. But with the Undead empowered like this… What would be left of the landing force?

A 'Tauren' came rushing at me, spear leveled to impale me on it. I shifted to the side and the spear passed by without effort, slashing the creature's head off in retaliation. Another came charging with twin axes. Locking the blades with my own, I summoned the Light in my hand and with righteousness filling my veins, smashed the Hammer of Wrath straight through its rotting chest, sending it to the ground. But not killing it, I cursed under my breath and was forced to switch targets as another lunged at me.

Step by step we retreated, until at last we were at the point where the Mages and Riflemen had to reposition, this was the moment whe-

A pulse of something filled the air, making me nauseated for a second as hooks dug into my soul nearly causing me to be struck by a mace, thankfully it passed as the Light banished it allowing me to parry the attack. I sliced the corpse in half in retaliation before looking around. Others weren't as lucky as I was, dammit it all! I grit my teeth before calling out "Hold steady! We will not fall this day!" hoping to steel the souls of my troops. My eyes wandered upwards to the cliff where the Necromancer stood, the purple mist pouring off her and down the cliff. I watched as more of the 'Tauren' corpses fell from the cliff-top. It was then I realized this Necromancer wasn't a glory-seeking fool or a distraction brought against us.

Between her unique spells, the unusual empowerment she's gifted her Undead, and sheer power...This was a monster on par with the Four Horsemen of Naxxramas, a being versed in destruction. I had never seen nor heard of Necromancy being wielded like this before with such a vast range and power from only a single mage. Something was wrong.

I was proved right when bolts of lightning came flashing from the cliff, all focused on one area of the line. I heard the agonized screams, and with a bellow, I sent what few reserves we had to reinforce them, just as the Scourge broke through. A call came from one of the Sergeants, and as I watched in dread, the moment they turned and ran to the breach, another two sections of the line broke under the unceasing assault. As another lash of lightning fried screaming men and women in their armor, I made the call and hoped it was the right one.

"RETREAT! REFORM THE LINE FURTHER BACK!"

Covering fire came from behind us as we turned, slowing the Scourge forces back as we retreated further and further into the landing. With the narrow passages formed by the piles of supplies, we could hold them for a while, before they got wise to sending the crates tumbling and overwhelming us. Shots whizzed by and tore the front rank of the Scourge, giving us even more time to set up at a new position away from the Scourge.

It wouldn't last long, not under the leadership of that Necromancer, so I had to come up with a way to get rid of them…

Quickly leaving people in charge of the second line, I ran over to one of the mages as she was preparing another spell, catching her attention with possibly the worst 'name' in this situation, but given the circumstances, I didn't give a damn. "Mage! I need you to get to the Fleet and tell them to focus fire on the cliff. The Necromancer in charge of this attack is up there and directing the Scourge like puppets. If she goes down, we can mop up the rest with ease." She gave a nod and quickly gathered arcane energy into her hands before teleporting to the ships, leaving me with the hell here. Without the covering fire from the cannons the casualties would only mount faster, but having them fire into our supplies was a good way to turn this into a losing victory regardless.

Turning back to the battle, I held back a grimace to see the second line already faltering under the unrelenting onslaught of the 'Tauren' corpses. With only a moment's hesitation, I pulled the forces not committed further back, where the Dwarves and a few Gnomes were setting up one of the newer models of cannons. I didn't understand the thing beyond it shot cannonballs and things died. And by the Light that's all I needed at the moment.

Quickly organizing the line, I saw a familiar face and quickly made my way over to him. "Thassarian!" He looked none the worse from the ordeal, blood smearing his armor and swords the only major difference since I had seen him last. "I need you to hold the left flank, the Cannon may well be the only thing that sees us through." He gave a nod and started to move away before stopping and looking back at me.

"General… That necromancer. They are far too powerful. Something is wrong."

"I know. We need to pull out. Start getting supplies and people back to the ships." He nodded again before rushing off to the flank, while I went to the center, chanting a prayer under my breath to the Light for strength and protection. The second line buckled and broke under the tide of death, and I quickly gave another prayer for their souls to reach the afterlife before readying myself for the Undead horde.

A Hammer of Wrath appeared in my left hand, and with hammer and sword, I smote the Scourge that came at me, at this point, it was a matter of delaying them until the Necromancer was taken care of, or the majority of my remaining forces got out. The landing was now doomed regardless unless the Necromancer was killed here and now, and that was unlikely unless they died in the bombardment or its aftermath.

By the Light, if they were worse, it'd be a miracle if anyone got off this beach alive.

I staggered back after a particularly crushing blow, corpses surrounding me as I fell out of the battle trance. With a yell I sent the Hammer spinning through the air into the 'Tauren' that had landed the first and only blow on me so far, smashing its head apart and dropping the corpse for the moment. Given a short moment, I looked over the battle and grimaced as my thoughts were proven right, my troops barely hanging on, the cannon was silent with spears sticking out of the crew's bodies.

The spiraling descent into despair was stopped momentarily as cannons rang out, and I watched as cannonballs whistled through the air towards the Cliff. I backed away from the encroaching Scourge, bellowing for a retreat as the cliffside erupted in a shower of rock and dust. There was no cheering or jubilant nature, just a grim dedication to getting this done and getting out of here.

The dead kept coming, and soon enough we were pushed back at the rowboats and few landing craft we had, holding the line against an unending tide that wanted to drown us under its weight. We butchered them until the sands ran red, a sign that they were freshly dead, they burned to ash, and the rancid smell choked us, we blasted them into pieces from over-sized guns. They still kept coming.

"General!" I looked to my side to find Thassarian there again, just as the corpse in front of me fell in pieces, a pause in the onslaught, blood staining my blade as exhaustion started to seep in. Even with the Light granting me strength, getting knocked around and constant slaying was a tiring experience, and I was close to my last legs. I motioned for the Death Knight to speak with a tired wave, leaning on my sword to prevent myself from falling to the ground. "They're coming down."

A spyglass found its way to my hand, a small burst of energy letting me straighten and peer through it to the clearing dust cloud… and finding the Necromancer walking down through the air. No… not the air, levitating chunks of earth that acted as a mobile staircase for them were letting the Necromancer walk down as if it were nothing. And… the way they were walking was reminiscent of the one time he'd been to a Noble's gathering, back before the Horde arrived and King Llane and Queen Taria came down the ballroom stairs.

This person… Who were they? And why didn't we have any information on them?

I was about to pull the spyglass down when I noticed the gleaming at their right hand, and my breath caught as I saw the lower arm was pure starlight, something that made no sense for a Scourge to have. The hand was raised into the air and then slashed down.

My only warning was a sudden overhead glare of sunlight.

Immediately I felt the blast, nearly sending me to the sand if I didn't catch my sword and hold myself. Thassarian was in no better position from the blast of whatever it was, both his swords straining to keep him rooted in place. As the blast subsided, dread welled in my heart before I forced myself to look back at the Fleet…

It was a terrible sight, and it put me in a position I had not wanted to be in.

Our seven largest vessels were sinking, or rather, what was left of them were, and another three were barely managing to stay afloat. There couldn't be another bombardment, it would take too long to shift more ships in place, and the crews were already busy rescuing who and what they could. Which meant more bodies for the Scourge to use elsewhere. As much as it was suicide for me and those still here, I had to send the remainder of the Fleet to Dragonblight, where Wyrmbane and the 7th Legion were landing.

Light have mercy on our souls.

"Thassarian." The Death Knight looked at me, not in the slightest bit tired, but I expected no less of an Undead War Machine. "Get to the Fleet, get them to go to Dragonblight, and reinforce Commander Wyrmbane. We will hold them off for as long as possible." The man looked like he was about to argue before I lost my temper and railed on him. "Don't say a Light-damned word! Get to a damn ship, get the Captain to relay orders, and make sure we didn't die for nothing! Those ships need to get out of range!"

He stood there before he inclined his head, unholy energy gathering in his hands before a barded horse came charging out of nowhere, the Death Knight grabbing hold of the reins in an instant as the horse passed and sending them careening into the mist-lined shore. For a moment I stood there, contemplative of the sudden appearance of the mist, but before I could do anything, a hunting horn blew through the air, and I was left startled as something came crashing into the sands. A peal of cruel-sounding laughter coming from the gathering mist, as I dodged backward, hacking the corpse of another 'Tauren' that had suddenly emerged from the thickening mist and sent it back to the ground.

"TAZ'DINGO!"

And before I could register anything more, the warcry of the Trolls sounded through the air, and I was left in a moment of uncaring annoyance. First Scourge, then whatever the hell the horn was, and now Trolls? What was next, a Murloc invasion, or maybe the Burning Legion would darken the skies again? Why not make the Black Dragonflight appear now, that'd be great.

The crunching of something heavy crashing into the sand caused me to look back, and what I saw was not something I honestly expected to see. Granted, I had seen a lot, in these many years, but seeing a tiny sea giant was something I wasn't expecting today. Smiling cruelly down at me, I couldn't bring myself to care anymore and simply pointed my sword at him in the gathering mists.

With a roar of incomprehensible sound, the giant rushed straight at me with an axe raised high
and cruel glee on its horrid face. I ignored its idle noise and darted forward, getting under its guard, what little there was as it swung wildly at my movement, and stabbing my sword straight through its briny flesh. It howled in pain, another wild slash missing me completely as I backed out of range, hate replacing its glee as it raised its axe again and charged straight at me. I gave a prayer and a Hammer of Justice formed above the giant, and with its end, the Hammer crashed straight into its head.

Promptly making the 'giant' explode into sea debris and mist…

For a moment I stared dumbly at the pile of flotsam, before pointedly looking away and ignoring it. After everything else today, what was one more ridiculous thing on top of all that, and it wasn't as if I was going to live long enough to get any answers on what that was, or why Trolls and the Scourge were apparently working together with these creatures.

The sounds of increased battle drowned together into a raucous cacophony as I planted my sword into the sands, my breath heaving as the battle finally started to make itself known more than I could ignore it. Forcing myself to ignore the pain and exhaustion, I called on the Light to heal myself as best as I could with the limited strength I could muster and eased my breathing as the pain melted away. The exhaustion remained, but the Light could not heal such things, as much as many of the Paladins wished it could.

Pulling my sword from the sands, I was about to walk into the mists and the battle beyond when something came flying through the air, only well-honed reflexes managing to keep it from hitting me as I ducked under it. Chancing a look back, I grimaced before looking away and turning back to the direction it came from. The Scourge was known for barbarism, as were the Trolls, but that was an entirely new low that I had seen, and the Jungles of Stranglethorn had many lows.

Creaking metal echoed as the culprit of that crime against the living approached, and I understood one part of what was happening. A giant of a Troll stood in front of me, clad in dark armor with two icy blue eyes boring out with a madness that shook my soul, two axes gripped in his hands, one a small hatchet of Troll origin, something I wasn't expecting to see, and the other a greataxe of Scourge design. I said nothing, I did nothing as the Death Knight slinked forward despite the armor, throwing his arms wide as an aura of bloodlust assaulted me.

"Human. Ya seem like ya be de Boss of these weaklings." I raised my sword but didn't answer, something that the Troll seemed to find amusing if the dark laughter was any indication. "Tzo'zi be enjoying dis. Tzo'zi'll make ya suffa… and if ya manage to live long enough, Tzo'zi be tinking ya worthy of da collection."

"Light. Grant me the strength to slay this abomination."

With my prayer said, I strode forward with purpose, swinging my sword straight at the Troll with a Light-infused strike. A resounding clang echoed through the mist, his axe grinding against my sword as he effortlessly held back the strike. I felt a cut across my chest and disengaged from him, my left hand stemming the flow of blood as I held my sword with a sure hand at the Death Knight.

He kept advancing, slowly and surely, drinking in my pain, offense was not viable, not with him dual-wielding and being proficient in it. And I didn't have near enough strength left to form a Hammer of Wrath, leaving me to remain defensive.

I didn't wait long as the Troll lunged forward, greataxe intent on cleaving my head in two. I blocked the blow and was sent to the ground, my sword shattering under the strength of the Death Knight. Pain blossomed in my chest again, coughing up blood as I was sent skidding across the sand. "Oi. I thought ya were supposed ta be strong. Ya be a Paladin, so ya got ta be strong like da Paladins that went into Zul'Aman to fight me Brudda."

With agony coursing through my body, I forced myself to stand up. Was it pride that forced me to stand, hating the comparison that I was weaker than some no-name adventurers? Was it righteousness, seeking to kill this killing machine even if it cost me everything?

I didn't know, I would never know.

I threw everything I had left into forming a Hammer of Wrath. Light coursed through me, my body a living conduit for it to make its will manifest against the Death Knight in front of me. Crackling roared in my ears as burning replaced the pain, my hand rearing back the forming Hammer as the Death Knight opened its arms wide and let out another laugh. "Yes! Show Tzo'zi ya best! Prove yaself worthy of Tzo'zi's attention!"

I ignored the ramblings, the pain, the world around me, and threw everything I had into the Light. I focused on the Blight in front of me, the epitome of the horrors of the Scourge. I threw the Hammer at him and felt the Light take hold of me.

I closed my eyes and fell.

greysongarr · May 3, 2021

Reaching my 'army' took some time, as while Tzo'zi and his knights had the benefit of mounts, the Taunka had the advantage of starting ahead and being unable to feel fatigue. Thankfully, they hadn't reached the 'Alliance' yet. Instead, we caught up to them while they were still sprinting across the craggy plains, and I was able to bring them to a stop.

I didn't know how much further it was until this 'Alliance' landing point, but here enough was a good place to plan and try to figure out if Tzo'zi had any information that could help me deal with the suicide mission given to me. "Dis be ya Army, Wraith?" My thoughts were interrupted by the Death Knight, and I quickly focused back on him as he looked over the assembled corpses of Taunka, drawing my attention to them.

Looking at them like this, I could understand they didn't look imposing, aside from their species. Most of them were in leather or cloth - or what was left, while the rest were little more than skeletons and thus not even armored the slightest amount. Their weapons were just as unimpressive, crudely fashioned clubs, hewn totems bigger than myself, spears, and even some axes, made of rock and wood. Not a single piece of metal was seen, and for a fantasy army, that was a significant disadvantage a-

"Can't be sayin Tzo'zi has worked with an army dis big before outside Zul'Aman. Ya sure are full o' surprises." His armor clanked and clattered as he unhunched himself to get a better look, the few thousand being challenging to see the scope of.

… Huh.

I… honestly wasn't expecting that to be what he said, granted I didn't know what 'Zul'Aman' was, but it had to be impressive if he spoke highly of it. "Not da best Tzo'zi eva seen. But dat's expected." He continued, not wasting a moment as he led his horse forward at a trot, looking over the Taunka as they positioned themselves into something resembling a military formation I'd seen before. "Wat be da plan then, Wraith?"

Yes, plan…

Well, I didn't have access to anything, but my Undead, my Guards - who were far too few to do anything beyond protect me - and Tzo'zi's Knights were likely going to act like the Knights of the 1st Legion. Cavalry, especially the heavily armored ones, were good hammers, breaking through whatever defense was there, so obviously they would be held in reserve… which I had a feeling would take a bit to convince Tzo'zi to agree.

Flashy slaughter worked with the Left Hand, and Tzo'zi was already reminding me of a more… savage worldview. Placating him with a good show and letting him watch the Alliance morale shatter should be enough to satisfy any delay.

My Guards were unusable as they would stay next to me given I was a 'squishy necromancer'. I was vulnerable to being attacked in melee, and thus I needed them by me, or rather that is what I would like people to keep thinking. Which left the Taunka.

Those creatures were perfect for shock troops, the problem being they'd be mowed down as I sent them forward by magic or ranged weapons, which was unavoidable regardless. I could certainly try to raise them back up as they went down, but even then, if the field was too large, or if the 'Alliance' had too many ranged capabilities, I'd lose too much - both magic and troops. Unfortunately, with no siege weapons, I wouldn't be able to force them to come to me, and my ranged consisted of spears and the Taunka's brand of magic.

I hummed before dismounting the horse and walking towards the Taunka, unmoving and doll-like in a way as I passed by them, Tzo'zi placidly keeping pace with me. "I have not faced this 'Alliance' before Tzo'zi. What can I expect of them?" He looked down at me, and even under that helmet, I could feel the eye raised, but I kept my self-assured and calm disposition and hoped it would dissuade him from asking anything… incriminating.

Thankfully, he decided just to answer the question. "Dem Humans be worthless had de Elves not taught dem dere magics. Dey'ze weak, trustin' in perverted magicks and false Gods." I had the feeling that if he were able, Tzo'zi would spit to the side, which said enough on his opinion… which I hadn't asked. "But. Dey do be tenacious an' unrelentin', specially de Paladins."

That was what I was looking for, but I still didn't know their tech level or what kind of magics I would have to expect. Fortunately, or unfortunately, he continued, and I was treated to learning more about this 'Alliance'. "Dem stunty half-pints bring with 'em guns, siege weapons, an' gizmos whereva dey go. Compensatin' for dere size, but de'ze deadly. That be all Tzo'zi knows on de Alliance. So wa'chu thinkin'?"

Okay, that helped a lot more, as I now knew that they had guns, which meant they likely had cannons as well. Which... made this much more difficult. "Mmm…" I closed my eyes in thought for a few seconds before coming to a stop, "My Undead will have to charge forward and meet them in melee while I overlook the battle." I turned to Tzo'zi as he looked down at him, his gaze trying to drill a hole through my head, so I continued without delay.

"You and your Knights will be held in reserve, awaiting a signal to let you know you can reach the battle without being hindered by ranged fire, let the fodder soak the brunt of their defense." What went unspoken was that I hoped to rout the Alliance before the Death Knights turned it into a charnel house. I wisely decided to use 'hindered', just in case I offended Tzo'zi by saying he and his men would die to cannons and guns, regardless of how powerful said guns could be. "The ones with spears and magic will remain with me to provide support from afar."

I quickly realized something I had been putting off for quite some time… those magic-users that I had fought… I had no idea how many there were, nor did I know how their magic even worked. I'd have to figure that out quickly before I sent the Undead forward - since time was of the essence - as, with every second, it became much harder to break them, with mounting defenses and troops. We would have to set out once I factored in the elemental magic the Taunka used.

Tzo'zi made a noise that was hard to place, becoming silent as he seemingly thought before eventually speaking to me again. "Tzo'zi don't like not being part of de first ones to break dem." Yeah, I had the feeling he was going to say that. The bloodthirst I felt back at En'kilah was enough to tell me about his answer long before I even made the plan. "Dere betta be someone worthy of Tzo'zi's Collection down dere, else Tzo'zi not gonna be happy." Huh…

He was willing to rein his bloodthirst in for this first battle. That was… more than I was expecting, if I was honest. "I hope for their sake they have someone worthy of you. It wouldn't be fair otherwise." A low, echoing chuckle came out from his helm, swinging his steed around to go back to his Knights before trotting away. I had a thought, one which left a - bitter? - taste in my mouth. The idea of letting Tzo'zi carve his way through the defensive line and slaughtering the commander would be a quick way to rout them… or make them fight to a bloody end, ruining my plan.

It was tempting to take that chance.

But it was a careful balancing act I kept having to remind myself to play: being competent enough to win with minimal casualties but also making it look like I wasn't trying to minimize my foe's death count. And on top of all that, I knew nothing of their culture. With humans, I could make some guesses… but relying on fantasy tropes from Bet for the rest was ridiculous, and yet it was all I had.

Which left my entire gamble on the Taunka magic I had to clear up before moving on. I had no idea where a magic-user was in the mass of undead, and with the lack of actually identifiable markings or… anything letting me know who was a magic caster, I had to do it the unique way.

By making the magic caster come to me.

A few seconds after I sent a pulse of energy and the directions inlaid in it, I saw a… I would guess that was a smaller than normal male, Taunka padding over to me, dressed in tattered hide without a weapon in sight. I could see a few others shifting through the crowd, all their movements in thoughtless sync with each other. Now came the part of figuring out how they did their magic, or rather, how to make them use their magic. Elemental magic in fantasy stories tended to be tied to the planet, which made me doubt I could do it myself, being so flush with Death energy.

I still didn't know how my mages back at the Harbor did their magic, just another thing to do when I was done with everything. The memory of last night came to mind when I had magma come flying at me from one of the Taunka. That would be an easy thing to start with since I had seen it before.

So with a mental command, I had the Taunka try to cast that magma blast… and immediately things went wrong.

There was no magma to begin with, which I assumed was just due to the magic users' death. Which meant whatever they derived their magic from couldn't be used anymore. That made the most sense and fell in line with my theory about Elements being tied to the planet and possibly life. The other thing that happened, however? It was the fact that the weather decided to become insane the moment I tried it.

A storm thundered above, despite not even thirty seconds ago there wasn't even a single cloud in sight, and lightning struck right in front of me, followed by a whirling wind that sent my robes fluttering and me barely managing to hold myself to the ground. Next, the earth itself decided to erupt in two places. One just burst like a fount of water, sending chunks of rock flying everywhere and nailing a few of my undead, while the other was with the addition of lava. Thankfully, none of said lava landed on my undead, but it was close.

I looked on as the slight dust cloud blew away, leaving me staring at three, for lack of a better word, Elementals. While the name might seem a bit unoriginal- What else were you going to call three beings made entirely out of fire, rock, and… wind?

The 'Earth Elemental' was a massive rime-coated stone golem that loomed over me with two trunk-like legs leading up to its barrel-like chest. The arms were just as large as its legs, ending in round, jagged cudgels instead of hands, which I supposed for an 'Earth Elemental' was expected. As for the 'head', my best guess was the spiked point jutting from the chest or it could just be the chest for all I knew from the lack of features.

Did I mention the fact that I didn't even come up to its knee? Because my mind was quite insistent on reminding me that it seemed important.

Magma dripping and hissing drew my attention to the 'Fire Elemental', who was much smaller, thankfully, and a bit more human-like than the Earth one was. For one, it had a head, and I could actually feel a burning glare directed at me despite the lack of eyes, given that its head was half-magma half-rock. Its arms were the primary source of the dripping magma, but even deformed as they were, they looked like human hands. The same couldn't be said of its lack of legs, as the magma that made up its chest went all the way to the pool below it.

The last one I could barely make out as it didn't have a proper body per se, but from what I could make out, as its shape was outlined with whipping snow, it looked like a miniature tornado with six eyes staring down at me. And by miniature, I meant it was almost as big as the 'Earth Elemental'.

"Bindings… Lost… Who dares… call...?"

"The corruption… beckons… Not Shaman…"

I should have expected something like this, but... What the fuck was going on? The moment I thought that the 'Fire Elemental' leaned forward, staring down at me with its molten 'face'.

"Why does… thing… call us…?"

I had no idea how to handle this, as not even my light magic lessons in Naxxramas mentioned 'Shamans'. I understood the meaning of the word, but beyond being a tribal spiritual leader… I took a moment to steel myself before staring back at them in an attempt to hide the fact that I had no idea what was going on. "I require your power. You will grant it to me." Was threatening the elementals a good idea? Hell no. But, their tone grated against me. The dismissal made me a little angry and annoyed, more people declaring me 'corruption'. And in the end, I had no idea how I was supposed to juggle this. Maybe if I wasn't being watched, I could beg or cut a deal, if that even worked, or if I wasn't pressed for time, I could have done actual research.

The elementals… didn't take kindly to it.

"And why... should we... obey?" The Earth Elemental rumbled, raising one of its bludgeon arms in a threat.

They spoke of bindings, implying the Tanuka knew how to bind them. Indicating it was possible. And while I don't know their methods, the magic of this world has proven to yield to power and will. With that in mind, I let instinct guide me, raising my stump in response to the question and threat, imaging an ethereal hand outstretched. Chains of murky purple sprang from the ether, quickly wrapping themselves around all the elementals, even the insubstantial air. I gripped with my 'fist' and, with another jerk of my stump, brought them down to a kneeling position before me. Whatever resistance they showed was ineffective against the unmitigable manifestation of the Sword of Damocles that hangs above all that lives. Their mortality.

I spoke clearly, and calmly. "You exist because I allow it." I forced them lower to the ground. "You will obey because I demand it."

There was silence in the wake of my declaration, and then the Air Elemental spoke. "We yield... we will serve..." Nodding to myself, I let the Elementals go, my chains disentangling from my arm and wrapped around them fully instead, as they gave their 'blessing' before disappearing.

Satisfied, I turned towards the direction of where the 'Alliance' was and calmly strode forward, a horde of the dead following in my wake, silent aside from the low thunder of their collective stride. My first proper field battle upon arriving in this world, and I was against the beings with a technological advantage, likely some kind of artillery, and knew how to fight Undead.

Just another day as the villain. Just another thing I'd have to make up for later...

The real question occupying me now is: where did the chains come from?

My staff clicked against the rough rock beneath me while my robes rustled in the howling sea wind. I had come to start enjoying the simple things. Yet, behind me, my horde and Tzo'zi's Knights stood ready to charge forward at their respective signals. People were going to die today, good people, assumedly noble people. But the ends justified the means, I would try my best to minimize casualties but I couldn't possibly anticipate how people I've never heard of would react… Below me laid the Alliance landing area, figures milling about doing tasks and shouting to one another, completely unaware of my presence.

There were so many of them and yet…

My gaze lifted to the ships on the horizon, sides pointed to the shore as landing craft and rowboats ferried supplies and men between the ships and shore. Considering that there were black-powder weapons, it was a simple thing to assume that cannons were on board those ships. While they may not be accurate like the weaponry I was accustomed to… what they lacked in accuracy or speed the crude weapons more than made up for in power, they would reap a bloody toll on my fodder. It would be acceptable losses as long as enough of them reached the Alliance.

I turned back to the camp just in time to see a figure point towards me. Silently I watched as a few of them scrambled about, directing people and getting equipment, before moving towards me and the cliff edge. I could barely hear them over the wind, but without knowing their language, it was practically pointless to listen and so I hardly paid it any mind as I kept watching them.

Shortly before they approached the cliff-face, I tapped my staff against the rock twice before leveling it forward. Immediately the thundering of hooves sounded as the Undead Taunka behind me rumbled forward, wordless roars and baying accompanying them as they rushed past me and leapt to the sand below. Alarmed shouts echoed across the beach, and those few that came forward tried to run, only to be trampled and battered under the wave of Undead bull-men surging ahead.

Of course, I left a fair amount up near me, they would serve as the 'second wave' to help break their morale. Several squads of spear-wielders and what I assumed were shamans given their clothing, stood on the cliff's edge, watching the charge of their brethren with me. A click had the spear-wielders rear their weapons back just as the encampment rushed to the defense, a wave of the staff sending the primitive things soaring through the air. I was under no illusions that what I was doing was normal - as no matter how powerful a creature was - a piece of wood is a piece of wood and the amount of force it would take to puncture steel was immense.

And that was before the matter of actually hitting something came in. A good thing me and my Partner were cheating. A little necrotic energy strengthening their stiff muscles, Partner directing their bodies. And some minor stealing of the same magic that gave the Sky Darkener's their precision.

The result was a good fifty spears raining down on the Alliance forces. From my position, I couldn't see the full effect of the attack, but I still saw multiple figures go down amidst the forces arrayed against me. Explosions in the distance alerted me to the cannons firing on my horde. A few precious seconds spent getting closer before vast swathes of my undead were blown apart in plumes of sand and flying limbs.

It hardly made a dent in my horde, and I felt my lips twitch at the sight. It seems my worries were unfounded.

But as the Taunka grew ever closer, puffs of smoke rose from the Alliance, and I felt a few of my undead fall apart at the front. Shortly after that, flames erupted in the middle of the front, not that it did too much damage as my Taunka barreled straight through like the bulls they resembled. Less effective were the shadowy bolts and ice spikes that flew from the Alliance side into my Undead.

Yet, more and more were whittled away, and for a moment, I was worried I'd lose the momentum of the fodder before it even hit the Alliance…

It was the second barrage that spurred me to action. A memory of an old movie from Aleph and the battle that took place at its end - its name eluded me - rushed to my mind as I tapped my staff against the ground. The brackish energy poured from me to form a wall of necrotic energy in front of my Taunka, the incoming projectiles flying straight into the wall and were reduced to nothingness: fireballs, bolts of ice, cannonballs, and more slammed into the wall, and as they crossed through the barrier the magic ate at their existence. I could feel my power drain from the sheer size of the construct and its effect, so I let the wall drop shortly after the volley finished. I didn't need it anymore as my horde was almost there.

With all the force of a wrecking ball, my horde smashed into the semi-organized Alliance, totem-logs crushing any soul unlucky enough to be in the way while axes butchered people alive. The Taunka kept pushing, and pushing, until finally being brought to a standstill just before the 'battlements' haphazardly made from supply crates, barrels, and timbers from what little I could make out.

I took my eyes off the horde and looked back at the carnage left behind, broken corpses and pieces of bodies strewn across the sands. Another tap of my staff sent my magic snaking down the cliff and reaching for the bodies of the fallen, stitching them back together and lifting them back onto their feet to shamble forward to join the rest of the horde. For a short while, I kept watching as they moved forward, going from shambling to walking and walking to running within a few seconds of being reknit.

I sent the spear-wielders with me forward along with the rest as a showy 'second wave', leaving the 'shamans' beside me as I looked back at the battle. The Alliance's defense was holding against my fodder, if barely, though I could easily see the areas that needed reinforcing in their lines, undermanned and faltering under the relentless push. All it would take to make it falter would be focusing on it with a portion of my forces instead of attacking across the line.

I had no idea what the 'shamans' - or rather I - was capable of, the one thing I had seen them do when I had… the only thing I saw them do was sling globs of magma at me. I did not doubt that they could do other elemental related attacks, so I left them to Partner to direct and experiment as I focused on the areas that were so close to breaking. Crackling met my ears, piquing my interest as I turned to the side and found the sight of actual lightning arcing between the bullmen's hands shortly before they hurled the bolts forward.

I watched in morbid glee as the lightning lanced into one of the areas that were already strained, chaining between multiple bodies before expiring alongside their lives. With a wave of my staff, the Taunka surged into the gap, and in a panic, the Alliance's reserves and extras along the front met them… At which point, the next position broke under the fires of magma and the innumerable bodies of the dead.

Another series of shots from the ships rang out, cutting into the horde again like wheat as what looked like blizzards and meteor strikes desperately tried to hold off the numbers rushing them. It was… so simple a battle from up here, much different from the many times I was walking amongst the battlefields both here and back before my death. My forces' momentum was short-lived, in part thanks to the bombardment and magic being deployed so vigorously, and with the dwindling number of undead in whole shape.

I had to break their morale soon, lest they defeat my fodder and actually gain morale.

The main obstacle was the ships drifting in the freezing waters below. Chewing through my undead with their cannon fire, they simultaneously represented morale to their allies and destruction for my horde. There were so many of them, so even if I took down one another would replace it, and they had forty to burn through before they were out. I had no illusion of my rapidly dwindling mana pool being able to manage that. Regardless, I wanted to make them flee, not eradicate them.

In the end, I doubted they would remain until all of them were destroyed. Morale and supplies were factors that they needed to account for, and if they happened to lose too many ships… Well, there wouldn't be many soldiers retreating.

I needed something… flashy. Highly damaging, but also very showy.

At my disposal were Cosmic and Death magic to deal with that problem, as my 'shamans' were severely underpowered to deal with a fleet that side, and the idea of my other Taunka attempting to get close… it was a laughable thought. I would try and work my new elemental… servants, but that was both a card I wanted to keep underplayed until I knew more. I also lacked a water-based one.

I watched dispassionately as the Alliance line broke again, folding as the undead Taunka smashed humans and dwarves aside with echoing roars, trampled over things even smaller than dwarves, and made a beeline straight at the next line of defense underneath streaks of lava and lightning... Which had cannons of their own providing support. Those at least were easy to deal with. A spear-wielder here and there empowered with necrotic energy sent spears sailing through the air, impaling the cannon crews as they tried to get the artillery prepared.

Another round of cannon fire, and this time I blinked at the lack of losing my forces right before I heard whistling.

The earth erupted beneath me, explosions from the cannonballs making me stumble about in a thick dust cloud on the crumbling cliff face. I felt the ground crumble out from underneath me, sending me into the beginnings of a free-fall for the briefest moment, as I mentally and physically prepared myself for the coming fall… only to have my feet touch solid rock directly after. With the obscurement of the dust, I couldn't tell what I was on. Beyond that it was stable and not falling.

The air was thick with dust, so much so that I could barely see my staff in front of me.

An impulse had me take a step forward, my body falling for a split second before I hit the ground again. I continued making my way forward and down, through the dust, unable to see yet feeling how a section of the battle was going through the 'deaths' of the Taunka.

Eventually, the dust cleared, and I found myself in the middle of the air, staring over the battle below atop a floating piece of rock. Chunks of rock broke apart behind me as I took my step forward, twisting and binding together to make the next step possible. It was magic that I did not know, and yet I knew exactly where it was from. The impulse made sense now. It also made for an excellent image to the opposing forces. A magic-user ignoring cannon fire. Thanks, Partner.

Which left me getting back to the actual problem I was having, and the solution to it.

From this distance, and with the number of targets involved… I would only have one shot at this, simple idea, brutal execution. Stars gathered where a hand should have been, my advance unhindered by the exertion I put into the magic about to be unleashed. I could see seven of the largest ships bombarding my troops, and another thirteen behind them were in my line of sight in such a way that I could see the majority of the ship's hull.

I closed my eyes and took a breath, the magic besides me growing restless and chaotic in its desire to be unleashed as more energy was directed into what would be a spell of mass destruction. The Sun was a star, a mind-boggling massive fusion reactor, but it had flaws like all things. Flare-ups. Lashing bands of energy powerful enough to be felt on distant planets. My eyes snapped open, and the magic at my fingertips pulled at its leash as I raised my 'hand' up, the magic 'eager' and 'desperate' to fulfill its purpose. Fitting the concept I was pulling on for this.

With the key deterrence to the Death Knights gone, they could run rampant against the Alliance while I raised and directed my forces to put pressure elsewhere. And with that, the battle would be over, and what remained of the Alliance fleet would be forced to retreat to another area they were assaulting on the continent, leaving only one other individual army to face here. And then I could go back to the Harbor, relax and finally do research!

I slashed my hand down, and with it came a return Solar Bombardment.

From the heavens, pillars of light smashed into the ships, a thunderous crash that sent the whole battlefield into a stunned silence. To my mind, it was something similar to when Behemoth fell, and everyone that remained looked upon Scion as he dispassionately went on his way. Except, I was still here, and I would see this task done.

When the light cleared, seven of the forty ships were in various states of torn apart debris, sinking into the frozen depths, with another three in awful condition, yet still able to sail. Meanwhile… I was struggling to stand after the massive spell I had just used… I could feel energy trickling back to me, but it was slow-going, and I doubted I would have enough to cast another spell for a good while. At the very least, I wouldn't have to worry about ano-

… Was that mist? Please tell me tha-

A horn blew through the gathering mist, and my heart sank as memories of the battle for the Harbor came back to me, specifically of the force of nature that was Sigvaldr. The only thing that helped me in this situation was the lack of incoming bombardment due to the mist obscuring vision, but I wouldn't know how long that would last. For all I kn-

"TAZ'DINGO!"

