It was midday when the steamship Kraken brought the shore of Northrend into view for the first time. I stood on the deck, clutching the icy railing and trying to keep my stomach. As much as my body revolted sailing, I wouldn't have turned this opportunity down for the world. A chance to finally prove my courage to the Knights of the Silver Hand on the front lines! I'd waited all my life for this. Behind me paced three dozen recruits from all across Stormwind's domain, ready to battle the Scourge in whatever capacity they could. They were all wet behind the ears though, not a solid warrior among them.

As the polar wind lashed our faces with spindrift, I held tight. The entire boat rocked with the surf but my eyes were fixed on the nearing docks. Deckhands took sledges to the ever-thickening ice that caked the exterior of the ship, the dull thwack-thwack of their hammers forming a kind of rhythm for the entire voyage. The engines slowed as we approached and a flurry of activity on the shore welcomed us. Men lined up, ready to unload all our precious supplies. As the ramp was cleared of ice and slammed down on the port, the men behind me took off towards the recruitment lines, which were already flush with eager bodies. I joined them, looking the place over as I went.

Valiance Keep, what a fitting name for the Alliance's bulwark against the Scourge. In spite of its constant state of war I found the people hardy and the Keep itself as solid as the bedrock on which it was founded. Clearly the Alliance's finest weren't giving these bastards an inch. Almost as soon as I fell into the line I was pulled aside by a grizzled looking paladin. "Are you Sir Abrams?" he addressed me.

I gave him a quick salute, "Yes, sir."

He saluted back, then wiped the frost from his brown and grey beard, "Glad to have you with us, I'm Sir Aleister Sherman." He beckoned me to follow as he walked towards the barracks, "There's no reason for you to stand in line with the recruits, Abrams. We need our seasoned people in the field, and I mean yesterday."

Dockhands unloaded the Kraken in a fire line, box after box being passed down to waiting carts. Pieces of cargo were shuffled all around us as we walked. "What's the situation?" I asked, "And please, call me Jack."

"Wait, don't tell me you're Jerk Radical!" he said. Oh boy, I shouldn't have opened my mouth. "I'll tell you what's going on, Jerk. We're under constant siege. There's been no breach in our defenses so far, but we're testing our luck every minute we're not on the offensive. That's why I requested backup."

Trying to remain cordial I said, "I'll do what I can, sir."

"Not you, you nitwit!" he barked.

Taken aback I stuttered, "Um… okay?"

He gave me a glare, the snow in his bushy eyebrows adding to his cold disposition, "Gnomish air support is due to strike the enemy flanks this evening, followed by a surge from an Ironforge battalion arriving tomorrow morning. That's why I need you and every other pally-come-lately in position."

"In position for what, exactly?" I asked indignantly.

"In position to take a hammer up the ass if you take that tone with me again," he snarled.

I didn't say anything. The other paladins didn't respect me and I'd made no friends after failing to get the Blood Elves on friendly terms with the Silver Hand. Then you add disappearing for two years and doing a job for the Horde and it starts to look like I defected. I had a lot to prove on this battlefield.

As we entered the barracks he led me upstairs. Paladins and hardened warriors patrolled the narrow wooden halls, each going over orders, attending to their armor, or looking at maps. The command center was a flurry of activity as Draenei consultants and busy Dwarven officers talked with Alliance commanders about the counteroffensive. As I approached the table, upon which was a massive sprawling map, I scanned the room. Something felt off, I could feel the taint of undeath even here.

Sir Sherman directed my attention to the bottom portion of the map, specifically an area directly to our north, between Valiance Keep and the Tuskarr lands of Kaskala. "This is where you're going to be, it's on the route the air support is using. You're going to be their beacon."

"Their beacon for what?" I asked.

He pointed to a hill marked with a strategic pin, "This is the crucible of the Scourge's northern offensive, where all their troops are coming from. They use underground burrows, Abrams. Traditional means of cutting supply lines are useless, but a few well placed bombs and those damned Scourge will be buried once again."

