Chapter 7
"Halt!" bellowed one of the pair of guards at the base of the zeppelin tower. Both of their axes dropped to form a wall in front of Necronim after Kwaaku had passed by and the Tauren spun around with a fury in his eyes that was palpable.
"What do you think you're doing?!" he roared at the pair. His big hands twitched, wanting to reach for his fighting claws, but he held himself back from such action.
The guard that bellowed narrowed his eyes and grunted, "All undead are to be escorted into the capital as per order of the Warchief and Lady Sylvanas. You will come with us and we will take you to them."
At that the Forsaken rocked back on his heels in shock then gasped, "Syl…Sylvanas is here? Why?"
"That is something you can take up with the Warchief and the Lady," grunted the second guard. She then sniffed the air and glared at Kwaaku, not noticing Necronim shoving Kalya slightly behind him. "Tauren! You smell of human!"
Kwaaku blinked then chuckled darkly, his voice rumbling ominously as he said, "A few attempted to jump us whilst we were in Stranglethorn. They thought they had taken out him and all sprang on me. Be surprised if I will be able to get the smell out for days."
The guards chuckled then took up stances on either side of Necronim as they allowed him to step forward. He glanced at either of them then looked sharply at Kwaaku, jerking his head towards Kalya. As the Tauren moved towards the young woman, he walked away with the guards and towards the gate of Orgrimmar.
Glares and muttered words followed him the entire way, each one he heard clearly striking like a direct stab to his dead heart. But he held himself as erect as he could manage with his wound and let his arms dangle at his sides, wishing Kwaaku had let him take back at least one of his daggers.
What he noticed as he was escorted through the city was that his kind were remarkably absent. Up until they reached Grommash Hold itself, there was not hide or hair of one. And when one did appear, he was not just some regular Forsaken.
He was one of Sylvanas' guards. And while the Lady herself might be present, her personal guards rarely left the Undercity.
More of her guards – who usually lined the path to the throne room – were interspersed among the Warchief's guards all through the hold. The sense of unease he had had since waking up grew as they reached the inner most room and he beheld the leader of his kind and the Horde standing next to each other. His two guards saluted then one barked, "Warchief! This undead…"
"Forsaken," corrected Thrall calmly, turning so his blue eyes could fix on Necronim.
The guard looked suitably cowed and finished, "Has just arrived. One of the few with his faculties still intact."
What? Though Necronim, looking around in a panic at the royal guards. What, by the Light, was going on?
Sylvanas' ghostly eyes fixed on him then and he stiffened under her gaze. She took a step forward, towering over him, and made what might have been an attempt to smile. He just stared at her, not noticing his two guards saluting again and leaving.
"I am sure you are quite confused," she said, her voice echoing slightly on its own. "And well so. You were…elsewhere when it happened."
The rogue frowned and asked, "When what happened?"
"The Undercity had fallen and our own people rip each other limb from limb. They have…" Sylvanas stiffened as she snarled, "They have returned to what we were before."
Necronim stared then slowly began to shake his head, feeling fear begin to snake its way into his belly.
"No," he gasped softly. "Not that."
Thrall frowned and said, "You are one of the first we've found that hasn't succumbed to it within moments of stepping within this room. Where were you eight days ago?"
"Unconscious."
Sylvanas arched an elegant eyebrow then her sharp gaze was drawn to the bandages bound about his chest. She took a step forward and reached out to touch them, her fingertips just hovering over his wasted flesh, and snorted. "You have been touched by the Light."
Necronim nodded and confirmed that with, "One who actually knows the trick to truly harming us. The pain overwhelmed me and I was unconscious for whenever this occurred and the day after. Then I awoke and sensed…" He paused and trailed off, causing the Lady's intense gaze to fall on him.
"Sensed what?" she pressed.
"That something was wrong," he finished after a moment.
Sylvanas frowned and turned to look at Thrall, who was scratching his chin in thought. "What do you think of this?"
"That he tells the truth," replied the Warchief. "I've seen such wounds inflicted before myself and I know the harm they can do. Though…what were you doing going up against one that knew such a technique? So far as I know, every paladin that knows such has strict orders to remain within the walls of Stormwind."
"I…"
"Speak the truth," commanded Sylvanas suddenly, making him look at her. "We have no time now for lies and dalliances."
Necronim scowled then sighed, shoulders slumping as he said, "I broke into the dungeons of Stormwind and rescued a prisoner."
Both leaders blinked then Thrall leaned forward and asked, "An orc?"
The Forsaken winced and replied, "No, Warchief. A…a human."
Sylvanas stiffened then snarled, "And where is this human now?"
