The Conquest Hold
The Grizzly Hills is a forest land located in the southeast of Northrend. Dominating the landscape are towering pine trees, crystal clear lakes and rivers, and frosted mountains in its southern region. The land itself is one of beauty and foreboding as it is densely populated by furbolgs, a race of bear-like humanoids. In its heart, a great tree once stood, but now only corruption escaped from its roots. Above, the sun shined brightly. Though the clouds begin to form in the distance, there is an ominous sign of a coming storm.
On the road to the Conquest Hold, a young paladin rides his blood charger; his raven-black hair shinning in the sunlight and his fair skin even more brilliantly. The paladin brings his charger to a walking pace, searching the ground to his side. Noticing a beautiful flower, he stops and dismounts to retrieve it. Examining it closer, he senses a small amount of taint emanating from its violet petals. Using a seal of light, the paladin's hand, which holds the still pristine flower, begins to glow with a bright light. The taint fades, making the flower become truly pure. He returns to his steed and kicks it into a gallop. A few moments later, he arrives at the Conquest Hold, weary from the journey.
The paladin has come all the way from Borean Tundra in search of his little sister. A few weeks earlier he received reports that she had been stationed here, at the Hold, to help combat the taint of the land. The threat of the trolls from Zul'Drak, which bordered the Grizzly Hills in the north, was also a concern, which made it even more imperative that he find her.
At the gates of the Conquest Hold, an orc bars the paladin's way. "State your name and business," says the orc who is evidently bored.
The paladin sighs, his exhaustion and irritation clearly noted in his voice. "I am Lazurin Solfury. I am weary from travel and my horse needs water."
The orc guard examines the somewhat impatient elf with some suspicion, but lets him pass. "Very well, elf, speak with the innkeeper in the main hold. He'll give you a 'decent' meal and care for your mount." With that, the elf enters through the heavy gates and then proceeds to the inn.
Soon Lazurin was settled into a prepared room that was on a higher floor in the main hold. Since most of the 'rooms' were on ground level, they were pretty much open to anyone. So, he had requested something more private.
Sweat and blood were encrusted upon his face and armor when he had entered his room. Dropping his traveling bag onto the floor, Lazurin closed the door to his room and collapsed onto the freshly made bed.
"By the Light am I tired…" He rolls onto his back for a moment, then sits up and begins to remove his battle-worn armor.
First, his helm came off, which revealed his blood matted hair. Concerned, Lazurin also removes the gauntlet from his right hand and searches his head for any wounds. Relieved to find none, he continues to remove his armor.
"Argh!" The paladin cringes as his right shoulder begins to burn. Carefully removing the rest of the armor on his upper body, Lazurin finds that he has a gaping wound about an inch wide that stretches from the front of his chest and over his right shoulder that reaches to the bottom of his right shoulder blade. Apparently, the weight of his armor and his fatigue were the only things suppressing the pain.
Lazurin had no idea how the wound was inflicted because the gap between his helm and shoulders was so small that it would have been difficult for any weapon to pass through. Even so, the weapon had cut through his chain mail. Plus, the weeks of riding through rough terrain probably lengthened the gash. Now looking more closely at the wound, he discovers that it is also infected as there was puss and some discoloration around the area. A growing feeling of concern etched Lazurin's face as he curses in his native tongue.
"I can only hope that this wound wasn't made by a Scourge weapon or I might be in serious trouble very soon…" he sighs, forgetting about his battered and bloodied armor. "The only thing I can do right now is try to clean my shoulder as best as I can."
Summoning the healing powers of the Light, Lazurin focuses its energy on his shoulder but nothing happens. "What? Why isn't it…strange." The wound seemed resistant to his spell. So, he instead wrapped a bandage to cover it for now.
Soon, Lazurin had cleaned himself up and was about to go to bed for the night before a knock came at the door. "Who is it?" Lazurin asked tiredly.
"It's Father Winter come to bring you a flying reindeer with a glowing nose," answered a familiar voice.
"Narri, is that you?" laughed Lazurin as he got up from his bed to open the door for Narri.
"Who else would it be, brother? May I come in?"
He shrugged. "Of course, my sister, I came all the way from the Borean Tundra just to find you. Why wouldn't I let you in and talk to you at this hour?" Lazurin let Narri in and motioned at a couple of chairs near the bedroom window.
