Chapter Four

Gillaen

And so we moved on, Perditta and I leading, up the steep snow covered path that wound round the spire to its very summit. None of us knew what to expect, what we would find there. We stepped onto the plateau at the summit and all of us looked around curiously. The vast expanse of ground was flat, ice covered, bare apart from several icy pillars arranged in a circle some distance from the edge. No one went near the edge; with the wind buffeting us it would be all too easy to slip and fall into the dark emptiness that surrounded us. I looked down at the ice beneath my feet; below it I could see the faint shadowy marks of fault lines; that could potentially be a risk. At the far side of the plateau rose an icy pinnacle, a flight of smooth wide stairs leading to what appeared to be a throne. On it sat the ice-encased figure of an armoured man. Near the foot of the stairs a paladin knelt in prayer as he awaited our coming.

"Is that him?" asked Aralen at my side as the last stragglers reached the top of the path. I nodded. Even now, freed from the Lich King's control, I still felt the awful power of the Scourge's dread leader. I prayed I had the strength, the courage to face him.

I turned to face my companions.

"I don't know what to expect," I admitted. I wouldn't lie to them. "Arthas has all manner of demons at his beck and call, and I have no doubt he will use them. If you have ranged weapons or spells concentrate on anything that flies. We death knights will take on Arthas himself, the rest of you deal with anything else. And healers... try to keep us alive."

Once satisfied that everyone was ready I strode forward to the foot of the stairs. Nerissina, Perditta and Tyriyan stood in a half circle a few yards behind me, the others had all spread out ready to take on whatever came.

The paladin rose as I approached, and turned to face me. A tall grey haired bearded man, I knew him from Light's Hope Chapel; Tirion Fordring. He smiled sadly.

"So, yet another group of heroes come to fight the Lich King. I wish you luck, my friends. I will help you if I am able."

He turned to face the frozen throne as I issued my challenge at the top of my voice.

"Arthas! Come down and fight us. Or are you too much of a coward to face those who once served you now we are free?"

For a moment nothing happened as my words echoed among the peaks. Then slowly the ice encasing the Lich King began to splinter and crack, falling away in glistening shards as he stood up. He was tall, imposing, intimidating. I swallowed nervously as my apprehension threatened to get the better of me. I wanted nothing more than to turn and run, but I'd sworn to kill him; I couldn't turn back now. I had to finish what I'd started. Taking his time he descended the stairs.

"Are you so eager to return to my service? Welcome. And you have brought more servants for me, how thoughtful!"

His words were the goad I needed to bolster my courage. I stood there resolute as Fordring stepped forward and also challenged him. The Lich King merely waved his hand dismissively and encased the paladin in a block of ice. Had he expected this when he'd said he'd help if he was able, I couldn't tell.

I drew my sword, the demonic runes I'd forged into the blade shimmering in the dim light.

"No more, Arthas," I shouted. "There will be no more slaves for your vile army. We are here to destroy you!"

Without warning I sprang forward, swinging my sword in a powerful blow that would have decapitated a normal man. But the Lich King was no normal man. He parried the blow with ease, knocking me back with the flat of his blade. Regaining my balance I pressed forward with my fellows at my side. The Lich King was easily a match for the four of us, but gradually we began to wear him down while all around us battle raged between mortals and demons. Then the Lich King began to cast dark magics revealing his true and awesome power. He used a spell similar to one that I knew, but infinitely more powerful. The icy blasts knocked half of us off our feet, but we quickly sprang up again. Time and again Arthas struck with his spells and time and again we fought back.

Behind me I became aware of the dwarf commenting every time a demon fell. Aralen had obviously realised that I had very little idea of what was happening around me and he was trying to keep me informed. I was grateful; it encouraged me to know that we were having some success. At the same time I was aware of the little paladin's healing spells constantly boosting me and the other death knights while Thaddeus concentrated on all the others. Even so I was beginning to tire. Dodging a savage blow I stumbled as Arthas yelled out, "Watch as your world crumbles about you!"

There was the sound of cracking ice and I saw the edges of the summit break away and fall into the depths below. The next instant came a yell of horror from Aralen.

