Disclaimer-I do not own Naruto or Warcraft, or any other game or manga, which I used while writing this...unfortunately.
Note: illustration for the fanfiction is a commission made for me by the great Osmar-Shotgan (seriously, he is superb), as is the one on the Demon Unleashed, all rights reserved.
Dread Lord.
Chapter VIII.
Quel'Thalas. Dar'Khan Drathir's camp.
When Naruto's hooves touched the earth Drathir was already waiting for him. With perfectly hidden disdain, Nathrezim looked at the dashing elf.
He didn't like his hat.
Seriously.
Maybe it was his 'screaming' choice of clothing or smug smile… But Naruto instantly wanted to kill that man, maybe even more than he wanted to kill Arthas.
At this moment Malkariss nearly stopped in his tracks. Then he remembered the smug face of the fallen prince. Understood that limitless hatred that he felt to the prince was still with him and his mood passed several points in his personal positive mood scale.
When he walked closer, top the distance of the mental magic, Nathrezim sighed, he easily, nearly for six seconds, dealt with everything that was in the bird-brain of that idiot. There wasn't anything interesting. First of all, no mental defense, secondly he was and idiot. No not like this. He was an IDIOT. Because only someone like him, staying near creature that telepathic abilities, more than three meters in height, long claws and arsenal of countless spells that invoke slow and painful death… will think how he will torture said creature, Malkariss automatically noted that he was very… unoriginal in it, how gladly he will betray the Nathrezim, Ner'Zul, Legion, Scourge… sign whatever you want.
Having someone like him in your minions is a blessing for someone like me, my brothers and Ner'Zul. It wasn't Arthas, for whose turning, Ner'Zul needed to destroy half of the Lordaeron, give him the cursed runic blade and aid him in battle against Mal'Ganis.
Till the very end he will be sure that he is in control of the situation.
"Greetings, my Lord." Said this… worm. "it is not that I'm not glad to see you, but why are you here?"
Naruto looked down from his giant height and answered: "Because I'm the ruler of the Quel'Thalas."
After these words elf gritted his teeth. Malkariss decided to not show that he noticed, but he was really tempted to smile.
"But… My Lord… I think there is some sort of mistake… I was in position of ruler of Quel'Thalas."
"Hmm… interesting… tell me then elf… who you are on these lands?" asked him young demon.
From this question elf lost all his prepared sly words. He was prepared that the Nathrezim that will be send here will be spiting and screaming about the fact that all of them are just pawns of Legion.
"Under the… the orders of the Prince Arthas… I'm… the ruler of these lands."
"Under the orders…" Malkariss licked his lips as he was tasting something sweet. "Such a good choice of words. But what I see is the man, who failed in his deal. We have invaded this kingdom to take the Sunwell. You promised us Sunwell. Yet because of you the Sunwell is destroyed. Do you savvy, elf? To us you are a betrayer."
While he was trying to find an answer, for this bold proclamation, raw power of mental attack from Malkariss send him into the merciful embrace of oblivion.
Hat of the Dar'Khan, with long poles and the feather of unknown bird, was crashed by the large hoof. Naruto couldn't explain why he hated that hat. Must have been a hint of jealousy, he couldn't wear the one himself, because of his horns.
He turned to the small group of necromancers that were with Dar'Khan Drathir.
"Now… what shall I do with you?"
Forces of the Ner'Zul of Quel'Thalas were left without any kind of officers after that day.
Eastern Kingdoms. Hillsbard Foothills.
Finnall looked around herself. She still didn't manage to understand, how they managed to pass all the troll patrols and reach the Hillsbard, without so many losses. Of course there were those, who had died, but they were among those, who were already wounded.
Circle of the Captains now used the Southshore as their new headquarters. Humans, dwarves and even several elf communes, that were in Hillsbard Foothills, supported their plans. After long days on the run, they finally managed to catch up their breath and think about the future.
To the west lied the lands of Stromgarde, and to the south of that kingdom were the kingdoms of dwarves and Stormwind. Both kingdoms were weakened by the wars. Dwarves will not send the troops through the entire continent to battle in the lost war.