Narri gladly took a seat, happy to see her brother alive and well. "So, how have you been?" She rested her elbows on her knees, holding up her head up with her intertwined hands. Narri appeared to be listening intently with excitement but her smile faded when she saw her brother's face.
"There is much I have to discuss with you, Narri." As he took a seat in front of her, Lazurin began to explain why he had come to see her and his plans for the war at hand.
After explaining to his sister why he had asked to be placed in the front lines, Lazurin fell silent. Not much was said after the discussion. Narri simply said goodbye and left. She didn't smile, cry, nor really seem to be affected by his decision. This placed a heavy feeling of regret upon his heart and soul, for he could not think of anything else but how Narri was feeling. It was too late. No turning back. There could be no regrets. If he were to face the undead coming direct from the citadel in Icecrown, he would have to find his resolve. Lazurin knew that he was doing this for his people, but more importantly, for his only little sister; for her freedom and her future.
For a long while after Narri had left, Lazurin sat by an open window with chin in hand, deep in thought. It was near sunset already and the gates of the hold were closing. He watched the great iron-bound, wooden doors screeched closed. Peons finished up with some loose ends of their daily chores and then sleepily headed towards the barracks for the night.
Lazurin let his head slide into his palm, feeling weary and spent. His eyes closed and he whispered something, but it is faint and too subtle to make out. "I'll have to go find Narri and make sure that she is alright. I haven't the faintest idea of how she must be feeling right now." He chuckles softly. "Narri has always seemed to be mysterious to me when it comes to emotions." With that being said, he closes the window and locks it and then, prepares himself for a much needed rest.
Fear, pain, and anger swelled inside Narri, not knowing how long she could contain these bottled emotions as she left his room. Lazurin's words ran through her mind over and over again. What was the point in being free if she could not share it with someone? If she could not share it with the only family she had? To avoid more grief, Narri tried setting the event aside and set off to find a room to stay in.
The hours dragged on forever for the moon seemed to remain stationary, emotionless and indifferent. It was a cold eye that glared down on all who looked upon it, but that is how everything felt in Northrend. There was nothing more to find but death and suffering. So, why would the land give anything else? Most heroes who traveled to Northrend thought so, but found it to be only mostly true.
The land was fighting the death brought upon it. The Lich King was failing. However, he was far from finished. Even though Arthas lost some of his most powerful death knights at the battle of Light's Hope, he still has some other monstrous allies within the black halls of his citadel.
The Argent Crusade was an ever present thorn in his side. The Light guided and protected them. Not to mention that they were aided by the Horde and Alliance. Even the Ebon Blade, which consisted of the death knights that Arthas betrayed at Light's Hope, gave their aid, though only for their own benefit. With such determination in the eyes of his enemies and such seething hate within the souls of his former pawns, Arthas had no choice but to look to his defenses. His citadel of death had been breached. Was his demise soon to follow?
Back at the inn of the Conquest Hold, Lazurin lay in bed tossing and turning. The illness caused by his wound, for the past few days, had seemed to have passed. But in fact it had only now begun to worsen. Sweat beaded down his forehead and his vision began to blur.
A day or so ago, Lazurin had inquired about his shoulder wound, asking any of the hold's shamans and priests that he could find. They, unfortunately, were not experienced enough to cure him.
By the time he had finished speaking with all the hold's healers, the sun had set. All they could say was that they could not help him. Lazurin had tired of hearing "Sorry." and "Try asking someone else." He didn't want to hear anymore of it. He had a younger sister to protect after all and dying was not an option.
Lazurin was about to lose all will to live but a priest approached him the same day. However, he did not want to get his hopes up and then have them crushed again. "If you have come to tell me that I will die, you are a bit late," he thought to himself. This priest however said that he knew of someone that might be able to help him and that they would tell this someone about his condition. But before the priest had left him alone with this bit of hope, he had warned Lazurin that the apothecaries might want to 'investigate' if they found out about his illness. The warning left him feeling uneasy.
Not being able to sleep, Lazurin once again sits himself by the window. An unbearable, sick feeling grips him and soon he finds blood in his hand. He coughs and more blood spills from his hand onto the floor. Before he could even think about what was happening to him, someone bursts through the door.
Undead voice: "He is the one we're looking for! Take him down to my study."