"Maelinastra, no! She's fallen!"

The young Kaldorei had been shooting from a position by one of the pillars and had obviously been too close to the edge when it crumbled. Before I could react the troll druid, who been fighting in bear form, turned from his opponent and dashed to the edge, transforming into flight form as he leapt after her. I had no time to see more as the Lich King renewed his attack.

Maelinastra

I tumbled through the cold air gaining speed, knowing I could not survive the fall. We'd been too high above the ground. But I would not cry out or reveal my fear; I would die with what courage I could muster. Closing my eyes I whispered a prayer to Elune. Then I felt claws snatch at my shoulder, digging deeply into my flesh, and I heard the sound of rapidly beating wings. Incredibly my rate of descent slowed. I still hit the ground hard but I was alive. After a moment I opened my eyes and looked up at a huge blue plumaged stormcrow. It released its grip and settled beside me, changing into the troll who'd been fighting alongside us.

He squatted there looking at me anxiously.

"You be all right, sister?" he asked.

I sat up.

"I think so. Better than I thought I'd feel."

I reached out to touch his hand and smiled.

"Thank you, my friend. If not for your help I would have died."

"My pleasure, sister. Ezeekial be always happy to help a lady, even if she be Alliance." He grinned, then glanced up at the citadel behind us.

"I should be going back up. They need me. But I can't be carrying you up."

"Go," I insisted. "I'll be fine."

I could see he wasn't convinced about my well-being, but there was no help to be seen, and as he'd said he was needed on the summit. I watched as he shapeshifted back to the stormcrow, sprang into the air and flew off, circling up until he was out of sight.

I couldn't stay where I was, it was far too cold. I struggled to my feet and looked around. I wasn't far from the entrance to the citadel; if I could make it back there I could get help. My injured shoulder was bleeding freely and my whole arm felt numb but I could walk. I picked up my bow in my uninjured hand and set off.

I hadn't gone far when I saw a tall figure coming towards me through the swirling snow. As he got close I saw his blue hair and purple skin; a Kaldorei.

"Let me help you," he offered. "I saw you fall, saw the druid catch you."

He came to my side and threw a warm cloak round my shoulders. I stumbled dizzily and he caught me before I could fall, helping me to walk.

"I'm Josstellan," he introduced himself. With his help I made it to the citadel's entrance where healers tended my wounds.

"Are they still fighting?" I asked. An elderly human mage nearby holding a scrying orb answered me.

"Yes, but I don't know how it goes. The image is not clear."

I stood a little unsteadily.

"I have to go back up. They may need me."

"You don't have the strength," Josstellan pointed out, "and it may already be too late."

"I must try," I insisted.

For a moment he looked at me.

"All right, then. Come with me."

"Why?"

"I'm a mage. I can open a portal for you to the Upper Spire."

He led me to a clear area and began to cast. A circle was marked on the ground and the portal opened on it. As soon as it stabilised I stepped through, my bow at the ready to begin firing. I took in the scene at a glance; it wasn't good. The battle was almost over. The demons were dead but so too were most of our group; their battered and mangled bodies were strewn across the plateau. The tauren and worgen death knights lay motionless in pools of blood the other two still fought on but I could see both were weakening. It was debatable whether they or the Lich King would fall first. Some distance away the tauren healer lay propped up against a pillar, bleeding badly, his leg obviously shattered from the angle at which it lay, yet he still kept pouring his healing at the death knights. I grabbed a nearby quiver of arrows and began firing, launching an endless stream at the Lich King in an effort to distract him. It was too late for the Sin'dorei; he fell, slashed across his body, and did not rise again.

Gillaen

I had no time to wonder about the fate of the Kaldorei. The druid returned after a few minutes; but, transforming directly from bird to bear, he said nothing; dashing right back into the thick of it. Around me I was aware that members of my group were beginning to fall. Exhausted, badly wounded, they were an easy target for the demons. I saw Perditta fall, attacked from behind as she battled a huge shambling monstrosity. Then Nerissina fell, cut down by the Lich King. Tyriyan and I renewed our attack before he could touch her, driving him back from her body. A stream of arrows passed me, hitting him, distracting him but it was too late for Tyriyan. He faltered and was cut down. I was on my own apart from the archer.