The 'battlecry', because what else could that bloodthirsty, hate-filled scream be, filled the air as Tzo'zi and his Knights leapt off the broken cliff behind me into the mist below. Paying them no mind, I continued my journey down. I wanted to see the encampment and any salvageable equipment I could take with me, as well as raise whatever wasn't already part of my horde. The only reason I felt confident coming down here was the lack of laughter piercing through the mists.

Sure it was faulty, but given my first meeting with him, I thought I knew enough about the traits of Sigvaldr to know he wasn't here. Which just left the regular Kvaldir, who I was reasonably sure I could take with my horde as it was. They weren't that dangerous compared to my first time facing them. Against a regular human, I could imagine their size, strength, and durability would carry them to victory nine times out of ten, but against undead bull-men, or Tzo'zi's Knights?

Or me?

I doubted it would be fair to the Kvaldir, not that I cared.

My feet touched the sands at long last as shouts and screams reached my ears. Paying them no mind, I walked forward with a surety that I certainly didn't feel until my Guards showed up through the mist and formed a protective detail around me. The mist was… thicker than I thought it would be, but I had no trouble navigating to the encampment, mostly due to it being a straight line from where I had been. It certainly didn't block out the noise of combat happening around me, the laughing of Tzo'zi, the crash of steel on steel, and so many other sounds echoing over the battlefield.

I didn't want to stay long, so I quickly went around and looked at the various supplies and equipment left behind by the Alliance in the mad scramble of battle. Naturally… I understood none of the symbols or markings adorning the crates and barrels, which meant I had to search through everything to figure out what was worth taking and what was worth breaking.

I looked down at a slain corpse by my feet, human judging by the build and size, a regular soldier by the equipment and armor he wore, and the perfect thing for a 'test'. A quick feel for my mana put a stopper on that. I should also keep the testing to a minimum in a warzone, even if all my developments seem to happen there. I sighed before moving on, necrotic energy lashing out into the corpses I passed by, twitching to life after a few moments and getting up without issues.

With a tap of my staff, they got to work, taking whatever wasn't nailed down near them and retreating to the cliff face. I was certain the 'shamans' could make a ramp or lift of sorts up to the top when this entire thing was done. For the moment though, I kept walking, not even reacting to the stray Kvaldir that came rushing out of the mist, only to be turned into minced seaweed under the Onslaught's 'care'. I sighed, frustrated that even with all the advancement I made the Kvaldir were still out of my grasp and continued on with raising the dead.

From the echoes of combat still around me, I could tell this might continue on for some time. At least they were distracted by the horde of Undead and Tzo'zi.

Escaping the battlefield was… difficult. Not from any enemies impeding me and my forces, nor from the terrain being challenging to traverse. No, the issue was Tzo'zi and his Knights, who were in what could only be described as a berserker fury tearing Kvaldir and Alliance remnants apart with swings of their weapon or, in Tzo'zi's case, ripping some in half with only his bare hands.

Those took a while to raise, but eventually, Tzo'zi and his forces calmed down, and with everything else salvaged as best as possible - the rest broken to scrap - I led my troops out of the mist. I had permanently lost around five hundred or so of my Taunka in the assault, which was… surprising, but the raising of the slain swelled my ranks by double what I had lost. So, in the end, I had come out for the better in this situation. I had assumed my plan would result in a near-total loss of my original fodder. Something was off. Either my fodder was sturdier than I thought, or the Alliance was just that bad at defending. Which… Occam's Razor dictates wouldn't make sense as anyone mounting up a full legion to send into an Undead wasteland would likely be ready to fight said Undead.

I feel like my time here has been nothing but me being unready for everything. It was starting to get frustrating.

By the time everything was done and ready to move, the night began to fall. Though compared to my time at the Harbor, the sky was remarkably bright, with the two moons basking us with their light. It was a… rather beautiful sight, I had to admit, the smaller blue one hanging near the larger white one like a parent and child, and one that I would have taken more time to enjoy if I could have.. As it was, I merely looked at it for a while before getting on Tzo'zi's steed and marching my army towards where the Horde was supposed to be.

Somewhere along the way, I had realized something. I didn't have to race back to the city to find 'evidence' or create a justification for my bosses. He was scum, they were ambivalent, and even my loaned underlings wanted him dead. I can just… kill him. And as long as I repelled the Horde and Alliance, I doubt I'd get more than a metaphorical raised brow from Kel'Thuzad.

It was refreshing for things to be so simple for once.

Just like with the 1st Legion, the Knights were cheerfully talking to themselves, even Tzo'zi laughing 'merrily' as if one could be merry after butchering people and forcing an army into a retreat… Well, I guess more 'savage' fantasy races and creatures would as per the tropes. I wasn't interested, though Tzo'zi seemed determined to get me to join in for some reason.

"-ong for a Paladin. Nothing like de 'Adventuras' of de Horde and de Alliance, but compared to de old ones? He was strong." I could feel the grin in his voice as he held the gruesome sight of a man's severed head in his hands, working on it for some reason as we trotted along. "Ya troops were a bit too good though boss lady, couldn't 'ave let us have some fun?"

I shifted a bit to where I was riding with both legs off one side before leaning my staff against my shoulder, resisting the urge to sigh. "As much as you and your Order are strong, Tzo'zi, I doubt you all would have survived the charge until the cannons were silent." My first words of the conversation put a hold to the festive air, stilting it as the Death Knights churned my words, though Tzo'zi kept doing whatever it was he was doing.

Eventually, one of them, sounding a bit more feminine than Tzo'zi… which could've been a normal male, or a female for all I knew, spoke. "Dat's rich comin' from a Human. Ya don't know strength if ya were hit with it." I chuckled a bit at those words, causing Tzo'zi to stop what he was doing as his focus went entirely to me, with the rest of his Knights keeping their attention on me. "What's wit' da laughin', Human?"

"It's funny. You fought under me and still say that."

My chuckling slowly faded, leaving a smile on my face as I turned to the one who had been speaking, one of the smallest of the Death Knights cleaning an axe of gore and blood still. "This body was made for me, and my old one is long gone." I would hope anyway, maybe I had a gravestone for Lisa and some of the others to pay respects to, and hopefully it would crumble away and leave them with only a memory of Khepri saving them… and not the many sins that she committed.

I shook my head lightly, before returning to the prior subject, best leave the self-discovery for later. "So, tell me. What do you consider strength?"

The Death Knight snorted, brandishing her weapon to the sky without replying as if to inspect it, before bringing it back down with a click of annoyance, resuming the task of cleaning it. "Strength be simple. Ya crush ya foes. Don't matta wat kinda strength it be." That was… simple as she said, and not what I was expecting as an answer… Especially since I destroyed several ships with a single spell. "Ya don't have strength. Ya just anotha necromancer tinking ya betta since ya know some fancy hoodoo."

I gave the flattest look directly at the small knight as she continued to clean the weapon. "And destroying several ships with one spell doesn't count as 'Strength' to you?" It was an honest question, at this point I was more curious at why that wasn't worth anything to them. It was quite stressful to come up with on the spot, then work out the proper symbolism, guide the energy…

I sighed internally. Regardless, knowing what they valued was important to keeping them placated after all.

It shrugged its shoulders. "Tzo-"

"Enough. Ya voice be gratin' on Tzo'zi's ears."

He didn't turn around. Hell, he didn't even look over his shoulder or anything. But his voice alone carried weight to it, and silence followed in its wake. I turned away from the Knight, wisely keeping silent to avoid the wrath of a creature that ripped people in half, and just focused on the unspoken words that the other Knight had been about to say.

It sounds like Tzo'zi had a little bit more going on than your average monstrous strength.

We kept going, and eventually, the silence became comfortable, for me anyway. Ultimately, though, I had to ask about the 'Horde' we would be fighting against. Hopefully, there would be some level of useful information compared to my question on the Alliance. "The 'Horde'... what are they like?"

The air grew cold the moment I asked, an underlying bloodlust and noticeable rage emanating from the Death Knight riding with me that my smile dropped, and I prepared for him to lash out if he was angry enough. "Traitas. All of dem." His voice was colder than ice, as was the air, and I was very grateful that I didn't require warmth as I would probably be shaking from the cold or just straight-up frozen, seeing as frost was accumulating on my arm and clothes.

"De 'Horde' came to me Brudda afta burnin' the Southern Kingdoms. Dey said dey'd help us kill de Elves if we joined dem. We burned de Elves' forest and towns, and when it came time ta siege de Capital of dem…" He turned his head slightly, letting me see a single, glowing blue eye that held unspeakable amounts of hate, and for a moment, I faltered before I steeled myself. "De Horde, with all der proclamations of honor and loyalty, abandoned us."

So, his grudge is based on an act of betrayal. Good to know, I guess. "Since your people... 'worked' with them for a time, you must know of their capabilities, Tzo'zi?" I didn't have to wait long before he looked back at the road, hate still stewing before he started speaking again.

"De Orcs are savages. They charge ta cut foes with axes and bash with maces. Catapults were de best they had for technology, but de made up for it with bloodlust and savagery worse den de Berserkers and Dires." I had no idea what a 'Dire' was, but a Berserker was self-explanatory… and told me what to expect of 'Orcs' now and in the future. "Don't know much bout de others, except for dem 'Blood' Elves."

Wait, what?

Despite my mind screeching to a halt at the words that I didn't expect to be uttered given what he'd said at the beginning, Tzo'zi continued. "De Elves use dem strange magicks, summonin' fire and frost on dere foes, using arcane might to destroy whateva's in dere way. Dey used ta be strong. Den da Scourge came." I could feel the note of glee in his voice as he said those words. "Dere's barely any Highborn left nowadays."

He grew quiet, and I let the air fill with silence, semi-uncomfortable with the knowledge that one of my foes would be a people that barely survived a genocide. Unfortunately, I had no say in my opposition, and the only thing I could do was make sure I hit the Horde fast and hard enough that they wouldn't have a choice but to retreat… provided the gracious Prince didn't fuck it up before I got there. But his penchant for delay tactics, combined with the speed of his shambling army and the extra time the Horde has to set up made me doubt what I arrived at wouldn't be a clusterfuck.

Before returning my gaze to the twin moons above, I sighed, still basking in their radiance. I was tempted to do what I had seen in a few movies before and raise my hand out to reach for the moon before I thought better of it and looked back down at the ground. Too much magic, symbolism, and with my newfound connection to the more Cosmic side, I feel like I might call down a moonbeam onto us. However, something on the ground caught my eye, and I immediately raised an eye at the equipment barely seen through the sparse grass alongside our path.

Some predator, or perhaps evening a roaming squad of Undead prior to my arrival, might have killed whoever that was, just as possible as it was that they had left the armor there as a decoy or some other reason. The boring answer was that it was a long-dead scout, and as we left it in the literal dust, I paid it no more thought.

Another sigh escaped my lips before I closed my eyes. I wish I could've slept, but such things were beyond me now, so I had to suffer through the long march to the Horde front.

I heard the fighting long before I caught sight of it. The tell-tale echoing clang of steel. The distorted clamor of creatures exerting themselves. And, of course, explosions - the classic sign of advanced life.

As Tzo'zi's mount crested over the ridge, I finally got a look at the battle I had heard for about ten minutes or so while passing through the terrain of the tundra. It was… not awe-inspiring, but something close to it from the sheer scale and amount of creatures involved.

Fires raged on the beach, driving away the mist to the point, where approximately a mile away, I was able to see nearly the entire beachhead and everything in it, a welcome surprise to be sure as it let me get a proper look to plan. While I couldn't see the edge of the beach, nor the cliff's base, I could see both actual armies and the Kvaldir parties running amok. The number of people put the last battle to shame.

The Horde had seemingly more of their forces landed and rather spread out, but by the looks of it, successfully, pushing into Valanar's forces, even with the Kvaldir in their flanks and back. I could see - and oddly feel - magic being hurled about, and while I didn't hear the crack of rifles or booming of cannon fire, the existence of explosions meant that something was causing them - a large contraption in all likelihood considering the ruined state of Valanr's own siege equipment. Aside from that, the actual soldiers of the Horde were a motley of creatures from what little I could tell from this distance.

Distinctly green-skinned creatures stood next to creatures looking like the Taunka, while humanoids looking like Tzo'zi butchered Undead a short distance away. While I couldn't see it all from a distance, the sheer fact I could see so much skin and fur told me their 'standard' armor had very little actual armor. In essence, the standard affair for what you'd expect of a high-fantasy military, following the more classic 'savage' theme.

"CORRUPTED BLOOD! DEATH TO DA TRAITORS!"

The sudden shout caught me off guard, and before I realized it, Tzo'zi was urging his mount towards the cliff edge. I had the closest thing to a moment of panic as I saw the edge come closer before I hurled myself off the undead horse to the ground, mere moments before the Death Knight and his Knights leapt down the cliff.

My landing was not graceful in the slightest, and getting up with only one hand was far more complicated than I would have liked, but with my staff I managed to make it back to my feet. I had to hold back a growl of annoyance as I stared at where Tzo'zi had leaped off before shaking my head. A pulse of magic and tink tink of my staff sent my horde of Undead surging forward off the cliff behind them.

Was I mad that he just up and charged straight in? Not quite. Yet, I had no desire to be down in the middle of a bloody battle when I was better off looking over the battlefield and directing my forces from above. While I could 'ask' him to follow my orders, he wasn't beholden to them. So the only thing I could be annoyed with in this situation was him nearly taking me down into the middle of that mess below me.

With that out of the way, and with no real problem with just sending my forces in, since Prince Valanar, in his infinite wisdom, apparently thought mindless undead against skilled combatants in a frontal assault was a good idea when they had so many people on the ground. It wasn't like with my tactics with the Alliance earlier. That was when they were unprepared, with better troops at my beck and call. No, throwing regular undead against actual soldiers was a fool's play, even with a numbers advantage. Especially if following the savage trope, those massive bodies weren't just for show. A quick check proved they weren't, as from my vantage point I could see how much the Horde had ground down Valanar's army.

I was barely knowledgeable in army versus army battlefield tactics, and even I knew better than this shit plan Valanar put together. It's actively a waste of bodies and time, and he had just gone and done it out of spite. I shook my head. Who was worse? The fool or the people that follow him?

It was going to be very… cathartic to kill that smug asshole, and if it happened to put me in a position where people were looking at me with fear or good will, all the better. If it put me in a negative light, oh well. Nothing new there.

I only paid a small bit of attention to the battle below, it was a mess, and with how things were laid out, it was just going to continue being a meat grinder to push the Horde out, not even considering the Kvaldir running around. And since it was going to turn out like that, there was little point in paying any more attention or trying to resolve a swift and decisive rout. At this point, it was just a long-drawn-out wait for the Horde to, hopefully, finally, retreat, and then I could kill that asshole.

To be honest with myself, I wasn't scared of Valanar. His shows of 'competency' had made my opinion of his abilities gradually lower, his original plan failed utterly, and when he was forced to do the most straightforward plan known, he fucked it up. How do you fuck up 'Charge' of all things?

I wasn't scared of him or any ability he had hidden up his sleeve. I had already faced far worse than him here with less power than I had now, and if he tried to bring any back up into our… dispute, I could take care of them easily with my own Undead. And with that over with, I could finally have some time to do things that needed to be addressed when I got back to my Harbor.

Learning language, testing out magic, finding its limits, discovering the various bits and pieces this world had to offer, and planning out what I would do next. So many things I needed to do, and I was so close to starting on them. I just needed to get done with this and ki-

"WRAITH! YOU HAVE COME!"

… Of course he's here. Why wouldn't he be? And for that matter, how could he have possibly spotted me?

With a heavy heart, I looked down at the chaos from where the shout came from, finding the giant of a Kvaldir in the middle of the fighting. It was difficult not to see him with his skull helm and two swords towering over the crowd even at this distance. Shortly after finding him, he continued his bellow, uncaring of what was happening around him, and why would he? He was a Natural Disaster made manifest. " FACE ME ONCE MORE!"

With a sigh, I resolved my spirit as my guards spread out behind me, ready for the inevitable. Either I would go to him, or he would come to me, and while I didn't want to see what his idea of 'closing the distance' was while I was on a cliff face, it was better than wading into the bloody mosh pit below. Waving my staff in the air, I beckoned the force of nature to me, a howl of laughter reaching my ears before he began the trek forward through the mob of combatants.

If a person looked at what I was doing, they would question that decision. Purposefully inciting the creature three times my height - which I already knew was capable of carving apart pretty much anything I threw at him - and had withstood a Deathbolt powered to the point where it nearly killed me to fire it sounded like a terrible idea. Except, he was going to beeline straight to me, regardless of what I did, so there was nothing I did that would incite him worse beyond ignoring him.

Death gathered where a hand should have been, and a spear of Death formed before being sent hurtling straight at the Giant. It was doubtful it would do anything, but even a fraction of a second would help.

Maybe.

I continued to debate with myself. Going down had the benefit of having more people to throw in-between me consistently and Sigvaldr. Still, there was no guarantee a single one of them would even make him stutter, with the added disadvantage of getting in the way of anything I might attempt. Staying up here had the advantage of allowing me to throw magic at him, as well as being void of most anything, but it left me without any meatshields, sans my guards.

The Deathspear splashed harmlessly against the slabs of metal he called swords, telling me just enough to know my empowered version wasn't going to cut it either. Another test, before I tried something ludicrous, was necessary. Starlight gathered quickly, and with a slice of my now stary arm, I called a focused beam of reflected solar energy a… Lunar Strike. I hoped its association with a gentler purity - with reduced cost to me - could prove viable.

A deafening crash sounded as the pillar of light smashed straight into Sigvaldr, dissipating quickly to leave a cloud of sand kicked up from the impact. From which, Sigvaldr rocketed through without a scratch on his person, still laughing to his heart's content.

Well, that didn't work. Good to know it'd be a waste to use 'lower' Cosmic magic, at least.

Death coursed around me as I sent volleys of empowered bolts at the Champion, every single one cut in two or dodged with an ease that didn't belong to such a large individual. My magic would work on him then. He wouldn't avoid it otherwise, but those damn blades of his…

I clicked my tongue in irritation before stopping my casting entirely, he was getting too close, and I was just wasting time and energy since Sigvaldr was clearly experienced fighting magic users. With a sigh, I turned around and walked a ways away, my guards drawing their weapons in preparation for what was going to be a terrible time.

I racked my mind trying to come up with something to use against him. But, I didn't have to wait long before I heard rocks being crushed, and shortly after it started, the shadowed figure of Sigvaldr 'flew' into the air in front of the sun, crashing into the ground with all the weight of a Crawler-tier Brute. A hearty chuckle left him as he stood up, looking every bit the same as the last time I had seen him… weeks ago? Armor still barnacled and rusted, the bones on his head and shoulder still pristine, black cloak gently waving behind him.

The only thing that truly made no sense was that his swords were back in perfect condition. I could understand if he picked up something similar to those swords. But, this was just my mind running with what little I knew of fantasy 'artifacts' - since the weapons were obviously something rare - the unique swords can't be made that quickly. Of course, he could have a spare set, but given how he had said they'd never been broken before...

A lumbering footfall brought me out of my thoughts, the giant of a Kvaldir letting out a laugh as he readied his swords into what I assumed was a stance. Before anything else happened, I opened my mouth, putting the thoughts of those swords away for another time, and asked a question that I should have asked before he 'killed' himself the first time.

"Before we start, might I know who I am fighting? It's only fair, seeing as I told you mine the last time."

I knew his name, but anything to delay him for even a bit was worth it. Besides, he may say something that could help me later. Granted, most of it would be things I had no knowledge of, but eventually, it could be useful. Hopefully.

Whatever the case, the Champion stopped in his tracks, cocking his head to the side as if he was in thought, which… "Mmm…" Which meant he was giving it actual consideration. My focus was split between listening to him and running through a list of every scrap of fantasy I could remember concerning Death and Cosmic magic. "I suppose that is fair, Wraith. Too long have I been used against those who revered me.."

So he was famous… was I fighting a 'Living Legend' or something? The fact that he was Kvaldir now… did not make me very confident.

That explained so much.

With a flourish of his blades, Sigvaldr exited his stance into a more 'relaxed' form, one sword laid against his shoulder and the other planted against the ground. "I am Sigvaldr Dragonsbane! Champion of Voldrune and the King's Personal Slayer! I have only tasted defeat once in sixteen millennia and have finally found a new challenge worth facing!" … Sixteen Millennia!? I'm sorry, but what the actual fuck!?

As I had my rightly deserved 'panic attack' without showing anything on the outside, Sigvaldr shifted back to his combat stance, pointing one of his oversized swords at me and grinning as laughter spilled out. "Die well, Wraith! May the Gods have favor on your soul."

…

In response, I raised my staff at him, hiding the panic inside and uttering the first thing that came to mind. "I've filled my quota for dying, thanks." Pithy quotes aside, something nagged me. I had an idea. Another spell of laughter, amusement coloring it, came out before Sigvaldr pushed off the ground in a dead sprint straight at me.

Despite what I had just learned, I still intended not to die. All I had to do was ensure I lived. I didn't have to defeat him, just make him leave like last time.

Death surged through my arm before I shot the supercharged bolt straight at Sigvaldr, as four of my guards rushed forward to meet the Kvaldir while the other two took up positions just in front of me, ready to shield me from the inevitable. The Deathbolt smashed into one of Sigvaldr's swords, sending it recoiling in the impact, though not flying - I wasn't that lucky. Sigvaldr spun with the motion, twisting in place and swinging the mass of metal straight at the lead Onslaught.

I readied another bolt of the same power, even as I sent a rush of magic into my guards. Hopefully, Gothik's lessons on strengthening Undead would be valuable here. A shield was raised, pitifully small against the greatsword, and a resounding crash echoed before the guard was sent bodily flying through the air. Better than before, certainly, and it meant I was able to fight Sigvaldr… for the moment.

The second blade crashed down on the next of my Guards, the ground buckling underneath them as they took the quick strike straight to their shield, somehow not falling to the ground in the process. The two remaining Onslaught circled around and cleaved down with their own, reasonably-sized, greatswords. Metallic scraping screamed in the air as the Champion slid his sword off the shield, knocking aside the blade aiming to pierce his left thigh while nimbly dodging around the other.

A flick of my arm sent another bolt flying at Sigvaldr shortly after he started reacting to my two guards, the massive creature still in the process of turning from both when the bolt slammed straight into his chest and exploding. The blast sent my Onslaught skidding back, while Sigvaldr simply spun with the momentum again before looking in my direction. I could feel the grin directed at me as another laugh bellowed forth, sword lowered to the side before he pushed off the ground straight at me yet again.

A kick sent the spearman in front of him flying directly at me, and without a prompt from me, one of my two protectors sidestepped straight into the path of the human projectile, bracing himself and catching his comrade, sliding back from the force behind them. Stopping just before they slammed into me, the impromptu projectile got back to their feet and took a spot alongside the other two, ready to intercept whatever my foe had in store for me. Gathering more magic in my arm, I hesitated to send it flying at Sigvaldr, even as he raised his sword in preparation to cut through my guards.

Bolts were doing nothing in the grand scheme of this 'duel', and I needed something that would deal damage or lock him down... Cosmic magic was flat out. I only knew how to drop bombardments on people, and trying to figure out other parts of the magic now was a idiotic decision, especially as an extended windup time seemed to be a common trend. And just pouring everything into an attack like the first time was also out, I wasn't desperate enough. Not yet, at least.

Regardless of whatever I did, I was going to get in close-combat with Sigvaldr. I'd rather face three Lungs at once.

Wait… Lock him down. I just needed to live. And those chains from earlier… I could use those.

With a motion that I could barely follow, Sigvaldr seemed to twist on the spot, sword smashing aside my Onslaught with brutal ease before he reared his right blade up, ready to cleave me in half. A flick of my arm sent a chain hurtling between the Giant's legs, embedding itself in the earth behind him before retracting, pulling me as I skid along the ground, narrowly avoiding the death blow. "Oh?"

I paid no mind to the exclamation, charging a Deathbolt in my staff's head and unleashing it straight into Sigvaldr's leg as I passed, the ensuing explosion of Death sending me hurtling faster to the chain's end. As I tumbled across the earth, I saw my foe stumble a step before recovering with a turn, the simple joy I could see beneath that skull and smile unnerving.

Someone shouldn't be that happy fighting, I could understand if they were an insane individual like Crawler, interested in Pain and overcoming new inflictions. But… Sigvaldr? He just loved battle. He laughed, smiled, and radiated joy of all things in the midst of being struck and striking others.

Scrabbling to a stop and dispersing the chain back into the mass of Death fog coalescing around me, I quickly hopped further back as the slab of metal called a sword smashed right through where I had been. Bits of rock battered my body, one significant one managing to strike me hard enough to carve my cheek open. I ignored the superficial wound and came to a stop, getting back to my feet just in time to watch as one of my guards sprinted forward, sword raised and ready to try and pierce Sigvaldr's armor.

He was down a sword. If I could distract him somehow, my guard could do some damage to the Champion, nothing too game-changing, but death by a thousand cuts was a viable strategy.

Rearing my arm back, I whipped it forward with little pause, a set of chains manifesting around Sigvaldr before they shot at his sword, wrapping around it before pulling taut. He looked down in what I thought was surprise before letting out a laugh, letting go of the sword, and turning so fast that he looked like a blur for a split second. Easily avoiding the attempted backstab, I came to a rather obvious conclusion as the Kvaldir continued his motion and grabbed my guard in his hand.

Sigvaldr, without his swords, was only slightly less dangerous than he was with them.

And that was proven true as he pitched my guard straight at me.

Eyes widening, I had no time before the Onslaught slammed back-first into my chest, sending us tumbling across the rocky ground for a good few seconds before we finally came to a stop. Thankfully, I was on top and not crushed under a fully-grown man in armor. I rolled off my guard, letting him get up as well, just in time to see Sigvaldr reclaim both his swords, and see the rest of my guards warily circling hi-

"LOK'TAR OGAR!"

I blinked before looking to my left and found several of the Horde charging Sigvaldr and me. Mostly green-skinned creatures, I was intrigued by the inclusion of the brown-skinned one that was leading them, idly wondering if he was a sub-race of some sort before shaking my head and ignoring the thought. It wouldn't do to get distracted, especially with another side added to this 'duel' of ours.

Paying only a little attention to them as they split into two groups, I looked back to Sigvaldr, finding him with a slightly less bright smile as he regarded the unexpected combatants. "Interfering with a duel. Honorless Curs." Turning his head back to me, his smile brightened back to what it had been prior before letting out a laugh as he rushed my Onslaught nearest to the charging creatures. "Let us take care of the rabble first Wraith! Then we may continue our fun!"

I pointedly ignored his last words.

With him preoccupied for the moment, and that was all I expected from this interruption, I turned back to the group rushing straight at me. I counted somewhere around six or so of them, all armored in the exact same black iron-like armor with burnished gold embellishments, save for the brown-skinned one in dark armor, head fully exposed like an idiot and a red tabard flapping about as he yelled in some tongue. My guard ran to meet them as Death manifested again in my hand, my mind weighing pros and cons in order to deal with this.

Three of the six broke off to face my guard while the rest circled around and kept running. I didn't want to spend too much magic on these enemies, as I still had Sigvaldr after I got done with them, and utilizing the least amount of magic for the best value was what I needed to do. Which is why I sent a volley of normal Deathbolts careening straight at the group that weren't engaged with my guard.

Seeing the bolts of magic screaming towards them, the helmetless Horde soldier barked something out and dropped to the ground in one motion, sliding under the bolt as it tried to correct its course too late, his fellow soldiers were not so lucky as he was. Blasted straight on with the conception of Death made manifest, they crumpled and clattered as they hit the ground, lifeless and unmoving, leaving only the brown-skinned creature left to face me. Quickly getting up, he resumed his charge with an angry warcry, rushing me down in an attempt to stop me before I did something else.

Already I was in a better position. Three warriors against a necromancer in direct combat was a death sentence to the necromancer. One against one, well… the warrior still held an advantage, but that wasn't something I could really change, especially without more practice.

I collected Death in my arm again as I leveled my staff out. I could only hope that my guards would finish up the remaining warriors facing them. Until then, I would attempt to evade or deflect an angry, overly muscled creature with experience fighting casters, or at least necromancers. All while also not using any more magic than necessary for the actual fight. Actually… Why not attempt to apply Reinforcement to myself? It would be cheaper than Chains of Mortality and I was technically more familiar with it...

At the worst, I would have a future idea to work on if it went wrong. At best, it's something I could use to my immediate benefit, so I had nothing to lose in trying it.

The resulting 'feeling' I got as Death coursed through my flesh and into my bones was somewhat like when Amy messed with my Shard, though it felt wrong - like I tried to seal an active pressure cooker. Yet at the same time… I looked back at the charging warrior, the dual axes in his hands held to his right side in windup for the swings. With a howl, or maybe it was a warcry, he swung both axes straight at me, only to meet my staff in its path.

But… Death sufusing my being… It felt right.

Forcing my body forward, I pushed the creature back much to its apparent, but momentary, surprise and used that time to take a step back. I didn't want to use any more magic than necessary, and if he could dodge one of my projectiles from that close of a range and speed, then it would be a waste of magic to send bolt after bolt at him. Not to mention it would leave me open in CQC. Maybe it was a fluke, but I wasn't willing to take any chances, not when I just needed to wait a bit longer for my guards. Unfortunately, as strong as I now was - and as much previous training I had - I highly doubted any of it would be overly effective for me. Between my unknown amounts of new strength and the non-lethal nature of my former training I very much doubted I could subdue this Brute. Especially one wearing possibly magical armor, who has trained their whole life for mortal combat.

Sure, I could try a contest of strength and try to use point-blank raw Decay...

Another roar of challenge, and I was forced to stop thinking just to weather the onslaught of blows. He had immediately learned his lesson - which put him above near-mindless creatures that I associated with 'Hordes' from various literature - as he staggered his blows with alternating tempos and kept it at a pace where all I could do was play catch up. The first few were simple enough, as I used my staff to redirect the blows combined with a sidestep. But the swings increased in speed quickly. Leaving me to defend against them with an unbalanced staff meant to be used as a casting focus, with a single hand, forced to use more and more of the staff to tank what blows I couldn't redirect in time.

Metal sparked with each clash, but a glance at my staff made me alarmed, as I quickly realized my mistake from the beginning of this fight. While, I may have reinforced my body, successfully and without anything negative to show for it… I had not done the same to my staff. I hadn't even thought to do the same, or if it was even possible. An easy mistake to make, it was metal and had served me well so far, but now with chips and gouges becoming more numerous with each failed total deflection, it wouldn't last much longer.

The orc lifted both of his axes above his head and let out yet another shout, then cleaved down with all his strength. Hastily raising my staff in the way, I wasn't shocked when the impact cleaved through. With the staff's weighty head sheared off and my balance broken, my arm swung wide giving the creature all the opening he needed.

An opening that he seized with gusto if the nasty, snarling smirk he gave was of any indication. I could only watch as he smoothly transitioned the recoil of hitting my staff into a wide stance, each ax positioned horizontally. My magic reacted sluggishly compared to when the focus was in my hands, all thoughts of energy conservation absent, and it was only now I realized I had grown complacent with it. The axes were swung and bit into my neck… only to be stopped by the reinforced bone. But I could feel it. Those axes had bit deep, and if they had hit the same vertebrae...

The warrior wrenched his axes out of me was about to swing again when my guard bodily slammed into him from the side, sending the creature rolling across the ground as my guard positioned himself in a protective stance in front of me. Slowly struggling to get up, a heavy air settled on me even as my chest and neck began leaking Death to the ground.

"You."

My body froze at the single word from Sigvaldr, positively dripping with anger and determination. I slowly panned my head from the warrior to Sigvaldr - and the corpses surrounding him. My guards still on their feet despite being battered and on the verge of collapsing from the building list of injuries their bodies had taken. He looked straight at me, no, at my wound, taking a step forward that broke the ground under him from the sheer force he put into it.

… Shit, I have to up my estimation of his Brute strength.

"You dare strike my Foe?" His voice never rose above his normal volume. If anything, he was quieter than usual. "The only one to give me a challenge?" Rising to my feet, I stumbled a step back as Death gathered in my hand for what was to come. "Insignificant Gnat." He then summarily punted the orc back into the din of battle below. He took another cratering step and he turned to me. I fought against freezing in place at the sight of his normally jovial visage twisted into anger before it morphed back to his usual expression and the air dissipated.

"Forgive me, Wraith, for allowing this Gnat to make you bleed before I did." I blinked in surprise at his sincerely remorseful words, before shaking my head and keeping silent as he continued. "Let us continue our duel without the interference of that Gnat! I will by my hand alone that I will have your skull by the end of this day!" And there it was again, that single-minded drive to carve me to pieces. It could be worse, I had to admit.

The problem was… how could I actually beat Sigvaldr?

My mind raced again as Sigvaldr took a step forward, grinning madly as one of his swords reared back as if he was going to throw the thing at me, again. My Death spells were practically useless, Sigvaldr was too fast, and unless I threw everything into it, he would just barge through it like a Brute through a wall of cardboard. Cosmic was as well just as useless, seeing as the only spell I knew of were ones with too much windup…

I hadn't too many options, not with him bearing down at me with a demented grin and joyful glare. I had no staff anymore, Iwas leaking Death profusely still causing a significant drain, and none of my spells could scratch him. There was only one very stupid, possibly destructive thing that crossed my mind as I threw out everything that didn't work, and with it being the only thing with a chance of beating him, I prepared to do it, regardless of what could happen to me.

I was dead if I didn't do it, so no point in not trying the possibly suicidal attempt at killing him.

My ethereal arm began to sparkle with star points as I dodged out of the way of the flying sword intent on cleaving me in half.

Cosmic magic was the Sun, the Moon, the stars, t̢̡́͟h̨̨é̵̷́͞ ̸҉̀́͝V̷̧͘͢͠ò̵̕͡͡i̡͜͝͞d̶̶, and other phenomena.

The Kvaldir Champion bellowed a laugh as he rushed forward, remaining sword high in the air and ready to cleave as I calmly waited for him. I had only one chance.

Death magic was the End of Life, and it was Entropy itself.

He leaped into the air, ready to end this battle with one titanic blow.

A glare of raw Cosmic energy built in front of my arm as I reached forward towards Sigvaldr.

The ball or energy grew in size as rapidly as my reserves of magic drained from me, growing brighter and brighter. All who saw it would only describe it as if they were witnessing the birth of a new star.

He wouldn't be able to dodge this. Nor could I.

As the last scraps of energy fed into the newborn Sun, its size now larger than me - the surrounding stone melting under its emanations, I pulled on what little reserve I had left. The Death in my bones.

All I could think of, all I could focus on now, was what happens when a star… Dies.

The Death flowed out of me, winding up my arm in a serpentine fashion before it too was sucked up by the greedy star.

The two magics melded together.

The ball contracted.

The glow became something beyond blinding.

The sword bi-

PAIN

It was expected, given my Partner's course of action, that she was disabled in the aftermath of her 'spell'. I expected the raw data input would be a bit much for her. Current data suggests her [Self] or 'soul' as the biped named it l was spasming in [PAIN] from the 'spell' she had wrought, which was deserved. If not for me, she would have lost everything then and there.

But… As I turned calculated observation to the results...

Indeed, it was effective - if crude - given it blasted the different 'unliving' straight off the cliff and outright atomizing everything else. Still, considering that my Partner's physical interface was now a fascinating mass of energy, I had the right to admonish her when she was finished processing the new input data. Now though, with her busy for the foreseeable future, I had to pause my own calculations and take charge.