Female Tauren voice: "But D..."
Undead voice: "Shhh! be quiet! My name must not be uttered here! Just remove him from here so that he might yet be saved! You there, Peon! This room must not be entered by the living. I can not afford taking any chances of others being infected!" The peon, which the undead had yelled at in the hallway, grunts and runs off to report to his superior.
Narri awoke with a start. Hearing all the commotion through the hall, she jumps out of bed and rushes towards the door. Opening it, she finds an undead, a troll, and a tauren gathered in Lazurin's room. Though the three notice Narri, they don't make eye contact and quickly push by her.
Undead voice: "Quickly, this could be serious!"
The group of three remove Lazurin unconscious from the inn.
Outside, the moon was missing from the sky as it was now pitch black as far as the eye could see.
With nothing but a torch to guide the way, the undead, the troll and tauren bring Lazurin to a small building outside of the hold. All was quiet, except for the chirping of crickets and the distant howling of worgs. They quickly enter the building and close the door behind them.
"Lay him down on that bed over there." The undead points a bony finger to the back of the room as he looks through the window, making sure they were not followed.
"A'ight, mon... Ju be calmin' down. Righ' 'ere, Baha. Nice and easy... He dun be lookin' so good."
"Yes, I know he is not well, but I have faith that D..." She stops herself short, remembering that she was not supposed to say his name. "...that HE can help him."
Meanwhile, the undead busies himself with the closing of windows and the lighting of candles. He then walks over to the fireplace in the room, where he mutters something in an unknown language. Instantly after he finishes, a fire-like light blazes within the hearth, though it produces no heat. "There, now I can work. You there, troll. Take this list and gather the items written upon it. I will need them to run some tests."
In an annoyed tone the troll turns and retorts to the undead, "Dun be callin' me troll, mon. I do 'ave a name and joo know it too!" He sighs, grabbing the list from the undead's hand. "Fine... watevah. I'll be back as soon I can." The troll leaves the building, trying hard not to slam the door behind him.
Bahalen faces the undead. "You know you are really rude sometimes."
"Nonsense!" retorts the edgy corpse. "I am just impatient. If we are to discover the source of this infection and how to cure it, then we need to hurry. There is no time for pleasantries and manners!"
Bahalen raises an eyebrow. "And that's all you care about? To be the first to discover the cure and have all the glory and fame that comes with it? What about his life?" She looks over at Lazurin, worry heavy in her expression.
"Once you have died once... One tends to forget about life," sighs the undead. "Please, Bahalen, I apologize. Finding the source and the cure is the only chance he, and possibly others, will ever have."
Bahalen's eyes widen. "So, you do care. I never thought…" She speaks with a tint of surprise in her voice, but the undead cuts her short.
"Enough, Bahalen. Please, if you would, tend to the boy. You might be able to delay the spread of the plague with your druidic magic. I need to look through some notes." Silence follows as the undead walks over to his desk to shift through some notebooks.
"Yes, sir." Before walking over to the young paladin, Bahalen smiles at the undead as his back turned.
Narri ran after them, curiosity and panic spreading through her. "Are they going to help my brother? Was his injury that serious to be taken away in secret and in such a rush?" She reached the building where the three took Lazurin, only to be stopped by the closed door. The elf approached the entrance slowly, debating if it was best to walk away or to knock. But worry for her brother pushed her forward. She just wanted to barge in to see if Lazurin was alright.
Before she could make a decision a troll walked out, almost slamming the door. The troll appeared upset, and still blistering with fury, he almost walked into Narri. Trying not to sound desperate she asked, "Will you be able to cure my brother?"
"Wha…? Jur brodah? ...That poor kid in dere?" The troll points a blue finger in the direction of the small building. "No... But I was jus' sent off to git sum t'ings that migh' 'elp. Look, I can't stay 'n' chat righ' now. If I dun get back soon, it'll be me head!" The troll hurries off into the darkness riding a blue raptor.
Lights could be seen coming from within the building. Two voices also emanated from the small hut, but only every other word could be heard.
"Have you seen... notes...Northrend plague? Could... fatal."
"...die? There might... hope. There...cure?"
One of the voices now seems to be closer to the door and is more audible. "Did you hear another voice out there besides the troll's?"