I stumbled and fell to my knees as the Lich King raised his sword ready to deal the final blow.

"You have proved yourself a worthy opponent. Surrender your soul. Return to serve me again and I will let the last of your companions live."

I was exhausted; I scarcely had the strength left to hold my sword, much less wield it and Arthas' voice was so persuasive, so beguiling. It would be so easy to give in, to surrender my soul, to once again let the Lich King control me, to forget who I was and what I fought for. Then my glance fell on Nerissina's body. I would never give the woman I loved back to that torment. My enduring love for Nerissina strengthened my resolve.

With a superhuman effort I forced myself to my feet, yelling,

"Never! I would sooner burn in hell than serve you again."

I swung my sword round and thrust it through the Lich King's heart. As he staggered back I pulled the blade free and let it fall. I could only pray my blow had been enough to finish Arthas. Bleeding from my many wounds I was weakening rapidly. I could do no more. I fell, aware only of the approaching welcoming darkness of true death. I surrendered willingly, eager for the release it would give.

Maelinastra

I saw Gillaen's last effort, watched him fall motionless at the Lich King's feet. It was over, we had lost. I sank to my knees, watching as the Lich King lowered the point of his sword to Gillaen's body, ready to reclaim the death knight as his own. Then I heard the cracking of ice. The paladin that the Lich King had imprisoned had somehow managed to break free. He challenged the Lich King and in a few short moments finished what Gillaen, what we, had started.

It was over. Lich King and death knight lay side by side on the icy ground watched over by the paladin. I lowered my bow and glanced at the tauren. He was motionless, his eyes closed. Yet he still breathed. So few of us did. Of our original group, only the tauren and I, of the reinforcements, only the two orc boys and a dwarf rogue. I stood up and walked towards Thaddeus, almost tripping over a body. I looked down, it was Snowtooth my cat; he'd died defending me against the demons shortly before I fell. I rested my hand gently on his striped pelt and tried to summon the strength for one last spell. I couldn't find it within me, could not resuscitate my loyal friend. I knelt there, tears pouring down my cheeks.

Then I became aware of a warmth pervading the chill air and I looked up. A ghostly figure knelt by the Lich King's body and a warm glow began to touch each of the mortal bodies. Incredibly they began to stir, healed, apparently by the ghost. Even Snowtooth; he stirred under my hand, rolled over and got to his feet, pushing up against my shoulder. Overjoyed I flung my arms round his neck, drying my tears on his soft fur.

Gillaen

"Let me heal you. Choose to live. There is so much more that you can do. Accept the blessing of the Light."

The words penetrated the darkness, drawing me back from oblivion. The Light! For so long I'd sought to regain that which I had lost; now it was being offered to me freely.

"I accept!" my soul cried out. "I choose life and the Light!"

At once I felt the healing warmth of the Light fill my body, mending my injuries, giving me new strength.

I opened my eyes to see Arthas' dying body close by. I recognised the ghost that knelt beside it as Terenas Menethil, Arthas' father, former king of Lordaeron. Slowly getting to my feet I retrieved my sword and sheathed it; all the while watching, listening to the words spoken between father and son. Arthas died in his father's arms, the Scourge light fading from his eyes. Then Terenas looked past me and spoke again. I turned, seeing as I did that my companions were all rising to their feet. Though whether they saw what I was seeing I could not tell. Behind me stood Tirion; in his hands he held Arthas' helm.

"There must always be a Lich King," Terenas said, "The Scourge must be controlled." The paladin raised the helm as if to place it on his own head, only to be interrupted. Everyone turned to look up at the frozen throne. A new occupant sat there, a man with a scorched and blackened body. He claimed the helm and the responsibility for holding the Scourge in check. I realised that I knew him; it was Bolvar Fordragon. Yet I'd seen him felled by the undead plague at the Wrathgate; seen his body seared by the dragons' flames. How had he survived to be here now?