That meant that they were on their own.
Then her thoughts turned to the members of her brigade. Among them she was absolutely sure only in three, in Sanjiro, Sunny and Kila. Surprisingly, most of all she was sure in Sanjiro. Even if he wanted to find death in battle, he was obliged to serve and follow her, since her people saved his life. This tall, silent and grim orc was respected even by other members of her brigade.
Kila… female troll was strange, sure she was grateful that Finnall had saved her from the certain death, but young half-elf was sure that there was something else behind her stay with the brigade. And that something was connected with her, Finnall was sure in it, Kila was always near her, nearly entire time. Thinking that she is afraid of other elves… she pushed that thought aside when she saw how great she is in hand-to-hand combat.
The poor young elf that slapped her ass, not that everyone wasn't holding themselves to not do the same, it was too perfectly shaped and too tempting, he was really close to never walking, eating through a tube and not having children. Really close… fortunately Sunny was there.
Sunny… among her followers she was a dark horse. She appeared from nowhere, saved her life, helped her to create a lot of tactical tricks that saved her brigade several times and always found where were the patrols of the Scourge, while they were still in the Lordaeron.
Her abilities far surpassed that of a normal witch and she couldn't truly grasp her goals and motives. She sensed that there was no ill intent in her though.
Finnall sighed. Why everything was so complex? Sometimes she just wished to return to her seemingly 'normal' days, when all that she needed to do was fighting against undead and finding provisions, medicines and shelter for her brigade.
But now… she was forced to play politics and a bastard child in this game… let's just say that nearly everyone tried to belittle her, to remind her about her 'mixed' origin… But moreover, nearly no one decided to support her, and not only because of her mixed origin.
However, help came from the side that wasn't expected. Captain Strori and his dwarves gave her their support and united with her forces. Strori became her second in command and this act made them the most powerful commanders among the Circle.
The reason was simple, when everyone realized that the undead were far, far away, they instantly started to remember the old problems and grudges. Without the enemy in front of them they instantly turned into the bunch of the wild animals, who were just waiting for a moment to bite into each other's throat.
Moreover, there was another big problem.
Sir Jerald.
Paladin of the Order of Silver Hand, he was the epitome of every negative trait that was in humans, moreover he was a xenophobe to boot and open supporter of Garithos. All in all, a major asshole, with a capital 'A'. He already started his nefarious work. A lot of humans were starting whisper about the dark times and how the non-humans are the reason of them.
Finnall decided to return to the building where her brigade was situated.
There was still a lot of paperwork.
Seriously, if only her father would have recognized her officially, as his daughter…
Quel'Thalas. Ruins of the Silvermoon. Flying Necropolis.
Dread Lord stood before the summoning circle and placed the last ingredient in the needed sector of the pentagram. He hated this. Using something like this… like the last human demonologist, when he can just simply reap the needed demon from the embrace of the Void.
But… conspiration. He was forced to work by the methods of humans to summon one certain demon.
Pentagram glowed with the eerie green light and in center of the pentagram, where started to burn the green fire of Fel megic, appeared the small portal into the Void.
The something jumped from it.
"Fear me, mortals! Prostrate yourselves before me! And I, the Might Mengtabrak will think before killing you." Only then, the imp, and it was really that type of demon, who jumped from the portal, noticed that there were no humans. Only a figure of a demon with unfamiliar face… but very familiar energy.
"Well… Maybe you will try to introduce yourself again, Megtabrak?" raised his bro Malkariss.
"Master Malkariss! And I started to fear that they had sent you to some really nasty place till the end of Burning Crusade! But now you are here, I can once again serve you!" happily jumped Mengtabrak.
Nathrezim smiled. Once he helped this little demon. And from that day onward, he received something that no demon ever received before.
Unwavering loyalty.
Yes, Mengtabrak was small. He was weak, by the standarts of the Nathrezim. But he was absolutely loyal only to the Malkariss, and demon was sure even by the greatest tortures from his brothers this little demon will not falter. It was strange how the fate joked on this one.
