The entire Forsaken army was up and moving at first light. A sergeant in an Undercity tabard trotted into the campsite and told the four that the Banshee Queen wanted to speak with them; apparently, she had a job for them.
When Bellon dug into his haversack to set his recorder, he found that a message had been delivered to his transmitter. The Dark Council was sending a Lord Hypocritus to engage in any and all negotiations with Lady Windrunner.
"Oh, no," Bellon groaned. Unfortunately, he had heard of Lord Hypocritus, an acolyte of one of Darth Vowrawn's apprentices; what he knew was not wholly encouraging: arrogant, volatile, and easily distracted. In Bellon's opinion, Hypocritus was not the sort of person who should be sent on a diplomatic mission.
Hypocritus would be landing in one and one-half week's time at the site where Bellon had met Capt. Lakris. Bellon was to meet him and escort him to Sylvanas.
At least he had time to come up with a reason to leave the group and travel back to the Forsaken outpost in the Arathi Highlands.
"You don't look well," Torque noted.
"Just got some not-so-good news." Bellon indicated Torque shut up as Arbeth wandered over.
"Let's go, guys. The Banshee Queen doesn't like being kept waiting," she called.
They hurried back to Sylvanas' headquarters. Their audience was brief and to the point. They had one day to prepare to go into Shadowfang Keep and bring her the heads of Lord Godfrey, Baron Ashbury, and Lord Walden, three former Gilneans. They would be handsomely paid for their efforts, in addition to whatever goods they found.
Bellon was perfectly happy to get away from the woman and her Val'kyr. He didn't like the way they looked at him.
He looked up at the looming stone towers and walls. By the size, he estimated that it would take the better part of a day to go through it room by room to find their targets. He didn't like the idea of being in an enclosed place with creatures reanimating all the time. If he had a vibroblade, he could easily decapitate their victims and destroy their heads; that would keep them from coming back to life.
He caught Torque's collar. "We got some work to do. I'll need more power cores, contacts, and one of those whirling thingamajigs. Get the stuff together; I'll be there in a bit." He veered off and headed for a goblin-run weapons kiosk.
He studied the swords that there laid out on a table. He picked up an iron gladius and gave it a couple of practice swings. This was longer than the knives he carried but shorter than the longsword Luxraina carried.
"Forty-five silver pieces, a bargain at that price," the goblin suggested holding out his hand. "You can take my word on that."
Bellon glared at him. "Trust no one. I'll give you 30 silver pieces. It's forging is inferior." He pointed out a flaw. It didn't need to be a fine blade, not with the upgrade he was thinking about.
"Ouch, bite my head off will ya. Okay 40 silver, no less. I've got mouths to feed," the goblin countered.
Bellon snorted. "Your over-indulgence in procreation is not my concern. 30 silver not a copper more."
"You drive a hard bargain. How about 35."
Bellon studied him. "Done." He plopped down the silver pieces and left.
"Why does an assassin such as yourself require a sword?" Luxraina asked, suspicion filling her tone.
"It'll be for you, to ensure true death!" Bellon answered. "I refuse to go into that place," he pointed at Shadowfang Keep, "and have the dead continually reanimating behind us. Chop off and destroy the heads and they're dead forever."
"Genius," Torque cheered from amid his metals, gems, and tools. "Why didn't we ever think of that?"
"Because you take the reanimation of your victims as a matter of course." Bellon turned to the pile. "Now let's get to work."
He helped Torque make the items he required then affixed the silver contacts to the blade. "I need to be able to turn it on and off, I need a switch of some kind."
"Know just the thing," Torque pulled a trigger out of his stash.
Bellon put it together then held the blade out and turned it on. It buzzed and light shimmered around it.
"What's it do?" Luxraina asked.
Bellon brought the blade down on a rock and sliced through it. "That."
"Holy crap," Arbeth stared wide eyed. "That would take the head off an iron Gollum."
"You are full of surprises, Billy DeKidt," Luxraina said eyeing him carefully. "You say you are an assassin, but you use a firearm and track like a ranger, and now wield a blade like a warrior. You are a paradox."