"Alright," I said, "but you still haven't told me what you want me to do."

He handed me a flare gun, "You're going to signal the attack."

I looked at the gun, it was like an oversized flintlock with little dum-dum fireworks tied to it. This seemed way too simple and pointless for a paladin. "Wouldn't this be a job better suited for a ranger or a hunter?" I asked.

"It's a job better suited for a child, Jerk, and you're the closest we've got," he shot back.

I threw the gun in the leather pouch on my hip, "Fine, I'll do it. Just tell me where you want me to move."

Sir Sherman shook his head, "I'm not leaving you to your own devices. The last time we sent you off on your own you got lost. For two years."

There it was. Not that he wasn't right, but the fact I had to just sit there and take it ate me alive. Biting my tongue and taking a deep breath I replied, "So how do you intend for me to get in position?"

At this he turned and pointed at a figure standing in the corner, "You there, Deathwhisper or whatever the hell they call you."

"It is Rimewind," came a raspy, metallic voice.

"Right, get over here."

As this person stepped forward I felt a weight in my stomach. The thick blackened plate, the chilly aura, this was no paladin. As they neared I felt fear creep up my back. This wasn't the casual sense of undeath I got off a Forsaken, it was much more powerful. And their demeanor, so spooky, too spooky for me. Even a Forsaken will twitch or move or lean, sometimes they'll even absent-mindedly start breathing again. They have traits leftover from their old lives still buried in them somewhere, old habits that refused to die with their bodies. This person though was like an automaton, a living statue of armor standing before a table of hardened but lively veterans.

"Duskwelder here will escort you to the rally point," he said, not even bothering to look at this…thing.

I glared across the table, "…You're not a paladin."

"Nice job, Abrams! Keep those eyes sharp and maybe someday you'll make Field Marshal!" he said, clapping me on the shoulder. The other officers at the table smirked and shook their heads. "No, what we have here is a genu-ine Death Knight."

"By the Light!" I cried, my hand reaching for my hammer.

"Keep your shirt on!" he replied, "This one here's sworn over to our side from the Knights of the Ebon Blade. By order of King Varian Wyrnn they're to be treated as Alliance soldiers."

I stared at him like a gnome stares at a mechanical chicken, "You can't be serious. The Lich King doesn't have defectors!"

"Apparently he does. I don't like it either but unlike some people I don't question orders, especially when it's help offered. My king says Dirthswinger is fighting for the Alliance, and Light forgive me, but that's all I need to hear."

Now I'd been out of the loop for a while, especially regarding Stormwind politics. But I would have thought Death Knights, even if they managed to crack whatever shock collar the Lich King had them on, would be killed on sight by any Alliance soldier, let alone the King himself. Sure, I'd heard rumors of rebel Death Knights while in Stormwind, I even heard a few circulating on the boat, but this went far beyond some scuttlebutt. It was so bizarre, I wasn't able to take it all in.

Figuring I had nothing else to say on the matter, Sir Sherman continued, "You two will be on the hill and in charge of signaling the assault, as I said. It's a very straightforward plan. You get to the hill, you wait for confirmation from the gnomish planes, and you fire the flare over the enemy position. Any questions?"

"Yeah," I said, still a little overwhelmed, "If this Death Knight knows the way why doesn't it just take the flare itself?"

Sir Sherman smirked, "That's the beauty of my genius, Abrams." He thumbed towards the creature, "I don't trust this Death Knight enough not to screw us over when the chips are down." Then he pointed at me, "And I don't trust you not to get lost going to the latrine. If I have you go together though it all evens out. I'll either have a signal flare over the enemy position or you'll both desert us and wander the tundra for a couple years. Either way you'll be out of my hair."

I felt my expression grow sour but I didn't say anything. As usual the Silver Hand was throwing me under the tram. My success or failure here was really inconsequential, there were probably a dozen other beacons at least getting in position as we spoke. Sir Sherman just wanted me out of his way, and if he could help it, out of the war. Hell, for all he cared this Death Knight could murder me the second we left Valiance Keep.