For moments Tirion hesitated; then he walked up the steps and placed the helm on Bolvar's head. There was a sudden flash of icy light and I felt my blood run cold. Would this new Lich King be as bad as Arthas Menethil, or would he hold to his word and keep the Scourge controlled. Only time would tell.

Ice was already beginning to encase his body as I turned away. I must see to the care of my companions. It would be a long trek down the mountain to leave the citadel and I wanted to be far from this place and all its memories.

A new path had opened up where the side of the plateau had crumbled away and the strangers who had joined us for the final assault were starting to make their way down it. As I watched them Nerissina came to my side.

"Is it over now? Are we finally free of him?"

"I hope so, I really hope so."

I doubted I could face another battle like this one.

Thaddeus approached us, limping slightly on his newly healed leg.

"I will bid you farewell," he rumbled in his deep voice. "I have far to go, and it will take me time to get there"

"Not so long, I think," said a quiet voice behind us. We turned to look at Maelinastra. Somehow she had survived her fall and found her way back up to us. I was glad to see her.

A portal had opened near the centre of the plateau and through it stepped a tall blue haired Kaldorei mage.

"I thought you could use a quick way down from here. The troll told me some of you were injured."

"Has he left already? He was a strange one; not as talkative as they usually are," Thaddeus commented.

"But quick to act when needed," Maelinastra said softly.

"Aye, that he was, lass," Aralen commented, strolling across to us. He'd been checking out the dead demons for scrap metal and weapons to use for his blacksmithing. "He saved your life, true enough."

"Would a portal to Orgrimmar suit you?" the mage asked.

"That would be most kind," Thaddeus answered, "and much quicker than flying."

Behind him, Perditta and Tyriyan nodded. The orc Tarothar merely grunted. The mage cast his portal spell and watched as the horde members went through. Then he closed it.

"Where to for the rest of you?" he asked. It turned out we were all staying in Northrend and none of us going far, so he opened a portal to the citadel entrance. Aralen, laden with his loot, stepped through, commenting as he did that he could really do with a pint. I laughed, the first time I'd done so in far too long. It felt good. Then I turned to look for Kiriedh. The little gnome was wandering around disconsolately, muttering to himself.

"What's wrong, Kiriedh?" I asked.

"I can't find my boy. Have you seen him?"

I gave an exasperated sigh. I'd not seen the imp since the battle had ended. It must have disappeared when its master had fallen. Surely he realised that? Apparently not.

"I think," said Nerissina gently, "that you might find him if you come through the portal with us and call him."

At that the gnome brightened and happily went through ahead of us. The Kaldorei followed and the mage closed the portal behind us. It didn't take long to find Aralen. An enterprising goblin had set up a stall selling all manner of refreshments and the dwarf was already ordering drinks for us all. A handful of old battered tables and mismatched chairs had been set up nearby. Taking our drinks we chose one and sat down. I removed my helmet and set it down beside me, glad to be free of its weight. I'll admit it was good for striking fear into my enemies with its horns and all making me look like a demon but it was damned uncomfortable to wear. But that's the Scourge for you; it's all about striking fear not comfort.

I sipped my beer as Nerissina got into a conversation with Aralen and Kiriedh about mining and where were the best places to find different ores. Since we'd left the Scourge she'd taken up blacksmithing as a sideline to try to save money on armour repairs and improvements. Personally I preferred tinkering with engineering. I was learning to make some amusing toys but nothing that was much use in battle, apart from the exploding sheep. They could be useful if I could only get them to go in the right direction.

I let my thoughts drift, making no effort to join the conversation, and my gaze fell on the two Kaldorei. The mage, who'd introduced himself as Josstellan Ravenwing, sat beside Maelinastra listening quietly to the conversation. He knew nothing about mining, he'd said; enchanting was his chosen trade; but he seemed interested in what they were saying.

Maelinastra was silent as she sipped at her drink. She looked at me briefly and her eyes seemed unfocussed as though she was not really seeing me. I put my cup down and reached out to touch her arm.

"Are you all right?" I asked, concerned. Slowly she shook her head. Her skin felt unnaturally hot to my touch, yet she was trembling as though cold.