Hearing this, Narri decides to reveal herself; she opens the door and walks in. The undead and the tauren stare at Narri, but before the staring could continue, Narri introduces herself.
"My name is Narri Solfury, I am Lazurin's sister. I came to see if he was alright...apparently he is in a worse condition." Narri pauses and looks at her brother, and then asks the same question she asked the troll. "Can you cure him? ...Or does he face death?" Saying these words was hard for Narri, but she sucked in her fear and remained strong.
The undead and tauren look at each other for a moment; silence being the only thing 'heard'. The undead brought a hand to the back of his head, unsure as to what he should say to this Narri person. "Uh... well." He looked over at Lazurin. He asks, "So, he is your brother?" as if Narri hadn't just mentioned it. The undead walks over to Lazurin's bedside, his hands folded behind his back. Finally, he sighs. "Look... Narri, is it? There might not be much I can do until I learn more about the origin of his wound. I sent an assistant of mine out to get some ingredients to make some sort of salve that MIGHT…" He emphasized "MIGHT." "…help to slow the spread of the infection on his shoulder." Another long moment of silence follows, though it is broken when the undead clears his throat and takes a deep breath. "If..." he pauses again, "…if this infection or disease reaches his vital organs, such as his heart or brain, he will die...obviously. But, what I can tell you now is that this disease begins to mature in the area of entrance, in this case his shoulder, and then starts to spread throughout the body. However, it just does not continue to kill the body all at once. And that makes for a slow and painful death…" The undead walks over to his candle-lit desk and looks through a folder.
The tauren walks up to Narri and whispers, "Please, Narri, have a seat. It looks like you will have many questions to ask my undead friend when he is finished explaining what he knows." She then offers Narri a seat near the fire.
The undead drags a finger over various reports and observation notes. "These here are reports of similar cases..." He coughs. "From reading these reports, it does not matter where or how the disease enters the body because its final destination has always been the heart and brain. And this is the interesting part…from what I have seen of other victims, they have all died right before they were to complete an important task or lead some attack. This leads me to believe that this disease is somehow intelligent and/or magical in origin, in which some controller specifies how long the victim will live. Even so, I have no way of knowing that this is true or how to track down said controller." He closes the file folder and places it back on his desk. "This disease is fairly new... These other cases were very recent, only about a few weeks ago in fact. I believe his only hope lies in finding someone to track down this controller and beat... excuse me, I mean negotiate the cure from him or her. There is naught much else I can do for him at the time." The undead pulls up a chair to his desk and sits with his face buried in a hand.
Facing the undead, Bahalen tries to comfort him. "Do not blame yourself... There was not anything you could do to save them."
The undead bangs a fist on his desk. "I could have...but I was always too late! And now another will die because I can not solve this mystery surrounding this disease!" He trembles in pain as memories of his family come to mind. Having revealed so much of himself in those few sentences, the undead becomes a bit embarrassed. "Excuse me, ladies. I need to clear my head." And with that, he walked outside, vanishing into the darkness.
Looking in the direction in which the undead disappeared, a sad expression covers Bahalen's face, but she let it fade, remembering that Narri was still there. "Please, believe me, Narri. He is doing all that he can for your brother. I know that you have many questions and that he would answer them to the fullest, but maybe you should just relay them to me instead. I have been his assistant for all his research thus far and should be able to help you. So... maybe I can prepare some tea to steady our nerves so that we might talk.
Bahalen had given Narri tea and sat down with her. Narri blew on her tea a bit to cool it then took a sip. Instantly she could feel a comforting warmth spread through her aching body, calming her nerves. The tea made her feel slightly better. Grateful for the tauren's hospitality Narri said, "Thank you for the tea, I appreciate your kindness." After taking a few more sips, Narri sets her tea cup down while still holding it with both hands. She quietly inspects the tauren seeing that she was dressed differently than the troll from before. Identifying the tauren's clothes, Narri figures that she is probably a druid. She takes a few more sips of her tea and is thankful for the silence between her and the tauren. She gathered her thoughts, remembering the facts that the undead had given her. He had said that the people infected by this terrifying disease had all died. "But there's still hope," thought Narri. "I will not give up!"
Narri felt useless. Here, these strangers were doing everything they could to help her brother while she just sat there.
"What can I do though? Nothing...but be by his side. What if everything these people are doing doesn't help him? What if I have to stand here and watch him die?"