"Go to the armorer and get your gear, Abrams," Sir Sherman ordered. "Dustbuster, meet him by the gate in half an hour. Dismissed."

With a half-hearted salute I walked out, the Death Knight right behind me. Its cold, metallic presence was extremely unnerving, it was like I couldn't think straight with it staring at me like that. As we walked outside and into the daylight however I felt a little better. I'll get through this, I thought to myself. I've worked with Forsaken before, this won't be any different. Sure, this… animal used to be one of the Lich King's finest, but now they were on our side, apparently. I could do this, one mission together and I'd be smiting Scourge on the front.

After collecting and assembling my plate armor I started towards the gates of Valiance Keep. Grelmen's blacksmith friend in Ironforge managed to get the armor I hastily assembled in Stonard back to its former glory. What's more he even painted it with the Silver Hand's coat of arms. No more mismatched pieces, it finally matched my draenic helmet and dwarven shield. In addition to collecting my gear I also picked up a thick fur cloak from a local vendor. Normally these things would cost an arm and a leg in Stormwind but here they were dirt cheap. Apparently it had something to do with poachers in the area driving the cost down. Either way, by the time I met the Death Knight I was well adorned and snuggly warm.

Standing by the gate, with war raging just a few hundred yards over the hill, the Death Knight waited for me. Once again it stood eerily still, maybe this wouldn't be just like working with a Forsaken. As I neared, it addressed me, "Are you prepared to move out?"

"Yes," came my terse response. Let's get this over with.

"Good," it said, "then let us get this over with."

It started off to the north as I did a double-take. Did I say that out loud? "Hey," I said, following, "what are you doing here?"

"I have always been here," it stated.

"I mean working for the Alliance," I reiterated, "what could your kind have to gain from this?"

"What business is it of yours?"

"I need to know a little something about the people I work with. It keeps things friendly," I replied. My hand rested on my hammer ever so casually.

Without so much as turning its head, the creature replied, "The Horde, the Alliance, the Ebon Blade, they all share a common enemy: The Lich King, who you know as Arthas. Even before his corruption though, the Scourge enslaved me and my comrades." The Death Knight dipped its head "This is long overdue retribution."

"Yeah, but the Ebon Blade probably wouldn't shun you like the Alliance. Not saying you don't deserve it or anything." That last bit kinda spilled out but it sounded about right.

"I have my reasons," it replied.

Trudging through the snow and ice was no simple task in more than fifty pounds of plate steel and weaponry. The Death Knight strode forward undaunted while I slumped with every step. Wrapping my cloak around me, I pulled the hood down over my face as wind whipped the snow over us. The sounds of battle grew more distant as we cleared the front unnoticed by way of the deep impeding drifts. Then the Death Knight halted.

"Wait," it said, "do you feel that?"

"Yeah," I replied, drawing my hammer and shield. The Scourge were nearby, but where? I looked around wildly but all I could see was tundra. In the distance was the Keep, the ocean, and fields of white. Then I felt a rumble beneath my feet.

"There!" it shouted. Leaping back it narrowly dodged a zombie bursting from the frozen ground. The Nerubian holes were covered by fresh snow, and soon we found ourselves surrounded by the fiends.

Charging my hammer with the power of the Light, I lunged at the nearest Scourge. Crushing it beneath my holy wrath, the zombie shattered into bones and frozen flesh. Two more took its place, their claws scratching at my plate. This Rimewind character removed the enormous runeblade from its back and struck the nearest zombie, cleaving it straight in two.

I laid down a consecrate, sanctifying the ground beneath us and burning the undead where they stood. Almost as soon as I had though, I found the earth infected with death and decay emanating from the Death Knight. I cast my reckoning against another, drawing it near and striking true, only to have the Scourge drawn away by Rimewind's death grip. These foes were easily handled but we were tripping over each other, our magics and abilities completely incompatible. More than once I nearly sunk my hammer between the Death Knight's plates as it ran between me and my opponent, and more than once I felt its icy touch intended for a zombie. As the last Scourge fell we turned to each other, weapons still in hand.