Necronim started to reply but was cut off by a meek voice from behind him saying in Taur-ahe, "Umm…right here, m'Lady." He spun around and gaped at Kalya as she carefully pushed her hood back, not even noticing the guards all stiffening around her. Guards at the entrance to the Hold, he saw, were holding Kwaaku back and he turned back around towards Thrall.
"Warchief! Please, do not…"
"I do not intend to harm her," rumbled the orc reassuringly. Sylvanas scoffed under her breath but nodded after a moment, waving a hand negligently.
"Very well! Your girl will not be harmed. Stand down."
The Forsaken guards bowed and stepped back as they obeyed their Lady's command. Every orc that guarded Thrall had already stepped back at a slight wave of his hand and Kwaaku was allowed to come forward at last.
"I'm sorry, Nec," he rumbled softly. "I tried to stop her."
"I believe you," said Necronim, smiling at the Tauren. He then frowned at Kalya then held out his hand towards her, wanting to grin as she stepped forward and took it. "You foolish girl. What were you thinking?!"
"About your safety!" she replied shrilly, switching back to Common for a moment since he had. She looked at both Warchief and Dark Lady, her face flushed with embarrassment but also rife with courage. "Forgive me for barging in," she said again in Taur-ahe.
Thrall chuckled and said in Common, "You may speak your tongue here."
Kalya gaped at him for a moment then nodded sharply, dipping absently into a curtsey. "Thank you," she managed to murmur. Then she looked at Necronim worriedly and asked, "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine, Kalya," he replied gently. "Confused but fine."
"Are you sure? I mean, your wound…"
"Kalya."
She gave him a flustered look and mumbled, "I'm sorry."
Necronim smiled and laid a hand on her shoulder, noting the reaction of the two leaders out of the corner of his eye. Both were surprised that she didn't pull away from his touch – in fact, she leaned into the touch if anything and calmed a bit.
"Intriguing," muttered Sylvanas, tilting her head at the pair. Then she asked, "And why did you risk your un-life to save this girl?"
"He asked me to," replied the rogue, gesturing at Kwaaku, who had no real idea where the conversation was going. He'd tried his best to actually teach him Common over the past few years but the Tauren just couldn't comprehend it. Reading it was simple enough for him and he could write it well under Kalya's teaching but speaking it was out of his league. "We met her several years ago in Hillsbrad. A paladin attempted to kill me – Kwaaku stepped in the path of the strike and allowed me an opening to down him. She came across us in the woods and helped us of her own will, even helping me drag him away so we wouldn't be discovered."
Necronim paused and looked at the young woman next to him for a moment before continuing.
"I asked a druid by the name of Carentareta to help me find a safe place for her. She found a home for her in Moonglade and these two passed letters back and forth from then on. One of the Night Elves there discovered her gone, taken by Alliance soldiers, and contacted him about it. I knew where they'd take her and Kwaaku managed to convince me into going after her."
Thrall nodded at this and said, "I know the druid you speak of well. Her son is a smart lad. But a fine question is how you knew just where they would take her."
The Forsaken flinched and nervously shifted for a moment before showing his wrist and the brand on it. "This," he said in a gruff voice. "I…in my previous life, I was once privy to the hospitality of the Stormwind dungeons."
Sylvanas narrowed her eyes and nodded absently, saying to Thrall, "Its true. I've seen such brands before…but never one as elegant as this."
"I was a prisoner they weren't very willing to let go alive, m'Lady."
"And yet you did. How?"
Kalya bit her lip as Necronim's eyes guttered out abruptly and he ducked his head. She reached out to clutch his shoulder in reassurance and his bony fingers closed over hers a moment later.
"Nec," breathed Kwaaku from behind them, looking worriedly down at his friend. More than anyone, he knew how hard the rogue had tried to keep his past hidden from everyone – even himself. For a while he had thought that he had tried so hard he had forgotten it.
Now he saw that that wasn't true at all. His friend remembered everything of his past life…and that was why he missed it so.
"I know the layout of the Deeps and all of the dungeons like the back of my hand," the rogue breathed after a moment. He didn't want to speak of his past but Sylvanas' gaze and voice practically forced the tale out of him. "I was…I was practically raised in SI:7's halls from before I could walk. Then I…something happened and I couldn't abide by the rules anymore. I stole, I pilfered, and I took everything and anything that I could get my hands on. And I was good at it. But they caught me, just like they catch almost everyone. I was thrown into the dungeons, branded, and sentenced to be hanged."
He shuddered violently but his mouth seemed to have taken on a life of its own now, spilling out his previous life for the two leaders, his friends, and the guards to hear.