The thought was unbearable. Narri didn't want to listen to her thoughts anymore, for continuing would drive her mad and that would not help her brother. She clenches her tea almost breaking the cup as cracks formed around it. Realizing what she was doing, she stopped and looked up. Bahalen had finished her tea and was looking at her now, sympathy showed on the tauren's face. Embarrassment made Narri's face flush red. Now wanting to break the silence, Narri asked, "What is your name?"
The druid gave a small smile. "My name is Bahalen. And yes, I am a druid." She chuckles, noticing Narri's eyes widening slightly. "You look surprised, Narri. I know you have a keen eye for identifying those before you. I guessed that you were wondering about my chosen path."
Bahalen held out her right hand across the table the two of them were sitting at. And in her palm, a vision of the sun and moon appeared. At first they came together, becoming one and then they separated, dancing around her hand.
"Druids seek to preserve the balance of nature. Thus, they are somewhat the protectors of all life, much like the red dragons. Though, it is through the green dragon aspect's Emerald Dream that we learn about how all life is connected. Most see everything as being separate and cling to what is familiar to them. However, for those who see with a clearer sight, they would see that we are all life in the same world. We share the same sky, the same earth and the same waters. And if we look even deeper, we share the same emotions of life. Simply, we are all connected. So, since we all are born of the one, we must all one day return to the one." She looks over at Lazurin, her smile disappearing. She faces Narri again after sighing. "Though, it is not always easy for one to watch their loved ones return."
Still staring at the druid, Narri said, "I see..." She looked out the window. The sun was fully up now and its light penetrated through the window making a jagged square on the floor. Dust particles were revealed in the light as they floated in the air.
"Narri," for a moment, Bahalen stared outside at the sunlight. "I need to go for now. If you want, you can wait here for my undead friend to return." Before leaving, Bahalen transforms into a dark-brown, feral cat. She looked at Narri with her light-green, feline eyes and then to Lazurin. "I wish you both well." she said through a mental link. And before Narri could say anything else, Bahalen had leaped out an open window, gone in the blink of an eye.
Outside, the undead's footsteps could be heard slowly approaching the hut. And from the sound of it, he was accompanied by the troll from earlier.
Narri looked at the door for a moment and then to her brother.
"If there is no hope left for him, what should I do? Keep waiting for a cure until he dies or save him from his suffering? What should I do…?"
Narri continued to stare at her unconscious brother, examining his bandaged wound. She heard the footsteps and voices of the undead and troll coming closer and closer. Narri gathered herself up, hiding any trace of pain on her face then looked at the door once more. The door opened.
The undead was holding it open with an arm, but closed it again as he turned to continue arguing with the troll outside. "No, Jitok, that is too risky! If we attempt to sever his soul from his body, he might not be able to return in his condition."
"So, now joo use me name, eh?" snapped the troll.
"Stay on the subject, if you do not mind, please…" said the undead, almost breaking off his thumb bone from clenching a fist.
"Watever, mon. At least I'm tryin' tah tink of sumtin'. Joo jus' push papahs 'round an' read all day."
"Calm yourself. We are not helping anyone by arguing. Besides, a little research would not hurt. At least I might be able to find some clues."
Jitok was indeed skeptical of the undead's methods, but all he could do was grit his teeth and accept the truth. They both didn't know what they could do to save the people dying from this deadly disease.
"Jitok, let us go check on the boy and see how his illness is progressing." The undead gestures towards the door, letting Jitok enter first.
When they enter the hut, however, they were both surprisingly shocked to see that Narri was still there.
"Uhh... joo still 'ere?" asked Jitok hesitantly.
"Jitok!" The undead throws an angry look in the troll's direction, scolding him for asking such a question.
The troll cowers, now remembering that Narri was the sister of the young paladin who was dying. "Ss... Sorry, mon. I be forgettin ' who joo were for a moment dere."
Irritated from such a question, Narri's eyebrows pulled into a v-shape. She was about to get up to yell at the troll, but stopped when the undead spoke.
He shook his head from side to side. "Please forgive him, Narri. He can be a bit scatter-brained from time to time."
Jitok had realized his mistake and had apologized to Narri saying that he could be forgetful. At this Narri let her anger subside. "It's alright." She said with an effort to be as nice as possible.
