Chapter Four
Changing the Horde
Tzara was insane, well, obviously, but I couldn't believe she was actually taking me to the Undercity. We entered through the gates, and I got an eyeful of the ruins of Lordaeron. I might not have been a huge history buff, but I didn't know anyone who didn't know the name Arthas, and anyone who was human had heard what he did to Lordaeron.
"Can you really hear the ghosts of the massacre in the throne room?" I asked, looking around at the crumbling stone and shivering when I realized that there were gravestones in the middle of the yard.
"Spooky, huh?" asked Tzara, making me jump a little at how close she had gotten to my ear. I glared over my shoulder at the obnoxious troll and rubbed my ear where her hot breath had brushed against it. We made our way across a wooden bridge where not only the smell of what was under us caught my attention, but the sheer neon green of it. Instead of water in the moat around the castle door, there was this slime that beyond being offensive to the sight, was worse to the nose. It smelled like a thousand farts combined with rotting carcasses and excretion. My nose tried to bury itself in my face even as I walked cautiously forward to peer into the gunk, trying to see if a bone or half a carcass of a horse or something would bob to the surface.
My shirt tried to choke me as I was pulled back into a cuddle with the obnoxious shaman, who nuzzled my neck and chuckled.
"As much fun as it would be to watch you swim in that crap, Sweets," said the troll and then she actually nipped my ear, "I would rather not deal with the smell afterwards. Maybe we can go for a dip after we're done in the Undercity."
I glared at her, but she just let go of me enough to get out of her hold. The troll laughed, but let me dance away from her grip. I was almost immediately run over by another high level adventurer. I cursed and watched as the orc on his ridiculous mount went by without even glancing my way. I mean, at least even the low level are alert and knowledgeable enough to wonder what is going on when a human was entering their horde city. Instead this guy just walked on by like it was a normal for humans with horde members as their designations to be wandering into their territory.
The path led us to a stone chair. I slowly meandered to the middle of the room where light filtered down. I don't know what drew me, but for a time I felt frozen where I stood. Breath caught as I just stared at the empty chair.
Then someone ran through me. Literally ran through me. I let out a little squeak and noticed the very thinly garbed, no doubt low level blood elf pick up her heels and sprint away from me. I looked down on my hands, sure that they were as incorporeal as a ghost. Had Tzara somehow really killed me in that graveyard and then pretended I was human to ease my way into the horde. Or since this was Tzara, probably to screw with my head.
Then Tzara's ridiculous staff knocked me silly, my health taking a severe dip. I coughed and went for my blades, but pain laced up my fingers and paralyzed my arms even as the shaman turned me over. I got a glimpse of a smooth, emotionless face with a clawed hand surrounded with electricity before the claws bit hard into my chest and my body convulsed even as my spirit fled.
Thankfully I didn't go far, just to the gravestones outside the door. Of course, when I made my way back to the stone chair, I realized that the stupid troll had moved my body again. I sighed and looked to see where the arrow led me. Down a corridor or two I found Tzara sitting on her knees in front of a Kro-kron Overseeing orc, petting my hair and cooing at my body. I made a disgusted grunt and was sure to materialize a good four feet away from her and glared for all I was worth. The stupid troll just smiled. Standing up and brushing herself off.
"Hello there Sweets, you ready?" asked Tzara and a panel behind her opened fast with a snick revealing a round room on the other side. I stared at it, confused for a moment before crossing my arms stubbornly and glaring. The troll looked unimpressed, folding her own arms as the door quickly slammed down shut behind her. "Or I could go down myself and let you suffer the effects of being away from me."
"Why did you kill me?" I asked quickly, hoping to keep her from leaving me on the ground unable to move, the very thought of it sending a shiver of fear that clouded my mind and almost made me scream the question.
"Because I wanted to know if you were really there or had somehow become intangible or something," said the troll. I stared at her for a moment, a twinge going up my arm that made me twitch.
"You do realize that you have been touching me and that you didn't have to kill me to figure it out?" I demanded. The troll just shrugged. "You're an idiot."