"Mind your spells, paladin. You are not alone on this battlefield," it said.

"Funny, I was about to tell you the same thing," I replied.

The Death Knight sank its blade into the skull of a vanquished zombie, "Do not test me."

"Or else what?" I shot back. "Don't forget, traitor, we're both out here for the same reason."

"Traitor?" Slowly the Death Knight removed its helmet, revealing the pale, undead face of a female Blood Elf. Her hair was a deep pink and her eyes glowed with an unnatural frosty blue, like two holes into her vacant soul. "Wretched paladin," she said, "you know nothing of which you speak."

"Figures it'd be an elf," I muttered.

She gestured over the frozen tundra, "For years I have marched and fought and slain across this continent in the name of the Lich King. Unthinking, unfeeling, a puppet for the master to play with as he chose."

"Sounds about right," I said.

She looked back at me with a scowl, "I would not be as I am, were it not for a quest like the one your foolish Silver Hand embarks on now. How little they learned from our mistakes." She removed her sword from the corpse, "The only traitor in this land is your vaunted Light."

I didn't expect such a blatant admission of heresy, "I knew you couldn't be trusted. You're just as twisted as the day you were turned."

"There is no trust in Northrend, paladin, and the only salvation you'll find is at the end of your blade."

We stared at each other for the better part of a minute, neither of us moving. I wasn't sure if this creature was trying to turn me or just talk me to death. Either way, I didn't want her at my back. Realizing she wasn't going to strike first, I carefully put my weapons away. "We'll settle this once the mission is done," I said flatly.

"I can wait," she replied, shouldering her blade.

Together we walked towards the hill once again. I didn't know what to make of this Death Knight. If she was so hostile towards the Light, why was she working with paladins to begin with? Certainly they were skeptical of her motives or else she wouldn't be on a do-nothing mission like this with me. If her goal was to establish trust this wasn't the way to do it; bad-mouthing the Light to an Order member. I figured she must have her own reasons, as she said. Maybe some sinister goal was spinning the gears in that undead mind of hers. Perhaps she really just wanted to strike back against the Lich King, but why put up with such terrible quests? The Knights of the Ebon Blade would certainly be a better choice. I mulled it over as we walked on but still couldn't make any sense of it when at last we were in position.

The hill had a sweeping view of the entire northern front, we'd be able to signal the flyers no problem. "Absolutely perfect," I said, gazing down at the fields below, "Now all we do is wait."

The Death Knight stood behind me, not moving. I could see the dim blue of her eyes fixed on me beneath her nearly solid helmet. Her presence was overpowering my senses, the waves of negative energy she exuded filled me with disgust.

"You got something to say, traitor?" I barked.

She let out a metallic laugh, "Oh paladin, such tall words. Do you have the faintest notion to whom you are speaking?"

"Enlighten me."

She took her helmet off again, presumably so I could see the condescending smirk on her face. Undead or not, those elves know how to flaunt their superiority. "Death Knights are among the most powerful of the Lich King's soldiers, and I was superior among even those ranks."

"And now you're on a hill with a flare gun," I said. I'd seen this song and dance before and I wasn't impressed.

She shook her head, "Tell me, have you ever seen a Scourge being created? Have you witnessed undeath?"

I didn't answer. To be honest I hadn't, just the after effects, and those were usually smashed by my hammer sooner or later.

Rimewind chuckled. Her voice was dry and throaty without her helmet on, "It is exhilarating. The terror it invokes, the despair. You spend your entire life bolstering people with a faith in the Light that I can dissolve with a single act."

"Keep your lecheries to yourself," I said, turning away.

"Would it trouble you," she said, moving behind me, "to know how many souls I have stripped?"

I said nothing.

"Or how many were paladins?"