The undead slowly walked over to Lazurin to examine his shoulder. "Hmm...These wrappings need to be replaced." The undead faces Jitok while pointing a bony finger at a shelf burdened with medical supplies. "Jitok, could you grab some fresh linen bandages for me?"
The troll nodded and busied himself with looking for the bandages. Meanwhile, the undead began to carefully remove the old linen wrappings from Lazurin's shoulder; they were stained with blood, discolored by the infection and let a pungent smell escape into the air.
Jitok stared up at the many shelves of medical supplies with a discouraged face; none of the boxes were labeled. Jitok mutters to himself, "Look at dis mess." He sighs. "Might as well start at deh top shelf." And so, he grabbed a chair to stand on so he could reach the top.
Without even looking back the undead corrected the troll, "No, Jitok, they are on the third shelf. It is the first crate on the left."
A bit startled, Jitok almost fell onto the floor but balanced himself just in time, grasping the side of the shelf for dear life. "How did 'e 'ear me, mon?" The troll shrugged and grabbed the crate that the undead pointed out and carried it to the table in the middle of the room. He placed the crate onto the table's smooth surface and then opened it to prepare the bandages.
"Actually, I am going to need you to prepare the medicine for his shoulder now, Jitok," said the undead as he faced Narri. "Narri, would you help me over here?"
"Of course, but, undead, what is your name?" asked Narri; she thought it only proper to know all the names of the people helping her brother.
The undead turned to Narri and said, "I am known by a few names…but you may call me Djer."
Now feeling better acquainted with the undead, Narri asked, "What do you need help with?"
"I am going to need your help moving Lazurin so we can clean and re-bandage his shoulder," said Djer as he finished removing the old wrappings. "Go on the other side of the bed so we can sit him up."
With Narri on the other side of the bed, Djer was able to move Lazurin so he could work on his shoulder.
"Careful now…There we are, now to clean the wound." Djer faced Jitok. "Jitok, are you done preparing the medicine yet?" He then walked back over to the shelves of medical supplies, removing some clean towels and a bottle containing some white powder.
The troll looked over his shoulder, "Jah, mon, jus' a moment an' I'll be righ' ovah."
Djer placed the items on the table near Lazurin's bed. "Narri, I will return momentarily. I need to obtain some water from outside." Grabbing a pail near the door, Djer made his way outside to a river near the Conquest Hold.
Narri tried carefully to avoid eye contact with the troll. She noticed that Jitok was doing the same. Only seconds had passed, but each one felt like an eternity. With the tension growing thick between the troll and herself, it would seem like forever before Djer got back.
Narri's irritation towards the troll had dispersed. She thought it best to feel more grateful to the troll for helping Lazurin.
"Jitok, is your name, right?" Narri asked. "I thank you for helping my brother."
Jitok jumped and cuts his finger. He had been slicing an ingredient for the medicine that was going to be used on Lazurin's shoulder. He cursed under his breath. "Ouch, mon!" Some warm blood dripped from his finger onto the floor. As he stared at the crimson drops on the floor, Jitok put the cut finger into his mouth. After only a few seconds, it stops bleeding all together. He looks down at his hand. The cut was gone. He faces Narri, the embarrassment showing on his face. "No problem, mon. It be me job tah help people heal."
Before anything else could be said however, Djer returns with the water. He placed the pail down near the fireplace and wondered why things seemed so quiet. Djer looked from Jitok to Narri and then back from Narri to Jitok. "Did something happen? Or am I just imagining things?"
"No, nothin' happened, mon." said the troll hastily. "What joo talkin' 'bout?"
The suspicious corpse raised an eyebrow. "What is that blood on the floor then?"
"Nothin'. I jus' cut mah fingah. Unless joo gonna panic, can we jus' take care of the kid already?" said Jitok nervously, trying to avoid the subject.
"I see. Alright, I need to boil this water before it can be used. And you might as well clean up that blood of yours on the floor, Jitok, it is not sanitary..." Jitok rolled his eyes and proceeded with cleaning up the small mess of blood.
Meanwhile, Djer busied himself with drawing some sort of circle in the middle of the room. He then placed the pail of water into the middle of it and adds some of the mysterious white powder into the cool liquid. A flash of light followed and steam rose from the pail of water. Djer picked it up and moved it closer to Lazurin. "We can use this to clean the wound. The liquid can be poured onto his shoulder and it will kill anything harmful that is still present. Though this will help his shoulder heal, I am afraid we still can not do anything about the disease that is killing him."