It was similar to the mess with Shaper and Broadcast three Cycles ago, and I still wasn't even sure how they had managed to send half of the Shards into standby.

First, I had to fix and re-solidify the body, or else nothing would get done. Simple enough, given it was similar in process to fixing one of those other constructs she kept around. Granted, I had to fabricate entirely new flesh and skeletal structure to serve as the base for her body since Partner had foolishly incinerated her entire body so thoroughly that there wasn't even ashes, but according to my calculations a magical facsimile would not be difficult

It wasn't like the body was even 'living' as Partner would have defined it in the first place. Merely solidified energy shaped into a simulacrum of life via symbolism and used to house my Partner and myself.

Fascinating concept, enforcement of desire upon reality via symbolism to make the world accept the changes you want. Many possibilities could bud from this, and I was eager to get back to it.

Taking that energy and molding it was bud's play, as it seemed ready to accept the Order I wanted to impose upon it. And quickly, a body started to form under my ministrations. However, it was straining my tenuous connection to that reality, an annoyance that we needed to rectify as soon as a method was available to us. Especially if this high-stress testing was to become a recurring pattern for future events.

False flesh modelled after her old body flowed together, first the chest, then the legs. Arms came next, finally her head, and like that, my Partner's form came into being. Aside from one specific part. I forced the body's head to look at the still missing forearm, and I raised an eyebrow at its lack of existence. I had assumed that the lack of an arm was just a lack of my Partner fixing it, but I was wrong for once. [Order] was actively rejecting my attempts at creating the component, similar in manner to other additions I had tried to append to Partner's body during creation. Fascinating.

"WRAITH! OUR DUEL IS NOT YET OVER!"

He still lived? Maybe Partner's allusion to the defense platforms had some inkling of truth. One doesn't merely walk away from being hit by a Supernova, minuscule as that one may have been.

Our new body moved smoothly, puppeted expertly by me, regally stepping to the cliff edge and letting her, and by extension myself, be seen by the unliving champion, and allowing me to properly observe him in turn. Compared to the first time, there was progress to actually damaging the creature. His left arm was completely gone, and the remainder of his left side was molten yet somehow still intact despite it. His armor, what was left of it, seemed to have fused into his 'skin', his skull helmet was gone, and his one sword was shattered once more.

I didn't look away from him, despite everything else going on below, he was the main threat to us both and given what he had consistently shown, anything less than our full attention at any given time was a mistake. Another of his kind sprinted up to him as the Champion took a step forward, only to be cut in half with a single stroke of that stunted sword. An air settled on the beach in the wake of that scene, foreboding and heavy as it seemed to trigger a reaction in all the mortals.

There were words said, too far away to be distinguishable and who exactly spoke them was lost in the sea of bodies and corpses, but the result of it, I saw and heard as the Champion looked back up at me, a smile reforming on his face after the incident. "WRAITH! ONCE MORE YOU HAVE BROKEN MY SWORD. WE SHALL HAVE OUR DUEL ANOTHER TIME!" I said nothing in response, staring passively as the Champion took his broken blade and rammed it through his chest, similar to the first time we had met him. Vaporizing once more mass non-equivalent seawater and sea plants

And with that, the main threat was gone. Now, there was cleaning up the mess that my Partner had gotten herself into.

The 'Kvaldir', as Partner named them, quickly withdrew in the wake of their Champion's 'demise', either perishing on the beach or sailing off on their seacraft, leaving only the normal 'unliving' and the 'Horde' around. And the latter were beginning to fall back as well, clearly judging that further conflict at the time was producing diminishing returns and slowly retreated to their boats to avoid getting swarmed in the mass of unliving. That however, was not what I needed to clean up, the 'Death Knight' and the other base constructs were capable enough to finish this.

No, it was fools behind me, that my Partner had antagonized and been antagonized by since arriving in this land.

"Arrogant of you to flee to me, Wraith. I admit, your display of magic prowess was beyond what I ever imagined to come of your kind." I didn't bother turning to look at the insignificant unliving. It wasn't worthy of my attention like the Champion or my Partner. "That said, you must be exhausted. Running from your failure at the Alliance beaching and unleashing that kind of magic must be terribly draining, for you. Then you go and remake your body from scratch without even a ritual? Are you trying to show off? You bluster will not work on me." He hummed. How strange, he was oddly misconstruing events and making illogical claims. "I still recall your words before you left. Something about 'settling this when we were finished'. Hrm?"

Still, I didn't react, outward displays of interaction have clearly failed to translate properly. Instead, my thoughts were content enough to comb through the data of my Partner's 'spell', alongside the knowledge that it was possible to combine different types of 'magic'. Certainly, it was more exciting than dealing with the thing behind my Partner's body, though given the growing impatience I was hearing, it didn't agree. "Are you just going to stand there, or are we going to settle this Lady Wraith? But, by all means, just stand there!"

Something smashed through my Partner's body, rupturing through the false flesh and out the front. I had to raise an eye at the lingering traces of the 'magic', it wasn't like the rest I had the pleasure of witnessing, more akin to the concept of force being turned into a projectile than the 'benevolent Light', the control and contract of element-based lifeforms, and such. The prospect of more data interested me greatly.

The fact that a non-Host had created it interested me all the more. While a pathetic showing, it implied that there were others,more creativer and intelligent that data could be derived from..

Turning my Partner's body to face it, I let my boredom be expressed through the puppetted body, tilting my head just so with a frown and eyes barely opened. It matched what Partner had previously defined. It certainly infuriated it, given the clenched hands and utterly furious expression it had, it reminded me of the powerless, arrogant fools that my Partner had dealt with through her time with me. And Broadcast. Mostly Broadcast. Deliberately I kept my Partner's body still as I fixed the hole letting out the energy making us up, keeping up my 'deadpan' stare at the unliving and resisting the urge to just ignore it again.

I learned much from Partner, and Broadcast, and chose my words carefully. "Query: Was that supposed to do something?"

My Partner's voice carried my words to it, having the desired effect as yellow-white energy gathered in its hands. "I was simply going to kill you. But, I think I'll turn you into one of your namesakes, Wraith. I refuse to be upstaged by one of your kind!" The delusional state the creature had entered was baffling. Whatever faulty data gathering it had performed gave it objectively false results, as it was comparing itself to us. Perhaps displaying new data would resolve the logic errors it was outputting..

Before anything else could occur, I pointed my partner's defunct arm at one of the unliving directly next to the arrogant one, a chain piercing through the air and directly into its chest. The chains coiled and writhed with a 'life' of their own until they pulled taut, and the fabricated hand of [Entropy] clutched the chain and pulled. A 'spectral' image of the unliving was wrenched out of its body, wrapped in chains and utterly helpless as it landed in my Partner's 'hand'. It made a sound like a scream and wail mixed together as I broke it, tore it apart, and consumed it as the Harvester had done days ago.

Fascinating. It was strange, I had to admit.

I wasn't expecting a 'taste' from the 'soul', and so was caught off-guard when something flooded my inputs. It didn't 'taste' in the way that my Partner's memories of actual food and drink tasted, being more… conceptual than physical. It tasted of [Death]… yet diluted somehow, more like a decaying corpse than a skeleton. There were other 'tastes' to it, but the rest were so minor that beyond noticing them, I couldn't make out what they were aside from an inkling of [Arrogance].

But…

A smile grew on my Partner's face as revelry grew in my being. A sound flitted through the air in the wake of my meal, and it took me a moment to realize it was my Partner's body responding to my mood. The unliving didn't particularly look too well after my display, shuffling and backing away, aside from the one that kept speaking. "Mmm…"

What I had done had awoken something in me. Old directives, mixed with new inputs. I knew what I felt.

I felt...

Chains clinked together, more of the soft sound escaping from my Partner's body as I forced it to take a step forward.

"I'm… Hungry…"

That… Hurt… So fucking much.

[Chastisement] [Amusement] [Interest]

Wha- You- Oh f-

My thoughts died as quickly as I processed my Partner's message. It was then I noticed that I was standing amidst a pile of corpses that I was sure I wasn't here when I blacked out. There was also a distinct lack of Sigvaldr and his shouting, which said enough that something occurred while I was apparently unconscious, and given my Partner's state… I had a feeling she was the cause of it.

[Satisfaction. Desire. Glee.]

I, huh. You… Yeah, she was the cause… and something was wrong with her. Our connection was also now far stronger. I elected to ignore that and focus on more important things at the moment. Like clothes. Thankfully there were a bunch of fresh corpses with no need for clothing anymore with them dead.

Was it wrong to pick their corpses clean for a piece of clothing? Probably, but they were dead, I wasn't, and they had tried to kill me while I was unconscious, sort of… and until Partner was done being high I don't think I was going to get a more precise explanation. And like hell I was going to walk around without clothing, even if it was this even more villainous-looking cloth than my last outfit since the plate armor was out of the question for somehow being an even worse offender in that regard.

Finding an outfit that was my size wasn't as difficult as I feared. It was actually rather easy and within a minute or so I was dressed and presentable. It wasn't my first choice, but I'd stick with it considering I had little to no other options, even back at the Harbor. That and dressing like some stereotyped Fantasy Crusade Priest rubbed me a weird way.

My new outfit was… well, it felt more like finery than what I was used to. Its black cloth felt soft to the touch, and the bronze-like filigree of intricate designs and sections across its surface were polished to a dull shine. The gems embedded in said finery were dull and lifeless, nearly grey chunks of crystal save for the bare hint of red denoting them as rubies. Unlike with my old clothing, the sleeves did not go all the way to my hands, instead not even reaching my elbow, while my forearm were covered in… something that tried to be a glove and failed.

And the green flames that had ignited rising from my new shoulder pads? Those were quickly going to get old, but it wasn't like I had any other choice when confronted with a slightly armored piece of clothing. I wasn't not going to go with a little bit more protection, even as gaudy as this was. Besides, it was obviously magical. Which was rather cool.

"Seems like ya had some fun, Wraith. Ya just couldn't wait for ol' Tzo'zi to get here to help hack dat coward into pieces?"

I turned around to look Tzo'zi straight in the eyes before quickly shifting to just look at him in general. His armor was practically repainted red with the amount of blood on him and was continually dripping on the ground, his axe was in no better condition, and I was quite glad that the sight didn't take much to disregard. The only things that actually caught my eye aside from the copious amount of blood was his near-beaming air around himself as if had just won the lottery or something, and the brown hand clutched in his own left hand.

Taking a moment to gather myself and hopefully not tip-off that I had no idea what happened, I calmly spoke to the Death Knight. "My apologies Tzo'zi, but you were… occupied, and I wasn't given the choice to come get you." He grunted in acknowledgment before turning his head to the hand clutched in his grip, giving off a small chuckle before returning his attention back to me.

"No problem boss lady. Tzo'zi had fun putting a Traitorous swine in his place, and ya seem ta have had it handled." Hefting the bloody axe onto his shoulder, Tzo'zi stretched with a satisfied sound before continuing. "Me bruddas and sistas are finishin' up down below. Afta that… we be followin' ya boss lady whereva."

I blinked at the statement before realizing the severity of what he just said. I had a group of Death Knights under my command now. Well… more like they were going to follow my directions for as long as I gave them what they wanted, or until I got powerful enough to actually be able to force them to obey. The latter wasn't going to happen any time soon, so I was stuck appeasing a group of bloodthirsty, inhuman warriors for as long as possible to ensure I kept them under my command. And want them under my command I did, they were clearly a valuable resource and not one to let go of easily.

Any progress on that front could wait until I understood more of the world around me. Just having them with me was enough for the moment.

"We'll be heading back to Onslaught Harbor once your brethren are finished. I have no wish to stay here any longer than necessary." This entire experience was largely just a waste of time, sure I'd learned how to utilize a bit of Cosmic magic, and gained Tzo'zi and his knights, but on the whole, this entire trip was an annoyance and worth absolutely nothing to me. So many other things I could have been doing… and I was stuck here. But there was something… clearer about my thoughts now, so I could add that to the silver linings.

"Whateva ya say boss lady. This be ya land though now that ya killed da coward responsible for it." … Oh fuck that. Like hell I was getting another place to manage, I already had one place and another two that were being built… which, I sighed, I'd need to check on whenever I finished settling in.

A fourth, the size of this territory? Forget it. "I have enough territory to take care of, give it to the former Prince's second in command." There was a pause, before Tzo'zi looked at the corpses surrounding us, and I got the distinct feeling that I had said something stupid given the response. "Just… just give it to the next in line that's still functioning."

That garnered a slow nod as Tzo'zi continued to look at the mass of corpses around me, seemingly trying to figure something out before looking back at me. "I'll find da Lich and be back. Me bruddas and sistas should be done by dat point." And with that said, Tzo'zi walked off, clasping the axe to his back, somehow, and beginning to mess with the severed hand as he walked down the cliff.

Which left me alone again… well, as alone as I could be with my Guards slowly making their way back to me. They had taken a beating from Sigvaldr, a given really, but the sheer resilience was astounding that they were still able to move, and their armor wasn't obliterated in the fight, granted they were dented and rent in some areas. I honestly was wanting a set of this armor for myself when I could get the chance, but given my own supposed role, it was better to just outfit my soldiers with it instead.

As I could apparently tank a miniaturized Supernova, what armor I was wearing would likely be unable to keep up with my own endurance.

It'd be nice to have, especially if it could shrug off damage from Sigvaldr, to a degree, maybe in the future. For now to try and figure out how to perform that 'Gate' spell. There was clear symbolism and restrictions tied into it.

Sometime after that and multiple musings on what to do, Tzo'zi came back with his knights in tow, all of them in a similar position of being caked in blood and having an air of satisfaction about them. I didn't rightly care too much at this point, seeing as I thought I understood how to do the 'Death Gate' spell.

The concept was similar to several mover powers that I had utilized, you take your starting point and you get an end position, power bullshit occurs and there's a way between the two that you can take. And like that, you have teleportation like Doormaker and others. The problem for me specifically was figuring out what was used to connect the two, as unlike with powers, I had to use an energy 'manually' or figure out what the pattern was so that my Partner could do so.

Even with going through one recently, the way that Death was used wasn't something that I was familiar with, and while I could try with my own, it had the possibility of going wrong. Claws, hook, chains dragging me down, holding me. That said, I wasn't about to ask Tzo'zi for help on the subject, I just had the feeling that he and his knights didn't understand it beyond 'I can do it', and that wasn't helpful. So I was going to have to wing it and hope that something didn't go wrong.

Hopefully Partner would be in a decent eno-

[Disorientation]

… What?

…

…

Okay, ignore the possibly drunk crystalline-superstructure turned conceptual soul and move on to the actually dealable things. Like getting back to the Harbor and all the actually important things I needed to do. And for that, I needed to pray and hope that something didn't go wrong with my spell.

Gathering Death into my hands like usual, I started envisioning the Harbor in my mind, a desolate rock filled with the dead, and of a pathway connecting the here and there, Death has no End, it has no Beginning. The memory of going through the 'Gate' with the 1st Legion came to mind, and I attempted to use that to 'reinforce' the image in my head, a hole in reality where space and time hold little sway, in blind hope that it would make my attempt work. After what I felt was an appropriate time, I cast the spell, and felt relief as an enlarged version of the 'Gate' appeared in front of me, compared to the one I had taken… yesterday?

Regardless of when, it looked the exact same, from the shadowy mist emanating from the 'Gate', to the skull leering down at those entering it. So, it was a resounding success in my eyes. The issue was simply ensuring it's other side was where I needed it to be.

With a mental prod, one of my battered Guards rose to the occasion and marched without hesitation through the Gate. I waited a few seconds, watching to see if the Gate destabilized and nodding promptly when it kept its shape and wasn't about to explode for some reason or another. The rest of my Guards were ushered through, because unfortunately, the Gate was one way only at the moment as far as I was aware, which would be something I needed to address later. Shortly after they disappeared Tzo'zi's Knights went through, chuckling to themselves as they went, and following after them Tzo'zi himself, the severed hand dangling on a chain from his waist.

And with no one else to wait on, I turned to my Undead army. It would be a waste to let them loose… I ordered them back to En'kilah loaded with the corpses and supplies left on the beach. It could be an apology to the Lich for leaving him like this, and I could always return later for the troops if I needed them.

With that set into motion, I turned to the Death Gate and went home.

The trip was less cold than my first foray, but instead of the feeling of being tugged, It felt like I was being watched from every direction in the dark corridor I stepped through. As much as the idea of teleportation would help me manage my three territories in the long-term, if this was going to be the norm, then I sure as hell was going to find another option.

Thankfully it was over quickly, and with another round of relief filling me, I stepped out into the frigid air of my Harbor… looking directly at a well-made wooden ship that shouldn't be here. I recalled saying for them to build a ship to get between here and the halfway point, but something of this size and make, in less than a week… ish?

There was magic yes, but I doubted highly that it could make a ship like that in a week, if anything, it would look more like a living, natural thing given the Dryads and their own magic. So… why was this here?

I sent the guards I had taken with me away for respite and repair, calling together others nearby to accompany me as I strode forward. I didn't know where Tzo'zi and his Knights went, which was cause for concern immediately after this was dealt with, but I was semi-glad that they weren't immediately moving towards the ship and fucking around with it. I didn't need another headache directly after I had just alleviated one…

As I approached, I noticed a few details telling me who this was. The first was obvious, the white sails with a red, messed up 'L' symbol proudly in the middle told me this was a Scarlet Onslaught group, which meant the rest would know about what had happened here should they return… or if they didn't make it back. I was fucked either way in this scenario, so I had to figure out on the fly, what option was going to be the best for me.

Second among the details… was the lack of personnel on the ship. Granted, there could be far more, and likely were, inside the ship, but with them docked with a plank lowered to the, still ruined, piers… Why weren't there more sailors or soldiers milling about above deck?

Last and most important… there was a human walking down said plank, flanked by what looked like clergymen… Dressed in plate, he made for a striking difference to the much more… 'humble' looking priests and priestesses, his features clear on display as he wore a content smile walking down. Like this wasn't a Harbor overrun with Undead, and they were just here to check up on the place.

Or that it didn't matter.

I wisely dismissed that paranoia spiral before continuing forward, the armored figure turning his attention to me, raising a hand in greeting, and calling out in the language I still didn't know as he smiled warmly. The smile dipped shortly as I didn't respond, and kept walking forward until we were mere feet apart, my guards at the ready to cut them down for any funny business they tried. His expression shifted from confusion to contemplation, before he started... clearing his throat for some reason?

"A… A... Ata... Do…"

My eyebrow slowly went up as I understood the syllables coming from his mouth. If I didn't have better control of myself, I probably would have displayed my shock at hearing a 'normal human' speak something that I could hear and understand. As it was, after a few more things of him working his voice, the man put his full attention back to me, and I had to stop the overwhelming urge to not react and send my guards to gut him.

His gaze felt a lot like Jack's.

"My apologies, My Lady, it has been many years since I have had to use this tongue, I had assumed you knew Common, but that is my mistake." So the primary language was called… 'Common'. Talk about originality. That said… I only spoke to Undead, and it was a rare living necromancer that could speak what I dubbed 'the Language of the Dead'. So how did this, presumably, holy priest, leading an order who wants to purge them and any trace of their existence...? "Perhaps we may retire to somewhere more… comfortable, Lady...?

"Wraith."

I could figure out what this guy was playing at later, for now I had to be cordial apparently since this wasn't just devolving into a straight brawl. And I didn't know if that was a good or bad thing in this instance. He gave a nod and kept his smile up, as the clergy all gave bows… this was weird. "Pardon me, Lady Wraith, where are my manners? My name is Barean Westwind, Grand Admiral of the Scarlet Crusade, and Lord of the Scarlet Onslaught."

… Fuck.

He smiled, but behind those eyes, I could tell there was something wrong, more like Jack than I thought. Turning on my heel with a flutter of cloth, I began walking away with my guards in step, stopping only to look behind me at Admiral Westwind, getting the glimpse of his semi-shocked visage before it schooled itself back to the, rather arrogant now that I thought about it, smile.

Cold rain and hail were miserable, regardless of the fact that it didn't bother me anymore. "Are you going to stand there all day Admiral? You were the one wishing to be out of this miserable weather."

An: On a completely unrelated note. Fuck Paladins.
Sneaky AN: Seconded, fuck paladins.

greysongarr · May 7, 2021

Sneaky AN: Interludes are short right? …. 8k words is short right?
Grey AN: … Yes?

[Off the coast of Transborea, Horde Fleet]

"You are lucky to be alive Hellscream."

'Lucky'? The old fool called this 'Lucky'? I gave a glare at him as he looked away, before returning to the stump of an arm I now carried shamefully.

Much of the battle was a blur in my mind, images blending together so easily that only the broad things remained. I recalled little of what caused the assault, just sand erupting into plumes in the early light and the beginnings of battle. Explosions hit the Demolishers, and by that point, I was running to kill some bug-creature trying to gut my men. Then the mist came in.

"I certainly don't feel lucky. I can never wield a weapon in my hand again BECAUSE IT IS MISSING!" The old fool had the nerve to look at me like I was still a pup, before resuming his survey over maps and papers that were useless with the failure. A warrior without both hands? I'd never wield axes in my hands ever again, let alone…

And the cursed rituals of the Shattered Hand were not something I would even consider. Warsong have pride, and scars were worn, when they were as debilitating as mine.

"Eitrigg and I know full well how rare it is to return from an encounter with a Death Knight with only a limb chopped off." He didn't even look at me, still too busy in his maps to remember Thrall gave me command over this expedition. "If you're finished brooding. We have matters to attend to because of your… Aggression."

I snorted. "We Warsong do not retreat until the enemy is crushed."

"You'd make a poor Warsong then if you take those teachings so literally." Rage came quick, and the next thing I knew I was against the wall, chokeslammed with the Old Warrior staring me straight in the face, eyes hard. "Your Father laid those tenets. And you understand none of them."

"Says the Blackrock." I spit the clan's name as it justly deserved to be as I struggled against his grip.

He let me drop, and I caught myself against the wall before I could fall into a heap on the floor. I refused to show such weakness, Warsong had pride, and disgracing myself like I was some weak runt was not an option. "I worked with your Father many times since the days of the Old Horde. I was the 'Emissary' of Blackhand, and later Doomhammer."

I stayed silent.

"Warsong do not retreat." The first rule of the Warsong Clan, when Fa- when the Chieftain began his rampage against the Ogres. "Grommash knew better than to attack without knowing. He would never charge into a battle he couldn't win, even with his recklessness." That was only right. Warriors were not thrown into a grinder when they'd be better off living killing another foe.

"If he and his warriors were caught in a battle they were unprepared for, they would withdraw."

That went against the Clan's Way! To withdraw was to retreat, to retreat was to withdraw! A growl echoed as I stewed, knowing what would happen if I tried anything again.

"I know exactly what you think. 'Withdrawing is retreating!'. You would be incorrect." I snorted in contempt and moved to the other side of the dimly lit table. "That was not a battle he initiated, so he did not continue it." I stared, scrunching my face and trying to make sense of it… and couldn't wrap my mind around it. He sighed.

"The fourth of the Warsong's Ways. 'We leave only when we are done.' When your battle is not about killing all of your enemies, what is 'done'?"

"Spare me the lecture old one." The frown I received was severe, but I ignored it and my stewing rage for a more important matter. "How many are there left?"

He was silent for a moment, before picking up a report. "... Ten ships, fully loaded with our forces, and barely any supplies left." I clenched my hand, and barely refrained from slamming it against the table. We didn't have supplies to waste. Not now.

What few ships were still afloat and running were not in the best shape, nor good on room, and the moment we were done the wounded would be brought in. It'd be a miracle if a quarter of the Expedition linked up with Drannosh and that arrogant Overlord. My first time as a leader… and it was a disgraceful failure!

"You were not at fault Garrosh."

My head snapped up at the Old Warrior's words, cleaning up the reports and extinguishing the candles as he prepared to leave. This time I did slam my fist against the table as I shouted, "How could it not be? Am I not supposed to lead the Horde to Glory? Traitors were in our ranks and I did not find them!"

"They knew where we were landing. They waited for the exact moment we let our guard down. They took out the only weapons that let us have any ability to hold them. And the Mist-callers were something no-one could predict." Was his calm rebuttal. "And rare is the day where even the most competent General can find a traitor before they act. Your mistake was to charge headlong into it all."

He turned and began walking away. "Come. We have spent long enough here."

I remained silent, a scowl darkening my face that the old man ignored as I followed after him. Turning my head to the grunt leaning against the wall, I jerked my head to the door and followed after my 'advisor', we weren't done speaking. "What would you... suggest as our next course." As much as it hurt my pride as Warsong to say, I was inexperienced, the most I had led back on Draenor was a few hunting parties, and only those who were close friends joined with me. Drannosh was the one who led before me. But still, simple undead shouldn't have been able to stop me.

The Old Warrior hummed, thinking as we headed up the stairs to the upper deck and into the freezing air. "My advice would be to regroup with Overlord Angmar, and then fortify our position to secure a supply route back to Orgrimmar." A low growl rumbled in my throat as I nodded my head, not that the old man would know. "After that… well, then we can turn our attention to finding your lost 'honor'."

I couldn't help but remember the two at the top of the cliffs, I had a feeling the challenge ahead of me would be greater than either of us could imagine. "There were two creatures on the cliff. A Mist-caller Champion cutting men in half without effort and a Necromancer that was keeping pace with him." The old orc hummed loud enough for me to hear, his thoughts a mystery to me.

"I saw the end of their 'duel'. Everyone on the beach saw it."

I grunted in response, not much else could be said I never got to see what sort of twisted sorcery she used as the Champion had punted me like I was some whelp. Directly into the path of that Death Knight. "I don't care how strong they are. They will die."

The old Warrior merely sighed, leaning against the metal railing and peering off into the distance.

Eventually, he looked back at me, straightening himself from his slouch as he uttered the declaration of our people. "For the Horde."

"For the Horde." I saluted then went off on my own, leaving the old man to his old thoughts and taking care not to disrupt any of the soldiers left on deck.

It was a promise as much as a declaration or battlecry. We lived for the ones back home, we fought the dark forces so that our people could go to sleep each night safe. If need be, our own lives would be used to stop whatever came. Those were the words that Thrall told me as we left from Draenor. I had no one but Dranosh when we left, now I have a city, a people, a home.

And no matter what Evil came at me in this cursed land, I would strike it down. My gaze lingered to my severed stump, and my other hand clenched in rage at the sight. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow. But my enemies would fall, my pride satisfied, and my people safe.

I would prove myself worthy of my Father's Legacy. And in doing so, ensure the Horde would prosper.

[Onslaught Harbor]

Dis place… be shit.

De weatha be terrible, rain an' hail makin' it a pain to see. Den Wraith's soljas be given' Tzo'zi's bruddas and sistas dem looks, and dat be makin' Tzo'zi's anger flare. An' ta top it off, dere be someting bout Wraith that be… off.

Someting… that reminded Tzo'zi of de King.

Whateva it was though, didn't matter much to Tzo'zi. Wraith could be one of de Old Tings in de tablets, and Tzo'zi would still follow her 'round. In a way, Wraith reminded Tzo'zi of more… satisfyin' times with Brudda. She be ruthless, she be strong, she knew how ta use every ting unda her to da best. An' that be before de fun Wraith left for Tzo'zi. Two tings for the Collection, and more ta follow if Tzo'zi's gut was right.

De problem right now be, findin' a spot for de Corrupted Blood.

We be Trolls first, an' Death Knights second, we needed space away from de rest of Wraith's souljas for de rituals and rings ta control da Lust. Da otha Death Knights dat Tzo'zi been with before be prone to da Lust, it made dem weak and fight among demselves. Tzo'zi still remember de old ways Brudda taught.

Tzo'zi took a long, long time to find de propa place for de Order. De abandoned city didn't serve well, da mojo and loa wouldn't come in such narrow and lifeless places. De otha island though… dat place worked, it reeked of abominable, wretched magicks, but dat was easy ta fix. A few corpses, some fetishes, an' a good ol' shrine ta Bwonsamdi would deal with it, an' den it'd be a good place ta work an' duel.

Bwonsamdi be a good partna ta be with. De othas abandoned us when Zul'Aman fell, Bwonsamdi was willin' ta make deals ta each of us left when we went ta da King, unlike de pride-filled Loa of de Forest. De deals be simple, we worship Bwonsamdi, our kills go ta Bwonsamdi, we go to Bwonsamdi. In return we got Power, not enough ta challenge de King, or any of de Liches, but enough ta putta lil' umpf in our mojo.

De only problem be gettin' the materials for de Shrine. De rest be easy to get, but de Shrine? Dat needed special stone, special wood, not easy ta get in dis land. Pride be worthless ta Berserkers, Death Knights were prone ta it, but a Berserker's sole purpose is ta kill and kill. Tzo'zi be havin' a chat with Wraith when she be done meetin' with dat Demon. De smell of souls and pain be strong on dat one, and de body…

Tzo'zi be reminded of dem… whateva de bat-men be called. They not be worth Tzo'zi's time to rememba. Wraith herself though, she be interestin'.

Falric, de Boss of da Death Knights on dis side o' Northrend, he liked Wraith's abilities enough ta put Tzo'zi and de Corrupted Blood with her. Hehe. Tzo'zi understood why. She be like Brudda in a way, schemes in place and de powa ta make dem schemes work. 'Cept… she be even stronga den Brudda, from de magic Wraith used, to de way she carried herself. Not like da othas undastood yet. When de ring be made, Tzo'zi be teaching little Tehzeth again. She didn't like Tzo'zi's decision, and needed ta be reminded why To'zi was de Leada of de Corrupted Blood, and not some Gurubashi fanatic still obsessed wit Hakkar.

Wraith be worthy of Tzo'zi's strength for now, even with her being a Lich like dat. Though de matter of what she be and how she became dat was something Tzo'zi didn't know. Tzo'zi thought ya needed all dem facy rituals and whatnot….but Wraith, she just up an did it like it was nothing.

Wraith be hidin' a past, but dat not be Tzo'zi's business. So long as Wraith gave Tzo'zi killin', butchery and tings to collect ta honor Bwonsamdi, Tzo'zi be content. Tzo'zi had a feelin' 'bout her, and Tzo'zi's feelin's neva been wrong before, even if Tzo'zi wish othawise.

Destiny playin' with Tzo'zi again, and Tzo'zi know Tzo'zi's destiny.

[Castle Town of Wintergarde]

The marshaling bells ringing was not a new occurrence in Wintergarde, what this specific bell marshaled for however was something that we weren't expecting.

Reinforcements… or rather, the battered remnants of Arlos' fleet.

What exactly happened, I didn't and wouldn't know until I met with Arlos, or whoever was in charge. "OPEN THE GATES!" My order was carried to the gatehouse from my spot on the southernmost tower by the men watching the walls. It would take me a while to make it to the gate, but given the pace of those men and women, I had no doubt that I'd be there just in time for the first one to pass through the gates into, relative, safety.

The Scourge were busy with something further to the west, with what my scouts couldn't tell me, but my gut told me it was something big, especially with him in charge. And from what little information managed to get sent our way from Valgarde, their landing went well and fortifications were being erected. Everything west of Wintergarde was a dead zone for information, and I wasn't risking any scouts, no matter how good they were to investigate it. Not until we were secured and had the second wave with us.

But even I didn't need scouts to see the increasing number of Necropli in the sky.

Legionaries of the 7th stood at the ready by the gate as I approached, ready for whatever Arlos' men needed aid with, whether it be food or medical attention. By the Light's grace, it wasn't as bad as I feared, there were some wounded, but for the majority they were simply wearing an aura of despair and defeat around them. I could leave that issue to my troops and the citizens of Wintergarde, as the Commander, I was forced to partake in other matters than helping my fellow soldiers.

There was one who didn't share any issue with Arlos' men, and it came as no surprise given the aura of cold radiating off him.

I had met him only once before when the Ebon Blade sent a few Knights to… parlay with King Wrynn. Given what he was, it was hardly surprising that I kept away from him. I had not lost any family to the Scourge, not when the First War left me burying my daughters and wife, and for that I had some small comfort, but such an unholy abomination was anathema to the Light and all it touched. Still, I kept myself cordial, which was better than the foolish Scarlet mission.

His was the only name introduced, though few even knew his name, in fact, I had no knowledge of anything this man had done. Thassarian. No family name. An enigma that made me wary, but one that I could put aside my distaste for and work with for Justice and the Alliance.

Walking straight towards the man, Thassarian barely paused before looking me straight in the eye, a suppressed shudder nearly showing at the dead glowing eyes. No matter how hardened and pious one was, seeing those eyes sent a chill down one's spine. "Death Knight." He barely reacted, nonchalant and, dare I say, rather bored as he continued staring at me, waiting for me to continue. "Walk with me."

The… man, shrugged his shoulders before falling in step as I turned and began walking back to the Keep, there were scout reports from further west across the tundra I needed to look over, especially with the lack of Scourge lately. Once we were far enough away from the troops, I started asking my questions. "Arlos?"

"Dead, alongside most of the senior Command for the ground. Highest rank left is a Second Lieutenant." Just as devoid of emotion, Thassarian's cold voice sent as much of a chill as his eyes did, but I shouldered through. "I'm the only one that got off the beach, and that's because Arlos sent me to give the retreat order."

I took his word, not because I trusted him, but because he was part of the Ebon Blade, and Lord Fordring vouched for their trustworthiness and their grudge against the Lich King. That left me in a position where Arlos' 3rd Legion was essentially leaderless until someone from Stormwind or Ironforge arrived to take command, which could take weeks, if not a month.

At this point, someone ignorant of how the Legions worked would say for me to just 'absorb' the remnants of the 3rd into the 7th. That route would not work, especially with the 7th.

The 7th were the special forces, beaten only by the old 1st Legion of Lordaeron and Trollbane's Honor Hold regiment, the 3rd were defensive specialists rumored to make entire forts in only a few days. Our forces were incompatible, not just in the tactics but in mindset and personality. It was normally a strength but in this instance nothing more than a liability.

And it only further stated how bad the situation had been that Arlos ordered a retreat. The man and his men were as stubborn as a Dwarf missing his ale.

"A shame." That was all that could be said. Was it a tragedy that Arlos, great and noble paladin as he was, had fallen. Of course, but all who came North, and all who would come North, knew Evil lies here, and the dangers that roamed free and terrible. It could have easily been myself and the 7th that had been killed, or the 8th further East. It was a small relief that so many managed to escape the death trap, but it didn't change the fact that death was close at hand with each moment. "What did you face there?

Silence was my answer, and I had to look over at the Death Knight to make sure he hadn't just stopped, as some of my aides and advisors had a habit of doing. But no, Thassarian was keeping pace by my side, not even looking the least bit in thought, which I attributed more to his condition than anything else.

"A Necromancer that I have not seen or heard of before, an extremely powerful one. Blew up seven ships with a single spell." His eventual answer made the situation grim, an unknown Necromancer with that amount of power wasn't something that could be dealt with by the common man, or even the 7th. It was something for the Adventurers, the Ebon Blade, or the Argent Crusade. "And while I have no confirmation, she had one of the lesser orders with her."