He should have received the form of one of unstoppable warriors of the Legion. Yet he was born an Imp… None of the higher ups in the hierarchy of the Legion would have bothered with them. But Malkariss… he was different. What made him a pariah among his kin, this little demon saw as something else.
That day when he was returned into his fixed body by the Nathrezim… The Dread Lord was placed in his hierarchy level much higher than the Sargeras himself.
Malkaris was rather big, compared to his brethren. He was powerful and could have lived his life doing nothing but ordering his much smaller kin around. Yet he followed Malkariss. And Nathrezim… liked this. Mengtabrak became his trusted spy and master of sabotage.
When he needed something… and he himself was busy, Mengtabrak was the one who he called. And, when he returned to life, their contract returned to power.
"Master! Master!" run in circles around him Mengtabrak, who already managed to get out of circle. One more useful skill that he like in that Imp. He managed to escape nearly every trap and prison. "I sensed that you had returned, but I feared that something bad happened, or you were too busy to call upon me, or simply couldn't…"
However, the cries of Mengtabrak were stopped by the demon's raised hand. "Easy there Mengtabrak. I summoned you to do something for me."
"Everything that you wish Master!"
"One of our allies, reported that there are strange movements in the world, very close to the Azeroth. In the one where I was imprisoned. There are no soldiers of the Legion there, nor that of our regular army, nor from expeditionary corps, nor from private forces of the Legion's generals. However, the appearance of the Fel-empowered warriors that habited this world, countless swarms of Imps and lack of appearance of one of my brothers, Mephistroth." Nathrezim walked to the one of the bookshelves, that were attached to the wall. "It's his favorite tactic and the fact that he is nowhere near, means that he is there, in that world, overseeing the operation from shadows. He is seeking something. And I want whatever he is seeking. Go there, my loyal Mengtabrak! Go and find what is there!"
Naruto's homeworld. Former Village of the Hidden Leaves. Now Dark Citadel of the Supreme King.
Orochimaru was always a bit pompous. Thus when he completely conquered the Elemental Nations, he rebuilt the hidden villages, turned them into the Dark Citadels of his might. He became the Supreme King, a title, that he gave to himself, thus showing how much he didn't care about the thoughts of the Lords and how much he believed into his own greatness.
Other Kages followed him. Were they led by the promises of prosperity, by fear or by despair, it didn't matter. They and their forces were now part of the Orochimaru's army.
However, the will that was hidden in his sword was still unsatisfied. Knowing better than to argue with someone, who gave everything to him, Orochimaru decided to focus all his efforts on finding what the will wanted. However, his agents didn't manage to do find whatever they were seeking.
SThus countless imps, swarmed the territories of the Hidden Nations… spreading the Fel with them. None of the two thought that among these little cowards can hide someone, who will become their downfall.
Yes, Orochimaru and, by the extension Mephistroth, didn't think about the search of the artifact now. They had more problems at hand.
Giant flying city, covered by Light, strange creatures, who came from it, also covered in golden armor and using the divine power. But worst of all… Lothraxion. He led his armies to this world and with his might he was capable of releasing it from the grasp of the Legion, all in the name of Light, of course.
Hidden deep inside the sword Mephistroth snarled. Foolish brother of his. He betrayed Legion! Wrath of Sargeras will be imminent… But he will also feel what Mephistroth was seeking here. He will instantly feel his scepter…
Azeroth. Ruins of the Silvermoon. Flying Necropolis.
Malkariss personally turned all necromancers in the liches. He never trusted that particular branch of mages and many months ago created a rule for himself: necromancer, who you can trust, is the one, who you had risen as undead mage. This rule he followed without any kind of exception, when it somehow concerned the Scourge. Thus he dealt with the fifth column in his forces and gained an allies in face of these necromancers.