"I feel dizzy; can't see clearly," she murmured, her voice slurred as though she were drunk; but she wasn't. The cup slipped from her fingers, spilling most of its contents on the table. The wine soaked into the bare wood leaving a dark stain.

"Feel so tired."

She let her head drop onto her arms as they rested on the table and closed her eyes. Josstellan had turned his attention to her, but he clearly had no more idea than I what was wrong.

"Aralen!" I interrupted his heated conversation with the gnome to gain his attention. The dwarf was equally concerned. Unable to tell what was affecting Maelinastra he was unsure of how he could heal her.

"Is there anywhere quieter than here?" he asked. Josstellan nodded. Lifting Maelinastra gently, easily in his strong arms he led us to the side of the entrance chamber, to a row of curtained cubicles. The one he chose held merely a mattress on the floor and a small table. A few personal items sat on the table and under it were an assortment of bags.

Josstellan laid Maelinastra down gently and began to loosen the leather jerkin that served her as armour. He pushed it away from her shoulder and we saw the blood-soaked bandage that bound it. Carefully Aralen lifted it away. The wounds that looked to me like claw marks were red and inflamed, oozing blood and pus.

Josstellan looked up as a Kaldorei woman pushed past me and entered the cubicle. Green-haired, wearing healer's robes covered by a voluminous blood stained apron, she was all efficiency.

"Ah, Karinna," he said. "Just the person we need."

"I saw you bring her in here," was all she said.

I knew nothing of healing; I stood back out of the way, but I wouldn't leave until I was assured that Maelinastra would be all right.

Aralen made room for Karinna so she could examine the feverishly restless hunter.

"She's been poisoned by fel blood entering her wounds," she said. "They were clean enough when I dressed them earlier. There's nothing else can have done this so quickly."

"But how?" Aralen demanded. "None of those accursed demons got near her. She was shooting them out of the sky from the edge of the platform. Then she fell. She wasn't injured then."

"The troll!" Josstellan said. We turned to look at him.

"Lad, I know trolls are ugly bastards and Horde with it, but that hardly qualifies them as demons."

"No. What form was he fighting in? Bear? Cat? Moonkin?"

"Bear, but what's that got to do with it?"

"He caused those wounds when he saved her. He slowed her fall by grabbing her on the shoulder with his claws. If he was fighting in bear form then he had contact with the demons; their blood was on his claws."

"And shapeshifting from bear to stormcrow would not remove the blood from his claws," Karinna finished.

"Can you do anything?" Josstellan asked. "Can you heal her?"

"I don't know. There are herbal remedies I can try, and nature magic and your friend here can try using the healing Light; but I don't know."

I watched as the three of them tended her, each according to their particular skill. At last Karinna said,

"We've done all we can. Now all you can do is wait."

"She can't stay here," Aralen said.

"No," Josstellan agreed. "I'll take her back to Darnassus. There are healers at the Temple of Elune who can care for her."

A few minutes later the dwarf and I stood side by side watching as the Kaldorei mage cast the teleport spell that transported him, the hunter in his arms and all their belongings away from Icecrown.

"I hope she'll recover," I said quietly.

"So do I, lad," Aralen replied.

We returned to the table we'd occupied earlier. Nerissina sat there alone. Kiriedh, she told us, had found his imp and had gone off happily. Sitting down I briefly told her what had happened; then reached for my half finished beer. I was just about to take a drink when a trooper approached us.

"Gillaen Bearheart?" he asked.

"Yes."

"There's a message for you and the worgen. You are to report to Wintergarde Keep as soon as possible."

I sighed and swallowed a mouthful of beer. The trooper stood there waiting, apparently, for an answer. I made him wait; I wasn't going to hurry. I figured we'd earned the right to rest awhile.

"Okay," I said at last. "You've delivered your message. You can go."

We took our time over our drinks. It was several drinks and a meal later when we finally bade farewell to Aralen, gathered our belongings and walked out through the instance. We stood on the icy terrace near the meeting stone and as one summoned our winged steeds.