I spun around, swinging at her with my hammer, but she was just out of reach. "Be silent, blasphemer!"

Her lips curled into a smile, showing off her bone-white teeth. With a swift motion she drew her sword and struck at me. I jumped out of the way, feeling the curse of her blade as it swished through the air. She righted herself and raised her blade in a combat stance, "It has been too long since I have indulged in stripping a knight of his conviction."

Drawing my shield I dusted off my badass one-liners, "You will burn in my righteous fire!"

Our weapons clashed, my hammer glancing off her blade, its holy seals popping and searing against the evil magic of her runeblade. She swung, parried, and struck me across the chest, sending me flat on my back. "What a joke," she said, "is this what the Order sends to war now? Useless initiates?"

I stood, readying myself once again. If this Death Knight wanted a fight, I would put her back in the ground where she belonged. With a battle cry I charged forward, the snow slowing me just enough to let her fall into a defensive stance. I unleashed a flurry of blows, pressing her back further and further, like the Orcs did in their training. Eventually she found a break in my attack and kicked me away, only to be struck with my judgment. The Light scorched her armor but left her mostly untouched.

She eyed me over, "Unusual technique, but transparent." Raising her blade I felt the ground beneath me drop in temperature. By the time I looked down I was shackled in freezing spikes. The veins of jagged ice pierced my skin and I felt my head sear with icy pain. Unable to think straight, the Death Knight approached and struck me dead on, sending me flying back into the snow. I tumbled once and landed on my back, staring straight up, frozen to my core and barely able to move.

I heard the dull thunk of her boots as she walked towards me. Cocking my head up, I saw her put her sword on her back. One of her arms was stretched towards my face as she put on that evil grin again. Expecting some fiendish torture, I steeled myself for whatever was about to happen. Her eyes swelled with sadistic delight as dark magic dripped from her hand. Then her expression dulled. It was like a pall was cast over her face. Her hand shook, the energy in it gradually dissipating. Eventually her eyes returned to the blank, deadpan, glowing holes they were before.

I grunted, "What is it? Not going to finish the job?"

The Death Knight looked like she was going to speak, but we were both interrupted by a low rumble in the distance. Gnomish flyers were on their way, their position covered by the dense snowclouds. Frantically reaching into my pouch, I pulled out the flare gun.

"Shoot it, you fool!" Rimewind shouted.

"My fingers are frozen you useless-" *POW* The flare went off in the direction of the Nerubian tunnels leaving a trail of orange all the way. Sure enough, a dozen other flares flew in the distance, each one illuminating the tunnel exits. Gnomish bombers dove from the clouds, payloads at the ready. However, as they closed with their targets, Scourge flyers began striking them out of the air. Gargoyles and flying Nerubians grappled with the lightweight planes, bringing them cascading through the air. What bombs hit their targets didn't do enough damage to collapse the tunnels and most of the planes resorted to dog-fighting. Our job was done but it was for naught.

"Damnable Scourge," we both muttered. I glanced at Rimewind, then returned my attention to the battlefield below us.

"Those flares are going to attract every Scourge unit in the area," I said, "And those tunnels are still open."

The Death Knight stared at the chaos below, "The Lich King's forces here are considerable. It is likely they will break the front lines with an all out offensive." Dawning her helmet, she started down the hill.

Scrambling to my feet I called out, "Where do you think you're going? The Scourge are going to be crawling all over this ridge any moment!"

"Exactly," she said.

Thinking about it for a second, I shoved the flare gun back in my pouch and charged after her. The only thing standing between the Alliance regulars and certain death now was the two of us and whatever fools managed to get stuck signaling the other flanks. We were probably going to die out here, the two of us against god only knows how many undead, but we'd take as many as we could on our way down. It would be brutal and glorious. The thrill of honorable combat filled my heart as I rushed ahead to the tunnels where we were ambushed before, waiting for the abominations to emerge. Rimewind stood across from me, her negative energy pulsing across the ground. Once in position neither of us moved, we were sensing the air for taint. Plague was on the breeze, and a familiar rumble came from all sides. The enemy approached.