After all, the case when you are risen by the Nathrezim differs greatly from the times when you are risen by some good-for-nothing bunch of necromancers. All of those, who were risen by the demon felt no pain in their old bodies and their bodies themselves started to become stronger and 'younger', if the last term can be given to the lich made from the dead old necromancer.
However, in appearance they started to remind middle age men, rather than a group of white-bearded sages. Not that somebody protested. From normal people they differed only by the unnatural glow of their eyes.
Right now, Naruto was working over the sorting of the filacterias, bone amulets and other things that he created to return the spirits of his undead warriors. However, at this moment he was rudely interrupted.
"My lord." Said Sharak'Jin, through their mind link. "Lord Lor'Themar wishes to see you."
"Ah! He is finally back, let him in."
Lor'Themar entered the room and he was looking much better than he was during their last meeting. When he was finally connected to the Well, Thirst stopped torturing him. Seeing, how much this demon made for his people and how he helped himself, Lor'Themar served him loyally and faithfully.
He felt that unlike his previous king, his new Lord will not sacrifice more than half of his kingdom for undead Scourge, before entering the battle himself. Moreover, he already saw, how the elves, who prepared to die once again, this time from agonizing and long death, slowly but surely returned to their usual lives.
He saw the result, something that he didn't see during the reign of the previous king. Moreover, unknown even to himself, Malkariss made something that destroyed all negative thoughts in his direction.
According to the elf's traditions and customs, since all elves were somewhat noble, especially those, who were led by Dath'Remar in their exile, they can be governed only by the people, who has the Right. There were two Rights in that elven tradition. The Right of Deed and the Right of Blood. The holder of the Right of Deed was much more important and powerful than the holder of Right of Blood.
Right of Deed meant that that you made something that saved the entire elfkin. Like Dath'Remar for example: he created the Sunwell and saved his people from slow and agonizing death, much like Malkariss did. The right of Blood was even simpler: those were the descendants of those, who received the Right of Deed. Like Kael'Thas.
So right now, in eyes of the elves, who inhabited Quel'Thalas, Malkariss truly was their king. Because he did something like no one, before the First King of Quel'Thalas could. He made the same deed the same miracle.
And only few days ago, too occupied by the search of possible rebels, Malkariss understood that there was none.
Because his subjects didn't want to change him for someone else, because he brought them hope.
And he like the last fool understood it only after he relocated the Necropolis.
"Anything to report Lor'Themar?" He had sent the Sylvanas' former second-in-command to check on their borders. He didn't need any kind of unknown enemy's stronghold, magic anomaly or some fucking doomsday weapon, secretly created by the Scourge and left to destroy survivors.
"Actually, yes." Answered him current Ranger-General. "There is one really strange finding."
With these words he slowly walked to the map of the Quel'Thalas that was attached to the wall in this magical chamber, that sometimes served to Malkariss as his cabinet.
"There is one thing that we had cataloged as an anomaly." He pointed in location on the east border of the Quel'Thalas. "In this location there a lot of new grass and trees, but according to rangers' reports the soil of this particular location must be too filled with stones. It is problematic for any kind of plant to grow there, but there is at least a small forest there now."
"How fast are you maps updated?" asked him Malkariss.
"At least once in a year."
"Then it must be magic. Order our rangers to look after it, but do not use magic nearby… We do not need accidents, Lor'Themar." Said young demon as he returned to his working table and started to check his papers.
"Yes… By the way, Lord Malkariss…" Nathrezim turned his head to the elf noble. Usually he called his new king, Lord, My Lord or milord and very rarely – Lord Malkariss, so when he asked Nathrezim was already curious of his question. "…do you know what it is?"
"There? Hidden by illusion?" Malkariss was silent for a moment then he answered. "I half a theory what it can be Lor'Theamar. But I also fear that I can be wrong. Right now… it isn't harmful to us. Let us focus on rebuilding the capital and gathering the survivors. Also, in case of my unfortunate banishment, or as you mortals speak demise, I will create several set of instructions and give them to Sharak'Jin. He will give you and Daliar my final words and my contacts."
Lor'themar nodded and exited the room.