"I use the tools I need to accomplish my work," Bellon responded. "This will chop off the heads of everything we kill; then we will destroy those heads and won't have critters that we killed reanimating to attack us from behind." He handed the blade to Luxraina.
"You said you'd cook tonight," Arbeth dragged the conversation back to the practical realm.
"I did, didn't I."
"How do we know you won't poison us?" Torque asked.
"Because I do not want to go into that death trap alone," Bellon picked up his rifle and headed out to gather the ingredients for his meal.
"I'm still alive," Torque announced upon waking the next morning.
"And you're still loud," Bellon told him.
They ate the leftovers from the night's meal of venison roulade and secured the campsite before departure.
They left their mounts at the campsite and walked south through the army. As they passed the sentries, they could see two pillars supporting a wrought iron gate. The gate was broken with one section partially off its hinges. In the center of each section was the head of a wolf bearing its teeth. On the right pillar was a shield with a wolf rampant and the words, "Non lupare ad iram dentibus lupi (do not anger the teeth of the wolf)."
It was a long, steep climb from the gates to the castle. There were two broken watchtowers flanking the drawbridge that crossed a gaping chasm; the bottom of the chasm was a swamp with spikes pointing up. The stone walls of the keep proper still looked strong enough to withstand an attack. The bridge had broken planks so they crossed carefully one at a time.
As he passed through the portcullis, Bellon could hear scrabbling on the floor of the parapet above him. Someone was about if not actively standing guard.
"This place reeks of undead." Luxraina rubbed a distasteful smell from her nostrils. "I fear our targets have amassed a small army. Master Mage, if you are able to summon an elemental, now would be a good time."
Bellon was surprised when after a few short words, a watery form materialized next to Torque. "Why didn't you do that when we were fighting Yetimus?"
"I didn't think we'd need it. When I did, it was too late; the bastard squashed me." Torque pulled out a short stick and held it like a short sword.
"I hope you both have enough mana," Arbeth indicated the paladin and mage.
"Yup, never without it," Torque reported patting his haversack.
"The Light will provide," Luxraina assured.
"And you, brother assassin?"
"Armed and dangerous. Enough power cores to take down the entire Forsaken army," Bellon told her.
"Then let's do this." Torque strode toward the entrance into the great hall.
"Whoa there, Slick," Bellon caught him by the collar of his robe. "Let the big boys go first." He and Arbeth took point.
"So who are these guys we're supposed to kill?" Bellon asked.
"Lords Godfrey and Walden, and Baron Ashbury were Gilnean aristocrats," Arbeth began explaining. "From what I hear, they plotted against King Genn Greymane when they found out he was cursed. They died for their treachery. The Banshee Queen wanted them to work for her and reanimated their corpses; but they attempted to kill her as well. Upon being unsuccessful, they fled to Shadowfang Keep."
"So we're here to wreak her vengeance upon them," Bellon said.
"I suppose so," Arbeth answered.
He paused in front of the iron gate blocking them from the courtyard. "What can we expect to find? Any ideas?"
"A number of Forsaken followed them. I suspect they have created their own army," Arbeth suggested.
"These will not be your run-of-the-mill undead," Luxraina noted. "What we will face here will be the finest soldiers these renegade lords could muster, probably from the bodies of their own loyal guards."
Bellon looked at the others. "I know you have good hearing, Torque, but you couldn't move silently if you had air under those flapping feet of yours. I also have good hearing and can move silently. I'll take point with Arbeth right behind me. Luxraina, you bring up the rear; keep Torque alive. When I give the signal," he showed what he would do, "we all rush into a room in the direction I indicate and start attacking anything unfamiliar. Got it?"
They all nodded and arranged themselves as Bellon had suggested.
With very careful steps, he and Arbeth entered a room to the right of the sally port. The floor was strewn with straw and old tack hung off the wall; it used to be the stable for the mounts of guards on duty. A short set of stairs to a landing led to the entrance of the guard's day room.