"That's my Sweets," said the troll with a happy, crinkly smile. She turned abruptly to head into the newly opened door. I quickly followed her, just making it before the door slid quickly down behind me. I sighed and then squeaked, crouching to the ground. I glanced over to see Tzara was happily jumping into the air, apparently enjoying the suspension and falling back with that stupid grin on her face. Finally the lift stopped and Tzara picked me up by the armpits and swung me out of the chamber. "While we do need to do more of that to acclimate you to basic ways of travel. We have shit to do, and I want to do it now."
"And you're the important one," I snapped. The troll gave me a slap on the back.
"I'm glad to see that you can learn," said Tzara happily. I might have tried to deck her then, but Tzara easily steered me so we were heading down the path toward the middle of the city and I turned a distinct shade of putrid green. It stunk. To this day, I'm not sure how to describe it. For a while I thought I was either imagining or exaggerating the smell in my mind, or that Tzara had put some horrible spell on me. But no, I eventually caught sight of a blood elf who seemed to be under the same sort of idea and to the amusement of those around him, he throwing up. I didn't upchuck, but it was a close thing. I actually seemed to have a complete sense of myself for a couple of seconds, and when I did come to I was leaning against Tzara who was leading me into a huge round chamber where that neon green junk flowed out of stone carved sculls to collect below.
"You coming to?" asked the troll, and I was surprised to note she actually sounded irritated. She caught my eye and roll her eyes. "The Horde really is horrendous at making jokes. I swear, in the last minute that you've been reeling, I've been asked by every passing idiot if all the color jumped off you when you realized that the undead actually had their own city."
"Of course I know they had their own city," I said, and then gulped, tasting a little bit of acid in my throat. "That's completely retarded."
"Like I said, horde humor, everyone is so original," said the troll dryly.
"You're part of the Horde," I snapped at her.
"Isn't it embarrassing?" asked the troll. I glanced over at her, trying to figure out if she was being ironic. "But it's home. Now, let's go to the bank first. I think I have some snowballs with your name on them."
We went down a thin wood bridge. I took a moment to look around. I mean, yes this was the worst situation I had somehow stumbled into, but what other time was I going to be able to just stroll through Horde territory. Alright, the fact I had to do it while tied to a horde moron and surrounded by the idiots also. It was actually really impressive. The entire thing was a carved out stone chamber with little sections on the top level where various Forsaken vendors were hawking their wares. The entire place was decorated with various death imagery.
Of course, the entire design also contributed to the fact that this was essentially a sewer system, and the smell confirmed it. Tzara walked by the bank in the center and tapped her feet quickly down the steps, a pain shoot through my body in warning when I didn't immediately follow her. Still, why did we come down here? The smell was seriously going to make me pass out as we got closer to the green slime. It was also a bit weird that the troll never actually stopped at the bank. No snowballs or the like. We were just really close to the green slime.
The Undercity, besides being the sewer, was actually very impressive. It actually said a lot about the people and the nation that had built this. Either they had put a lot into the sewer and sanitation systems, or they had truly been a beautiful nations, once. Now of course, the upper level of the castle was crumbling, and outside the castle walls it was hard to believe there had been civilization of any sort with all the green and trees. It also said something about the remnants of the Forsakens' humanity that there were signs they tried to make the sewer look more inviting, with little touches like the drapes hanging on the stone walls.
We entered to where even more green slime sat stagnant and seemingly alive in a trench. Little green bubbles formed and popped and released a denser ore stomach turning stink into the air. I really didn't want to think about what was actually in the green slime. Perhaps the rotting bodies of the Forsaken still with mind but with bodies too ravaged by time to stay together.
We had turned a corner, a big fat rat crossing our paths and Tzara, the idiot troll, looking around like she had forgotten why she had gone there in the first place.
Then the tension was cut like a knife and all hell broke loose. I hadn't even realized that there had been tension in every muscle of the horde so tightly wound that it's release was like letting loose a spring wound too tight and hard. Tzara grabbed me around the middle, and I found myself flying backward as blood splattered itself across the stones. Every horde citizen walking or selling wares seemed to have lost their mind as they charged and brutally tore apart the Kro-kron Guards.