"I pray you are not as weak as you seem," the undead elf said aloud. "Do not hold back."

Don't hold back? Jack Radical always gives one hundred and ten percent in combat. I just hoped this so-called Death Knight could keep up. As we scanned the horizon, the image of skeletal warriors began to lumber into view. Their silhouettes against the evening sky numbered far more than any other Scourge pack I'd seen. This was indeed an entire army approaching. The ground was now shaking as zombified claws grasped their way through the cracking permafrost.

"Aranal!" the elf shouted. Suddenly, a dozen zombies rose forth and began ripping the newly surfaced Scourge apart. This evened the odds as the undead clashed with one another, but I couldn't tell what was going on. Was this Death Knight still able to control the Lich King's minions?

Tearing my attention away from the spectacle I'd just witnessed, I charged an emerging Nerubian. "Lok'tar ogar!" I cried, laying into it with my Light-infused weapon. I guess my time with Nikki left more of an impression than I thought. The exoskeleton of the fiend shattered at my blow, the wound glowing and burning the creature within. Skeletal warriors descended the hill, surrounding our position. I ran towards them, hammer in hand, and laid down another consecrate. The ice beneath me glowed in holy light as their skeletal bodies steamed and burned in the searing heat of my righteousness. Yet as soon as one wave fell, another took its place.

Skulls were crushed and ghouls were burned. Nerubians were driven back in their holes and zombies were torn asunder. Against our best efforts their numbers refused to wane, and even after we slew over a hundred Scourge soldiers more and more crept from the hidden tunnels. Eventually my mana began to fade. I turned to Rimewind, she was still cutting a swathe through the enemy without missing a beat. Didn't she ever get tired? My hammer struck down even more Scourge, but as was bound to happen, one of the monsters got through. A skeletal warrior found a chink in my armor and sliced me open. With my blood pouring onto the snow, I struck back, only for a zombie to latch onto my plates with its fangs.

The monstrosities took me down. I was about to throw up my blessing of protection when a flash of blackened steel reduced them both to limp corpses in one fell swoop. Surprised, I slammed my hammer into the ground and pulled myself up. With a flash of light I was healed, returning to the fray. My senses were overwhelmed by the sounds of battle so I must not have heard the noise of engines in the distance. Suddenly I felt myself enveloped in the grip of undeath as I was hurled across the battlefield towards the wretched elf. What treachery was this!? I turned around to see the gnomish dive-bombers making another run. Their payloads struck true this time, pounding the tunnels closed and taking most of the Scourge out with them. Several payloads dropped right where I'd been standing.

Through panting breaths and with arms raised I cried, "Victory!" What Scourge remained ran aimlessly, too scattered and injured to regroup. Exhausted and sore, I slumped into a snowbank as the last of them trailed off into the distance. Rimewind watched them with a look of cool satisfaction. "Not so bad, eh?" I said.

"You start off too strong and tire quickly," she said, "You need to work on your endurance."

I started hacking as the bitter cold air raked my throat with every gasp, "Yeah, yeah, I get that a lot."

"Still, you fight with valor." She shouldered her sword, "You are worthy of your title."

I chuckled, "Yeah, well, you weren't so bad yourself."

"Truth be told I could have handled that entire surge alone," she said in that same monotone voice.

"Oh really?"

"Probably, but nonetheless I am glad I did not have to find out."

Shaking my head, I hoisted myself up again and started trundling towards the Keep. All things considered this mission went well. The tunnels were closed, the mission was a success, and dozens of Scourge fell to my hammer. As we clattered down the hill though the adrenaline began to wear off and my disposition became less casual. I was too quick to trust a comrade in arms, this Death Knight was no friend of mine. That said, perhaps she would be useful to our cause after all. So long as I didn't get paired with her again and she kept her mouth shut about the Light, I could live and let...unlive.