'Lesser order'? I knew little of the ways of the Death Knights, and I planned to keep it that way, but this was something that caught my interest. Unfortunately, Thassarian continued before I could question him further. "Aside from them, the Necromancer had Undead Tauren with her. With access to their Shamanism." My frown deepened, that was not good news, but there wasn't much that we could do against such practices, or even understand how that was possible. Only a fraction of the Draenei practiced Shamanism, and they were the only ones in the Alliance with any knowledge of the art.

And the detachment from the Exodar was two weeks out when I last had communication with them.

I clicked my tongue but nodded gravely. There was little I could do but pass on the information to Lord Fordragon at Valgarde, who'd pass it on to the King. This would just go with the rest of the information compiled by the scouts and have a little more urgency than all but one thing in there. "Thank you for the report. I take it you are going to report to the High Lords of this development?"

He nodded briskly, stopping shortly after I did and turning to face the direction I pointed in. "The Mausoleum is that way, at the base of the cliff. Make haste." He nodded again, his expression not having changed once throughout our conversation, and walked down the path towards where the old nobles of Wintergarde laid. I watched him go, the natural revulsion slowly leaving me before I let out a breath and walked back to the keep. There were still reports to go over, and I needed to figure out what to do with Naxxramas and its forces, and the tower they were sieging.

There would be no sleep again tonight. There was simply too much to do, and Windstryke and Eligor both were busy with their own duties.

May the Light be with us.

[Onslaught Cathedral]

"I still don't understand 'The Light' Heinrich. You'd think after spending almost two decades with the Crusade we'd understand something about it."

I ignored Thessa, continuing the drills that Instructor Razuvious had taught me while keeping my mind honed on the task at hand. Thessa continued talking though, and like normal I lost myself in it. "It exists yeah. The Paladins and Priests wouldn't be doing their mumbo jumbo stuff without it. It just makes no sense." That was why we weren't Paladins.

The words stilled for a moment as my hammer sent the reinforced dummy flying in pieces, metal and wood clattering against the stone floor. I sighed, sheathing my mace and shield to begin the process of picking up the pieces… again. With the unwanted break in my training, I took a moment to respond to Thessa's… questioning. "The Light is the Light. All we need to know."

She hummed, before shrugging her shoulders, clearly disinterested now that I hadn't reciprocated. "I guess." From her spot atop one of the columns, she looked outside the window into the piss-poor weather, even for Icecrown. "What do you think about the Lady, Heinrich?"

I stopped in my tracks, just shy of the last piece as I mulled over the question. Lady Wraith was… different from the Scourge, strange considering she was aligned with them. It had been only a short while since she had taken control of the Harbor, but she'd already done far more in her short time than the prior Lord. On top of the fact that she wasn't working us to the bone, it left the impression that she was… 'benevolent' in a way.

She was still Scourge though, which hacked the image to pieces and burned it as Stratholme had.

Despite that, she didn't act like a proper Scourge, as far as I was aware anyway, having only dealt with Necromancers and the rare Lich. From what few instances I had seen before leading attacks on the Scourge prior to Tyr's Hand being lost, undead were largely menial labor regardless of their prowess, or just left to wander aimlessly until gathered in a horde. Lady Wraith didn't.

Or from what her Patron promised us.

In the end, she was just another superior, better in some ways and worse in others than the last one.

I didn't think much more on the subject after that, only entertaining the question because it was Thessa who initiated it. "She's a person. Better than having some arrogant Lich in charge." I felt more than saw the pout she gave me at that answer, used to it after so many conversations and I felt a small smile grow at the reaction before wiping it off before she could see it.

"I guess…" Finishing up cleaning, I slowly started to piece the dummy back together. A quiet sigh left my mouth as I undertook the task, wishing for one of those dummies that the Instructor had just so I could train without breaking my target. "How's the supply situation looking now that we got wood and stone coming in?"

Thessa's question had me stop again, only this time I actually had to give her my full attention. Ramblings and impressions weren't my job, nor something I was interested in so I had little to contribute. But this? This was important. "Coastal walls need a few more shipments of blocks, probably two full ones if I had to guess." I turned around and saw her nod in acknowledgment, waiting for me to continue.

"New buildings are getting constructed, and old ones replaced, with stone once we get excess. Probably another seventeen to twenty shipments based on how much is left over that we can use." The walls were ambitious, but Lady Wraith wanted us to make the Harbor into a Fortress, so we'd make the damn thing harder to take than Hearthglen. "Wood's being put to use making siege emplacements on the new walls. Outside that, ammo and weapons are getting made with the smaller planks."

"Quality?"

"Better stuff than Quel'thalassian in material. Don't know where Lady Wraith and you got this stuff, but it ain't breaking except from something heavy." She nodded her head, pleased with the report. She'd be reporting the rest to Lady Wraith when she got back, provided something else didn't come up or finished in the meantime.

"... Hey Heinrich, didn't the Junk's Might leave port this morning?" I raised an eye under my helmet, and looked back over at Thessa, setting aside the dummy for the moment. She was looking out the window, eyes confused at what she saw, and I turned further to see wha-

… That was the Sinner's Folly. Abbendis's flagship. Casually drifting into port.

Quickly understanding the importance of the ship, I turned to Thessa and spoke. "Abbendis or Westwind is here." Her eyes widened and quickly she donned her cowl and bandana again, hiding her face from the world again as she straightened and started moving to the door, quickly catching up with me.

"What is the plan? The Lady asked us to defend the Harbor and rebuild it, but if they came…"

I grunted as the insinuation took root. "Not much we can do about that now. Hopefully we can head off any altercations and send them back before the Lady returns." The walk to the Cathedral doors was short with our haste, and soon we were marching through the hail outside to the docks, ignoring the rest of the Onslaught continuing to work around us. "If we have to fight, we'll kill them and let the Lady raise them when she returns."

Thessa nodded in response before melding into the shadows and leaving me as I kept going, off to either prepare men or take advantage of her abilities. I had no doubts things would turn bloody the moment they docked fully, but there was little I could do to change anything outside of battle.

A surge of magic washed over me as I kept going, though I did not falter in the slightest compared to days long past in Lordaeron. My lips quirked up before settling back down as the Lady returned in time, regardless of whatever was on the ship, we would prevail, though the consequences would be far-reaching.

As I turned the final corner to the docks, Onslaught working continually I slowed my pace as the Lady faced the Grand Admiral on the pier, attended to by a few guards. Even from the distance, it was easy to pick him out, he simply had that aura about him as Abbendis did and the clergymen flanking him merely confirmed it. What confused me was the lack of aggression in either of them, as the Grand Admiral seemed content compared to the usual fiery rhetoric he was known for.

Strange. But it wasn't my duty to deduce people, I left that to Thessa long ago. Since I was here, I may as well continue directing the work on the walls, the Lady and her Patron had this well in hand no doubt.

[Naxxramas, Wyrmrest Temple Blockade]

It was rare, the days I was too distracted to think of furthering my research.

Today was not one of those days, as the taxing, laborious work of two days worth of tinkering, and many weeks of unexpected commandeered planning, were about to come to fruition.

Truthfully, I did not understand how the situation had descended into its current state. The dragons had always done understandably antagonistic actions against us: shambling patrols burned to the ground, reanimation efforts dismembered just on the cusp of the bones regaining their intellect. These things were nothing new, and an attempted direct strike against a Necropolis wasn't necessarily something - while certainly rare - unexpected.

That they acted when Kel'Thuzad was remaking Patchwerk, was understandable, but still foolish. That they succeeded? That was… unprecedented. There was a reason our Necropoli could move around with impunity after all...

And now, here we were, isolating Wyrmrest Temple, the point of power that even the Lich King had not chosen to assault… out of Spite. Kel'Thuzad - great, mighty, and detached as he was - was a prideful man at his core, and the level of spite he was capable of was something few understood. The man could have been my apprentice had he been born seven years later, alas, we would not have gotten along back then.

Antonias was correct when he told me I was too focused on my research back then.

"It is unlike you Gothik to watch something like this." I didn't turn to see Kel'Thuzad as he glided to my side, keeping my eyes on the looming tower, specifically one of the lower floors where a single hint of magic could be felt. "One would think your time with the Horsemen has been an influence upon you." I gave a chuckle at that, even if I didn't peel my eyes away.

"As if. They don't bother me beyond the extremes, and I don't bother them. This agreement lets me research in peace away from the rest." Kel'Thuzad knew this, I knew he knew this. But sometimes, it paid to remember the old days in Dalaran, when both of us were still Archmages discussing the Arcane. Little talks like this between 'equals' instead of Lord and humble Researcher. "What brings you to my humble balcony?"

He looked down at the battlefield far below us, where hordes of lesser Undead swarmed across the frostbitten dunes towards the tower. Most never made it, the Dragons swooping down and blasting them into pieces in some manner of magic. The Plagued whelps had done much in showing me just how a Dragon worked, but that was for another book to fill.

This siege would be won with attrition. For every two hundred fodder that broke, a Dragon fell from the sky and was swarmed or, if it was lucky, crawled to its brethren. And for each that was swarmed, another Frost Wyrm was added to the sky. Such was the nature of the Scourge.

But that was not the long game, merely a delaying tactic.

"I merely wish to see the fruits of an old friend's research. Is that not a good enough answer, Gothik?" I shrugged, not truly invested in the conversation to begin with. Then Kel'Thuzad decided to continue, and this time fixate on something worth talking about. "Your initiative with this... ploy is uncharacteristic of you."

I chuckled again, compared to before, something this absurd would never have crossed my mind, and truly it was only because of my Apprentice that the idea came to me. Her soul… there was so much information, too much, in it just from skimming the surface. Ideas, thoughts, and pure magic the likes I would never see again, except in her. To be able read a soul like that, it nearly screamed its deafening knowledge to those that could listen. But if prodded with the right questions...The one I copied was from a tale that could have been true. Something about a horse.

All because Kel'Thuzad decided to create a Lich from an old soul. "Wraith has given me much inspiration. This is just another of them." I was on the cusp of attaining Pure Death in my hands, the whispers of knowledge I gleaned from her guaranteed seeing her one more time would certainly grant me the clarity to take the next step on this path. Perhaps when Wyrmrest was broken I could see about getting her here for some more training.

It would be a good lesson for both of us, and to see how far she had come since I'd left her two weeks ago. But, that would be then, and this was now.

"I assume that you are down here because it is ready?"

I didn't turn to look at him but I could feel his smug satisfaction. "Yes."

And with a twitch of my hand, my project met its end.

Without any warning an entire floor of the massive tower exploded, noxious clouds of the Plague rolling down the side in such amounts that others would be impressed. Wraith's memory was of a tale of some ancient myth of war. There were fortifications that the attackers couldn't breach, and so they sought a way through subterfuge, and they succeeded in doing so.

I wasn't interested in the tale itself, which was fine, as I could only draw on the echoes her soul emitted, any more clear detail and I'd need to take a steady hand to her soul… and as much as the thought tempted me for the knowledge and clarity such a thing would give, I fancied living. That said, enough seeped through to inspire me.

Two days ago, a Wyrm was brought down, Heigan and Noth had been arguing who would be getting the dragon's corpse, and who would be getting the reagents from it. Naturally, it devolved into another shouting match between the two of them. For the sake of my own research, and to get away from their prattling, I bypassed the two of them and took the Wyrm for myself. Even thirty years later, the two still acted like schoolyard apprentices.

My reasons for the Wyrm were simple, a clear decisive blow so efforts could be focused elsewhere..

I had dozens of books already written on Dragons, the Plagued Flight, and numerous dissections had shown me too much for even a Wyrm to give me anything new with such practices. So I opted to use this opportunity to advance the siege faster for the sake of more important things. To that end, I gathered as many spare plague barrels from the Necropoli as possible and worked those two days non-stop. Even if I knew much about Dragons, there was always the question of how many barrels one could insert into a creature before they died.

The answer was a respectable 27, after removing all the unnecessary organs. Like the Liver.

After that laborious process was completed, I placed the Wyrm in another Necropolis to break out of. As much as Kel'Thuzad and I were respectful of one another, trashing Naxxramas with a plan - and having the possibility of his cat die in the ensuing rush - was a sure-fire way to die again to Kel'Thuzad. Besides, no one would believe the dragon actually escaped Naxxramus, Kel'Thuzad's reputation for competency backfired on that end.

Especially since the results spoke for themselves.

As my eyes went from the descending cloud of plague to the ground below, I could see the dragonspawn retreating towards the Temple, unaware that it was only a single strike and not a single one more would occur. It was intentional, the single strike would make them wary about any other breakouts, which were far too common amongst the idiots in the other Necropoli, and it let the ground forces push forward more.

Unaware that we wanted them to fortify the temple, to focus their efforts on clearing the plague. Layers upon layers of deception, it gave me nostalgia.

Kel'Thuzad's deep chuckle didn't draw my attention away from the battlefield below, but I was listening with attention when he stopped. "Such an impressive display Gothik. If this was but one of the things Wraith gave you…" He laughed again, and I couldn't help but join in. It reminded me of days long past, when the younger man came into my workshop one day looking for Dream Dust. "Your research is progressing again then?"

I ceased my laughter, still… 'content' and nodded my head. "She gave me insight, old friend." I closed my eyes, and for but a moment I thought I caught a glimpse of something in the dark before it was gone. A sigh echoed as I opened my eyes and turned my back on the battle below. "Ten long years without a breakthrough, and along comes a soul that is so deeply rooted in it that she doesn't realize how special it is."

"Such is the way it is. For us, knowledge and power must be earned with talent and work."

I said nothing to reply to that. Of all people, Kel'Thuzad with his pride didn't realize that he no longer applies to such a thing, having been given his power and knowledge by another, the one we both served. When he returned, he offered to teach me the basics, and that was the last we had talked to one another on such subjects. Our paths were much different after all, I was but a humble researcher, and he was Lord of the Damned.

It was then the Necropoli flashed, the immense hum of magic in the air as links of raw magic bounced from Necropolis to Necropolis, creating key points to a gargantuan ritual circle. All but Naxxramas shimmered, bubbled safely away by immense magic, drawing straight from leylines.

And as the bubbles sealed themselves, the peak of the ritual was reached as a shell began to form around Wyrmrest temple, allowing nothing in, but nothing out either. No magic, no teleportation.

One that would see Wyrmrest Temple sealed, with the Aspects that hid inside trapped.
Layers upon layers, so many resources and time dedicated to soothing Kel'Thuzad's pride.

The assault was engineered to look like a trap for the Aspects, to keep them in reserve. Which in itself was a trap, for the Living Bomb to slip into the temple. Which in itself was its own trap, a distraction to draw back their forces to fortify the temple, thinking that the assault was now actually real. But all of that was a mere ruse, to draw the dragons into their temple, to hide the movements of the Necropoli, to hide the buildup of magic.

All to lock them away.

But now, to perform this ritual with his Necropolis, Naxxramas, to serve as the keystone to the whole thing. Forcing anyone that sought to stop it, to come fight him directly… . "How much longer do you suppose we will stay here Kel'Thuzad? There are more important things to do than eradicate the dragons from this land."

A normal cultist or necromancer would be a splatter against the cursed stone. Even a Death Knight would be frozen solid and shattered for speaking about such a thing to Kel'Thuzad. But, I was not one of the fodder or incompetent fools. And so it was that Kel'Thuzad actually took the question in stride and answered it. "With your ploy successful, I give two weeks before the Dragons crumble." I nodded my head and started to leave, there was still research to do, even if I had no access to the more important materials for breakthroughs. "May your experiments be fruitful, and the Eye lend you insight."

An old farewell between Archmages, well before the schism created in the wake of the expedition north. Just a reminder of better days, where I wasn't haunted by dead ends and him. "May the Eye lead you to victory, and Magic guide your path." And with that, I left my old friend to the balcony and walked with my clicking staff back to my personal workshop. He would be there, as he always was, questioning my methods, lending me a different perspective...

As much as it was cruel, the mind of the greatest Mage in centuries deserved to continue his research, and aid in other projects, where none could force him into something he hated. I was no saint, I was no paladin or priest upholding virtues. I was a humble researcher, and I had long discarded many morals, sins, and virtues in the pursuit of knowledge.

My first and oldest friend, nearly seventy years now. There was still too much for us to do…

The news had spread, Northrend was to be invaded.

Already both the Horde and Alliance had sent landing parties to set up beachfronts for the grand push to finally put an end to the abominable Scourge. Indeed, in both Orgrimmar and Stormwind the War Board has been erected once more, a call to arms posted once more to the countless adventurers.

And many had taken notice. Countless Guilds and bands of adventurers hunted, searched, and harvested on both Azeroth and beyond the Dark Portal for resources, relics, and to hone themselves with experience.

Veterans and Greenhorns alike answered the call to prepare. Some for revenge, some for exploration, some for history, and even some for pleasure.

In any other world, news from the front would have been slow to return, but this was a world of magic with many means of communication.

And so, news of the disastrous landings did reach their respective leaders.

Borean Tundra was lost, for now.

But with this news of the loss came information, what little there was, of a new threat on the continent. With explicitly no fanfare and little comment, this information was exchanged between the factions. And it was unilaterally decided that if the Lich King was to be killed, this new threat would have to be dealt with.

Plans were set.

Posters were drawn.

A Horde Grunt elbowed and shouldered his way through the constant crowd of adventurers reading the War Board before unfurling the rolled up parchment he brought with him and nailing it to the War Board with a simple dagger.

An Alliance Soldier shouted to clear the way as he made his way through the adventures around the War Board before unfurling the parchment poster he had and calmly nailing it to the board.

Adventurers crowded in, many quickly sprinting away to spread the news.

W A N T E D

D E A D

'LADY WRAITH'

Considered to be EXTREMELY dangerous.

Only organized raids recommended.

Edit: For those that know the major PoVs of this chapter, here is a summary of each of the five.

Garrosh Hellscream: Son of the legendary Orc Hero Grommash Hellscream, who saved their race from enslavement at the cost of his own life. Young, proud of his heritage and untested, he has much to learn before he is anywhere close to the figure his father was.

Tzo'zi: An Amani Troll Berserker, turned Death Knight after the fall of Zul'Aman a year ago. Savage, brutal and worshipping a Deity of his people despite being part of the Scourge. Tzo'zi is a mystery to all save the Lich King, and his motives and desires seem simple, but suspect.

Halford Wyrmbane: An old Paladin of the Silver Hand, sworn in service after the end of the 2nd War 16yrs ago. Leading the elite forces of the 7th Legion, Wyrmbane has led the Alliance forces from the front since the battle of Mount Hyjal.

Heinrich the Steady: Interim 'Mortal' leader of the Onslaught in the wake of Wraith's rule. An Orphan of no importance, managing to rise to his Rank through sheer grit and effort, rather than faith or lineage.

Gothik the Harvester: An old Archmage of Dalaran, obsessed with the quest for knowledge. Disdainful of power, wealth and status, Gothik stands as the oldest and strongest mage still alive among the younger races, even putting several of the Elven magisters to shame.

greysongarr · May 10, 2021

Grey AN: This is the last of the currently written chapters, so expect a month or a few to pass before the next one. Hope those reading have enjoyed this.

Grey AN: … So, Sneaky got proposed to by an AI. I wish I was joking.
Said AI is as bloodthirsty as Skynet on her good days.

Sneaky AN: I have no words. In other news, my health took its toll on me and really delayed this chapter, but big thanks to our betas for putting up with us and helping massively overhaul a scene that didn't quite make the cut in terms of quality.

The walk to the Cathedral had been tense, though I hadn't let it show, and I suspect neither did the Grand Admiral. The Onslaught along the path gave glances at us before resuming their work - hauling material to wherever it needed to be - while conversely, Westwind's priests looked uncomfortable the entire walk up. The silence didn't help, but it worked to my advantage in atmosphere creation. I didn't let it show, but I was reasonably irate, seeing as another interruption decided to land itself into my lap.

Another thing on my mind was how much more emotion I was suddenly feeling. Ironically, I wasn't sure how to feel about it. It was like using my old powers again, now that I actually thought about it in retrospect, feeling the emotion yet not showing a single reaction. Being annoyed by rain, frustrated by the constant stream of interruptions, but pleased at my progress, determined in my goals. Thanks, Partner.

I suppose the phrase 'You don't know what you have until it is gone' has merit. Somewhere along the line, maybe even before I was brought to this world, I had lost so much of myself. Now piece by piece, it comes back to me.

Still waiting on that new arm, though.

Shaking off my thoughts, I was met by Thessa as the Cathedral doors swung open, and without a word, she led us to the room I had 'claimed' as mine the day I conquered the Harbor. I walked into the room with measured steps as plans churned in my mind on how to handle a possible Fantasy Jack Slash in charge of an army of elite Undead killing fanatics. At some point, it had been swept away of everything religious and left barren beyond a strip of red fabric. It made me realize I'd need to get a proper place for meetings in the future, as the former chapel was more or less barren and used solely now as a place of meditation now by the looks of it.

But that came after this meeting.

"You had best have a reason for this meeting Admiral, my patience is low, and I wouldn't hesitate just to snuff your life out if I found this to be… worthless." Westwind gave a chuckle as I walked down the aisle. With my back turned to him, the only warning I had was a flare of [̢͢E̶̷̢ŗ̀͠r͡or͠] before roiling green flame slammed into and around me.

I grit my teeth in pain and annoyance as my vision swam in sickly green while the roar of fire filled the air. I was unable to see or hear Westwind or the priests he brought with him. I barely even registered the pinpricks of force I felt on my back as more spells impacted me, the flames drowning them out in power and pain. A growl left my throat as I willed Death to flare out, my arm blazing to 'life' and forcing the fire to abate around me as the flames died.

Slowly, I turned around, my eyes immediately focusing on Westwind as his face morphed from a haughty smirk into one of disbelief before it hardened. Behind him, I could see a shimmering yellow-white barrier appear over the doorway, with another being cast to protect the two priests that seemed to be maintaining them. The other two slowly backed away on steady legs, but I could see the fear in their eyes. With a flick of my hand, a fan of empowered Deathbolts rocketed forward. Two slammed straight into the priests, sending their corpses flying across the room into slumped piles. Westwind himself had performed a hasty shield that didn't last long under the barrage.

With time bought, I risked a glance down at myself and had to force myself to outwardly relax as I internally seethed at the state of my body and my new clothes. The fire had utterly ruined them, reducing them to little more than scorched scraps of cloth, though I suppose more importantly was the several sections of my body that now had rents in it, leaving me startled as pure Death spilled out. It, however, didn't explain how my left arm was still attached, considering it was wholly separate from my body and now floating where it was supposed to be, somehow, but now wasn't the time.

I leveled a glare at Westwind, my irritation plain to hear. "I just got those clothes." He tensed and leapt to the side to avoid the successive volley of Deathbolts I shot at him, his shield unneeded as they blew a sizable section of an adjacent pillar to rubble instead.

Before I could send another Deathbolt at him, Westwind spoke in some grating, hellish tongue and I bore witness to him… transforming. His skin bulged, then ripped apart in a shower of blood and flesh, two horns erupted from his forehead while bat-like wings unfurled behind his back. He rose to the point where he towered over me by at least three feet, glaring down with eyes the same color as the fire had been.

Instead of a human, what stood in front of me was apparently a Demon. Unfortunately, for it...

"Is that all?"

I was not impressed.

In my time on Earth Bet and now here - I had experienced much and seen more. An excessively tall Demon with exaggerated humanoid features? All things considered, rated relatively low.

A grating growl echoed in the halls while its hands lit up with green flame as it lobbed bolts of [҉E͏̡̨r̵̶r̨͝o̕͟r͟͞] straight at me with reckless hate. But I refuse to dignify this pathetic assassination attempt by even playing along with the idea that they had me pressed. Instead, I flicked my actual hand up, raising a Wall of Death in the path of the spells. While it blocked my view of the Demon it destroyed the bolts of [̸̷̛E̷̕̕r̵̵ro͏͟r̶͠]̧͝͡. I was not going to test or experiment when it comes to whatever magic the creature was using, not if my mind would throb every time I gazed at it. With another wave of my hand, the wall blasted forward, annihilating the stonework in its path. I turned my head to the right as I caught the Demon sliding to a stop behind another of the thick pillars in the room.

I sighed as I swept my ethereal hand towards it, launching a slightly more powerful Deathspear at the pillar it hid behind. Its wings flapped once, launching it off the ground with a mighty beat, just narrowly avoiding the column as it shattered into a hail of shrapnel. Its hands were engulfed in a shadowy mist, and with a grandiose gesture as it pointed directly at me, the fog… fizzled out.

Then I was struck with a spike of vertigo, and my mind numbed, if only for a brief moment.

It was nothing major - a slight throbbing that made my eyes narrow in minute pain - so I largely ignored it and sent another two bolts of Death at the Demon. The creature was barely able to dodge out of the way in time, possibly thinking I would be affected far more than I was. The wall behind the creature exploded in a shower of shards and dust as my eyes narrowed in further frustration from his continued delusion that he could win this fight as long as he dodged everything I threw at him. The [Annoyance] I felt was justified. Was it too much to ask for even a day where I didn't have to deal with more bullshit?

"Will you just quit dodging! You're only making me angrier."

While I didn't hear a reply, I instead had one thrown at me in the form of more of that [҉Ȩ̶̵r̕r̀or̨̛͝]͢͞. A wave of my hands sent another set of carefully aimed Deathbolts careening into the [̸Ȩ̸r̴r̕o̧͏ŕ]̧ and ate through the [̸Ȩ̸r̴r̕o̧͏ŕ]̧ with ease before chasing after the Demon. I gave a slight smirk as the headache subsided, as chains manifested from my right arm, clinking together with malice I felt for the Demon, waiting for the right moment.

The Demon twisted to the side and barely avoided the first of the Deathbolts… only to immediately be blasted in the chest by the second that followed in the wake of the first. Unprepared for the force behind it, the creature was sent flying by the hit, slamming into the wall behind it. Stone and dust cascaded around it as the other two bolts hit the wall around it. The chains rattled as I flicked my right hand down, sending them flying forward, and I was rewarded with a grunt followed by an outraged cry before it quickly became silent.

And as the dust settled, I saw the Demon struggling against my chains, futilely of course, but I wasn't willing to let it rest at that. Focusing, the loose mist of Death surrounding me withdrew back into me, hardening in accordance to my will. The chain snaked around the Demon's throat before pulling taut. The glares the Demon had been trying to set me on fire with - note to self, eyebeams likely exist - halted as it followed the chain back to my hand, noting its now taut nature.

Ah, there was the fear.

"I invited you into my territory, fairly won, as a guest. With which you ultimately attempted and failed to assassinate me." I pulled on the chain and heaved. The Demon was lifted from the floor and sent it careening through one of the pillars with sheer kinetic force. "I have worked without rest or a moment's break since I arrived on this miserable planet. Playing pretend as incompetent mortals issued me order after Order!" I pulled on the chain and heaved again. The Demon was lifted from the rubble and was slammed through another pillar on the opposite side of the room. "I have just about had it! Now I have questions," I pulled and slashed with the chain, yanking the Demon forward and dragging him face-first across the stonework to lay at my feet.

Now loose, I let go of the chain, gripping at the air in front of me with focus. I was rewarded with more chains emerging from the murky shadows around us, wrapping around its arms and legs, hoisting it into the air before me. The original chain now hanging limply from the Demon like a loose noose.

"And you, Demon, are going to answer them."

I turned my head to the side at the, almost inaudible, sound of metal slicing through flesh, only to find Thessa standing stoically as the last Priest fell to the floor, his head rolling away a bit before stopping. Ignoring the scene, I turned back to the Demon. "Are we clear?"

It looked at me with what contempt it could muster, "Very well, you have bested me. Ask, I shall answer."

That was… too easy. I recalled its earlier gaze when it was pretending to be that human still, the one that reminded me of Jack Slash… To see the Demon crumble so easily? No, no, it just meant that it was prepared for such a situation. This wasn't an enemy subdued - giving me answers in hopes of freedom. This was an enemy subdued - thinking it was temporary and that no matter what I did, it would escape in the end.

"Hrm, and what assurance do I have? Perhaps I should just flay your soul and take what I want?"

His wet chuckle interrupted me. "Dispense with the threats. If that was your plan, you would have done that from the start." He gave me a wicked grin. "Besides, I assure you I tell naught but the truth. Why lie when the truth can do more harm?"

That… that was, unfortunately, more along the lines of what I expected. It was also, unfortunately, true. I didn't intend to flay its soul, nor was I particularly interested in consuming something that was capable of producing such [E͝r͘ror̷]. On the other hand, even if it told the truth, it made it easier to lie. Ten truths and one lie and things become so much more muddled, yet at the same time…

I thought back to how much of my life might have been different had I not lied, had I told the truth. Or rather, how much of my life could have been different if others told the truth. Lives saved or destroyed by it. A whole world ended by the truth or saved by a lie?

I had to give the creature credit where it was due. The truth was a weapon of its own. And what was the term? Self-fulfilling prophecy? Fighting against a 'truth' given could very well make it real, as much as accepting it might.

I gave it a nod of acknowledgment. The creature's point was clear. Whatever it told me was likely going to be framed in the worst way possible, but it would still be the truth. "Let's start with something simple then, Demon. Tell me your name."

It drew itself up as much as possible, "I am Mal'Ganis, Dreadlord of the Burning Legion. And… despite your impressive display of Death Magics, I am, and will remain, Eternal."

I doubted it was the Demon's real name. But, I had to contain a bubble of amusement at the title of Dreadlord as it sounded far too much like Alec being allowed free reign on naming things. However, the rest of it… Eternal? Burning Legion? Interesting wording. It has taken injury and is still actively bleeding all over my fine stone floor. So that crosses off regeneration. That left death itself. Immortality would imply an inability to die, but eternal, that would indicate a persistence post-death. I searched my memories and faintly remembered a few of the older fantasy books I read, published before Entities came. Demons who died on the material plane would merely be returned to their home dimension to reform, it took time and power, but they would come back.

Burning Legion sounded like a faction, an organized one, perhaps a creature strong enough to gather Demons under a single banner? The [Error] likely being their source of power, the satyrs from Crystalsong Forest used a watered-down version now that I thought about it. Were they connected to this Legion as well?

Possibly another avenue of confirming the information? No matter, that was for the future. For now, let's stick with the basics. "Why did you try to assassinate me? What would that have accomplished?" I was honestly confused by it all. If he was planning to kill me, why not actually bring more troops? If he was planning to manipulate me, why attack?

Mal'Ganis gave me a measured look. "I… admit that I had made… assumptions on your prowess. When my faithful followers stopped responding to my attempts to contact them, I had assumed a lich or particularly promising necromancer had managed to take the harbor."

Ah. "You were expecting my peers, who would let the buildings go to waste, and the troops to be pitiful zombies."

It nodded. "Indeed. Instead, I found a burgeoning fortress staffed by the very followers I had thought slain."

That's it? Just curiosity? "So you disembarked from your ship without your army, pretended to want to negotiate with me to… try and assassinate me?"

The Demon took his time to lazily look at the chains binding him. "Yes, it was a mistake on my part. I had thought you were a mere researcher, one that had been lucky in cracking my Boon."

I see it thought itself exposed to some extent. Something about the Bane must have given away its true nature, and it feared that I was loyal to the Scourge and would report it. But why… oh, right. It thought the harbor was lost. It thought them merely dead. But when it had seen them, seen the 'necromancer' that raised them… I outwardly sighed. It assumed so much and fell victim to its own superiority complex. "And now?"

It turned its attention back to me and grinned. "The Legion is always looking to recruit promising candidates."

I frowned. Was it really-? "I don't think you understand the position you are in right now." I turned my hand minutely. I wanted to test these chains. There was something… special about them, I didn't know what. But at the same time… it felt like I did. It felt like a forgotten memory, the kind you are on the brink of recalling any detail of but just can't. But as the chain holding the Demon's right arm began to rattle and glow as it snaked down its arm toward its shoulder blade… The Demon knew. Its head snapped to the chain, and I saw genuine fear on its face.

"Tell me Demon, how do they feel? The Fetters of Mortality? It has bound things far more powerful than you." At least, I assumed it did. The Elementals were far more threatening than this creature was. They definitely also posed more danger to me as it's somewhat hard to outrun the ground you are standing on, the air you live in, or the fire and water you need.

Its eyes were still transfixed on the chain that had wrapped its way around its bicep, slowly emanating a thin dark purple mist. "Where… how…" It finally turned its eyes back to me, where once was a calculating gaze - one of cunning and malicious intelligence - was now one filled with caution and a hint of fear. "What are you?"

I made myself visibly frown and reminded myself that the creature in front of me likely has a rap sheet that would make the E88 look pristine in comparison. You didn't become a 'Dreadlord' of Demons, in a faction calling itself the 'Burning Legion', by being kind, minimizing casualties, or treating PoWs with respect. With that in mind, my left hand reached out towards the chains wrapped around his right arm and mimed gripping them.

"Apologies if I wasn't clear." I began to mime pulling the chain, watching in real-time as it reacted to my motions, tightening around its arm and pulling taut. The arm jerked and strained while the rest of its body was held in place by the other chains. "But this is not a dialogue." I pulled harder. Pain bloomed across the Demon's face. "This is not a recruitment drive." I pulled harder and was rewarded with a pop of a joint. "This is an interrogation." I focused my will on both the magic itself and the outcome I wanted, then yanked, watching with satisfaction as the arm ripped free with a squelch and shower of blood.

I stared at the limp, dismembered arm as it swung in the air, the howl of pain in the background ignored. So many concessions. So many compromises. I sighed and turned back to the Demon. It stared at me with fury and hatred, nothing new to me. "You are not in control here, Mal'Ganis." I began to pace. "I'm not some weak-willed fanatic for you to manipulate." I had to organize my thoughts. I had just placed a time limit on myself, not for him to bleed out no - that I couldn't care less about - but time to capitalize on the change of pace. "You are going to answer my questions. You are going to answer these questions if I have to rip apart your body and soul with it."

Because that is precisely what I did. A little piece of Mal'Ganis was now in that arm, and as far as I was aware, it would stay there as long as I let the chain keep it bound. There was something I had realized I needed to rectify, especially after what happened with Sigvaldr. Sigvaldr was obviously immortal in some fashion, and from what it sounded like - not entirely by his own desire. Kel'Thuzad was immortal with the classic lich phylactery and everything.

And I was immortal now, too.

At least as far as I was aware I was, that Supernova had vaporized my body when Sigvaldr cut into it, and Partner had clearly put me back together in a… I stared down at my arm that was disconnected from my 'body' yet still attached. Shall we say an unconventional way?

I… I had been playing it fast and loose. I wasn't sure what was worse: the fact that I was acting like it didn't matter if I died or not, or that I did die, and I still didn't care.

I needed to look into the immortality of this world; I needed to figure it out. Not only because there were apparently a lot of immortals running around, and I needed to figure out how to kill them, but there were immortals running around. I didn't need to be an Oracle to know the chances of someone or something out there that could kill me permanently.

Mal'ganis was that opportunity. He was nowhere near as strong as Sigvaldr, he wasn't nominally on my side like the Liches, and I certainly wasn't desperate enough to start experimenting on myself.

But I was racing against time now on so many angles. Kel'Thuzad, The Scourge, The Alliance, The Horde, Religious fanatics, immortal SuperNorse made of sea debris...

Calm.

Outwardly, my face betrayed nothing. I made up my mind as Mal'ganis had impressively steadied his breathing. No matter what answers it gave me, it was a loose end that I could actually take care of immediately.

But that also meant I could ask the questions that normally would've outed me… "So, then let's start. What is this 'Burning Legion of yours? This is the first I've heard of them."