My back hit the green and the liquid appeared to suck me under. I took a breath in, but too late. Liquid entered into my mouth. At first I was in too much shock to taste the slime. The thick liquid making my limbs feel heavy and out of my control. Then the vicious taste scorched my mouth, killing my taste buds. The slime itself stung every orifice and made my eyes sting even as I kept them closed tight. It was like when I had been learning to make my poisons and they got under finger, or I didn't clean well enough and got a taste of what I would be dealing to other poor unsuspecting souls.
Within seconds I had my feet under me, my chest already feeling like it would explode with the need to throw up. My feet scrabbled against the stone, my toes hitting something that squelched and wriggled in the thick liquid. I reached up, but I hit what felt like a stone wall. My hands and fingers slipped over a slick barrier, trying to find where I could once again surface. Finally I found a break swell of gas and pressure that propelled my hand up and broke the surface only briefly before my hand was sucked under again.
The phantom of fear graced my mind as I started to feel that life begin to slowly slip away from me.
A big hand wrapped around my arm, and with a feeling of unquenched relief, I was pulled and my body finally broke the surface. I held tight to my rescuer. Grateful that they were strong enough to carry me, and curled and coughed and vomited all over them. I was carefully lowered to the ground and shook all over. I never wanted to be close to that gunk again. I was definitely paying for my unnatural interest in the undead.
"You almost done Sweets?" asked the troll close to my ear. I jumped in surprise, fear making my heart beat hard against my chest. The fear quickly retreated to be replaced by anger. I made an abortive move to strangle her, only to be stopped by a wave of pain. "Come on. We have to get the ink and leave."
"What is going on? Has the entire Horde gone mad?" I asked. Bodies of the guards littered the ground and some Forsaken members appeared to be trying to rip the bodies apart. And the weird part was that they appeared to be succeeding.
"Come all, join us and take back the Horde!" shouted an ethereal voice that shook the entire castle. Tzara made a sound that almost sounded like a hiss of anger.
"Let's go," snapped the troll, lifting me to stand on shaky feet. She dragged me, but still I saw that things just didn't seem right. There appeared to be all sort of adventurers, all looking high level with wicked looking blades while lumbering creatures that looked like cobbled together ogres with ribs sticking from their blue flesh and an extra arm or two sticking from their backs took the place of where the guards were stationed.
"I want the best parchment you got," snapped Tzara, for some reason almost throwing me onto the table. The Inscription Trainer looked at Tzara, seemingly bored and relaxed even as other Horde members moved around like fires had been lit under their asses as they ran about and others stood in huddles and gossiped.
She finally turned, her eyes scanning the Lexicon of Power before affixing to a male Forsaken behind her. He had bright green robes, and hair that appeared to be spiked high on his head.
"Ickabod, it's for you," she drawled, voice rough in her throat. The Forsaken looked over us both and then with a casual swing of his arms he moved his body, bit by bit until he faced them.
"What is it?" he demanded, I was surprised at how strong his voice was. Like he was an actual human.
"We need the best parchment we can get," said Tzara, I pulled a little where her hand was holding me tight. It felt like the troll was cutting off circulation to my arm, her fingernails digging into my skin. The Forsaken looked at me then at Tzara, apparently not at all impressed in what he saw.
"I have some Light Parchment," he drawled finally. Tzara hissed a little, her voice seeming to scratch against her throat. I half expected her to treat the Forsaken supplier as she had the one from town, but instead her grip tightened and she must have somehow subconsciously called out to powers somehow because of burst of heat left marks on my arm and my arm bone snapped. As I collapsed to one knee, fighting the surge of pain that I should have been able to shake off as nothing at this point.
The troll turned on her heels abruptly and dragged me, skipping and stumbling on my feet, behind her.
"Beware. Follow the Lady and retake the Horde," Ickabod called after me.
"What is he talking about?" I asked, not really expecting the troll to answer me.