Bellon paused and listened to shuffling footfalls and a low voice. He estimated ten targets in the day room. He and Arbeth crept to the edge of the door and readied their weapons. When Torque and Luxraina were also on the landing, he gave the signal and spun crouching in the entry and fired an aimed shot at the apparent leader. Arbeth stood behind him and started shooting arrows. Torque was at his side firing off area frost attacks that slowed the enemy; his elemental and Dr. Nope charged in and began attacking indiscriminately.
Their sudden appearance caught the occupants of the room off guard; the enemy quickly fell.
"Lord Ashbury, how handy. That's one down already." Arbeth severed the head off the leader Bellon had felled with his first shot.
"We have announced our presence. I don't think anyone else will be so easily surprised." Bellon glanced into what seemed to be cells. There were four Forsaken in one and a Worgen in another.
Bellon took the opportunity to study his first live Worgen. The Worgen stared back with unabashed hatred; suddenly the Worgen gave a shocked looked at Arbeth behind Bellon.
"Arbeth, is that you?" he asked with a deep growling voice. "What have they done to you? It's me, Trevor."
Arbeth gasped and stepped away in horror. She shook her head and fought as tears tried to fall. "No, NO!" She fled the room.
"Who are you?" Luxraina asked the Worgen.
"I am her brother."
Bellon sent Luxraina after Arbeth. He unlocked both of the doors. "I've no quarrel with you at this time, Mr. Williams. Please leave this place. Your destiny is sealed. Go someplace where you won't end up on the opposite side of a battlefield from your sister."
Trevor Williams towered over Bellon and looked down on him once he was out of the cell. "I was 8 when she left home and 15 when she died. We never knew what happened to her."
"She thought her family was dead, turned into Forsaken like her." Bellon jerked his head at the door they had come through. "Get out of here before I change my mind."
Trevor dropped to all fours and bolted out the door.
"Shit," Torque hissed. "Poor Arbeth. At least I know where my brothers and sisters are and that they're well."
It was a while before Luxraina returned holding Arbeth by the shoulders. She stared at the empty cell and open door.
"I told him to go far away," Bellon told her.
She bit her lip and nodded.
"You old softy," Torque poked Bellon in the leg.
"I'm definitely going to kill you; mind you I won't give any warning other than that. Let's make sure these things stay dead." Bellon snapped.
He showed Luxraina how to use the improvised vibroblade to decapitate the bodies. Luxraina then incinerated the pile of heads with a blast of light.
Bellon led them back out to the landing and found the door that opened onto the courtyard.
They cleared the courtyard and the keep stables of the large, shambling creatures and undead, which were moving into the area from deeper inside the keep.
When the four were all that were left moving in the courtyard, Bellon knelt beside a pile of silvery bricks. He picked up one of the bars and studied it, Titanium. He started packing it into his backpack.
"Moonkissed iron," Torque told him carrying a bar he had found. "Tons of it lying around like trash and Moonkissed wood. Can't find anything better for making stuff."
Bellon nodded. "I might have to rebuild my rifle; it'll be more powerful and more accurate. The blade too."
"More?" Torque asked surprised. "That I want to see."
"We have to find the other two lords; let's keep moving." Bellon stood slinging into his backpack.
Arbeth pointed up some stairs. "Up and left is a room full of Godfrey's followers."
"Lord Walden, two down, one to go," Arbeth picked up the severed head with a single hole between the eyes.
"Ah, hell, Billy, I feel cheated. You're taking all the fun out of this," Torque wailed upon seeing the second head.
"Fun, you think this is fun?" Bellon asked as he started collecting the severed heads of the other occupants of the room.
"Hell, yeah. We could be out there fighting the whole damned Worgen army; of course this is fun. But I was hoping to at least get one shot on these guys." Torque was also gathering the heads into a pile for Luxraina to incinerate.
"I'll leave Lord Godfrey to you," Bellon offered magnanimously.
"Oh no you won't!" Arbeth argued. "Take these guys down fast and quick; that's the way I like it. Torque can fulfill his bloodlust killing everything else."
"As you wish, dear lady," Bellon bowed to her and lead the group out of the room deeper into the castle.
It was nearly sunset when they returned to Sylvanas and presented her the three heads.