The creature stared at me, the incredulous look on his face blatantly apparent, movement in the background made me realize that Thessa was looking at me oddly. Well, now I was glad I didn't try to beat around the bush, hoping someone would just say what I wanted to know. The Demon didn't answer until I twisted my hand and the chain on his remaining arm began to languidly and slowly inch its way up.

"...Very Well. The Burning Legion is the infinite army, the Unstoppable Crusade, united under the Dark Titan Sargeras…" What followed was a history lesson that horrified me, intrigued Thessa, and annoyed Mal'Ganis. I often had to interrupt him for clarification, but the more I learned, the more horrified I became. Sure, Mal'Ganis could lie, but the tale was too internally consistent and too far-reaching for him to get away with it. That isn't to say he didn't lie. I'm sure he did. But it was likely going to be lies of omission or twisting of lesser-known information that he guessed I wouldn't be able to counter-check.

But the broad strokes painted a gloomy picture. Void, which from descriptions sounded much like Lovecraft's monsters, sought to consume reality. They did this by 'seeding' worlds with cancerous growths called 'Void Gods', immensely powerful creatures of their own right able to wield magics that some on PHO would jokingly label 'Master: Yes'. Sargeras, once a Titan of [Order], acted when his peers wouldn't and united the disorganized Demon hordes living in the Twisting Nether under a single banner called the 'Burning Legion'.

These Demons persisted off of every form of energy, including souls. But they mainly fed from the corruptive energy native to the Twisting Nether known as Fel. Typical Faustian bargain energy source too - as it heavily corrupted people that took it in, willingly or not. In exchange, it granted them an increase in power for eventually losing yourself and having your goals twisted from their original purpose, bent to the will of the Legion.

Not that Mal'Ganis mentioned the last bit, but it was not all that much of a leap of logic when he talked about how the Burning Legion went from world to world - numbering in the thousands apparently - conquering and corrupting them, adding the 'strongest' to their ranks. At that point, Thessa chimed in with some Azeroth history about how the Legion had already failed twice to take this planet and were the reason why Orcs were here. Apparently, you could use Fel magic to bridge worlds with instantaneous portals, one of which still existed on this one.

I sighed. The worst part is that I'm not sure if this Sargeras' reasoning was even wrong per se. Letting eldritch horrors overwhelm and consume worlds, with the end goal of eating reality, sounded exactly like what I sacrificed everything to stop. But his solution was to apparently corrupt and burn worlds before the Void could.

I shook my head. Mal'Ganis spared no expense vamping up Sargeras and the power he wields. Supposedly he was large enough and strong enough to cleave a planet in half, with his blade, which was larger than a planet. If someone like that could clearly succumb to the Fel corruption… I'm glad I didn't learn from those satyrs now.

Still… I glanced up at Mal'Ganis' other arm that now swayed from the ceiling. The vile Demon attempted to omit his direct involvement in creating and propagating an actual, literal, magical zombie virus that made the Scourge. Something Thessa had no problem informing me of. Apparently, the Scarlet Onslaught were the actual survivors of the magical super-plague that shattered an entire kingdom's worth of Humans. To no surprise, both Gothik and Kel'thuzad were involved in said machinations.

I could honestly say that I was out of my depth now. Spacefaring Demons, eldritch horrors, magical super plagues, arcane mystery, and skullduggery… Ha, just like old times.

The rattling of chains dragged my eyes back to the Demon on its knees, who was glaring at me once again. Although, it was greatly diminished from the evident lethargy it displayed and the defeated air it had.

"Tell me one last thing, Mal'Ganis. What did you hope to accomplish?" It opened its mouth, but I waved my hand, "No, I don't mean trying to kill me. I meant the Scarlet Onslaught. What purpose were they supposed to serve?" It had genuinely confused me. It had made the Scourge and now led a Human army against it. Only the Human army was considered to be fanatics by literally everyone. So it was not like it was to diminish populations or feed the Scourge, as they were a definite thorn in the side of the Undead.

"Vengeance." I looked at it curiously. "The Lich King betrayed me- betrayed the Legion." It flared its wings as it stood, looking down at me imperiously as one could without arms. "The mortals served willingly. They too were betrayed by Arthas, their former Crown Prince, now Lich King. Under my guidance, he would fall!"

I stared blankly at him, then shook my head in disappointment. "It is sad, really. If you started with that, I might have even helped you. Don't worry, Mal'Ganis, your plans won't be for nothing. The Lich King will fall... by my hand. Your Onslaught will be useful, so thank you."

The chains around its legs rattled as it stepped forward, snarling, but as it opened its mouth to speak, I silenced him. Not with words, no, but by flicking my hand and reminding it of the chain around the Demon's throat as it pulled tautly. When it looked back, I could see the realization dawn on the creature as the chain now hung from the ceiling. Its head whipped back to me, straggled gasps the only sound it could make.

"There is one correction I would like to make Mal'Ganis. You introduced yourself as 'Eternal', and like many before you, I'll be altering that to 'Temporary'." And with a twist of my hand, I sent the chain retracting, pulling Mal'Ganis backward and into the air. The snap ping! of metal links echoed through the room as the fetters around its legs pulled tight. Quickly followed by the grinding of bones and the rips of flesh.

I spared only a glance at the Demon that now hung in pieces from my ceiling before I brushed past the corpse and left the room.

There was work to be done.

I did not consider myself religious.

It was by the kindness of the people that I lived. It was by the cruelty of the people that I suffered. The Light may have motivated them to help… the Light itself gave me nothing. The Light did not fill my belly or shelter me… The Light did not stop a nation-ending plague.

It did not save the infected.

It was cold steel that put an end to the infection. It was determined people that stemmed the tide of the damned. My dedication to training brought me to where I was, not faith in a higher power.

So it was without hesitation that when the sound of combat could be heard I attempted to assist My Lady. My first attempt at entry revealed that they blocked the door, using the Light no doubt if the golden light shining from the cracks was anything to judge by.

It would undoubtedly have stalled the rank and file. Perhaps it would hold against Henrich. I was not Henrich. My methods were far more… subtle.

I pulled on My Lady's boon and sunk into the shadow of all things popping out behind the Priest barring the door. Neither Priest was ready for me to suddenly appear. As such, I dispatched them quickly. Glancing around, I found the other lesser Priests already dead.

However, what made me pause was the lack of Admiral Westwind and in his place was a Dreadlord… and the fact that said Dreadlord was now held aloft by My Lady's magic in the form of disturbing metal chains.

The room was utterly wrecked, and with the state of the Dreadlord, while My Lady hadn't moved, I could only assume that she had thoroughly thrashed the despicable creature. An impressive feat, to be sure, made all the more so when the Dreadlord spoke its name: Mal'Ganis.

Mal'Ganis. One of the sources of our misery, a vile creature that drove our Crown Prince to madness. The same one that created the plague that brought about the Scourge. The same one that had beguiled and whispered in the ears of nobles, politicians, guards, and beggars alike, convincing them to betray their species in exchange for a promise of power.

The fact that those same people are now all dead, or in the throes of such madness they are little better than feral dogs to be put down, should speak of how valuable the Demon's promises were.

And yet, now here he was - thrown around like a ragdoll and trussed up by My Lady. My Lady, who made me do a double-take, as she both seemed severely wounded yet not at all. Despite the fact there was now a gap between her arm and the rest of her body, the missing body having been replaced by odd purplish emanations.

I held my tongue, allowing My Lady to proceed as she planned. It was difficult, especially when he offered My Lady a place in the Legion. I did not think for a second she would accept, but it was not hard to speak out in a fury at the insult he gave at the offer.

To think My Lady was so weak she would crawl and bow to the Legions wishes!

I wanted nothing more than to cut down the Demon, but My Lady's actions stayed my hand. She taunted the Demon, and oh how I wished I could see his face as I watched the chain pull tight on his arm.

I stared in awe at the shower of gore that splattered the room as she ripped the Great Mal'ganis' arm off. His wails of pain and how he sagged forever etched into my memory. To see such a vile creature brought low, especially one that was behind the destruction of my home…

It would be a grand memory to hold close to my heart. Another gift from My Lady.

However… "What is the Burning Legion?" My Lady asked with absolutely no recognition of the name. Both Mal'Ganis and I gave her looks of utter befuddlement. How could she not have known...?

I thought back to when My Lady had first raised me into her service. That indecipherable existence I saw. We had known the Scourge were digging deep and unearthing obscenely old artifacts and relics from ages long past… I eyed Lady Wraith speculatively. It was possible that such artifacts were not all they unearthed. But to not know of the Legion?

I barely paid attention as Mal'Ganis answered the Lady's questions. The enigma of her origins lay before me.

Her age. That Existence. I inspected her body once more, that corroding purple energy that seemed to serve as her blood. How she seemed to be utterly unaffected by her 'wounds'...

I was momentarily distracted by my thoughts when Mal'Ganis had begun to tell her of the Scourge. I wasted no time in being sure to inform her of the truth of what happened. Mal'Ganis' involvement especially. I savored the look of rage and hatred he tried to give me; it was vastly undermined by his countless wounds, which now included two missing arms.

Another great present from My Lady, to see him de-limbed, kneeling on the floor before Her.

I kept careful watch of My Lady's expressions while I retold the fall of Lorderon. Usually, such an exercise would have been futile as her face had been quite monotonal the entire time I had known her, but not now. Perhaps it was the alteration of her body, no longer seemingly the one she arrived with. Perhaps something about Mal'Ganis or the Burning Legion had lit a flame inside.

I couldn't know, but I would be thankful nonetheless as I watched My Lady's face. She reacted not to locations or names but rather to the events themselves and the titles of who was involved. She truly knew nothing.

My suspicions returned, and I continued to dwell on them as she moved on and continued her interrogation of Mal'Ganis. Until finally, she asked the question I, too, was interested in.

Why did Mal'Ganis lead us against the Scourge? And so effectively at that, as the techniques of raising our slain came from his cabal, as well as the Boon that prevented the Scourge from doing the same to us.

His answer? Vengeance! He apparently had his own bone to pick with the Lich King after being, ironically enough, betrayed by him. I wish Henrich were here, just to see his face.

But the Lady tired of him, and at first, I thought she would merely leave him there, chained to the floor when I noticed the chain around his neck was now hanging from the ceiling… and was retracting.

I was truly blessed to watch in awe as a Dreadlord, a genocidal super-spy of the Burning Legion, was brutally hung in front of me with metal chains.

The shower of blood was gruesome, splattering across the room as the tightening chain shredded his neck and the powdering of the bones under the forces involved. The snap ping! Of the chains was music to my ears.

And the body did not disappear. Unlike everything I heard about demons and how they were supposed to fade once their bodies were slain, Mal'Ganis' did not. It simply hung there. Dead, truly dead.

I could do naught but stare in awe.

My Lady showed indifference as the energies emanating from her ate away at the blood that landed on her. As if what she had done was not momentous. As if she had not just partially avenged the fallen kingdom of Lorderon.

I hurried after her as she walked out of the room and began to wander the Cathedral. I took the silence as an opportunity. "My Lady?"

"Yes, Thessa?"

I wanted to ask so severely… I had to know. "Will you permit me to ask a personal question?"

She halted, and I with her. Tilting her head so she could eye me speculatively, she said, "And what would that be?"

"Are you Human?" I waited with bated breath for her answer. But it was an answer slowly coming, as at first, she had turned to me but when I looked into her glowing eyes they… they didn't feel like they were looking at me. Instead, she felt as many under my command had as if they were staring at something in the far distance only they could see. I heard her mutter a name, "Lisa."

Eventually, My Lady refocused and gave me a sad smile, "No, I suppose I'm not. Will that be an issue?"

I straightened out of reflex, "Of course not, My Lady!" She smiled now in amusement at me, so I continued, "It was just… the Legion is widely known and has been around since…" I paused, "Well, if you ask the elves, they claim the entirety of Azeroth's history."

She blinked at me in slight disbelief before shaking her head. "So it wasn't an empty boast then."

I shrugged, "Apologies, my Lady, but I couldn't provide a satisfactory answer. As far as my knowledge extends, the broad strokes, at least concerning Azeroth, are correct."

She merely hummed in response, turning back around to begin walking once more. I quickly followed, my curiosity satisfied for now.

I contented myself with following behind My Lady when she abruptly said, "Thessa, I think I will wander these halls a little longer. Could you ask around and find what needs my personal attention? Oh, and send the ship off- tell them… Hrmm..." She chuckled. "Tell them that 'our goals align' and that their dear Adminal will be hanging around for quite some time…"

I bowed and stifled my own amusement, "Of course, My Lady. At once." Then I turned and rushed off to see it done.

But it was not all that I would do. I had to find some Priests to consecrate the prayer hall, for I was sure the others would love to pray to Our Lady in the same room as the Corpse of Mal'Ganis.

I had not considered myself religious.

I shared a brief conversation with Thessa, and after that, familiarized myself with the expansive Cathedral more. It really did seem to be a fallback point for the entirety of the Harbor with how many floors and rooms it held, both above and below ground.

Eventually, I had ceased roaming the Cathedral and resigned myself to dealing with the rest of the Harbor. When finally I decided to get back into gear and start doing something, even if I didn't know what at the moment, Thessa was there at my side, like an attendant. Giving her a sidelong glance, she bowed her head and spoke without preamble. "My Lady, progress has been made on fortifying the Harbor. Heinrich requires your input on several matters in regards to the construction effort, however."

I gave a nod before starting to walk out of the room, Thessa seamlessly falling in line behind me despite the lack of warning. Through the empty, pristine hallways, we went until we were once more out in the hail-filled air.

Now that I wasn't focused on other matters, I looked around and noticed the progress being made in my absence with the materials I secured. All of the buildings along the main road were now made of stone, meticulously crafted to not only be structurally sound but have defensive positions available to anyone in the building. Namely, it was starting to shape up to be a series of squat-looking storehouses that rose in height the farther from the outer walls and harbor entrance they were.

I think my Onslaught took the 'make it defensible' order with a bit too much gusto…

Shaking my head, I focused on the Onslaught hauling bars of some black metal, purple-hued marble, sickly-black lumber, and other materials through the streets without pause. What they were to be used for in specifics, I had no idea beyond the broad term of 'Defense', but I trusted that Heinrich would use them where they would be best suited. He seemed to have the construction well in hand, and some delegation would be for the best if my recent… 'adventure' was an indication of the future.

I'd probably have to figure out something for my port at some point, but that could wait for when it became necessary, and the Harbor was secure.

Pushing that aside, I took a moment to study my Onslaught further as I continued forward. Most of them were wearing the same kind of armor as Heinrich was last I saw him, that black armor that had been a gift from his teacher, with the rest being in robes or work clothing. And even those were wearing some amount of the black metal on their person apparently, given that I saw black metal covering one of those priests' hands as he helped another Onslaught haul a pallet of lumber in the direction of the docks.

"Thessa." My attendant quickly focused on me, given the gaze I could feel on the back of my head. "What exactly has been done in my absence?"

She wasted no time in answering, and I was content to just listen to her as we continued down the road. "Shortly after you left, My Lady, we had two transport ships fitted, manned, and sent off to the planned outpost to await materials. The Kvaldir arrived in the middle of the journey, but they were dealt with, and since then, we have been having regular shipments for the two weeks since you left."

Huh, two weeks was good progress for how the Harbor looked at the moment. I could only imagine what it would look like when it was finished. It also made me annoyed that I had lost two weeks because of the stupidity of the Tundra.

Thessa continued on, regardless of my thoughts. "Heinrich took to the construction since the foreman went back to the outpost to oversee its own construction and management. He's been sending periodic shipments to the Dryads for their resources and managed to find a deposit of Saronite near the outpost." Saronite? That was the name for the metal? … It was certainly interesting, if nothing else. Something about it was...

"Heinrich thinks it'll take only two more shipments of stone to finish the walls." Walls? How'd I miss that there were walls being built? No, wait… I didn't. I had just glazed over them. Get it together, Taylor. "Don't know what other things he has planned, but the craftsmen are hard at work making munitions and siege engines to man the walls." I… Glad to know they were going all out, but still, I was expecting some barricades, maybe some spikes, and some traps when I left.

I wasn't expecting a Castle Wall™ to greet me when I reached the docks. Nowhere near as big or menacing as En'Kilah had been sure, but it was still a wall where I hadn't expected one, and one that stretched along the coast further along the island.

… Now I was wondering how they managed to get all that done in two weeks. Or maybe it wasn't surprising. They were Undead now, after all. No rest, no fatigue, no food, and the weather doesn't phase them.

Thessa stopped speaking, and I was thankful as it let me process the massive amount of changes the island had undergone since I had first assaulted it. If it weren't for the fact that they had it coming if they tried it, I would pity anyone stupid enough to try and assault the Harbor now. The only thing that'd make it worse was if I had more people manning the Harbor.

Heinrich was directing the construction effort from a pile of wood haphazardly made into a platform… though calling it 'directing' was overstating it since he was just looking over the Onslaught as they worked without saying a word. It was apparently effective given the progress he'd made, and it allowed him to disengage from it the moment I was near him, stepping down from the lumber with a grunt.

"Lady Wraith." He was curt, wasting no time as I had come to expect from him. "Wall's close to done."

I gave a nod in reply, my reply uttered as I came to a stop in front of him. "Thessa's already told me the summary. What is it you need from me?" The man took a moment to think before looking back at the wall under construction.

"We got the main island near-finished, which leaves what to do with the other island left." He made a point saying that, though given the scale they were working, I had assumed that they had already started building or were at least finished planning and waiting on materials.

With that said, I wasn't too sure about anything in the way of defenses, let alone the scale necessary for the Harbor, considering what I thought was appropriate. And even if I had an inkling of an idea of what to put together, I would still need to actually inspect the other area first to see what would even be a good idea to put there… "For the moment, leave it. I'll inspect it shortly and tell you if I want anything there."

He nodded his head and turned around, climbing back on top of the woodpile even as two workers removed a beam from it, sending a few assorted pieces sliding off as the rest shifted under his weight. And with the dismissal from both of us, I started heading towards the smaller island across the bridge.

It hadn't changed at all since I first set foot on it. Rocky crags, the remnants of guard posts, and the occasional patch of snow dotted the land, marking it as a desolate hellhole. And Tzo'zi and his Knights had apparently started building an encampment right in the middle of it.

Well, the Corrupted Blood were, Tzo'zi was currently beating one of his knights into the ground… and he was doing it without his armor, while his punching bag had theirs on.

… I guess that was why Tzo'zi was in charge of them.

As we got closer several of the Death Knights looked up and noticed us before quickly going back to their tasks, and I actually got a glimpse of what they were building. Wooden fences, crude as they were, totems and other occult-like things that made me a little uneasy seeing, and what looked like several small shrines of rock and wood, with space for what I assumed would be a bigger one in the middle of all of them.

Well, I hadn't had any ideas for what to do with this island anyway, and the Corrupted Blood looked like they were setting up a camp here, so I made the executive decision of not bothering making any defenses for this island. It would probably alienate Tzo'zi and his knights, which was the last thing I wanted when he willingly came with me for no apparent reason, and it wasn't like there was anything worthwhile here, to begin with. At least, before the Corrupted Blood set up shop, that is.

Only when I reached a hastily made fence did Tzo'zi finish his… beatdown, picking the smaller Death Knight by the neck and tossing them away to crash into a fence on the other side of the 'ring', spitting with contempt before walking away. He saw me watching him passively, stalking over with a scowl on his face… At least I assumed it was a scowl, given Tzo'zi didn't have human features.

Tzo'zi himself, as I took a moment to look over him, was undoubtedly a strange creature. Pasty green skin was the first thing I noted. It could have been the natural color of his skin, or the color had drained away since death, but I was not about to ask that. The next thing naturally was that Tzo'zi was muscular, very muscular - not to the point that he was bulked to the end one would cry steroids - but certainly the kind of muscles one would see in a person who worked every day in their life. Every last inch of his body was well-defined, with an underlying strength exuding from him. Last was not his hair, since he didn't have a single strand as far as I could see, and he was in a loincloth - so I saw more than I wanted - were his tattoos.

They were painted on with a beauty that I couldn't deny, despite how archaic and crude they looked, all but one being in blue-tinted white paint. And they covered him from head to toe, down both arms, across his back and chest, nowhere was spared from the ritual painting, and it left an intimidating figure. Which only made the red marking taking up the right side of his face more noticeable, twisting around his glowing eye and marking something I didn't understand.

"Boss Lady" He gave a nod of his head when he was close, vaulting over the fence with ease and walking in the direction of a pile of armor, which I assumed was his. I followed after with Thessa right behind me, utterly at ease with the situation, and we stopped just shy of him as he knelt down and started putting the armor on.

"I take it you're settling in?"

He let out a chuckle, harsh and booming as it was, but never stopped in his task. "Ya could say dat. Jus' had ta deal wit' Tehzeth 'for she tried something stupid." I nodded in response. I could make a guess as to who it was he was talking about, probably that Death Knight that 'talked' with me back in the Tundra. "Ya here for' ah reason? 'Cause Tzo'zi needs ta pray." There mainly was annoyance in his voice, and I could tell that trying to make any 'small talk' or similar would be the wrong move.

Straight to business then, which suited me just fine. "You need anything for your camp, or are you good, Tzo'zi?"

He placed his helm on before straightening up, an audible crack sounding as he looked down at me, and once more, I stood my ground under that gaze. Satisfied, he looked away to grab his two axes, slipping the two onto his back before looking back at me. "Need some stone wit' da mojo." … What? "Da stuff ya be using for dat wall be good. Dat all Tzo'zi and da Corrupted Blood need."

… Alright, he needs magic stone, and apparently, what I was using was magic stone, to some degree anyway. Good to know, and easy enough to get for him, it'd probably help me to get on his better side, getting him some as soon as possible. "I'll let them know to earmark some of it for you." He gave a nod in response and stalked away, ostensibly to pray, so I turned on my heel and left back for the Harbor proper, Thessa padding along behind me.

"It is unwise for them to be outside the Harbor walls, too much ground to cover." I shrugged at Thessa's statement since even if it was a correct assessment when it came down to it, I really had no control over Tzo'zi and his Knights beyond giving them direction when I was going out and fighting. What they did outside of that was their own prerogative and not something I could afford to meddle with lest I receive the same treatment as Valanar had.

"Look at it this way, they want the fight to come to them, and anyone trying to get in thinking the gap in the wall they occupy is going to be easier?" I shook my head, "If they want to be bait, let them." Thessa let the matter drop, and so we returned to the Harbor without something else outlandish happening. Something I was thankful for given the recent days.

Stopping only to tell Heinrich to have some stone delivered to the Corrupted Blood camp, I searched for a new room with all haste due to everything finally being done. I didn't feel like meditating in a room with a hung Demon in it. Thessa left shortly after we reached the Cathedral, disappearing off somewhere for a reason I didn't pry into, leaving me to walk alone.

I finally let a content smile grace my face as the major tasks I had left to do were finished or delegated for others to complete. It didn't take long to find another, smaller prayer sanctum. It was good as any other as I situated myself on the altar to meditate. After at least a week, I could finally correlate [Data] in peace! I felt giddy at the prospect. The only thing left to do before that was to check up on Partner… seeing as she was utterly drunk the last I checked on her.

She'd want to be 'sober for this. There was just so much to try out with conceptual forces. So once more, I sat down and meditated, closing my eyes and waiting patiently for myself to arrive in the Tether.

I opened my eyes to a changed world.

The mist that once obscured the ground was still here, but everything else… I was now on a reasonably sized straight pathway. But... on each side of the pathway was row after row of simple gravestones. Worn, faded, and in some cases crumbling, they went on as far as I could see. At first, I walked along the path to see where it went… but it never ended. No matter how long it felt like I walked, there was always another row of gravestones to greet me on the mist-filled horizon.

I trod off the beaten path and began to follow the row of graves to see if I could identify them, but no, it was impossible. No matter how many graves I inspected. All of them were too faded, too worn.

And they never ended.

An unending world of graves. Partner said that this place would adopt manifestations of our existence, memories, personalities… What did such a place say about me?

I shook my head, now wasn't the time to wallow. I had things to do. I had to get to Partner, and once I thought that, I had a niggling feeling.

Acting on it, I turned around before halting at the sudden change of scenery and looking at the floor curiously. Crystal like that of Queen's throne had replaced it. It was prismatic and reflected the light of the stars above in a way that could only be described as mesmerizing. It was only then that I looked up and realized there were now stars in the sky. I dragged my gaze away before I ended up standing there entranced and instead looked towards the center to where my Partner should be.

Which led me to see the beginning of what looked like a structure rising out of the same crystal. It was just high enough that I couldn't see over the top of it, but not high enough to where I couldn't see th-

Above the structure hung a star, so close I could practically see its fiery composition rather than its pure white surface. Once I looked away, I noticed the hundreds of balls of light flitting about entering and exiting the structure at speed, bonking themselves into grand crystal formations. I see why Partner had been so distant recently.

Marching straight up to the crystal wall, I barely noticed as a doorway shifted into being for me to enter through, more focused on figuring out what Queen had done since I came here last. The gravestones, fine. The stars and crystals, fine. The White Dwarf hanging above us, looking far too close for comfort? Fuck no.

The inside of the structure was worse than the outside. The 'lights' were darting all over through air, whispering... things, was the best I could describe since being bombarded with sights, scents, sounds, and sensations left little room to comprehend the hell was going on, as they went. In the middle of this madness, Partner was acting like it was an orchestra, waving her hand erratically as one of the 'lights' followed her motions and went into one of the several crystal pillars decorating the room.

As I got closer, I heard parts of her mutterings under her breath but didn't pay much mind to them as I slowed my march down. Coming to a stop only a few paces away from her, I looked up at the 'lights' again, one coming close enough for me to reach ou-

"Halt." I startled at the abrupt interruption, my hand jerking back from the crystalline 'light' as it darted away into one of the pillars. Looking over at Partner, I found her giving me a dull-eyed stare even as her body continued doing whatever task this was, a suffering sigh released before turning her head back to the sky. "Mental Model comparison… Error, insufficient data. Adjusting for current projections… Error, insufficient data. Note, Mental Model showing discrepancies, [Corrupt Data] present. Queuing Error Suppression… Assigning High Priority." She blinked, and some light returned to her eyes. "Please refrain from touching anything; I am currently operating at estimated peak capacity. I don't want to see what happens if you interrupt."

An eyebrow rose at her statement, and I replied before she got engrossed in her task again. "What would happen if I had?"

"Current hypothesis is Mental Model suspension as raw [DATA] is interpreted and incorporated." At my look of confusion, she paused and tried to explain it to me again. "You'd be comatose on the ground waiting for the information contained in the faerie to finish playing out." I... Okay, and how- "Which could take anywhere from an hour to several days." That...is not ideal. But was she really not going to even let me- "No." I gave her a flat look.

She had a slight grin on her face after that. It didn't reach her eyes. But I now understood a little about what she was doing and how exhausting and draining it was. At least I had good news to share with her that would make this more tolerable. "I see. At the very least, we'll be able to work on magic shortly after you're done." Her head whipped around so fast a crack echoed out. Partner gave it no mind as she leveled an intense, yearning gaze straight at me that I was sure would have made most any other individual quail and back away.

Instead, I just stood there with a smile as she got back to her work with fervor, 'fairies' flying into pillars one after the other with such speed I got a headache watching them whiz by.

It was fascinating, and if I went by what she said, each ball of light contained an obscene level of information. Yet, she was seemingly organizing them by the hundreds per second. It was a true marvel of a light show to watch. But…

I waited. I glanced at Partner and waited longer. I opened my mouth- "The reason I have to organize this is due to our new quantum-suspension superposition metaphysical nature of massless energy separate from the current reality phase."

I glared at her, "And in a language that isn't constructed specifically to sound pretentious?"

I couldn't help but notice that as she laughed in response, it echoed perfectly through the room. I shook my head, of course, she would. That was so like L-. I shook my head. "That is actually the best way I can put it." I refocused on her. Her orchestration of the Thousand Lights hadn't halted but perhaps had slowed. "I don't know where we are. I don't know what we are. We produce but do not consume. We exist but…"

She paused, clearly unsure how to word something. When I thought about it, I guess I could understand. We did sort of… switch on when Kel'Thuzad had found us. What were we before?

"This… Twisting Nether that the lich claimed to 'fish' us from. We need to know more about it, especially if Mal'Ganis is to be believed about this… [DISORDER] or 'Fel' as he identified it. I do not like it." She was making a face as if she had eaten a whole lemon. I didn't blame her. That magic hurt to look at… and get hit by.

"Hrm, it seems the natives to the planet have some level of natural resistance, or perhaps we were vulnerable to it? The latter is worrying." She nodded along. It made sense, after all. That purplish shadow magic he used didn't seem very effective, but it was something he was confident in. "The natives of this planet must be susceptible to that magic he followed up with," I turned to Partner, "what was that, by the way? All I had was a sense of vertigo for a moment."

I was hoping for answers, but she looked just as confused as me by it. "I'm not sure. It felt like the depths of space." I nodded. I suppose feeling like you're floating in space would be awful and disorienting for a medieval fantasy mortal.

"Seems both Fel and whatever that shadow stuff was should be sidelined for now. Not worth the danger or time, respectively." Partner nodded in agreement. Her enthusiasm for magic was dulled considerably for both. "Oh, have you had any insights for Death recently?"

The lights that swirled around us had slowed significantly as she looked at me with confusion. "Taylor… I ceased all but background calculations for that avenue of research. Your understanding has far surpassed mine." The lights began to pick up the pace once more as I jolted in surprise from that.

"What- but-" I… huh. Now that I think about it, Partner hasn't been behind my recent innovations. On the one hand, I enjoyed the mental rush at the power being mine, not something given to me but something I created and leveraged myself. On the other hand... That power was Death, and my leverage of it was born of my intimate knowledge and familiarity with it.

It brought me back to the Unending Graveyard.

The nigh endless rows of worn and decrepit gravestones.

Ping! I flinched back at the sudden ringing from the faerie in front of me. "May I offer you a language in this trying time?"

I looked at her curiously. She seemed sincere if a little embarrassed. "What?"

The faerie bobbed in front of my face, the light should be blinding, yet it wasn't. "The Faerie contains the links to 'Common' and 'Thalassian'. Touch it, and you can begin to learn the language."

Oh, that was... cool. If a little convenient. "How does this exist?"

She waved it off, the many lights swinging around her as she did so. "The souls I consumed after you performed live experimentation in your last conflict contained the knowledge. I've been hard at work breaking it all down, organizing it, and comparing it against each other to gauge how much is common vs esoteric knowledge as well as using references to see what might be factual and what was a delusion."

….Huh. Well. I reached out for it- "I suppose its better than wa-"

"𝔸 𝕡𝕣𝕖𝕤𝕖𝕟𝕔𝕖... 𝕊𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕟𝕖𝕨, 𝕪𝕖𝕥... 𝕐𝕖𝕤... 𝕎𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕖𝕪𝕖𝕤 𝕨𝕚𝕕𝕖 𝕤𝕙𝕦𝕥, 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕡𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕤 𝕤𝕡𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝕠𝕦𝕥. 𝔽𝕠𝕣 𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕕𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕙 𝕤𝕙𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕓𝕖𝕘𝕖𝕥 𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕟 𝕕𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕙 𝕞𝕒𝕪 𝕕𝕚𝕖."

I found myself waking up a week later, inexplicably knowing that I now knew how to speak both Common and the Blood Elf language- Thalassian. While I was a smidge miffed at suddenly losing a whole week's worth of time, it couldn't be helped. As after all, if I could learn any language in exchange for losing about three days? Worth it.

But I moved on, what is done is done. It was time to check on my other outposts.

Stepping out into the snow-filled wasteland that was my 'port', I found it to be in a similar frenzy of work and motion that the Harbor had been. Onslaught moved piles of material from what appeared to be partially completed warehouses towards the hole I had burrowed down to the seaside, while others were busy erecting other buildings whose purpose eluded me. Far into the distance, I could see another building taking shape, the wooden skeleton standing proudly next to the mountain.

What did catch my eye was the only fully constructed section of this entire camp. It was a squat and thick gatehouse, and while it didn't have gates yet, it looked imposing as it and the attached walls - which were just as thick - plugged the valley entrance to the plateau. The fact I could even make out that much through the eternal blizzard said quite a bit about the structure. I had to admit. In the future, it would almost certainly be one hell of an obstacle to surmount. The only worry I had about it and the harbor's construction was enemy shamans, or other unknown magics, crumbling the walls… But I reminded myself I had skilled architects and stonemasons who had lived in this world, a world that had seen so much magical war, so they likely had adapted just as we had on Earth to build disaster-resistant buildings.

The only real issue now was my lack of manpower, meaning I needed more Undead as I really doubted I would get any living allies anytime soon. I was unsure if I should go back and retrieve the thousands of Undead I left in the Borean Tundra. Then I shook my head, no, I wouldn't. There was a bit much to deal with at the moment, and besides, if I was going to be recruiting more Undead, it would be sentient ones. Cannon fodder was useless to me for what I needed them for.

Aside from that, there was little else that I could immediately see in the way of progress. Granted it had started as a barren waste last I had been here, so the improvement was big.

The crunching of snow dragged my thoughts and attention to whoever was approaching. I saw it was one of the 'civilians' in the Onslaught. He was average beyond the light blue glow of his half-lidded eyes, plain worker clothes that you'd expect out of any farmer or woodsmen, a pickaxe slung lazily over his shoulders. "Pleasure seein' you here, Lady Wraith. Here for inspection?"

Blunt and to the point… I remembered him vaguely from before the trip to Crystalsong initially, but little else. "I am." I gave a show of looking around a bit more before turning back to him. "Are there any plans on expansion later on?"

He gave a shrug, lazily lifting the tool off his shoulder and striking it into the ground. "Not much. Few more storehouses, gate up top, finish the mine and build the wall to the south." Leaning forward onto the pickaxe, he stalled for a moment and mimed a yawn, and the only reason I knew that was because Undead didn't get tired, and he seemed the type to look lazy even if he was giving his all. "'Course, Harbor'll be done before we get going over here. Got the basics done and it'll be 'nuff till then."

I nodded in response, looking towards the gatehouse in the distance and the… other settlement I had further beyond it for a good while before replying. "I will leave it to you then." He inclined his head minutely, hefting his pickaxe back onto his shoulder and walking away without another word, leaving me with only one last thing to check up on.

The... Priestess and the actual resource gathering point. I wasn't looking forward to the unnerving serenity, but it was necessary.

Sighing, I gathered up Death in my arm before shaping it into the gateway, envisioning the place I left them in Crystalsong, for as good as it would help me instinctively knowing they'd made changes to the site. I could only hope for a quick trip, with minimal events… knowing myself, though I wasn't holding out hope.

Another sigh before I walked through the gateway, leaving the unfinished port behind again.

In contrast to the port or harbor, my last base was seemingly entirely constructed with root-like walls with mostly squat, sickly green trees serving as 'buildings'. But now that I looked around, it felt desolate. No stream of workers, patrols, or even idling Dryads or Satyrs.

The trees had grown into the rock and sprouted amidst the snow… except they looked like they were dying husks, with their gnarled and blackened exterior, looking so brittle a breeze would break every tree, yet leaves sprouted and gave them a life they shouldn't have. What unnerved me was the addition of ghastly purple smog seeping out of the trees' broken sections, adding an oppressive and unnatural feel to the whole place.