"We need to get out of the way for a while," Tzara said, dragging me along with an angry and quick step. "Shouldn't be too much trouble in the Western Plaguelands."
"You are trying to kill me," I said with an exasperated sigh. That actually made the troll pause and turn on me.
"No, you're high enough..." then she paused and titled her head. I had a bad feeling I had just done something very stupid. Her smile turned high and that insane, mischievous lilt entered her expression once again. "Actually, you know, you are completely right. Instead, let's go to the Eastern Plagueland. I think that will be much more your speed."
My mouth snapped shut. I didn't dare say anything else in fear of giving her ideas. I was going to die enough in the Plaguelands, and I would keep doing so until Tzara took me out. Dying would not teach me what I needed to know to grow stronger, and the beasts and creatures there would probably kill me too fast for me to learn any tricks.
"Hurry, the Lady goes to reclaim the Horde. All are needed on the zeppelins," said a Dark Ranger. Her voice kind and almost childish though her body was more than matured.
"Do I look like my sister?" hissed Tzara, and I found myself moving in front of Tzara, as if shielding her from making a grave mistake and attacking the Dark Ranger. Tzara didn't glance my way, but neither did she try to push past me and actually attack the Dark Ranger. The undead creature seemed to take no offense to Tzara's words, and with a quick glance over me, as easily dismissed me. Within seconds she was on her way, somewhere, her hips swaying in a very confusing fashion. Mostly confusing because on most I would call it sexy, but on someone already undead, it should have made me want to run to the hills in disgust.
Tzara watched the Dark Ranger for a couple of seconds before shaking her head in what I assumed was disgust and turning on her heels to leave. I was forced to leave, following her up the stairs, past the bank, and to the elevators. The bodies of the Kro-kron littered the ground, instead the abominations looking over the bodies one even taking a bite out of an arm it had ripped out.
"What is happening?" I was able to ask again. Not sure if Tzara was even sure out what was happening, but feeling like she had to ask. So many questions were brewing in her mind, but if there were answers, they were not forthcoming.
"Change," said the troll, almost ripping my arm as she pulled me out of the elevator, clearly headed to the exit. "True change, and we are going to go to the where it is likely to not be about."
"What?" I asked, a hiccup in my shoulders as I fought back a laugh. "Are you afraid of being looped?" The idea was so ludicrous. With everything that the troll had done, how could I even imagine that as a possibility. But what other reason could there be?
"Looped?" the troll almost seemed thrown by this idea. She shook her head. "No, don't be ridiculous. But I have no interest in being drawn into one of the many fights that will again and again determine what will happen to the Horde's future."
I stared at her in confusion.
"You think it's only the Alliance that hates Garrosh? His actions have crippled and divided us. I was willing to help to an extent. To build up the Darkspeare's Revolution, but I have no interest in trying to overtake Orgrimmer. I don't see how that will end well."
I started a little but realized I shouldn't be so surprised. Really, the fact the Horde could band together and not fight each other and make revolution impossible. After all, the Alliance was filled with genuinely good people, but they still had backstabbing and politics to deal with. The Horde could only work when it was fighting, and even then it looked like they would fight bloodily together.
"Coward," I finally said. Tzara glanced my way, but instead of trying to contradict my words, she merely turned away. I felt my jaw unhinge a little, but I really shouldn't have been so surprised.
Once we were outside the Ruins of Lordaeron, Tzara summoned an Enchanted Fey Dragon. The blue scales turned purple as it sat and Tzara walked to it and swung her leg over. She then glanced at me. I looked at the beast. This mount was certainly big, but most mounts, no matter the size, were only able to carry one rider. The troll seemed to be thinking the same thing, but still, she offered her hand to me. I took it, and she pulled me onto the creatures back. The tight band of her armor slipped enough to reveal, on blue skin, a dark mark. Then I was on the creatures back. The Fey Dragon only shook itself a little, but at Tzara's urging, quickly took to the air. I watched as everything fell away beneath us, clinging and wishing that I had some sense.