"The thought of dying terrified me almost to the point of driving me insane. But I remembered exploring those dungeons as a child and finding every nook and cranny I could. And…there was a passage outside in one of the cells – a passage hidden so well, it wasn't found until I had to rescue Kalya and flee before I could close it. I broke out of my cell when a guard came with food and fled to the cell I knew it was in, making my escape before anyone was the wiser. And I ran and I kept running until I reached Andorhal. Then…then…"
His voice broke then and Thrall turned on the Dark Lady with a growl of, "That is enough! Release him."
"How could you?!" exclaimed Kalya, glaring at the Banshee Queen as she flung her arms protectively around Necronim. He sank against her and Kwaaku caught him, gently helping her lower the suddenly limp Forsaken to the floor. "What did you do to him?!"
"We needed to know," said Sylvanas sharply as she let her spell fade. "And do not attempt to lecture me, child. There are far more important things going on here than one former man's attempts to hide his past."
"Former man," repeated Necronim in a bitter voice. "Yes, that would be what I am."
Kalya twitched then grabbed his face, forcing him to look up at her.
"No!" she screamed. "Don't you listen to her, Necronim! For only knowing you a little while, I think I know you almost as much as Kwaaku. And I know that you are a better man than most that dare call themselves that!"
"Am I?" he asked, staring at her bleakly. "You only heard a fragment of the story just now, Kalya. I did miserable things then, even if they were for a good reason. A good man, you say? I'm nothing of the sort."
"Don't say that! Necronim…" Her voice softened as she breathed, "Saran…please. Please believe me."
Thrall looked at the pair on his floor then whirled on Sylvanas with a fury that made her guards stiffen. He growled and spat, "I do not care what methods you use within your own city to get information, Sylvanas, but you will not use them again in mine!"
"My city is no longer mine!" snapped the Banshee Queen.
"Then you shall have to find somewhere else to practice your foul interrogations, won't you?"
Cold eyes narrowed and she hissed, "You do not wish to make an enemy of me, Warchief. We…"
"You think to threaten me with that new Plague of yours?" At her stiffening, Thrall chuckled darkly and continued, "I have my sources of information amongst your people, Sylvanas. Some of them aren't very happy with your method of ruling…or of continuing in this quest of yours to rid the planet of all life."
"You need us!"
"Do I? You came to me asking of an alliance, Sylvanas, so you could hold your borders against humans. That was it. Now your city has fallen and those that are left of your subjects are here or still scattered around the world. Do not tempt my patience and my hospitality. I do not condone such actions as yours within my city."
"So you say. But the warlocks in the Cleft speak different."
"You think me a fool to not see their movements? I know their workings, Sylvanas, and I let them think they are secure." He smiled grimly as he finished, "They are only tightening the noose about their neck. Now…will you abide by my rule?"
Sylvanas sniffed and replied, "Only when within your city."
"Good." The Warchief then motioned to several of his guards and barked out orders in Orcish. "Gramun, Wrost, escort these three to a room within the Hold. See that they are there in comfort and…" His blue eyes fell on Necronim and he added, "And retrieve a shaman to see if there is anything he can do for the Forsaken. If you can find her, the druid Carentareta would be better."
"Yes, Warchief!" replied the two guards. Kwaaku nodded at the pair then gently pulled the insensate rogue to his feet, gently guiding him along in front of him as Gramun led the way. Kalya rose slowly to her feet and turned back towards the two leaders, Wrost standing at attention behind her in wait. She curtsied then said, "Thank you for your hospitality, Warchief."
Thrall waved a hand and replied, "Your friend is one of the few Forsaken who hasn't fallen to this ailment. It is to our advantage to have him be well. And anyone who has the friendship of that druid, I've learned, is someone who deserves care."
"Thank you anyway," she said again. And as she turned and nodded at Wrost, who began to lead her out, she glared venomously at Sylvanas. The Banshee Queen's actions against Necronim weren't going to be something forgotten by her for a while.
As they watched her retreating back, Thrall grunted, "You've made a new enemy it seems."
Sylvanas stood stiffly next to him and he almost didn't think she was going to reply after the browbeating he had given in front of her own men. But she finally said, "She is only human."
The Warchief of the Horde blinked then smiled, watching the young woman's back. He remembered two other brave young women that had done things to change the world and chuckled.
"You might be surprised by what mere humans can do," he said sharply. Then, without giving her a chance to reply, he turned and went towards his own room in the Hold. If he wasn't mistaken, Carentareta's son would still be in there poring over his maps and trying to figure what might have caused this.
He just hoped that whatever had affected the Forsaken that remained in the Undercity did not come to claim those that had escaped it. If it did…he wasn't certain his city and his people would survive an attack from within.
Author's Note
Yes, there are tie-ins between this story and Child of the Horde. And vice versa. This takes place sometime before CotH happens and I will refer back to this event at some point during that story. Reading CotH isn't required to understand this story but you would know the characters a bit better then.