"That is alright," said Narri a bit disappointed, "as long as we can do something to ease his pain."
Djer slowly poured the solution onto Lazurin's shoulder. As soon as it made contact with his exposed skin, it began to bubble as it cleaned the wound. "This is not good…he is not responding." Djer dried the area around the wound with a clean towel. "Jitok, bring the medicine over."
"Alrigh'! Keep jur head on, mon! I'm righ' 'ere!" muttered Jitok.
As soon as Jitok brought the prepared medicine over, Djer quickly grabbed it from his hands and applied it. He just as quickly wrapped up the paladin's shoulder. "There." Djer soon cleaned up the room and replaced most of the unused materials. "Jitok, could you finish up in here? Thank you."
"Uhhh…sure. But…" Jitok looked confused.
"Narri, come with me if you would." Not giving her much of a choice, Djer grabbed Narri by the arm and somewhat pushed her outside.
Narri was surprised by Djer's haste and was irritated with him more than she was with Jitok before. If Djer was not helping her brother, she would have hacked off his arm for such rudeness. Once they were outside Narri yanked her arm from his grip and asked, "What are you doing? What is wrong Djer, why the haste?" She looked at Djer and the expression on his face worried her. "What's wrong?" she asked sternly.
Djer was about to give Narri the truth about how much longer Lazurin would live, but he tensed, sensing something hostile. "Narri, quiet your voice and come with me!" The undead quickly mounted a skeletal horse that was outside the hut and waited for Narri to summon her blood charger. Together they rode southeast from the hold.
Once Djer was satisfied with the distance between them and the Conquest Hold, he stopped under a large pine tree and dismounted. Summoning a demon eye, he rapidly searched the area for any prying eyes and to make sure they were not followed.
Narri watched the demon eye float about the small clearing as it blinked and stopped every now and then to inspect random spots. She seemed even more curious about whom this Djer character was because at first he appeared to be an ordinary healer, but now there was a darker air about him. Djer remained silent for many more moments as if waiting for something.
Narri dismounted her blood charger and walked over to Djer. "Who and what are you?" Setting the thought aside, Narri waited until he was done searching the area.
All seemed quiet; not even birds were in the area singing their songs. There was also a cold breeze blowing which gave their surroundings an eerie chill. The breeze swept through her jet-black hair while the trees rustled and dead, dry leaves danced upon the ground.
Narri decided to not ask any questions this time, knowing that Djer would explain everything soon. The eye Djer summoned had disappeared and so she waited once more for him to speak.
Djer sighed with some relief when he found that no one else was in the clearing, but he was still noticeably tense. He walked closer to Narri and maintained a low whisper as he spoke.
"Narri, there is something that you should know..." He kept glancing over his shoulder as if something was going to appear behind him. "There is something that you should know about the victims of this disease." Djer paused only for a second to quickly gather his thoughts. "They all disappeared mysteriously a day before they were 'pronounced' dead. Their bodies were also never accounted for... During my research I stumbled upon many disturbing bits of information that have lead me to believe that there is some sort of conspiracy within the high ranks of the Royal Apothecary Society... From what I know, a multitude of alchemical supplies had also vanished with these missing persons. I can only imagine what these individuals could be planning. But I have reason to believe that they have close ties to..."
Djer never finished the rest of his sentence as three arrows tore though the air and pierced his back. They easily went all the way through him as the sharp points could be seen from his front.
"Not another word, warlock!" yells an unknown voice. You'll soon find that knowing too much could be the death of you!"
Djer shoved Narri out of the way and a ring of fire suddenly encircled her. "You must get back to Jitok and find Bahalen!" he tells her. Narri hesitated, still unsure of what was happening. "GO, NOW!" Djer brought his arm in a slashing motion and Narri found herself forcefully teleported. She staggered from the experience and found herself in the middle of the circle that Djer had drawn on the floor earlier before re-bandaging Lazurin's shoulder.
Frantically looking around, she yelled for Djer but there was no answer. Outside a gigantic fire blazed. And the battle cries of vrykuls upon proto drakes could be heard. Grunts and headhunters scrambled everywhere to combat the invasion, while peons struggled in vain to dowse the torrents of fire that bathed Conquest Hold.