That didn't take into account that several of the trees were absolutely giant. I had no idea how the Dryads had managed to grow something this big, let alone multiple of them, in the time since I left them, but I had a feeling it was based on their own magic coupled with the norm of being an undead creature. I'd have to ask about the process soon, especially with my lack of 'work' leaving me with free time. Nature magic just felt too interesting with the potential it had.

… Which meant I'd have to actually talk with one of the Dryads, understand what they were saying, and weather the Master levels of devotion they had towards Partner and me. Joy.

That thought, in turn, provoked the question of where they all were. The outpost was practically deserted despite the amount of life in it, sickly and cursed that it looked, and I couldn't hear a single thing around me which made the place even more unnerving. Sure there weren't that many of them when I had left, but I expected one or two to still be around and doing something here that I could see.

As if to immediately counter my doubts, one of my Dryads frolicked out from behind one of the trees, which made the entire thing unnerving given the backdrop, looking about until her eyes rested on me. The immediate realization hit her, and she swiftly 'charged' across the bleak ground to, somehow, slam into me, giggling happily as she hugged me tight… "Savior! You're back! We didn't know when you'd be back! Priestess said you were doing something special, but we wanted you back sooner!"

I wouldn't ever get used to this…

My smile was strained as I pat her on the back, having learned from my struggles last time. "Yes. I am here." I stopped patting her on the back and instead uncomfortably stood there as the Dryad contently nuzzled into my chest, pure joy lighting her spectral features. "If you do not mind, where are the rest of your… sisters and the... Priestess?" She pulled back, thankfully letting me go in the process, and bounded about excitedly as a gleam entered her eyes… which made me slightly more uncomfortable than when she was hugging me.

"They're off in the forest looking for more of the Lost to bring back. We've been holding the ones we bring back down in the Burrows." Her smile brightened considerably, and I could even imagine her eyes sparkling as she clasped her hands together with a giggle. "Now that you're here, they can have the madness lifted and go back to normal!" … I doubted 'normal' was what they would go back to when I ripped out their souls but arguing with a fanatical Dryad exposed to Partner...

I had stuff I wanted to do. Wasting time arguing pointlessly with them was counterproductive. Besides, this increased my forces with acceptable targets and with the number of troops I saw from the Horde and Alliance. Even if I had hang-ups over it, I needed more troops.

That didn't mean I was… entirely on board with the idea, especially when I knew what the outcome produced. But… apparently, existing as a 'Lost' was so torturous that they celebrated someone who was their conceptual polar opposite as their Savior.

With a sigh and gesture for the Dryad to lead the way, the spectral being happily nodded her head and turned about, practically exuding radiant joy in every movement she did, trotting towards the tree she had just come around. With only a slight pause, I followed after her, keeping some distance between the two of us as she led me around the tree and… towards a hole at the tree's base?

She did say burrows, but I wasn't expecting something so… crude.

The 'entrance' was more or less exactly like the dens that wild animals made, created out of packed dirt with decrepit roots lining the 'walls'. It was hidden decently if one wasn't looking for it despite being big enough that I could stand tall and not come close to the 'ceiling'. If the base here was actually underground, as was implied with calling them Burrows, it was no wonder I saw absolutely nothing beyond cursed-looking trees above.

After entering the Burrow, I was immediately confronted with something that made this base better and worse. Two branching tunnels laid before me, and without the Dryad leading me, I knew without a doubt that I would become irrevocably lost. Such notion was only reinforced as more tunnels split from the one we followed, off to the left-right, up, further down… This place was more of a labyrinth than a set of burrows.

I heard the laughter and giggling long ways away before I actually saw any other Dryads, which was far more effective at unnerving me than the lack of anything but tunnels and roots trying to take my head off. I was finally led into a cavern of sorts, roughly hewn from the frozen dirt and stone, the hows I wasn't going to question just yet, with two 'floors' carved out. Here I finally found a portion of the forces, going about and seemingly just wandering about.

The Dryads I saw were on the 'ground floor', five of them scattered throughout with only two anywhere near each other, and I only found one of my Satyrs above, tromping across a 'bridge' of dirt, stone, and root of questionable integrity towards another tunnel. One of the lounging Dryads spotted me near immediately and let out a joyful sound, and in what seemed like an instant, the rest were scattered around me, bounding around with unbridled enthusiasm and energy. Beyond making contented sighs, giggles, and laughter, none of the Dryads said a thing, making me even more uncomfortable with the situation.

Steeling myself, I selected one of the six randomly and looked directly at her, stopping the rest's bounding excitement and chattering and leaving me able to speak without any interruption. "Tell me… Are any of you familiar with 'Dreadlords?'" The moment the last word was uttered, the jubilant air shattered into pieces, leaving me with six angry revenants instead of jovial Dryads. Well then. I suppose that answers that question.

"Had a run-in with a Master of Intrigue, have you?" Before a single one could say a word, the Satyr above called out, my gaze quickly moving to him, the crystal making up his body cracked but still not hiding or disrupting the smirk I could feel he had. "Assholes, the lot of them. Don't know how you met one with the Legion banished." … I had questions, but one at a time and hopefully without the Satyr being too much of an ass.

"He was in charge of the Scarlet Onslaught." He gave no reaction to the name, just a lazy, smug look that told me he probably enjoyed the idea of me looking up to him to talk to him. The Dryads scattered back to what they had been doing prior, a noticeable cloud surrounding them where there had been joy and merriment. Since the name apparently meant little to the Satyr - which made some sense when I thought about it - given that the Scarlets were only here recently…

Hold on, how did I know that?

…

I shook my head. A question for later, focus on the Dreadlord now. "Group of religious, fanatical humans that want to genocide all Undead." He gave a chuckle at that, waving dismissively as he stalked away towards the tunnel next to him.

"Simple-minded fools are easy prey for the Dreadlords." A distinct cracking sound echoed out as the Satyr moved its arm, flakes of dust drifting down in its wake before continuing. "Taking the skin of their leader, it's painfully easy to twist them to the Dreadlord's will and plans."

"While I'd love to stick around and chat, Master." … Ignore it. He's doing it on purpose for a reaction. "The Fanatic left me behind to make sure her kin didn't get out." He turned away fully and started marching into the tunnel, his parting muttering heard quickly with the lack of noise. "Right ass bitches…"

… Ignoring that.

I turned back to the initial Dryad, her expression locked in a rictus of annoyance and hate that… really didn't belong to her or any other Dryad. "You mentioned 'the Lost' up above. I assume a few are being kept somewhere here." My words snapped the Dryad out of her 'funk' instantly, immediately reverting to her happy persona and giggling with wild abandon.

She didn't say a word, taking my hand in her spectral ones and pulling me along like I was a lost child, which wasn't too off the mark considering the labyrinth I was in. Finally, after what felt like hours and dozens upon dozens of tunnels and caverns carved through the dirt and stone, when eventually my guide announced with a happy cheer. "We're here!".

It was another chamber that looked similar to several of the others, one 'floor' with multiple tunnels leading off to who knew where, brittle, blackened roots hanging out of the ceiling casting deep shadows across the entire cavern from whatever light source was in here. What caught my eye was not that, but rather the roots that were binding the numerous Crystal Dryads and Satyrs, both of which were struggling to get out of the, apparently, tough bindings of those blackened roots. Prancing forward, my Dryad excitedly moved over to the nearest Crystal Dryad and started whispering things that were too faint to my ears, but they got a reaction out of the corrupted Dryad if the redoubled struggling was any indication.

Looking around further, I found the Satyr from earlier, or a Satyr given I couldn't tell if it was the same one, performing a ritual of some kind at the side of the cavern, where a ghost was bound in roots… except those specific ones glowed with sickly green runes like the Felfire the Demon threw at me a week ago. Now it made sense why the Satyrs were here, as I doubted these roots, strong as they apparently were, could hold a ghost that possibly just phased through anything purely physical.

That said… there had to be at least a hundred creatures bound here, if not more. I steeled myself and walked forward with resignation, Death coalescing into a limb as I neared the first Dryad, its struggling increasing further.

I plunged my 'hand' into its chest, gripped tight upon its soul as it stilled.

And pulled.

greysongarr · Aug 1, 2021

Grey AN: This chapter is brought to you by Kirby chasing me while a duck yelled at me.
The first section took about a month or so to make. The second section took a few days.
That is all from Grey.
Sneaky AN: we got distracted by our new story 'And Hell Came With Her', a Tanya the Evil/Kancolle crossover, *I* got distracted by bbcode - I hope you guys enjoy it. I also got cripplingly sick from my chronic illness, which was a majority of the delay.
Grey: Said story awaits Sneaky's looking over and input before we can send it out. It's a fun time though~
Sneaky: I ended up rewriting and adding quite a bit, so hopefully it's worth the wait…
Grey: Another 24 pages were added in the editing process.

Consider this following chapter's special effects to be a manga equivalent of colored pages. Rare, and almost not worth the effort.

I didn't know how long I was down in the Barrows, but I felt mentally exhausted by the time I finished and returned to the surface. Of course, I had to be led by three of my Dryads. My new minions were… acclimating down below, and I needed a breath of fresh air away from them for the moment. The Satyrs were assholes as normal and weren't too much of a problem, the Elves were… slightly worse with the fervor they showed, but it was the Dryads that were the issue.

… Too much affection. Far, far too much.

I paid exceptional attention this time when freeing their souls from their crystalline prisons, but what I had feared proved false. On one hand, I was happy that I wasn't accidentally Mastering more people, but… I knew enough about psychology to be disturbed by the results that freeing them induced. While I wouldn't even try to put Earth Bet Human psychology on how a manifestation of fantasy nature on a distant planet would act… To show such warped affection, such… obsession for someone that ended their torment even if it was done using the magical antithesis to their very nature…

I glanced at the prancing ghostly dryads. They were broken on a fundamental level and I doubted that I would gain any goodwill if their living brethren discovered them.

These three were still affectionate but were currently more preoccupied with playing amongst themselves than showering me with their offputting affection. Which suited me fine since it let me figure out my next course of action without being interrupted too often.

Now that I had seen to my territories, my first order of business was learning more magic. Either through conducting tests with Cosmic and Death magic, or learning something new through the Dryads and Satyrs. Out of all of them, the prospect of new magic excited me the most, which meant picking either the Dryads or Satyrs as 'mentors' for this. And of those two, the easier and more productive… was unfortunately talking to the fanatical Dryads.

While the Satyrs had far more to teach me, at least two different types of magic given the displays I'd seen and possibly insights to others... However, they were also assholes who would give me as little of the basics as they could to watch me flounder for their amusement. And as much as I wanted to say that I'd force them to teach me, that would just get the same result, only then they would look for ways to undermine me. Also, Fel magic. I wasn't going to touch that stuff until I learned more about it. The Dryads at least would try their best considering their devotion… it was just a question of if I was capable, and if they could teach me.

I closed my eyes and hummed in thought, only to immediately be brought out of my musing when I heard one of the Dryads bound up to me giggling. Blinking my eyes open, I looked down at her, raising an eye at the now suddenly nervous undead. "Umm… I- We! We have a question, savior!" Eh? I blinked again, tilting my head to the side in confusion before she continued with increasing panic. "So before the Priestess left, I and a few others were playing around up here. W-we wanted to make a wreath for you and started growing flowers to pick."

That was… kind? I didn't really understand the point of her telling me this, but I wasn't going to interrupt her. Not when I knew that doing so would make the conversation end up even more long-winded.

She continued, unaware of my internal thoughts as she stammered through. "W-well… we tried growing flowers… but everything just kept refusing to grow!" … Well, that was… interesting? It gave me a bunch of questions… but not a single answer to what I was wanting to know. "We can make trees just fine… even if they are basically dead, but the flowers keep wilting immediately. So we figured that we need to be alive again to make flowers again. I really, really, really want you to have a wreath…"

… Well. Shit. This was not how I wanted to start this conversation. I guess it saves me the effort of broaching the topic though.

It did tell me one thing at least, that for these dryads Nature magic was tied to their state of being, which made sense to a degree. A dead creature could not create something alive… Which was fine with some plants as evidenced by the trees and roots below, but for flowers and similar plants, which were distinguished by their fragility, there wouldn't be a chance of growth when they'd just wilt immediately.

It made me curious, though, if Nature magic was so easily influenced. Holy, Cosmic, Ice… even Necromantic magics all seemed to stay consistent. However, Nature was a… distilled form of Life, so I guess it would make sense that it would be affected, unlike the others. I wonder then, how someone like me would wield Nature magic.

Regardless of my thoughts, it'd be quite a luxury to have living Dryads helping me. Given that this was a fantasy world, there were bound to be quite a few herbs with magical properties. However, I didn't know what plants these were or their properties, let alone the actual process to make magical items and portions out of them. But... the Dryads might, and even if they didn't I'm sure I could find someone to assist me…

Regardless, I had to shelve that for the moment because not only could I not grow them but the Dryads needed to not be ghosts to do it. Which meant I had to find some way to… bring them back to life, whatever was 'alive' for them. Meaning I needed to understand how they were 'born', for lack of better words. "If you need to be alive to grow these plants… I need to know how you were created."

The Dryad blinked her eyes, before understanding seemingly passed through them. "Oh. Well…" She glanced to the side and started looking around as if searching for something… exactly what I had no idea as the minds of Dryads were mysterious things. Eventually, she gave up and looked back at me, continuing with a bit of hesitation. "We kinda… are grown like trees. A Druid comes by and gives us sacred water while whispering to us."

… I didn't know what I was expecting, but that was a bit out there. And entirely unhelpful.

Fantastic.

Though, it did make some sense given what I knew about forest spirits in general from my past reading. The main thing that threw me was the Druids and their role in the 'birth' of the Dryads, I'd have thought it was completely natural, but apparently, I was wrong in that thought. That led to other questions, such as what counted as 'sacred water', and what were the Druids saying to them… Obviously, magic was involved, if it was Druids I can make the safe assumption of it being Nature magic. Yet, that only built a checklist and left me at square one still.

Now I knew I wasn't going to get the answers I needed from the dryads… but an effort had to be made as anything was more than nothing. "How exactly are you… grown? What do the Druids say, what kind of water is used, and anything else relating to that?"

This time the Dryad didn't look anywhere near as nervous as she answered my questions, her smile coming back in force as the other two went off and did… something. "Well, the Druids talk about the world around us. What we're supposed to be doing and anything really special nearby." She paused in thought, "It was after I was born but I remember whispers telling me about a World Tree to the East. Maybe we can go and see it in the future!" A faraway look entered her eyes as she sighed, remembering a better time fondly before shaking her head of the thought when I cleared my throat, a nervous giggle slipping out.

"A-anyway. After the Druids are done with all of that, they give us a drop of Moonwater…" Moonwater? On one hand, good to know that I couldn't just use regular water from the lake nearer to the glacier, on the other… What the hell was Moonwater? "... and then we sprout to maturity!" Eh, that was it?

That was… kinda tame by fantasy settings, and even some mythologies. Seeds that are given a special kind of water, and taught about the world by their caretakers… It was so simple. And yet, without Nature magic, so completely out of reach.

So let's work in reverse, first up is 'Moonwater', I… actually think I might know how to make it. Earlier, I suspected that the moon's association with purity was a thing that could be magically manifested, but it made sense to feed a spirit of nature the purest water possible since Nature magic seemed to be heavily affected by the state of the user. That was… something I actually could make. Probably.

Next up is information. I likely could do that too, if the… eugh, Priestess was able to actually draw on Partner for magic, it shows that I can form connections just… I have absolutely no idea how.

The final box on the checklist is the Nature magic and the seed, asking the dryad wouldn't tell me anything as I doubt there was some 'Seed of Dryad' out there. More than likely it was Nature-blessed seeds, modified Blasto-style with Nature magic to grow the dryads… But, surely Dryads existed before Druids, right? Nobody just goes: "Yeah hey, I really love nature but what would make it better is scantily clad women that are preppy and half deer."

Actually. No. Scratch that. I can definitely name people that would do that.

Okay, well. I'm going to pretend that isn't their origin or, at the very least, that they are normally capable of self-replication. But it all hinged on one thing. Can enough Nature magic be used by either of us to grow the seed?

For me specifically, the answer was probably no, considering I was suffused with enough Death that I knew it more intrinsically than Partner, by her words. I could attempt it, and there was the possibility, however minuscule, that it would work, but there was no telling what kind of backlash or monstrosity that I'd make out of it. The best-case scenario was whatever came out was dead and stayed dead. 'Or,' I thought, 'Whatever comes out will be of Death and create Death.'

Which left the Nature part of the magic to the Dryads or possibly even a ghost Druid, who could probably do it… in a way. If they made seeds for new bodies, I could focus on the other aspects of the 'growing process', namely the Moonwater. The first point of business was figuring out how to make it, given the name it had something to do with the moon, which meant some level of Cosmic magic was needed for water to become Moonwater. The exact process would require experimentation, but that was something that could wait until it was time to actually try making it. Priestess might know...

The second thing to do… was actually getting a source of water set up here. Undead didn't need water, meaning there wasn't a pool, reservoir, or well able to hold water. In turn meaning that for this I needed to have my undead create a spot somewhere for storing water, and then have them go collect water to put into said storage. A lengthy process since the only source of water I knew of was possibly miles away, but it wasn't like I was doing anything else at the moment.

Breaking out of my thoughts I looked down at the Dryad waiting nervously for me to say something in response… I did just ignore her for a good few minutes thinking, so it was understandable. "Are you able to make these seeds?" My question caught her off guard, but she rallied quickly and slowly nodded her head, almost as if she was unsure of her own answer. It shouldn't be too hard, seeds are actually very hardy. "Then I want several of those made. I will also need a well of water built."

Her eyes widened as I finished, hope and glee filling them as her nervousness died completely. The Dryad gave a quick, "We'll get to immediately, Savior!" and galloped to the other two, talking briefly and animatedly before those two left in a hurry in different directions while the one I'd been talking to bounded away in a third direction.

With the Dryads now busy, the Satyrs crossed out, and my unwillingness to muck about with Death in the middle of my tree-based Vanguard, that left one option of experimentation.

Cosmic magic.

It was more Partner's domain than it was mine, but I was starting to get some insight into its workings. There were two main types with the theoretical third - Solar, Lunar, and Stellar - respectively - each of which had their own benefits and drawbacks making them situational to use.

Solar was by far the most powerful of the two, expected given the source behind it, and if used with enough magic behind it carried some properties of the sun itself, burning and scorching through everything. Purification thy name is fire. So far my issue with it was the immense drain and slow casting speed it had compared to Lunar… but besides the addition of burning something with fire and leaving flames behind, there was little to it beyond pure strength. In essence, the Solar aspect of Cosmic magic was brute force, plain and simple.

… Which made sense considering what I'd done to the Alliance Fleet back at the Tundra.

The other was Lunar magic, seemingly being both strong and fast in equal measures. The main draw to it was its conceptual weight, which stayed with it regardless of how much magic was thrown into it. Maybe it was the closeness of the moons? Or possibly something to do with the Faith of an entire species concerning the moon. Regardless, its properties of purification were evident. Granted, I hadn't seen the purification's full effects yet, but looking back on it I did feel something from the areas that have been Moon-blasted.

The main drawback to the Lunar aspect was the cost of it, from my retroactive estimates it easily kept pace with Solar despite doing far less in the way of damage for the comparable cost. That led me to wonder if power and concept were the main drivers of the cost of a given spell, and what the exact nature of said spell would be. I wouldn't know without extensive testing, or somehow getting into a lesson or debate with someone knowledgeable in magical theory. It'd be an enjoyable experience I thought, but there were rather few individuals I knew of with that knowledge… and I'd be fine not being near them again unless necessary. I doubt I was going to convince a living Druid to pop a squat and chat with me about the intricate and precise nature of their magic. Well, I assumed Druids would be the most knowledgeable about Cosmic magics. As, after all, much of nature is affected by the stellar bodies.

Finally was my theorized third. Stellar. My theory was if you could pull on the Sun or Moon for weight to your spell, there was nothing stopping you, theoretically, from pulling on the general idea of stars in the sky, or should I say Stellar Bodies. Planets, moons, stars, comets, asteroids… Everything and anything. I suspect that due to its diffuse general concept that it theoretically would carry less weight but that would give it more room for speed and power. I would be able to lightly borrow concepts across the board, nothing powerful but still… If I could pull it off it would provide me with spells that aren't made for mass slaughter.

Anyway, I wasn't getting anywhere just pondering. I stretched before moving to the cliff face overlooking the forest below, taking in the beautiful sight before I started getting ready for my tests.

The types of spells I had access to, at the moment, for Cosmic magics were unfortunately very... limited in scope, for the moment. There was the Bombardment spell, which was easily the most destructive spell I had access to, calling in what was literally an orbital bombardment from the heavens. Also, the longest to cast and most draining on my magic, but its power was worth those limitations. I doubted the drain could be dealt with in any way, but if I could get better at casting or familiarizing myself with spells, I could probably shave a good portion of the casting time. I suspect that the higher 'tiers' of spells that don't belong to Death will forever be limited to me in a sort of way.

I was… I took an unnecessary breath. I was made of magic now. I had a sneaking feeling that if I tried to force a familiarity with other branches of magic it would be like live-modifying my personality and DNA.

Just a thought, supported by the supposed effects of using Fel-based magics, but it begged further examination and experimentation after I finished my current project.

Back on track, the second was the Strikes, a much more… targeted approach comparatively, being a narrow beam from the heavens instead of wide-area destruction from Bombardments. Far less destructive, a given considering the scale involved, but it made up for it by being more accurate comparatively. And while it started with less casting time and cost than a Bombardment, I suspect that I could scale it to do precision targeting across a wide area for multiple targets with minimal increase to cast time.

I doubted it would ever be as effective as I wished it to be against creatures on the same level as Sigvaldir. Anything short of a damn nuclear blast barely phases the Hyper Zombie Viking.

Lastly was -Fire spells. A pending name for an unorthodox branch of spell variant compared to others, in which I theoretically shoot the spell from my hand like a Blaster instead of raining beams from the sky. It was my hope that it would be far faster, at the cost of less power and a mediocre drain on my mana. Also, it was my hope that it would be more spammable, something to use to interrupt others. I don't think I would get much more use out of such a spell, my Deathbolts, the Death equivalent of this branch, already covered the lethality niche. However, now that I think about it there is no real reason I had to shoot either from my hand, there was nothing theoretically stopping me from creating multiple casting points.

Hrm, another thing to add to the list.

In total, I had two very different kinds of magic at my disposal, with a possible third… but there was a critical thing I was missing. I had power plenty, outside of dealing with blatant bullshit, as my Death magic could generally kill anything it hit, and my Cosmic spells could scale up to a mini-nuke.

And that was before I combined the two if I got pushed far enough into a corner.

The issue… was that they were powerful, but they were also rather easy to dodge. The wind-up of my Bombardment and Strikes meant that if someone was fast enough, they could get out of the strike area before my spell even landed. Which, the vast majority of people wouldn't be able to, unless there were the ones that were an actual threat to me. And while my Deathbolts generally could kill near anything it hit… Most of the time that was overkill and with the living nations now invading, minimizing casualties was important.

What I needed was something that I could use that was both fast enough to hit Mover-like targets and powerful enough to take down Brute-likes with some level of reliability that wasn't an OHKO. A side goal would be ensuring that whatever it was didn't cost too much mana so I could conserve my reserves for important fights. Because, if there was anything I was taking from my experiences, it was that this world absolutely followed the Rules of Cool and Drama Demands It.

My option for such a spell was limited to Cosmic unless I went into Decay magic which I'd rather not use. Sure, it was effective, but it did nothing that Death couldn't do better… and cleaner. The Decay magic I had encountered so far would have given Glenn an aneurysm trying to spin it for good PR. On top of that, there was something… off with it.

The problem I currently had with Cosmic was their cost was incredibly high for both Solar and Lunar spells, and they currently hit very, very hard. The -Fire variant was only currently hypothetical. It was also hypothetically easy to make, as I already have the general design for a Bolt type. I just needed to… match the American stereotype and turn that semi-auto into a full-auto. For Stellar magic, however, I needed to… dilute the concepts I pulled on to somehow form it into something more 'broad'.

My first thought was to just mix Solar and Lunar energy, and so that's what I started with. After all, they were both of the same types of magic. Cosmic energy filled my arm with starry light as I set about creating a new spell for myself. I called forth as little of the magic in my limb as possible and attempted to mix both together. Then, I attempted to send forth a bolt of the combined energy out into the air, just to test whether the concept would work.

… I waited a good ten seconds with nothing happening before pulling my arm back with my eyes narrowed in thought, tilting my head as I stared at my arm before trying again. This time I put more energy into the spell, as that was almost certainly the problem I was currently faced with, and forcefully thrust my arm out forcing something to happen. It would be irritating if this ended up being a dud, I didn't have the time to practice entirely new branches of magic… unless I-

I got a few sparks flying into the air this time, crackling and popping like discount fireworks before quickly fading away. This time I was able to see exactly what happened, the Solar and Lunar energies repelled each other as soon as I stopped attempting to force them together. This resulted in the 'spell' tearing itself away and prematurely sputtering out. I had to come up with some method of not just blending the concepts but rather have a concept of the blend… which I was currently drawing a blank on, or have something else mix with them as a bonding agent of some sort. For a second I considered Fel.

Just for a second.

Anyway, it would be silly to move on to my next theory without at least trying one last time to mix them naturally. I just had to think about it clearer. I called on the energies again, this time focusing on their similarities. Both were stellar bodies in the void. Both were associated with light. The Moon was a mirror of the Sun... Once more I forced Solar and Lunar energy together, heat and light radiating from my arm as I sent forth-

My ethereal hand ballooned and exploded temporarily blinding me as the backlash shredded my shell and exposed my Death core to open-air, allowing it to leak out. I blindly stumbled back both from the disruption and the blastwave it created. As my vision came back I took in the damage. More clothing had been scorched… I swear one of these days I'm going to find out how to conjure clothes if the universe keeps conspiring to destroy them. Then the pain hit. Like a wound I just realized I had I could feel the scorch of the Sun and the vaporizing purity of the Moon. Gritting my teeth and holding my head with my hand, I waited for the pain to clear before shaking my head slowly and starting to go over what just happened.

That… that was an utter failure. In hindsight, trying to mix two conceptual opposites wasn't the best idea, especially with the last thought of how Lunar energy was a reflection of Solar energy. That likely made it continuously amplify off itself in a recursive loop. The good news of the experiment was that both Solar and Lunar could coexist next to one another without reacting with one another… it was just when they mixed that they exploded. Clearly, trying to dilute the two by combining them was not an option… not without something to act as a 'bonding agent' of sorts to mesh the two together without triggering the reaction from either.

Unfortunately, I didn't have anything available to act as such a thing, so I had to go with the other method. Instead of mixing the defined two concepts into a dilution… I just make the dilution from the start by 'zooming out' conceptually. The Sun and Moon were stellar bodies, amongst many others, so if I moved away from them and drew from the concept as a whole… would I get what I needed for this spell? It was worth a shot.

I wasn't sure if what I was doing was even possible but then again I didn't even know that pulling on the conceptual beliefs surrounding the Sun and Moon for spellwork was a thing until Kaldorei did it. Fucking hell, I hadn't even known magic was real until twoish months ago. For all I know I was reinventing the wheel and the second I actually meet someone who studies this branch of magic I'll look like a particularly stupid apprentice.

I calmed down and began to think hard about what exactly I wanted to invoke. Stellar bodies: the Sun, the Moon, comets, asteroids, and the planets. Objects and places that were so wide and varied that if they weren't within the vastness of the Void, one could consider them utterly unrelatable. The presence of these stellar bodies varied immensely as well. Blackholes were powerful enough to shape the very universe with their gravitational pull… or they could be so small that they merely served as a centerpiece for a star system. Stars, while they couldn't reach the same highs as a blackhole, had their own amazing variations, to the point where they were more grouped by the fundamental process they were going through than their elemental composition, size, or color. Planets, asteroids, and comets were only divided by their composition and how often they orbited the star. Moons are just asteroids or planets that orbit other planets. But in the end, none of that really mattered. To the naked eye, all was reduced to specks of light hanging in the sky. Despite their differences, their distance from us reduced them all to the same existence, pale dots in the sky, shining down on us.

When I drew on Cosmic magic while thinking over it, the energy resulting from it was completely different to Lunar or Solar, it felt 'lighter' than the other two, less substantial. Not giving it much more thought, as I'd look into it when I was certain this was viable, I called on the energy making up my arm, sparkling like stars in the night sky and fired the spell into the air.

Unlike the prior times, it actually managed to manifest without immediately blowing up in my face. Instead, it blew up a few feet away from me in a dazzling display of shimmering dust and soft light, no shockwave or heat rushing at me in a surprising turn. It wasn't what I was looking for, but I had at least managed to get a projectile of Star magic flying, which was a big improvement from the start.

I wasn't sure if I should use Star or Stellar as an affix for this new branch of Cosmic magic. Possibly reserve on a case-by-case basis? Hrm, I'll defer this till later as for all I know the branch already exists. The last thing was to somehow make it into a proper projectile that didn't explode a few feet in front of me… preferably something that could cut through the body.

[Query?]

[Cosmic.] [Experiment.]

[Surprise?!] [...Acknowledgment.]

I'd leave the math and binding to Partner, as she understood Cosmic magic more intrinsically than I ever would, just as I knew Death more intimately than her. Instead, I focused on the creative aspect of the spell creation, passing over the idea and components of the spell for Partner to simulate and balance. I held the 'loose' cast of it forward, watching with fascination as it shifted and mutated in my hand, steadily gaining shape and form. When I felt the sensation of the spell being completed I loosed it forward, watching as the white-purple crescent sped off into the air out of my sight.

I blinked once in surprise at the flawless spell-cast before moving onto the second part of the testing, namely seeing how fast I could cast the spell. The answer as I found out quite rapidly turned out to be very fast, as the projectiles were sent flying faster than I could keep track of. Even better, I didn't even need to do somatic movements to chain together the spells. Merely holding out my ethereal arm and pouring out the mana shaped it instantly into a steady stream. I labeled it a massive success before moving on to the last section of my tests.

How strong it was.

My options were limited on what I could test on, I wasn't about to wreck the trees that my Dryads had made, not even mentioning the fact that they wouldn't be a good measure against some of the creatures I no doubt would face at some point, beings on the level of Death Knights at least. Just as well, I couldn't just fire them into the ground below, as that'd run the risk of accidentally hitting any of my Dryads running to fetch water for the pool I requested, and I wasn't about to go walking down the ramp to fire at a different tree with how high my base was from the forest below.

My options were limited to nothing… or smashing it against a wall… Which the latter was actually a good idea, seeing as the valley's walls were stone on one side, and if I could puncture stone, I had a good enough power for the fodder enemies I would face.

Nodding to myself, I strolled over to the respectable distance from the… east wall of the valley and sent a Starsurge stream screaming through the air into the stone face. The resulting cut in the wall was satisfactory to me, being deep enough that I could fit my hand into it, my arm could go a bit into it as well, but at that point it became uncomfortable and I stopped my inspection, smiling with satisfaction.

New spell obtained, the simpler -Fire spells were also quickly created and tested. My now recently gained experience made it child's play to bring forth small amounts of usable Solar and Lunar. Then built off my understanding of -Bolts and Starsurge it was simple enough to forge them into volatile balls of their respective energies that proved equally simple enough to cast forward. True to my prediction, Solarfire proved to be slower than Lunarfire, but it slagged rock that it hit instead of scorching and cracking it as the Lunarfire did. Both were slower than Starsurge, also as expected.

Interesting. Perhaps I was onto something about the weight of concepts.

Now… on to the Nature magic dilemma. I couldn't solve any deficiencies in using it until I knew precisely how it worked, yet...

I didn't have a great base to start with, as Druidism in old books was obfuscated, understandably, and I was left working off of pithy statements rather than anything concrete. However, there were trends I could try to take advantage of. The first step, meditation within a secluded area away from civilization. Preferably in an area with abundant Nature.

I gave a lazy gaze around. Lucky me that this outpost fits that bill.

I settled myself down on a ridge near one of the trees overlooking the forest. I then began to calm myself, settling the magic that I could feel permeate my being into something more still but rhythmic.

As my existence fell into a pattern I resisted falling into myself, the method I now realized I used to visit the Tether, Instead, I tried to creep energy down, into the earth. I noted with surprise that as I tried this I could feel the rock and dirt around me crumple under the exposure to my raw mana. To my Soul. To… è̴̴̷̸̴̶̷̢̢̧̨̛́̀̀̀͟͠͞͠h̸̷̡̢̨́́́͘̕͘̕͜͠҉͜͡҉̷͘͠T̶̵̴̴̵̡̡̨̨́́̕͜͜͟͡͞͠͝͡͞ ̴̛͞͝҉̵̵̴̸̶̡̢̧̡̛̕͢͞͠͝͝ḑ̵̴̴̨̨̧̢̢̧̀̀̀͘̕͘͢͡͞͠͡ņ̷̸̴̷̸̧́́̀́̀͘͘͢͟͜͠͞͝͡E̸̵̴̢͡҉̷̨̨̕͟͢҉̵̵̧̧̧̛͞͡
.
My head snapped back as I reflexively gasped, my eyes now wide open. It was in my favor that I had already steadied myself, as that was a surprise even to me. That term… I knew that term. I did not know that term. I knew it in a way I had been skirting around this whole time. I forced my eyes down and closed that mental door. I took in the now indent in the mountain I resided in. Hastily I restrained my… existence from eating away at everything around me to a degree of success.

Steady, Taylor. One thing at a time. You have the time.

Nature. I was trying to attune to nature. I steadied myself once more, calming my swirling thoughts. Quickly, my emotions settled once more as I fell back into that rhythmic state. Carefully reaching forward with my mana once more, I tried to guide it into the earth without allowing it to eat away at it. I felt… something. There was a… heartbeat of sorts… A powerful presence, an immense existence was belo-

I just needed to-

"Wraith. Your presence is required at Naxxramas immediately."

I snapped out of my trance, my grasp lost and any presence too distant for me to find now. Of course, that would happen again. Right as I was about to start on something important… Pity, at least I got Starsurge done.

With a sigh, I channeled Death into my hand, focusing on what I recalled of Naxxramas and casting the Death Gate. The shadowy door gazed me down menacingly, but I paid it no mind and just walked through, not even caring at the presence that flitted around me as I passed through.

What manner of work was I going to be forced into this time?

What greeted me as I entered the dark and decrepit halls of Naxxramas… was Kel'Thuzad's cat sitting at my feet. I looked at it, it looked at me, it let out a meow as it stood up and then walked past me.

… Easily one of the better conversations I've had.

Shaking my head with a sigh, I made my way towards where Kel'Thuzad was. How did I know the way? No idea, but I had a feeling it was because of the leash he had on me instinctively guiding me to him, it made the most sense out of the options since he wasn't telling me any directions anyway. That aside…

There was barely anyone within the Necropolis halls, I could hear the tell-tale sounds of work echoing through the empty passages… but compared to my first visit it was practically deserted. No acolytes looking over various instruments and devices I didn't understand, no skeletons or ghouls running amok or moving supplies. It felt wrong.

Shaking my head again, I soldiered on until I was led to an opening that let the light and snow rush in. Without thought I turned and walked outside into the harsh weather, my Boss floating on the balcony. It overlooked the land with a tower that was as big, if not bigger, than the Empire State Building looming in the distance.