"You have served me well," she told them and instructed her quartermaster to give them each a gold piece and each an item of their choice from his supplies. The heads she mounted on pikes next Stillwater just outside her headquarters.
Luxraina picked out a magically imbued shield that would protect her from spells. Arbeth picked out a leather breastplate that couldn't be pierced. Torque picked up a staff that would shoot fireballs. Bellon picked up a pair of knives that would never need sharpening.
That evening, they would go through the stash they had scavenged from the castle to decide what each would keep and what would be sold. One room they raided had been the pantry: meats, cheeses, fruits, drinks, breads, vegetables. They would eat well for quite some time.
Bellon found a quiet place away from the others to send his report, Report 7: Day 16: True Death Accomplished. He attached videos of the day's events and explained about severing and destroying an adversary's head as True Death.
Just as he hit send, the hackles on his neck stood on end. He froze turning all his senses to the world around him. Through some heavy brush, he caught the glimpse of a feint glow, a Val'kyr was watching him. Wordlessly, it turned and left.
"I need to talk to all of you," he announced when he entered the campsite.
"Now? I need my beauty sleep," Torque grumbled.
"Yes, now. Just now I was spied upon by one of the Val'kyr." That statement grew mutters of concern from the other three.
"Why would Sylvanas spy on you?" Luxraina's question was more rhetorical than quizzical.
"As you have guessed, I am not what I seem. I am not Forsaken, I never was a merchant, not here and not in my home. I was sent to gather information and report back to Imperial Intelligence everything I could about your world. The Dark Council is interested in an alliance." He let that drop and waited for the questions.
"A degree of elaboration is required," Luxraina suggested. "What is Imperial Intelligence, the Dark Council, and what are you?"
He pulled out his holorecorder and activated the holo Watcher Two had made of him before he left Dromund Kaas. "That is me; what I really look like. This form is the product of a device that temporarily modifies me to look like a chosen species."
"Well, you sure as hell ain't Alliance," Torque noted.
"Except for the shade of your skin, you're damn good looking," Arbeth suggested.
"What's wrong with the shade of my skin?" Bellon asked defensively.
"It's blue," Arbeth announced. "I'm not used to blue unless it's on a Troll or Draenei."
"Why are you here?" Luxraina dragged the conversation back on course.
"My name is Bellon'dfrey'theris and I am a major in Imperial Intelligence; the Empire is led by the Dark Council. The Dark Council is a group of Sith lords, magic users as you call them equivalent to Sylvanas Windrunner in power. I am an agent, a spy, specializing in undercover work." Bellon went on to explain the war with the Galactic Republic and the need for allies in that war.
"You are telling us this because of the Val'kyr; you believe that Lady Windrunner knows you are not Forsaken." Again Luxraina was to the point and practical.
Bellon nodded. He went on to explain the arrival of Lord Hypocritus in about one week's time.
"Oh, man, I've got to meet this guy," Torque sounded excited.
"No you don't; from what I know of him, he's not the sharpest tool in the shed, especially for a diplomatic mission."
"Then why are they sending him?" Arbeth asked.
Bellon shrugged. "Darth Vowrawn is the Dark Council member in charge of this project." He shook his head. "I must suspect he either fell out of favor in my absence or is otherwise preoccupied. I would think if he couldn't come, he would have sent a far more qualified negotiator."
"He probably told someone to come here and that someone decided he couldn't be bothered and sent one of his underlings," Torque grimaced. "That's the sort of nonsense Galywix would pull."
"That is not a comforting thought though not outside the realm of possibility," Bellon said.
Vowrawn had a reputation for thinking things through and acting cautiously yet decisively. If he couldn't respond, he would delegate the task to someone he felt was qualified.
Luxraina laid her hand on Bellon's shoulder. "We have fought side by side for some time now. I have trusted you to protect my life as I have protected yours. We will stand by you. When you are summoned to Lady Windrunner in the morning, we shall all go with you."
"Now hold on…" Torque started then stopped under Luxraina's quelling glare. "Yeah, okay, all of us." He patted as far up Bellon's back as he could reach. "We're with you, buddy."
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