The first thought that came to Narri was to find her brother but she turned to find that his bed was empty. Why had Djer told her to first find Bahalen and Jitok? Had he known that Lazurin would be gone when she returned? What was happening and where was her brother? Before she could even start piecing this mess together, Narri heard someone groaning in pain. It was Jitok.
He lay slumped against the wall in the corner of the room. A giant spear protruded from his stomach with his blood slowly dripping onto the floor and forming into a pool around him. "Nar…Narreh… dey took 'im away... Arghh!" He tensed as pain surged through him, hitting the back of his head against the wall. Jitok then weakly raised an arm pointing towards the shattered entrance of the hut while the other hand clenched the spear. "Dah Vrykul...dey attacked…Dat's when de…undead came 'n' took 'im. Ju got tah find Bah...Bahalen." Jitok coughed up a good amount of blood. His breath started to come in sort gasps as he struggled to hang onto consciousness. But, soon, Jitok drew his last breath and died, still holding the spear with one hand.
Narri could not help but feel sad for the troll. Even though she had just met him, Jitok was helping her brother. He was a complete stranger and for all Narri knew, Jitok could care less. And yet, he was there without being asked to come.
Walking up to the troll, Narri kneels beside him and gently closes his eyes. "Thank you…" she whispered, trying to hold back a flood of tears. Narri then walked outside and stood upon the ground, observing all the chaos around her.
Bahalen had not been gone long when she saw black smoke rising above the trees. "No! DJER! JITOK!" Running with all the speed and strength she could muster, Bahalen made her way back to the Conquest hold. She skidded to a stop. Narri was standing outside the small hut and had taken her by surprise. "Narri…What happened?"
Narri took a moment to respond because she was still in shock. Too much had happened too fast. "Djer was attacked and somehow teleported me to safety." She continued to speak; her voice was unchanging and she did not blink. "I found Jitok…before he died." It pained her to watch the troll die. "My brother is missing as well…"
"What?" said Bahalen with a roar. The fur on her back stood up as she hissed while baring her fangs. "Where is Djer? Is he alive?"
"I don't know…" said Narri hopelessly. Bahalen was now pacing back and forth, eyes narrowed with a snarl; her blood was spreading her primal fury through her body. Bahalen's whiskers twitched with anger. "Djer told me this might happen before we came here, but how did he know? Wait…" Her eyes widened. "Narri, who attacked you and Djer?"
Narri thought back to when Djer had saved her in the clearing, but she had only caught a glimpse of the attackers. "They were undead… Someone had shot him with arrows...They seemed to be wearing strange masks."
Bahalen dug her claws into the ground. "Everything Djer had told me came true…How did he know?" She then looked up at Narri. Determination was deeply embedded within her green, feline eyes. "I believe all will be revealed in Dragonblight…at the Wrathgate."
A vulture circles a camp that overlooks the Wrathgate from the heights of a snowy cliff. Soon, more come to join its patrol, forming a vortex around the entire area.
Within one of the tents of the secluded camp, an apothecary stands among an assortment of vials, volatile chemicals, and other alchemical equipment. Behind him, a bloody operating table stood with someone strapped down to it. It was Lazurin. And he was still alive, but just barely.
The apothecary holds up a small vial in his hand as he inspects the quality of its contents. He then adds a small proportion of a red solution into it. The concoction fizzles and then settles as it glows with a crimson hue. "This will do nicely," he cackles.
Lazurin weakly turned his head to face the demented apothecary. "You'll never get away with this!"
"So says every hero, blood elf, but we have already gotten away with it. And soon we will unleash our vengeance upon the world. It's all thanks to your blood." The apothecary readies a syringe, now filled with the concoction, and walks over to Lazurin. "You should be proud. This plague would have never become so potent without you. All the other hosts were…inadequate. Thanks to you, are plans were made possible."
Lazurin glared up at the apothecary, blood escaping from his mouth. "Never!" He spat into the apothecary's face.
"You living filth!" yells the apothecary. In a blinded rage, he backhands Lazurin in the face and drives the needle into his neck.
The swarm of vultures settled outside the camp as they stared down at the now gathered Horde and Alliance forces. Death was coming and with it a never ending hunger that they could finally sate.