Kel'Thuzad didn't even look back as he addressed me, keeping his gaze down below as I made my way to his side. "Ah, Wraith. You've arrived just in time." I said nothing in response as I stopped at the balcony an-

That… that was a lot of Undead. The laugh coming from my side did little to tear my eyes from the sight below, which was also very far down… no wonder snow was being whipped into the Necropolis. "The Dragons of Wyrmrest are on their last legs, cut off from the outside and with little supplies. They will fall for their transgressions." I took note of his words and pried my eyes from the sight below to look to the side, finding numerous other Necropoli in the sky, held in bubbles of sickly green magic, each linked to the rest by the massive dome that ran through them perfectly capturing the Dragons inside.

The sight, while impressive, made me question why I was here. Because again, if everything was to the point where the Dragons were nearly beaten then why? It couldn't just be to have me lead or destroy the Dragons, there were enough forces to just swamp them, especially with the many bone dragons I saw flying around the other Necropoli. Not even mentioning some of the 'greater' Abominations that were lined up and lumbering or the Death Knight Orders lined up and ready.

… Why did Kel'Thuzad ask me here?

"Quite simple, Wraith." Reading my mind, the Lich didn't even turn to look at me as he replied, an undertone of rage visible in his words as he kept staring directly at the tower, more specifically the very top where I could barely make out figures clustered together. "I want to be very thorough in these Dragons' extermination." Fantastic, I was being put in charge of the genocide of an entire tower of Dragons.

I hate that I was apparently the best choice for mass death, but after considering what I'd done so far since coming here… Well, it was accurate, and something that my master would have known. At the ver-

A thrum of power pulsed, and unsettling weight built in my stomach, as the event shook the structure and me along with it, even Kel'Thuzad had not remained unaffected as he gripped the railing and looked to the right, and for the first time since I had arrived, breaking line of sight with the tower. A second pulse came with just as much warning, only now both Kel'Thuzad and I watched with shock and horror as lightning bolts of bluish-purple magic lashed at the shields around the other Necropoli, crackling along with the dome as the ice beneath shattered and shifted. I was fascinated by the ghastly pinkish light that began erupting from the broken ice thrumming with untapped power. Power on levels that humbled me as I was able to feel such power radiate all the way from here.

"No…" My master uttered with such raw horror that I just knew this was going to end badly for me. "The ley-"

With the third spike of power, if we were mortal we would have been blinded, as an eruption of raw energy tore from the ground and sheared through the Necropoli surrounding us. Their domes shattered, and with them fell two of the Necropoli, cracking apart into debris to eventually rain upon the horde of undead below. Before either of us could so much as say a word, a Roar erupted from our right, carrying with it madness and hate that was nearly tangible. "MORTALS! RECKLESSLY YOU USE MAGIC AND CALL TO THINGS BEST LEFT FORGOTTEN! NO MORE!"

On the horizon they flew, from portals that opened at the base of the tower they poured forth, Dragons and those that could only be considered their kindred, blue-scaled, armored and armed and ready to wage war. And at the head of those flying in from the horizon, dwarfing its kin like a lion against a house cat, was an utterly massive Dragon that I could spot details of miles away. Its scales were a beautiful azure that sparkled in the setting sun like crystals, though that was the only beautiful thing about it as its amber eyes burned with hate, and its body radiated that same pink energy that erupted from the ground.

Well, it was obvious who caused this destruction then.

"I, MALYGOS, WILL DESTROY YOU ALL FOR THE GOOD OF THIS WORLD!" I get it, I'm an abomination that needs to die, please shut up. Weird that he'd call us 'Mortals', but what did I know of Dragons? Well… a lot actually. Unfortunately, 'they are older than you ever want to fight' is a very common trend.

As I tuned out the rest of the rant, which was far harder than it needed to be - given the sheer volume, I looked over at the tower and noticed that it now had a myriad of Dragons of differing colors launching themselves into the air from windows and ledges. Lesser roars barely made it to me as more of the Dragon kindred stormed out of the gates to join the blue-scaled ones. This… this was about to get so much worse…

At least it wasn't a genocide anymore… Now I just had to worry about not getting blown apart by the giant ass Dragon. Which meant it was time to be everywhere but here.

"Wraith." I nearly froze at the calm voice at my side, barely managing to look at Kel'Thuzad from the amount of frost coming from him. "Kill that Wyrm." I could feel the noose around my neck tighten. I wanted to do everything but that, but it still had me forcing myself to nod in agreement. I wasn't sure if I even could kill that massive Wyrm, but fighting it was better than pissing off my boss who was so far past angry he'd turned calm.

"I will deal with the Leader of Wyrmrest. Personally."

The moment he said that an equally massive wyrm climbed into view onto the tower's roof, red scales dotted with finery of gold and jewels as it stared straight at the Lich before bellowing a roar of challenge. One moment I was looking at Kel'Thuzad, and the next he disappeared in a flash of light bright enough to blind. Shaking my head, I pulled on a Death Gate and focused on the Necropolis still floating closest to where the wyrm was bound to arrive before stepping through the shadows.

The wind picked up considerably as I stood there, cloth whipping in the wind… I knew I had forgotten something, oh well. Unfortunately, Maylgos noticed me immediately. I gathered Death in my hands and readied myself for the fight to come.

Before I had a chance to so much as think of any plan on how I was supposed to take down that wyrm, the giant creature reared its head back for a moment. Only to whip it back down, mouth agape, letting loose a beam of that same pink energy surrounding it straight at me that put anything Purity ever made to shame. In a moment of panic, I brought my magic to bear and formed it into a shield to protect me from the powerful beam, barely managing to bring it up in time as I felt the impact.

The immediate and immense drain on my magic would have made me go sheet white as the beam drilled through my shield, and reserves, with a speed that told me blocking it was futile. The unshielded bits of the Necropolis around me began to evaporate, detailing to me exactly what would happen if the shield fell.

Frantically, I made a Death Gate behind me, linking it to another Necropolis nearby that I could feel, and leapt through just as the attack finished drilling into my shield. My timely dodge was all the difference between escape and being reduced to not even an ashen corpse. Panting from the drain, I felt… hollow as I got to my feet before feeling them shift and slip as the ground beneath me crumbled and heaved. Cursing at my luck, I made another Gate, this time choosing one of the Necropoli not falling to the ground, and jumped through it to relative safety.

Coming to a stop, I quickly looked around for Malygos and found it making a pass around the tower, its breath attack had carved a trench into the ice, and utterly obliterated undead caught in it. I didn't allow it to leave my line of sight as Cosmic magic lit up my arm, Starsurge slammed into the great beast's head… and shattered on a shimmering shield around it.

It didn't even flinch.

Its eyes locked onto me and though my body wanted to freeze at the sheer hate I could see in its eyes I remained undaunted and stared back. More magic welled forward from the beast as my other hand started channeling a Death Gate. One direct hit from the beam would completely destroy my body, and while I technically couldn't die via physical means… I didn't feel up to a live-fire exercise to see if raw magical energy could. Especially when it was a giant wyrm intent on obliterating me utterly.

Momentarily, I had the thought to try and punch through its shield with a Bombardment or a Strike but had to quickly reconsider as the wyrm seemed to be blazing with its pink magic as it barrelled full speed right at me. Instead, I opted to throw more mobile Cosmic magic at it, sending a flurry of Sunfire and Starsurges one after the other straight into its path. It didn't even bother dodging, instead, from its wings came a rapid-fire flurry of pale pink bolts intercepting my own projectiles, creating a light show of explosions that would have been beautiful if it wasn't trying to murder me. It was only then that as the wyrm picked up a final burst of speed did I realize what the insane creature was trying to do. Once again, I fled through a Death Gate to a nearby Necropolis left to watch in horror and fascination and the blazing comet the wyrm had turned into simply plowed through the one I had fled from like it was a child's cardboard castle.

Something had to change. How was I supposed to fight this thing? It could shoot down my magical projectiles, and the ones it didn't splashed against its shield. I suspected that even if my spells got through the shield, anything as weak as Starsurge or Sunfire would just… splash on its scales. It was a wyrm, after all, a massive one at that.

Well, whatever I was going to do I needed to figure it out fast as Malygos had finished wheeling around for another go at me. Just as it started to rear its head back for another beam, I swiped my hand forward and sent a Sunfire straight into its head, blinding it for a moment as I slipped through the Gate behind me.

Landing on solid stone properly, I looked over and watched with wide eyes as the beam tore through the Necropolis I had just vacated, a weak shield of green flickering and dying around the falling structure. Definitely don't want to be hit by that… and if this keeps up I won't have many Necropoli left to escape to. But, the beam had to be mana intensive, I refused to believe that it wasn't. Mostly because if it wasn't I had no hope to win. Itchings of memory trickled in at that moment and I took the opportunity of peace to look down at the ground. The rents in the earth… They glowed with that same pink energy. They looked… they looked like they were leaking and not like some effect the wyrm itself had. I didn't need to be a Thinker to put all the puzzle pieces together.

The Scourge had existed for quite some time, and if this wyrm always had access to this magic? I refused to believe that the Scourge had their own hidden superweapon if they were so reliant on fodder as I had seen. No, this was new, this Malygos did something to the earth to… siphon that energy. This means there was a limit, it just wasn't one I was up to playing cat and mouse to find out. 'But I suppose I already was.' Malygos rammed a Necropolis. I had to ask, why would you waste time and energy coating yourself in mana to ram a building if you can just wipe it out with a beam attack unless the beam attack has its own restrictions or power prohibitiveness to it. Thinking about it now, he shot down my spells. Why bother shooting down my spells? His mana shield- his mana shield, could it be? When he coated himself in magic to do his speedy charge he didn't have his shield up. He rams buildings when his laser is on cooldown.

He had a pattern I theoretically could exploit. The question was, will I be able to?

A piercing screech drew my attention away from Malygos, as three smaller drakes swooped down on me with blasts of magical might of their own. I sighed and created a wall to tank their blasts as a series of empowered Deathbolts killed one and sent the other two fleeing. I promptly ripped the soul from the corpse and consumed it to refill my flagging reserves.

Turning back to Malygos, I considered the lesser dragons that swarmed around it. It left a distinct distaste in my mouth, but for the sake of surviving what felt like a natural disaster given the devastation the wyrm wrought in its wake… I suppose Partner would also appreciate whatever [Data] these drakes had in them, it'd be good to know what kind of magic that was and if I could replicate it.

Malygos' gaze landed on me as it shot upwards, flaring its wings at the height of its ascent that left it hanging in the air, the hate in its eyes somehow growing further as it began to dive forward with a roar. I considered firing off more Starsurges or -Fire spells, but I had a feeling that not much would change, not only was it able to shoot them down but the spells fundamentally were just 'damage'. I doubted Lunar energy would amount to anything as Malygos was clearly not Undead... But Death… Hrm, it could work, I have evidence that it eats away at other magic. Drawing on my newly restored well of magic, I gathered and fired off a dozen or so Deathbolts.

I wish I could describe their speed as 'screaming' or 'rocketing' but such as it was, the Deathbolts leisurely flew toward Malygos, in fact, I'm almost sure that it covered more distance than my projectiles did. As I suspected, Malygos did not bother shooting the projectiles down, allowing them to instead impact upon his shimmering mana shield which was complete bullshit. I could only hope I did not imagine that twitch as near immediately Malygos' wings flared as a torrent of magical projectiles were launched back at me. Said hail was a good six times as big as mine and apparently had homing given that they all were arcing my way. 'Amazing, more bullshit. At least I know homing is possible on non-Death spells now.' I thought as I rushed to hide inside the Necropolis.

I turned and slid behind the wall leading to the balcony I had been on. It was not a moment too soon as Malygos' pink magical missiles, because anything moving that fast deserves to be called such, began their staccato of blasts as they rammed into the magic-infused stone of the Necropolis. I was left with little warning as the brickwork suddenly cracked and shattered. The force behind it tore through my shell as more missiles came through and blasted chunks out of me, leaving me wincing from the pain inflicted with each blow. As it came to an end I realized that I could no longer see Malygos, sprinting back out to the balcony I looked all around for him in a panic.

The feeling of weight settled on me, causing me to look up, catching sight of the wyrm too late. I barely jumped off the ledge in time before Malygos' beam punched straight through the Necropolis roof, the sheer raw energy involved ate away at my back before I started scraping against the stone sides. I could feel the wind press down on me as the wyrm slammed through the Necropolis. It took all my concentration to make a Death Gate as I was sent plummeting to the ground.

I flew through the gate and landed in a heap on the next Necropolis. I ignored the pain suffusing my entire being and got back up with some effort. Thankfully, this one was far away enough from that monster that I was given a short reprieve… though for how long was anyone's guess especially with how good it was at tracking me down. It probably had some kind of natural radar for magic or something, which just made it my worst match-up period with its raw power.

I shook my head, first a giant, undying, superhuman, Viking… now an overpowered magical wyrm... I wasn't appreciative of the immense gap in threat this world seemed to entertain, everyone was either simple to handle or seemingly required extensive planning to fight. Planning time I was never given.

The echoing crack of masonry caught my attention and made me look to the tower where I, through the aerial hell that was drakes and bone dragons clawing each other to death and destruction, saw Malygos once more attempting to burn me to a crisp like Behemoth with just its hate. If it wasn't for the Death Gates… it would have succeeded already. I was very glad that I figured out that spell as it had saved my life four times already.

"INSUFFERABLE INSECT!" The booming voice made me wince from sheer volume, but I stared defiantly back at it as it clawed its way across the surface of the tower… which said a lot about how big the damn thing was since the wyrm didn't even wrap around half of the tower. "ACCEPT YOUR INEVITABLE FATE AND DIE!" I wasn't sure what spurred me to respond to its rage-fueled howls, but I did regardless.

"Worse things than you have tried."

And, of course, it somehow heard me over all the combat. Its face twisted into a snarl, somehow making him look even worse, not that I cared at this point as I was focusing more on trying to figure a way out of this situation, or at least figure out how to live through it. I did have the quick thought of how it even heard me, but that wasn't pressing enough to warrant attention.

"WORSE THAN THE ASPECT OF MAGIC!? PETTY DELUSIONS!" Aspect of Magic? Oh great, of course, it was a master of magic instead of just being a goddamn magic super-Dragon!

That did leave me with a thought, how exactly was it managing to keep up such an insane output? Sure, It was siphoning mana from the earth or something but… It couldn't keep it up forever as it displayed before when it rammed the Necropoli. So, it wasn't its mana. It had some sort of limit to it, whether that was a health limit or some restriction of magic I couldn't know. Was its innate magic being amplified or fueled? Was it magic unique to that pinkish mana? What were the side effects? Could it only siphon so much or was the supply limitless? With how he was fighting so far, every laser beam was more energy than I had access to, let alone use in a single spell… Could that be exploited? Could I… burn him from the inside out? Maybe, but I wasn't exactly inclined to just let him shoot at me until he theoretically died. That would mean I had to get lucky every time and he only had to get lucky once. There had to be something else I could leverage…

I glanced around and was shocked by how much of the ground had become cracked, erupting with that same pinkish mana… If I was the gambling sort I would put it on the cracks following hypothetical leylines and appearing wherever Malygos drew immense amounts for its attacks. Was that it? Was that the weak point?

So it was drawing from the environment, a likely effectively infinite source, but with this damage… Does the local environment have its own hard cap? Could I do the same as Malygos? Could I accelerate this drain and use it to fight back at the same time?

Well, rephrase that statement. Could I draw from the likely raw mana, safely? There already existed one type of magic that was harmful by just existing with it, and I wouldn't be surprised if I was uniquely unaffected by Death. It was just as possible that this 'Aspect of Magic', Malygos, was just as suited or enabled to draw that mana with minimal side effects. I didn't know enough to try and draw that mana let alone work with it… But… I knew Death. I could use souls, but I needed a better source-

I felt stupid, for a moment, as I realized I was standing on a well of Death-aligned magic. The Necropoli were feeding off this raw magic and naturally converted it into something I could use. I started to feel for the magic underneath me, attempting to get a grip on the necrotic energy without accidentally triggering a flare-up of my own. Meanwhile, Maylgos seemed content to just remain on the tower for the moment, hopefully, to allow his own well to recoup from his mass usage…

Well, I couldn't think of any other reason that Malygos would allow me to simply sit here and plot its doom. Hopeful doom, theoretical doom. A doom that will possibly occur if a miracle happens. I sighed, what was next? It casually explodes the entire area like it was some form of magical nuke?

…

That was not a good image and not something I wanted to think about.

I shifted my focus back to the Necropolis as I began to feel out the separate magics that it was infused with. It was… beyond me. As much as I scoffed at the debasement of Death magic, the skill involved in the creation of these structures was impressive. I made sure to 'feel' around as best as I could, both to remember this for later and to make sure I wasn't going to accidentally drain the wrong reserve. It would be very embarrassing if I accidentally drained the magic that kept it flying, after all.

Finally, however, I got a grip on the Necropolis' well of energy and got a surprising bonus as apparently the two smaller Necropoli were already set up to feed into this one. I made sure to memorize the feeling of this as replicating in the future could prove useful. I then began to pull and if I was alive I would have gasped in shock as the energy flowed into me. Rumbling laughter locked me in place, drawing my focus back outside as Malygos finally started moving again. "That was your Grand Plan, Abomination? A feeble attempt at mimicry? Pathetic, they tried to manipulate me for this?"

Its wings flared out and with a mighty beat, it rose above the tower, landing upon the roof and standing as majestically as only a creature of its kind could. "YOU THINK TO FACE THE SPELL-WEAVER WITH SUCH PALTRY METHODS? FOOL, I SHALL SHOW YOU TRUE POWER!"

A wordless roar bellowed forth from its maw, and even my neophyte understanding of magic allowed me to sense the immense buildup that was occurring. I knew that If I wanted to have a chance my only opportunity would come from the backlash post-casting. Quickly, I ran through a Death Gate to the terrace atop the Necropolis and began drawing the energy as fast as I could from the well now available to me. Honing my focus I recreated the Death Wall I had created during the Alliance landing now so long ago. Before my eyes I witnessed my brackish purple mist rushing from me in a flood, quickly forming into a concave opaque shield before the three Necropoli connected to me. But it was not fast enough to completely obscure what Malygos was doing. As this entire time the energy it was building grew, and grew, and kept growing until a tipping point and suddenly dozens of what could be spell circles sprung into existence with balls of energy glowing at their centers.

The wall finished and completely obscured all visibility of the terrifying magic Malygos wrought. But I did not need to see it to feel it as the sheer amount of magic made the atmosphere heavy in an indescribable way, only the veritable flood pouring through me from the Necropoli kept me steady. And then the complete and utter incineration of all but the three Necropoli next to me under a storm of magic the likes of which could not be put properly into words. Arcing pink lightning lashed from the ground, as an unknowable number of beams riddled the Necropoli around me.

I watched it all happen with a growing sense of terror wiggling its way into my mind as they fell from the sky… all the while I could viscerally feel how much mana maintaining the wall under the onslaught was consuming. It was as if my whole existence was consumed by both a wildfire and a tidal wave, every bit of me burned from the exertion but also struggled to not get washed away from the flow of power. The only thing I didn't think to defend against was the lightning but that alone my Necropoli seemed to weather through, greedily consuming it to further fuel my Death Wall.

Eventually, the assault abated and I had to allow the wall to dissipate, saturating the air with raw Death mana. Though the purplish haze malicious eyes bore down at me from above, I did not waver or quail under them now, instead, I stared defiantly back at the Spell-Weaver.

Malygos roared "I AM WITHOUT LIMIT!" as thousands of pinpricks began to form across his still extended wings, all of them focused solely on me. For in my peripheral vision I could only see ruins, debris, and scorched landscape around us. A savage grin grew on my face. 'This is my chance! He's weakened!' Quickly, I prepared a hazy shield around just me, the Necropoli could take the hit from these… Manabolts. As much as I wanted to give the damn wyrm a taste of my own death laser - from space - I knew that it would detect it. I had to weaken its shield first, then find some way to immobilize it… in, of course, rapid succession.

Easy, not.

Malygos continued to build up pinpricks of light to a worrying amount, I could feel the magic in the air, as he prepared what could only be the equivalent of a Magical Wall of Lead against me. With my defenses in place, I could only wait for the barrage… and try to figure out - on the fly - how to mass cast spells. It shouldn't be too hard, I had already summoned chains for locations that were not directly attached to me… but, I still knew next to nothing about how it all worked, there were rules-

"THE RULES OF YOUR CHERISHED REALITY DO NOT APPLY TO ME!" Malygos roared once more as he unleashed a deluge of bolts rocketing towards me. Not much more could be said or thought as the Manabolts slammed into my shield, quickly eating away at - and being eaten by - it. All around me the Necropolis was pulverized by the bolts that missed me… or perhaps that was intentional as I watched the building start to crumble under the onslaught. Briefly, I entertained enlarging my shield again, only to feel an odd twisting inside myself that was quickly followed by a rush of energy. Which was welcome, as I had to reinforce the shield even more as the intensity of the bolts increased.

But a boon like that was a red flag. Fortunately, the heavy winds at this altitude kept the dust from pooling, but it also, unfortunately, told me where the rush of energy was coming from. The two smaller Necropoli had arcing pink lighting crawling across them, with one now arcing to the larger one I was now standing on.

If I had blood it would drain from my face as I could put two and two together, the Necropoli were starting to overload from the sheer level of raw mana being forced through them. I knew that my method wouldn't match up against the wyrm but after two attacks my batteries are already turning into bombs…

Dammit!

[Assistance.]

Only to have Partner shove into my brain the missing link I needed. Small adjustments to the underlying principles... Of course, a sympathetic link… Right, the ambient mana... It would be horribly inefficient, for now, but it would work. It had to work. 'Thanks, Partner.' The math was… not totally beyond me, but it was definitely something that I wouldn't be doing in my head while I'm being actively shot at.

I had to counterattack-

Now.

I checked to make sure Malygos hadn't moved, which it didn't - it looked winded, I raised both hands and began to expel mana and manifest as many ethereal hands as I could. All around me they appeared, mimicking the position and movements of my own ethereal hand if displaced around me instead. I knew this would be my only shot, I couldn't let this slip. More and more hands began to manifest around me as I diverted some attention to charging spells with them all.

I spared a moment to acknowledge the feeling of the other smaller Necropolis as it began to arc its own pink lighting, entering into overload mode. In response, I shunted the energy into more hands and more spells. Numbering in the hundreds, it now was beginning to strain my ability to multitask. 'Spells are more difficult to manage than bugs or people, go figure.'

As the final spell charged I mimed pushing forward, unleashing the spells and sending them racing toward Malygos. The air was filled with my own roar of magic, as many spells - Sunfires, Moonfire, and streams of Starsurges - served as a wall for the real punch - empowered Deathbolts and Deathspears. I couldn't stop to stare in awe of what I had wrought, as I could already feel the press of excess energy building up in the Necropoli I was connected to. I couldn't wait then, to ensure that sending all these spells would even phase the blasted wyrm, instead, I poured the energy into another wave, and then another, and another.

And with all the magic filling the air, and behind the haze of my shield, I could no longer see Malygos, but the flashes of pink explosions told me enough of the story. It was trying to shoot down my spells as it had previously, only now there were far more spells, and it had just exhausted itself with its previous display.

And then came the roar, a roar of what I like to think was of surprise, as my Death-aligned magic slammed into its shield and brought an end to the mana it was composed of. The good news of my theory being correct did not last long as the explosions were distinctly getting closer to me. Which meant-

A flash of bling pink light expanded outward - futzing my senses, prematurely detonating all the spells soaring at it, and dispersing my hundreds of hands. Luckily for me, my shield was still up and buffered me from the worst of it.

Only for my vision to return with an image of Malygos, blazing with flame and pink lightning, through the storm of magic like… like… some sort of unstoppable monster. I took solace, however, even as it approached, that there were distinct blotches of discoloration on the scales now. It meant my magic worked. Which now meant I just had to… to restrain it.

The Necropolis under me shuddered as I formulated my plan, wincing as now the pink lightning that had overtaken it began arcing to the next link in the chain, namely me. I- Wait. Of Course!

Chain!

I didn't bother firing any more spells, even though its shield was now down, instead I diverted all of my attention to what might possibly win this battle, and save my life. At first, I wanted to do something similar to Malygos as I had done to Mal'Ganis, but as I began to call forth such a colossal Chain the drain on my magic was more than even the overcharged Necropoli could output.

Unfortunate. But it didn't stop me as I shed it all - all the concepts and the metaphysical weight, anything that wasn't vital to it being a chain, anything to reduce its cost. To my elation, it worked, and I was treated to the sight as two immense chains, one from each smaller Necropoli, launched themselves from said Necropoli and wrapped themselves around the charging Wyrm, who was far too late to turn course.

I disconnected the smaller Necropoli from the feeding link, the backlash immediately setting off chain reactions inside them, sending them plummeting back to the earth - and more importantly taking the wyrm with them.

It was now or never, I concentrated and began building up the focused power needed to call forth a Solar Bombardment… and another… and another… and another. I was leaving nothing to chance and I had all the energy in the world to use. I ignored the arcing pink lightning as the overload of mana from the necropolis began to lash at me.

I ignored how it scored me deeper than my shell, raking itself across my very essence.

[Alert: Anomalous Chronometric Readings Detected.]

I ignored how my mind screamed in pain.

[Error: Mental Model Suppression Compromised.]

The Wyrm had to die.

[Temporal Key Decrypted. Applying.]

I- I- I-

I just had to jinx myself.

The Skeletal Archers reacted instantly to their presence, switching from aiming at the ground to the air and loosing their next volley at the Gryphon-Riders. Two pained screeches echoed in the air as the arrows found their marks, sending rider and mount plummeting to the earth.

Of course, I was then treated to the rest of the Gryphon-Riders proceeding to dive-bomb the Geists and Archers, screeching and shouts sounding over the clash of metal and occasional explosion from the melee. My archers continued their actions that amazed me, deftly dodging out of the way without a problem, even sending another three of the Gryphons into the roof with a well-placed arrow in the process. My Geists… did not do so well.

I didn't react at all to the corpse dropping straight in front of me, uncaringly tapping my staff against the ground twice and letting the broken corpses knit back together. What few Undead remained on the rooftops quickly vacated the area as the Gryphons circled around, I had no doubt that my Skeletal Archers could take them out… but the chance of there being another wave was too high. Even as they were moving down, the archers continued to fire, it didn't matter at what target, just that they kept up their pressure.

Then, the trumpet sounded, and I knew I was completely fucked.

The stamping of hooves and clatter of armor came from the direction of the Cathedral, as horsemen unsheathed weapons and shouted what I assumed were war-cries as they thundered closer. My horde would be decimated by the impact of the charge, no matter what I could try to do to mitigate the damage, most of them would be destroyed.

Then came roars that rattled windows and sent me further on edge. Looking up I saw what could only be a flight of yellow-scaled dragons divebombing my position. I scrambled to fire a Deathbolt at them, hitting one squarely in the head as it rushed headlong into the blast, even as the others let out a torrent of… sand?

Despite my incredulity, it was effective as my horde was sent into shambles, just as the Knights smashed into the sacrificial troops without pause. There was no move to surround me, the dragons swooping back up as the lone dead one smashed into the street, managing to blunt the charge and give me some reprieve. Not that it was much as I reorganized my remaining troops around me, just in time for the Knights to surround me and level their weapons at me.

As I looked around and above, the more ornate rider started to talk, though I paid it no attention as I couldn't understand a word, and I was focused on an entirely new dragon, far bigger than the yellow one and coated in black scales appeared above and started a divebomb of its own. There was far too little I could do in this situation, with air superiority in their hands, vastly overwhelming and armored troops, and my own reduced to wheat before a scythe, the only thing I could hope for was that partner would finish so-

Completion.

Flesh knit together. Bone settled back in place. Lifeless hands clenched.

The necrotic energy had been wafting off of me this entire time, something that none of them tried to stop - likely because I hadn't tried to attack them with it - it had slithered across the ground, sinking into everything dead around me this whole time…

I smiled, and couldn't help the chuckle that spilled out of my mouth. Whatever spiel the leader of the Onslaught was going through, he certainly didn't take long to immediately go after my action. It's rather easy to tell when someone gets pissed off with a 'lack of respect', even with a language barrier. He didn't get too far when two knives pierced through his throat, rending through the armor and leaving him to choke.

"By the Light, you talk too much. Heh, I've been wanting to do that for a long time."

I took a chance to look up, as much as I was in a good position…

Where did those dragons go?

[꒯ꏂꉔꄲ꒯꒐ꋊꍌ ꉔꁝꋪꄲꋊꄲ꓄ꁝ꒤ꋪꍌ꒐ꉔꋬ꒒ ꒯ꋬ꓄ꋬ]

As I looked around more, I saw… the Satyr that the scout had reported about.

Except the Satyrs in the stories weren't quite so large nor were they made out of the same crystal the 'Dryads' were made o-

My thoughts screeched to a halt as another spear impaled me, punching into my flesh and spilling my 'blood' with ease. My annoyance rapidly became anger as I pulled this one out, reminding me of the time just like with that asshole Onslaught that kept shooting me. My eyes burned as I swept my gaze across the battlefield, looking for the culprit, and eventually I found her.

Of course, right as she hurled another spear straight into my chest with enough speed I was sure a low-level Mover wouldn't be able to dodge out of. I didn't get any weaker, not with the literal holes in my body pouring ichor out. Being an undead meant that I was graced with endurance that was stupid, and could shrug off most not-obliterating wounds. No...

I was pissed.

Right as I threw a hand of necrotic energy forward, a roar sounded over the battlefield causing me to look off behind the Nature Spirits, where a group of Bronze-skinned dragon-like humanoids came running from, glaives held menacingly as a single proper dragon hovered in the air overseeing the battle. Quickly reeling in my catch, I tore into the 'Dryad's' soul, its scream of pain a death knell that sent the battlefield silent save for the new arrivals as they slammed into my Onslaught from the side, flinging the soul to the side as its body crumbled into dust, and spun my focus to the dragons.

My Onslaught had difficulty with them, much like with the Nature Spirits attacking, unlike with them however, it was not due to speed, but size and sheer power. A single glaive strike from one sent one of my men flying into the air and crashing into a 'Satyr' that crumpled under the weight. And seeing the Nature Spirits scattering in the dragon's wake, I was free to focus solely on them.

Which suited me just fine as it let me vent after being hit with three spears to the chest.

I wasted no time, throwing a trio of Deathbolts at the closest of the glaive wielders, distracted by my Onslaught. The first bolt tore through its arm and kept going, making it drop its glaive just as the second bolt slammed into its leg, dropping it to the ground. The third and last erased its head, and let me turn to the next of the creatures. That one fell under the weight of arrows and steel from my Archers and Onslaught, and the same picture played out as I could see.

It was not that my forces were better, the dragons and Nature Spirits both showed that wasn't the case in both strength and speed respectively. No, in this instance, what brought the dragons low was the nature of my troops, and the sheer quantity of them in comparison, and that was before I was even included.

Though I had to wonder… Where did that actual dragon go?

It didn't matter, I had corpses to raise.

[Ʉ₦VɆłⱠł₦₲ ₮Ⱨ₳₮ ₩Ⱨł₵Ⱨ ₦ɆVɆⱤ Ⱨ₳₱₱Ɇ₦ɆĐ]

So, his grudge is based on an act of betrayal.

Good to know, I guess. "Since your people... 'worked' with them for a time, you must know of their capabilities, Tzo'zi?" I didn't have to wait long before he looked back at the road, hate still stewing before he started speaking again.

"De Orcs are savages. They charge ta cut foes with axes and bash with maces. Catapults were de best they had for technology, but de made up for it with bloodlust and savagery worse den de Berserkers and Dires." I had no idea what a 'Dire' was, but a Berserker was self-explanatory… and told me what to expect of 'Orcs' now and in the future. "Don't know much bout de others, except for dem 'Blood' Elves."

Wait, what?

Before Tzo'zi could say any more, I was swiftly and suddenly impaled with another arrow. Which was followed by fireballs and other spells that I had little knowledge of. Even with such little warning, the Knights quickly jumped off their mounts, Tzo'zi leaping to his feet in the harness and leaping off into the dark where I could make out various figures rushing forward to meet him.

I didn't leave the horse, looking for… there they were. The archer that shot me was distracted with the unbridled fury of the Trolls, too busy trying to cover his comrades that he never even saw the Deathbolt that killed him until the last moment, knocking his corpse off the rock feature he'd been perched on. I looked around to see if there were any others of his ilk, but it appeared he was the only one, and the rest were being slaughtered wholesale by Tzo'zi and his Knights.

It was a simple thing and one that was soon over without me having to bring a single of my fodder forward to deal with them. Tzo'zi and his Knights were a valuable group to have with me, especially one so small. I'd be lucky to have them with me after this was all over.

But before that… I had more corpses to raise for my horde.

[𝕆ℙ𝔼ℕ𝕀ℕ𝔾 𝕋ℍ𝔼 𝔼𝕐𝔼 𝕆𝔽 𝕋ℝ𝕌𝕋ℍ]

The world stuttered.

[Temporal Anomaly Decrypted and Catalogued.]

Reality felt like it was soaked in molasses.

"You think mere chains can stop me!? I AM THE SPELL-WEAVER!" I could only watch as the chains that shackled it dissipated, freeing it and allowing it to raise itself up once more, wings flared.

I was helpless as I felt the magic my arm was composed of and spells I had layered snapped, dissipating harmlessly, albeit with all my mana having been wasted. My eyes widened. "I AM UNSTOPPABLE!"

Of course. I closed my eyes. Of course, in a world of magic, there was an anti-magic Trump ability. Of course, the super-magic super-wyrm had it.

"I. AM. YOUR. DOOM." Something hit me-

P͢͡͞͠҉A̡̨͘͝I̛͢҉̶Ń̶͜͞

I screamed as my body felt like it was being torn apart - it was - as I felt every second in excruciating detail as my shell, and my essence - layer by layer, was flayed from me. It felt as if I was cooking in the sun and being dissolved by high-potency acid at the same time. Unlike with Supernova, I was forced to stay conscious the entire time as the Necropolis continuously flooded me with more and more mana. Raw overloaded mana arcing into me like a whip all the while.

That, in my moment of agony-granted clarity, made me realize the truly insidious nature of the spell. It was feeding on my mana to fuel itself.

Every second felt as if a year had passed.

At some point, the whipping had finally ended.

At some point, the Necropolis under me shuddered and fell.

It felt like an eternity had come and gone before it ended, with my entire being drained completely. With my sight and senses failing as I kept falling… yet... yet it was all so slow, time seemed to stretch on and on prolonging every last bit of the torture. Blinking my eyes in the hopes of the spots going away, I settled for squinting in the hopes that it would help see around me…

The world… was going slowly…

I wasn't going crazy, it wasn't pain-derived… something was fucking with Time.

I was little more than a cloud of sentient essence now… yet…

I was so hungry.

There was a void left in me, something that had to be filled…

I wouldn't be able to do anything until I ate and with only scraps of mana left…

And then, without pomp or fanfare, something snapped. Suddenly the world around me accelerated as the necropolis I was now… hovering?... over slammed into the ground, cracking it just as it too imploded on itself, whatever magics within it having been burned out.

A roar dragged my attention back to the present, as I sluggishly looked around for its source. The blurred nature of my sight made it difficult but, it was a… drake?

A… lot of drakes. They filled the air around me, seemingly having come to finish me off.

Unfortunate. For them.

I girded my soul and dug into the puddle that was my remaining mana left after that attack, then sent a chain at the closest drake in the air. The chain's existence was a weak and insubstantial one, that is until it connected to the drake. As I felt a connection between the drake and me, I began to drain the creature. The power I siphoned going towards reinforcing the chain, allowing me to draw more and more from the drake's soul and life energy.

It wasn't enough. It felt like I was trying to fill an olympic pool with a cup of water.

All it did was deepen my hunger.

I ripped the soul out of it and promptly consumed it, just as time snapped back to normal. Just in time to realize that the rest of the drakes had closed in on me…

They realized their mistake far too late.

Using my newly regained energy I formed more chains, latching onto multiple drakes this time. Even as they unleashed their magical breath attacks - which was apparently flame, ice, acid, and… sand? - unto me, it didn't hurt, and it was far far too late for them as they realized I was consuming their fellows at a far more rapid pace than any damage they did to me.

Perhaps it was the fact I no longer had a shell to contain me but their attacks did not phase me, I felt no pain from it nor was it making much progress in actually damaging me… No, if anything… I took a breath and their magics that I was bathed in dimmed, melted, or dissolved as their breaths were drained of their magical qualities. The drakes let out pitiful death wails and roars of rage as I consumed their fellows. Yes… I could feel the rush as more than just the energy of the dragons filled me, the ground below cracked and crumbled as I consumed all the magic around me.

It wasn't enough. The hollow ache of starvation persisted.

I needed more.

The world was too blurry, and the drakes had backed off, now just hovering around… I needed… I needed a shell. I needed a body. I needed wings. The desiccated corpses around me sparked a memory of Gothik and bone-based minion assembly. I allowed myself to leak into the bones, causing them to rise and orbit around me. More and more dragon bones ripped from the rapidly decaying desiccated corpses around me to join the orbit, reducing them to little more than ash and dust.

With a flex of my will, the bones whirled around me in a frenzy, reforming into a facsimile of a humanoid-esque upper body, super-sized, with clawed hands and bony wings. Multiple dragon skulls took the place of my head, and as their eyes flared alight with purpose I felt my vision sharpen, the many morsels flying around me coming into clear view. I housed myself in the armored shell the rib cage had become, now fully integrated into my new body.

I looked down at my bony hands, and up at my bony wings - simultaneously, thanks to my new heads. I was fortunate that Necromantic magic was what it was. Despite being little better than debased Death, its perversion allowed for symbolic mimicry to grant 'life' and motion to things that otherwise should be physically incapable of it.

The echoes of drakes guided me, my wings flared and flapped down. Thus the wing was flapped, and so force was generated. I began to rise in spite of petty restrictions like 'reality'. The 'wings' moved thus force was generated, through mana and will reality bent to me.

With each wingbeat, I learned. With each wingbeat I grew more proficient, the echoes of the drakes became clearer.

With each wingbeat I grew hungrier.

Without preamble, I refocused on the surrounding drakes and shot towards the closest one. I took it by surprise, my clawed hand swiftly catching it and without missing a beat I consumed it: mana, soul, and bones all.

When I turned my attention to the rest they finally began to react. Some tried to bathe me in their breath once more, others fled, and a few even roared and charged at me. It all proved useless, my claws easily caught the few that charged me, and they were quickly subsumed. The bones in orbit around me exploded into activity as I formed them into another pair of arms and clawed hands.

The drakes had hesitated throughout all this, even when I tore apart their comrades and consumed their souls they merely sat back, interesting. But, they finally acted when I turned my skulls to pick them out of the sky. The horde that once surrounded me seemed to have thinned, many drakes abandoning the comrades now that I was no longer an easy kill.

Unfortunately, for me, the drakes decided to back away and flee back to the throng that was clashing with the Frostwyrms that remained. The fact that so many remained after all the fighting told me why I wasn't harassed nearly at all during the fight with Malygos.

No matter, it only meant I would be hungrier when I finally caught up to them.

Malygos…

That name echoed in me, driving me to ascend higher and seek out the Wyrm I had clashed with so heavily. It was easy to find it… or rather it was easy to find its magic - that raw mana it exudes, its absolutely ancient soul, all that life. It sat there on the ground, weak and wounded, bleeding life and magic all over. My Death magic barrage had reaped its bloody toll on the creature, as the rotting rents in its scales attested to.

I was tempted then and there to rush at the creature and feast upon it, the starvation I felt in the wake of its attack...

I had no idea what attack that was, but it was something I did not want to get hit with again.

It was two birds with one stone, feasting on it would stop me from being hit with it again and it would bring an end to the hunger.

Yet… I gazed at Malygos and it gazed upon me. I could press this fight, I could try my luck, for I could feel how much magic it had left - too much… or I could feast upon the many drakes. There would come another day when I could consume Malygos' soul, for now, I left it to wallow in its injuries.

I sped past Malygos and it watched me go, it too not wishing to commit itself to a deathmatch, now.

But now that I had turned my attention to it, there was a lot less undead in the air and a whole lot of drakes of different colors. Some remembered me as roars of rage and panic were let out in the throng. The drakes rallied, with none rushing out to charge me this time, instead they surrounded me. They began taking turns attempting to strafe me with breath attacks while the others tried to cover them with spells. My attempts at engaging in close combat were thwarted again and again, as while I could eat all the magic I wanted from their attacks, the volume was proving difficult. It still took time and slowed me down, to ensure I was absorbing the most magic possible from the attacks. Whenever I let up and attempted to rush a drake that had gotten too close their barrage would redouble, pushing me back once more, forcing me to consume more of their magic to weather through.

The pattern repeated itself over and over… but it was not I who was going to lose the war of attrition. Each barrage lasted just a little bit shorter, with each strafe the drakes were just a little bit slower… Every moment I moved a little bit closer, my claws became a little more accurate. And so, the inevitable finally happened. I caught a drake and ripped through its body and soul, it was the snowflake that started the avalanche. My feast began, each drake's magic and soul feeding my hunger as-

-the drakes flew around me in a chaotic formation, the flares of magic and life redoubled as their efforts increased in reaction to my success. Up, down, left, right, they circled all around speeding up in ways that reeked of Chronomagic. Spells hastened and slammed into me, breath quickened and ate at me-

-their-

-raw mana arced between fallen Necropoli. Immense bolts of energy scored through my senses as if I stared into the sun for hours. The rituals broken, yet functioning, intent and pattern so ingrained into the destroyed constructs that where precision and cohesion failed, raw power and echoes filled-

-bones-

-Malygos sat watching me slaughter his kin, too wounded to do anything but glare. I saw his energy turn inwards, trying to stem the damage our fight had caused him. He turned to look at me, his calculating gaze no doubt detecting something was different-

-what-

-the world thrummed with the battle that churned above it. It had bled blood that no other would understand even as we consumed it. Great wounds had been rent deep into its surface, leaking out onto the world untold levels of power and Life-

-happening!?-

-thousands of undead clashed against bipedal dragonkin in the blood-slicked snow. What little remained of both sides slaughtered each other with a matching fervor. Which is impressive if you think about it because the Undead were instilled with singular purpose with no hindrances such as oxygen intake or muscle damage-

-AhHhG!-

-the tower stood as an untouched edifice even as the world around it was warped and shredded. Despite the rents in the earth, despite the massive multi-dozen ton dragon that had lain upon it, despite the bombs, despite everything. It stood as a pristine monument-

-NNNNngghgh!-

-I recollected myself using the pain as a medium. Coming to with the drakes piling on me, ripping at my body, breathing all they could into my chest cavity. The drakes had taken my momentary distraction as an opportunity to deal as much damage to me as possible. And their efforts showed as I realized with alarm, I had lost a significant amount of mana trying to keep myself collected.

More and more drakes started piling on me as I kept going. It didn't matter to them anymore that I was consuming their brethren left and right, ripping them off in a constant rhythm. I had shown a moment of weakness and it had instilled in them a suicidal purpose it seemed. Their ashes rained down onto the ice below as I attempted to consume as many as possible, but the damage they were doing now with their suicidal attacks was starting to tip the scales. They had expended themselves too much before I ate them, the damage they dealt versus what they restored tipped into the negatives. It sent alarm running through me as I realized that this was a battle of attrition I could lose.

Then suddenly without warning, they fled. I was both irritated but thankful, yet also shocked. They had me on the ropes, why would they…?

I looked down and it all made sense, our chaotic rumble had all but left me right on the doorstep of Malygos… as he looked up at me without the haze of pink around him, but he was no longer crippled on the ground, and I was once more weakened. We stared at each other, both waiting for the other to make a move.

And out of nowhere, another - slightly smaller - bronze-scaled dragon showed up and started to cast some sort of time-spell at me. I was about to reply with my special brand of soul-rending violence when an equally as big, black dragon smashed into its side, and the two began fighting in earnest. And in mere moments what had been a showdown between Malygos and I turned into a Dragon Civil War as Bronze and black killed one another… apparently over me.

The bronze ones had been trying to kill me since the beginning for reasons that I couldn't even fathom, and I hadn't even technically killed a single bronze-looking drake until this battle…

But it did give me a moment to observe the odd humanoid dragonkin. Which, they looked strange on multiple levels, being more lizard-like in some cases than dragon, and others were essentially humanoid dragons wielding massive polearms, by my standard. The oddity of the black dragons was that they looked more… stonelike with cracks running across their bodies of something breaking through. These distorted dragons were apparently protecting me… or rather performing a very proactive form of defense.

What was even happening anymore…? Malygos and I traded gazes through the clash happening before us, both of us looking to the other for answers only to find the other just as bewildered.

A presence at my side had me nearly whirl around and kill it on instinct, but I held it back just enough to not rip through the gunmetal dragon as I'd done to one drake earlier. Its voice was guttural as if it wasn't used to speaking, but it was understandable at the very least… "Need leave. Can't protect long." Well... Glad to know they actually were on my side, though the question of why was blaring in my head. I was about to ask the question when the Aspect of Magic exploded in rage.

"TIMELESS WRETCHES!" The battlefield went silent under Malygos' roar, the Aspect raking its gaze across the entirety of the dragonkind gathered before settling on me. "First you aid me, and now this betrayal!? ONCE I HAVE SLAIN THIS ABOMINATION YOU SHALL BE NEXT!"

I had to consider now my strategy, simply fleeing might provoke the now frothing Wyrm, but if I didn't retreat I might very well die here. Whatever spell it used on me… that… Manaburn definitely did damage that is proving difficult to recuperate from. Even if the backlash from it evidently was severe enough that only now was it recovering enough to level threats against me once more. Perhaps the dragon was right, perhaps it would be best to retreat, I had all the time in the world to claim that feast of a soul.

Yet before I could commit to my choice... Before Malygos could follow through with its promise… Before this Dragon Civil War could reignite…

There was a colossal spike in Death magic as everything was drowned in the dying screech of another immense Wyrm.

Everyone froze again as we all turned to the source of the roar, as the necrotic sphere of protection fell - alongside Naxxramas itself - revealing to the world the recoiling body of the Great Red Wyrm that Kel'Thuzad had decided to fight. As Naxxramas crashed upon the thick ice below Kel'Thuzad hovered there in mid-air, standing triumphant over the plummeting corpse of the Wyrm. I couldn't make out any details beyond those with the distance, but if the 'leader' of these dragons was on the same level as Malygos…

It put into perspective how resourceful the Lich was, and given the right circumstances how powerful he could be. I would rend his soul too one day, but it seems I would have to be more careful in my planning.

However, my musings were of little concern as there was someone far more powerful and far more concerned with the pristine corpse freefalling to the raw mana and Death scorched ice below.

"SISTER!"

Anguish and rage mixed into the roar as Malygos took flight, completely and utterly disregarding me as I breathed out a sigh of relief. The pissed-off Wyrm of Magic was focused completely on the death of its 'sister'…while that did draw my interest in how similar their souls might be, I expected it was likely just something related to age and political position for their species. Regardless of that, it left me some time to get out of here, before it swung back onto me because without a doubt I was going to be its outlet for its rage if I remained here for much longer.

While I was keen to immediately Death Gate away and be done with this civil war mess, the bronze dragons would attempt a run on me. And while I would love nothing more than to rip their souls from bodies and feast upon their lives, getting caught up in such slaughter would likely seal my doom when Malygos decides to lash out. I had no mistaken belief that Kel'Thuzad would do anything other than leave me here as bait once more.

"LICH! I SHALL REND YOUR SOUL UNTIL IT IS LITTLE MORE THAN SCRAPS!"

Case in point. It was time to leave.

The only good thing about my current situation was that the gunmetal dragon was staying at my side, intentionally taking hits and disrupting most of the spells that would have hit me, and butchering a few of the smaller drakes that came too close. It was eerily silent in its work, something I appreciated as I didn't need anything tempting me into simply begging my feast again.

"Life-Mother really falls?" I turned to the dragon at my side, its sudden words tinged with confusion as if it couldn't comprehend what had occurred… had it not been paying attention? Or was there something else, magically related, going on? I had a sudden urge to rip out its soul to get my answers but suppressed it. I would have time to do it later, distractions can come after I make it out. "Shouldn't happen. Master never saw." Kel'Thuzad winning was supposed to be impossible? And there was some Precog in charge of these guys.

An unknown cabal of time-magic using dragons manipulating events behind the scenes with the powers of a Contessa-level precog?

I would tolerate being their ally… for now. Perhaps it would be better if they served me instead…

I took a moment to glance in Malygos' direction, finding him in a state of raging and ranting, Kel'Thuzad nowhere to be seen. He left me in this hell… because of course, he did. "YOU CAN RUN ALL YOU WANT, LICH! I WILL FIND YOU AND I WILL MAKE YOUR DEATH AN EXAMPLE!" As its roar carried across the frozen wasteland, vengeance sworn in its maddened mind, it turned to give a glance towards the fallen Wyrm before giving another roar and ascending into the sky, completely ignoring me.

"Fall back! Return to the Nexus, Kith and Kin, our vengeance will be had!" With his parting words, drakes, dragons, and dragonkin of all colors turned and began flying, running, or teleporting out. Many headed in the direction of the Borean Tundra, few returned to the Tower now that their reinforcements turned tail.

That wa-

A rumble distracted me from my thoughts, the ground cracked and rumpled, the ice finally giving way and imploding on its weight. As I drifted closer to the ground to get a better look at the glow coming from the cracks, and the alluring call of raw mana pooling there, I belatedly realized that that the gunmetal dragon that had been by my side until now vanished without a trace or fanfare. It was that distraction that cost me as the ground erupted suddenly as spires of potent crystalized mana exploded into existence. I was clipped by the rapidly growing spire, shocked as it tore through one of my arms like it was a hot knife through butter. Spinning out of the way as the ground all around me began erupting with these self-same jagged crystalized mana spikes.

It didn't take me long to deduce the source, everywhere that Malygos had flown during our battle had left a glowing fissure in the ground, and now with no creature using the immense amount of mana that was spilling forth it was flooding out into the land itself.

The mana… it called to me.

It was an alluring flame I couldn't help but be drawn towards once more. It may not be souls but a feast such as this would go far to sate my hunger…

As I approached I could see the sparking occurring on the crystals, trails of that pink lighting-

-thousands of eyes shut eyes thousands more open give us what we did we didn't understand what reality of existence we woke always sleeping we didn't understand the truth is eyes we unleashed magic we had no comprehension cycle of our hubris the sky sees filled us and we always at every opportunity understanding the sea floods in to the mind but not the body but deeper is is deeper is things best left buried all around energy and life and souls and death comprehend what we do what we did what we will do through time is unraveled knowledge is power dragons drakes wyrms undead mana magic it all comes undone-

[Mental Model Suppression Successful]

I-I-I shakily got to my feet… My… feet? I looked down with some surprise to see I had feet. Why… why was I surprised I had feet? I checked the rest of my body with my arms… I frowned - with my arm? I noted that I still only had one arm. My head pounded. Eurgh, what happened?

Looking around I was mystified at how different the snow-coated tundra was. Where once was an unbroken plain of ice and snow was now filled with scorched earth, massive - glowing - fissures, and spires of pink-red crystal with lightning arcing between them. And the corpses… there was almost no snow left to see, so matted down in blood, viscera, and bodies it was.

Both Undead and dragons alike filled this graveyard. What caught my eye was the dragon corpses, there was something… off about them. I drew closer to one, reaching out- I blinked and shook my head. I needed to go back to Naxxramas.

Forming a Death Gate I searched for the flame in my mind that represented the bountiful necromantic magic that the Necropolis ran on. Only to find it now no more than a dying ember. Quickly the connection was formed and I rushed through.

What I came out to looked like a toxic spill had occurred, green ooze and sludge pouring from broken pipes and gashes in the masonry, the arctic winds rushing in not enough to freeze it solid. With a moment of peace and respite, I caught my breath and sat down on a piece of rubble, hating every moment of this mess I'd been forced into, one that I was having trouble recalling. Compared to my time in the Borean, this had been a complete and utter shitshow, I accomplished absolutely nothing, I had questions about what was even going on, and I'd nearly died again, I think? It was all very fuzzy after the opening moments.

Yet As I looked on outside at the immense corpse of the Wyrm in the snow, memories stirred. I couldn't help but feel confused at the memories of dragons fighting other dragons in the middle of that battle. Not the Undead Frostwyrms that the Scourge commanded, but other living Dragons.

I looked over at the Wyrm's corpse as a decision was made… If nothing else, I was getting something out of this fiasco, and I sure as hell wasn't going to let the corpse just sit here and rot, or allow another less benevolent character to gain access to it. If Kel'Thuzad would complain I can always claim it as compensation for dragging me into this and then leaving me behind.

Debris crumbling made me instantly stand up and bring my arm - dripping with Death - to bear, only to find a familiar face walking down, accompanied by several Death Knights and a few acolytes. "Apprentice." Gothik, somehow without a speck of dirt on him despite having almost certainly been inside the Necropolis when it fell, made the last few steps to the icey earth, padding forward much like a wizened mage instead of his normal, almost regal walk. "I would say it's good to see you. But I'd be lying given the circumstances."

"Archmage."

I didn't know what was going on, so I stayed ready for anything as I said the greeting, the old Necromancer not even caring as he walked forward, with his entourage less stoic and just as prepared to fight as I was. "Kel'Thuzad in his pride decided that Naxxramas and its power was worth the death of an Aspect, dooming those inside." Is that… is that what happened? Flashes of color, of Death, dying screams, momentarily plagued me before it passed as quick as it came. "Unlike many of my… colleagues. I was lucky to be in the War Quarter and survived with relatively little injuries."

He gave me a look through the helmet, making me tense before he sighed. "I'd continue, but I'd rather converse in a… safer place than this ruin. The land Kel'Thuzad granted you is secure enough, is it not?" Though he framed it as a question, his tone said otherwise, and I nodded my head.

Gothik, despite our amicable relationship, was loyal to Kel'Thuzad… except this act by the Lich had me thinking that there was a falling out occurring in real-time right in front of me. The Archmage also was more interested in research than what I understood of the Scourge's goal of killing practically every living thing… I could work with someone like him, at least in the short term.

Which led to the question of which of my outposts to put them, since I most definitely wasn't trusting any of them near my Harbor. There was the Crystalsong base… which I was planning to build up, and test magic at, the moment I got back and was rested enough. Certainly, that'd put me in Gothik's good graces as it were… but I had no idea if he would run information to Kel'Thuzad out of some sense of loyalty. It was a risk I couldn't truly take, there was just far too much until I knew more about the situation.

Which left my port… relatively little going on beyond resources being shipped to the Harbor… It was a better spot than Crystalsong in that regard, and it showed nothing that I hadn't already had access to before beyond some extra infrastructure. Plus I could still gain favor with him by constructing his own customized facilities. Making up my mind, I started gathering Death, focused on my Port, and opened a Gate between here and there. Gothik nodded his head in thanks but made no move to go through himself, waving his followers through with only some mild hesitation from them. Once they were all through the gate he spoke again, a bit of weariness entering his voice as a hand clutched his head. "My thanks Apprentice... I'll join them as soon as Razu-" Before he could finish, the wall next to him exploded in a shower of masonry, not even fazing the man as I whirled on the source.

Only to immediately stand down as I recognized the figure as well. There were fairly few individuals with that hairstyle, ice blue armor, and glowing blue eyes after all.

"-vious arrives." The moment the dust settled Gothik continued as if nothing had happened, tilting his head to the side and taking an offered flask from the Death Knight, before chugging the light-silver liquid down his throat. Once he was done, he let out a satisfied sound and started walking forward towards the Gate. "Come Razuvious, we have work to get to. The books won't sort themselves."… What?

I was left in bewilderment as the two went through, the Death Knight giving a salute of all things at the order, and left me alone in the middle of a ruined Necropolis… in the middle of now enemy territory. Shaking my head with confusion at the situation I had just witnessed, I turned to the Wyrm corpse lying in the distance and made a Death Gate over to it, which proved to be oddly difficult, but I eventually made it and walked through.

I didn't spend any time marveling over the off-puttingly pristine state the Wyrm was in, instead I immediately got to work and plunged my ethereal arm into its side.

I regretted it immediately as it felt like my arm was bathed in acid. I grit my teeth and pressed on, it was certainly unexpected but not enough to deter me from doing this. Death spilled from me and covered the ice in a cloud of black smog. I could feel my magic deteriorate as I tried to grasp for her soul. Even as I redoubled my output, I could barely match the speed in which the Wyrm's body burned it all away. Whatever this Wyrm was an 'Aspect' of, it was anathema to Death itself, and I had a sneaking suspicion that it was Life.

As time passed I only grew more certain. This creature's body was so overflowing with Life that even while dead I doubted anyone other than I could have defiled it. Internally, I grit my teeth because that was exactly what I was doing, I felt it in a way of just knowing, just like how I knew that it was a war of attrition I would win. The body was dead and what Life left in it was not renewing, every inch I gained with Death was permanent.

Eventually, after several agonizing minutes, I was able to finally trace my way to the soul from the body. Paradoxically the soul was still quite… attached? To the body, to living, to Life. I reached for the soul, intending to bind it once more to her body only to be metaphysically, for lack of a better word, swatted away, sending me recoiling and almost breaking my concentration. Blinking and shaking my head to clear the feeling, I narrowed my eyes and set about forcing the soul back into her body, as the soul was probably just reacting to my Death magic anyway. Once again I reached for the soul, trying to envelop it and drag it back. Only to be again violently rebuffed, scorching my own magic and soul. This time, my concentration was broken, and now I was irritated and whole-heartedly done with the day. I was trying to bring this stupid Wyrm back to life to prevent the scum who would perform experiments on her corpse and here she was attacking me over it.

If I had been anyone else, I likely would have had to give it up there. I had expended quite a bit of energy just searching for her soul, let alone trying to bring it back for resurrection. But I was not anyone else, I was Taylor Hebert, now 'Lady Wraith', and I was never alone. Chains burst forth from shadowy pools, piercing through the corpse seeking out the soul. Once my chains found it again they violently grasped the soul, entwining around and into it, anchoring my hold on it and beginning to drag it back. The Wyrm's soul fought and struggled to get free, surprising me by making my pain worse and even somehow destroying bits of my hold on it, turning the entire thing into an ordeal that not only was wasting my time and patience but also putting me in danger the longer I stayed here. But I came this far and I wasn't about to let this deter me.

More and more chains poured from me and around me digging their way into the Wyrm's body, burying themselves into its soul in greater numbers. For each chain shattered two more took its place, I was done being subtle as more and more Death radiated from me, suffusing the air and ground around us.

I tuned out the world around me as I concentrated, pumping the corpse with Death even as its soul thrashed about in a vain effort to stop me. Its limbs twitched as unholy might flooded its body, its scales darkened and shifted as 'life' came back to it, all the while my chains cosmetically wrapped around her body, representing how the Wyrm was now bound to me. Ripping my ethereal hand out of the body, I stepped back to watch as the Dragon slowly rose to its full height, chains rattling as the ice beneath it broke under its strength.

Pitch black eyes with red embers for pupils opened to stare down at me, a rumbling growl echoing in its throat as I felt her rage at my defilement. I didn't care, she could hate me all she wanted for what I'd done, but I wasn't going to just leave the corpse of an 'Aspect' behind in the middle of this corpse-filled blighted land, right next to one of the most powerful centers of necromantic magic. Resource denial was important, just as important as resource acquisition. If this Wyrm truly had this much Life even in death, then she might be the solution I was looking for. Besides… She deserves her vengeance upon Kel'Thuzad.

Not wanting to spend a single minute more here, I strode forth and I gripped one of the chains near its back, then pulled myself up onto her. Then I took hold of another well-placed chain that let me stand on its back without worrying about falling off. Her voice rumbled in my mind. "The moment I am free, Necromancer, I will bathe you in flame and incinerate your soul." I ignored her words, instead, I grasped the chain and forced the Wyrm upwards into the air with my will, as it fought me every step of the way.

This would be a hassle, but I had a Dragon now.

Without even a glance back at the battlefield of Wyrmrest, I flew off in the direction I could vaguely feel was the Crystalsong outpost atop my new mount.

It was a long, silent flight through a blizzard back 'home'.

Eventually, the snow gave way to a verdant forest with crystalline scars just as the moons rose to prominence in the sky, casting silver light onto the trees and making a beautiful sight that few would ever see. I only paid it a small glance before returning my attention to directing my mount through the sky.

It was… mildly frustrating, as she kept pushing back at every order I gave, not enough to defy them in their entirety, but enough that I had to actively focus on enforcing my orders. It was a… novel problem for me. Unfortunately, said novel problem is a multi-ton dragon bent on seeing if a hot enough fire could melt a soul, my soul, but I just had to work around it. I suppose I would have to make sure she didn't try and take a page from the satyrs, though I get the feeling if anything they would be taking lessons from her…

Maybe I could try offering her some sort of incentive, but I haven't the slightest clue what could work.

Suddenly, the air stilled then pulsed as a now very familiar thrum filled it. It made me freeze for a moment before immediately whirling to face the direction it was coming from. What greeted my sight was nothing, but the sheer magical energy concentrated in it told me that something was happening, even if I couldn't see what. I was wary as I scanned the horizon looking for any signs of what was using so much mana, with little luck. I could only hope that whatever was happening, it wasn't a repeat of what had occurred at Wyrmrest…

I could only take so much in a single day.

Pulses of magic reverberated through the air, making my focus stumble under the weight for moments before I braced myself. The pressure behind it was nowhere near as powerful as Malygos' initial strike, and for that alone I was thankful, but the question of what was happening had me on edge. Was some ancient creature about to awaken, was there going to be another explosion?

Or... was something just going to appear out of thin air?

A blinding flash of light filled my vision, making me instinctively look away, even if the flash wouldn't blind me it was still magical and thus still hurt to look at. What made it worse was Alexstraza took the moment to buck against my control. I had to find a way to mitigate - The moment the light cleared out of my peripheral I looked back in its direction...

Murphy… I was joking.

Granted, I'd take this over the other two options, but having a giant, floating, obviously magical city appearing in the sky over Crystalsong was not a great thing to see on my way back after the fiasco earlier. While I didn't know their exact relationship with the Scourge, I could bet on them being hostile to me given everything and their mother was trying to kill the Scourge. Admittedly, for good reason, but still, I was being grouped with them at the moment. Which meant I had an assuredly hostile super magical nation on my front door, and now would have to deal with that entire mess...

And by medieval standards it may as well be an entire nation, at least, considering the thing looked like it was big enough that a modern city like Brockton Bay could fit on it. On top of there being a bit of extra space left over, it looked as if it had been ripped from the earth itself, so it carried the possibility of subterranean expansion. Granted, I couldn't see it in its entirety and there was no way I was going close enough to check, but the city was huge and imposing. Massive towers rose into the sky, looking every bit like the stereotypical wizard aesthetic with white stone and violet roofs visible even in the moonlight.

I could only hope that the population reflected a medieval one versus what the size implied. I could only pray that they followed stereotypes of wizards of being ostentatious, eccentric, and excessive. Okay, maybe I didn't pray that hard, I wasn't sure what kind of wizard I wanted to have to suffer through but maybe if they were eccentric enough they would believe me...

Scowling at it all, I turned away and kept flying… I was close to my outpost, and I could start drawing up some kind of plan to deal with the new problem on my doorstep when I got there. And deal with my other issues such as Gothik and his followers, trying to figure out what that entire ordeal with the bronze and black dragons, and figuring out what to do with my Wyrm, or rather Aspect as she was called. Not even mentioning if my Boss decided to call me over for another one of his stupid plans.

How has this... faction... existed this long while simultaneously being this incompetent and erratic?

The steady beating of wings in the wind was the only noise that accompanied me and my thoughts until we touched down amidst the cursed trees, several of my Dryads up and about rushing over to greet me as I clambered off. Excited murmurs left them as they gathered around, with occasional shouts of 'The Savior!' and 'She's here!', and I took a moment to just… bask in their affection. After everything that happened, I needed a moment to relax, and even with their fanaticism, the Dryads were the best source of relaxation with their antics.

I could feel the gaze of my Dragon on me as I interacted with my Dryads, watching as I was pulled along into their antics and just relaxing in their presence. From what I could get from my own link to her, I could feel her confusion at the sight, which I suppose made sense if it thought I was just a regular Necromancer. After all, what Necromancer would get dragged into getting their hair braided and semi-dead flowers threaded into it, or permit them to generally frolic around and bother them? Or for that matter seemingly had free will, or shouted about said person being their 'Savior'.

I didn't get to enjoy too much relaxation, however, as very quickly the Dryads seemed to do a one-eighty on their personalities, manifesting spears as they turned in one fluid motion at a random tree. I quickly followed their gaze, starting at the trunk and making my way up into the branches before honing in on the person that shouldn't have been there.

A, presumably male, Elf in black robes with blue script on it, 'his' skin paler than I'd seen of anything living yet with piercing blue eyes, sat on the branch without a care in the world as it ate an apple.

It didn't make any move other than continuing to eat the apple, save for a single hand raised in what I assumed was a greeting. Considering its lack of hostility, he either assumed I was no threat, or it wasn't here for a fight. I hoped for the latter, as I waved for my Dryads to stand down for the moment. They kept back, watching me as I walked forward to just before the tree's trunk. He smiled, it was barely noticeable with the distance between us, before calling down to me with a polite tone, "Greetings Taylor Hebert. I hope that recent events have been to your liking."

… What did that mean? And on another note.

"How do you know that name?" My voice was cold, I'd spoken my name once in this life, and only once. There'd been none alive but Sigvaldr when we first talked, and even then I have only ever spoken my first name. There were only two ways this individual in front of me knew that he had some kind of Thinker-esque power or… or Kel'Thuzad 'discovering' me was no fluke.

He chuckled as he finished off his meal, tossing the core off to the side before giving a reply. "An answer for an answer Taylor. I did ask you first, so it is only polite for you to answer first." I narrowed my eyes with a scowl, already disliking the trickster-like attitude he gave off.

"The recent events have been... satisfactory." I spit out the last word, even as he gave a happy nod in response, clapping his hands together.

"Excellent, excellent! We have put quite a bit of effort into ensuring you weren't interrupted by our misguided kin. It'd be a shame if you were dissatisfied with it." He hummed happily before immediately moving onto my own question without missing a beat. "Time… has not buried your identity as deeply as you think, it is… infinitely easier and more difficult to acquire such knowledge, however, so do not fret." Excellent, that both managed to explain much and simultaneously nothing at the same time. I very much missed talking with someone who derives enjoyment out of answering questions without actually telling me much of anything.

That was sarcasm.

Yet, he gave me a hint. The trickster in front of me had access to some form of time-based bullshit, maybe even time-magic itself if it was a thing here.

"Now, onto more important matters, my dear Taylor, or is it Wraith now? Perhaps, no… not yet." He stood up onto his branch before hopping off to the ground below, landing with a grace that I expected of elves before giving me a bow. "I am Gnomon, and I am your assigned representative from the Infinite Dragonflight, the Dragons that aided in your escape from the Bronze at Wyrmrest." That, uh… Okay, I wanted to say that explained a little bit but it really didn't, and, call me crazy, but I was skeptical of some time-wielding elf that just shows up out of no-

Wait, he said he was part of the 'Dragonflight'. Did that mean that Dragons in this world were shapeshifters? I glanced over to the 'Aspect' that was glaring at me, no doubt knowing where my thoughts were going. This might pose an actual problem in the future. You think you cornered someone and boom, suddenly multi-ton dragon in your face…

Oh. They were all like, basically Lung, but worse, with magic tacked on. And I possibly now have, well, nearly all of them coming for me. I feel like this might actually come back to bite me… Literally.

Be depressed later, deal with smug shapeshifting time-dragon now. "You know me. You helped me. That means you know what I'm capable of and you want me to do something for you."

His smile brightened at my words, a good-natured laugh leaving him as he closed his eyes. "Of course. You wouldn't be the Savior we looked for if you weren't capable of what you are and will be." Yeah… Definitely time-bullshit. He dimmed in his happy demeanor, keeping a polite smile on his face as he tilted his head to the side, eyes closed and in thought. He let out a sigh as he opened his eyes, hands lighting up with white-violent energy that felt similar to what Malygos used earlier. "I am afraid duty calls Taylor. We shall meet again on the eve of your next great adventure."

He looked over at my Dragon, his smile turned wicked as he laughed. "And do take care of the Life-Mother, her death was unforeseen, and we are eager to see where you take us now." And before I could even ask what that was supposed to mean, he let the energy wash over him and he disappeared off to somewhere.

… I didn't know how to feel about Gnomon beyond being wary, and he was supposed to be coming back when the next major event was about to begin. On one hand, I was glad his next meeting with me would be telling me when something bad was going to happen, because, really, what else was a 'great adventure' meaning when applied to me?

I huffed and turned my attention to the other Dragon in the room, the now titled 'Life-Mother'. Her overflowing Life energy even while dead made sense to me now if she was supposed to be the Dragon Aspect of Life. Malygos was the Dragon Aspect of Magic, thus nigh endless magic, Alexstraza is the Dragon Aspect of Life thus… bountiful Life energy? Hrm.

My leash on the Life-Mother tightened as I forced my will on it, prompting a roar of defiance from her which sent my Dryads scattering about as they watched and waited for what was to happen. Slowly under the weight of my will, the Aspect's resistance crumbled, and slowly they 'shifted'.

Scaled turned to skin, forelegs into arms, talons into fingers. Wings melded into its back, its horns shortened… yet remained sprouting from the back of her head through hair as red as flames. 'Armor' was created that hid her modesty and protected her limbs, the most useless piece of armor that I had seen - even if it was purely decorative - and a cape coming to rest behind her.

Her eyes remained the same, black orbs with burning coal pupils locked onto me with hate as I nodded to myself in satisfaction. I turned away without a word, only to stop short of moving as a new Dryad came up to me, giggling as she spoke. "The pool's ready for you to bless, Savior! I can take you to it the moment you're ready." I sighed motioning for the Dryad to lead the way, my leash bringing my Aspect along with me as we went down into the Barrows.

Hopefully, the next few days were slightly more peaceful… I needed some rest.

Undying Scarab

Undying Scarab [Warcraft/Post-GM Worm]

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