Meanwhile Nathrezim turned to the table…
There was still work to do.
Eastern Kingdoms. Hillsbard Foothills. Southshore. HQ of the Circle of Captains.
Finnall looked at the sea. She thought about current situation and once again understood that sir Jerald will not just disappear. Mad paladin already prepared to the second part of his loud speech, filled to the brim with the excellent curses.
"And what do you want me to do?" finally asked the bastard child of the Daelin Proudmoore.
"It's simple, you will return to the Lordaeron to serve the Marshal Oswald Garithos and under his command you will free the Lordaeron from the Scourge, but before this you will deal with all these… unhealthy darkspawn communities and members of said communities that are in your squads and brigades."
Finnall sighed, Jerald being the xenophobic bastard that he was simply cannot understand the fact that some tribes of the trolls, just bribed the mayors of some towns. He also cannot understand that merchants, who received the cheap labor power will not simply let it go.
And the words of such people meant much more power here than the words of some bitching paladin, who was followed by twenty knights and whose commander was a bit too far away to do anything.
Moreover, none of the captains in the Circle supported him.
Even those, who growled near the trolls or orcs understood that it wasn't time to cut each other's throats.
Finnall managed to hide her smile. Unknowingly to himself, sir Jerald became the constant reminder of the threat of undead and the threat that Garithos posed to the inhuman communities.
While the female half-elf thought, how shall she send him away… the door opened and the Strori, her second-in-command, entered the room.
Seeing him caused nearly magical effect on paladin. He paled, then turned green and slowly, with his back to the wall, left the room.
Finnall smiled and she didn't hide it this time. Looks like that story that she had heard was true. Sir Jerald, after taking several cups, for courage, decided to criticize the inhumans who were nearby. Mostly there were only dwarves, elves preferred more… delicate and anonymous restaurants, with blackjack and bitches.
So, sir Jerald, according to the rumors stood in the center of the room and said everything that he thought about elves and very particularly – about the dwarves. So Strori stood from his place, walked to the Jerald and hit where he could reach. Since he was of normal complexion, for the dwarf, and sir Jerald was really high…
Let's just say that two certain bells rang for the last time.
When the door closed behind sir Jerald, Strori turned to the Finnall.
"What did that bastard want?" asked he.
"As always." Sighed Finnall. "Our return to the army of the Lord-Marshal Garithos and destruction of the 'darkspawn'." she moved her fingers in the air.
Strori cursed on the several languages. "I knew that situation with him is bad, but how idiotic can he be, if he still cannot understand that there is nothing here for him and his master?" asked the dwarf.
"He isn't here exactly for this." Answered him Finnall. "I presume that he wants to create an incident, so his Master will have a legal reason to attack us."
Black-bearded dwarf once again cursed.
Meanwhile. HQ of the Cult of the Cursed.
"Do you think that it will work?" asked Kel'Zarach.
"Yes, my lord." Answered one of the acolytes. "All experiments before were positive."
"Very interesting…" muttered old dark mage, looking over the reports of his acolytes and students. According to their research, they had found a really interesting part in the spell that had risen the undead. At least in the lowest of them, like ghouls and abominations.
The reason for this research was very simple, yet none of the mages that were with the alive enemies of the Scourge thought about it. It was really interesting, why some of the undead wore armor and some – didn't.
The answer was simple: the magic that was used to reanimate body in case of something like ghoul and abomination was… reacting badly to the different metals, soon their control magic was destroyed because of it and these variations of the undead became uncontrollable.
Why it didn't happen on the higher classes of the undead, who wore the armor? The rising and binding spells differs greatly in both cases. Without a doubt it was made, so even the simplest acolyte can rise much more undead than he or she normally should.
However… Kel'Zarach knew this fact now, his crafty mind started to create the spell that can imitate the natural magical fluctuation of iron. In such state, covered by the mountains of papers with the different graphics and magic formulas he was found by his benefactor, Oswald Garithos.
He looked around and understood that the main mage was… unavailable right now, looking through the several lists, attached to the wall, he noticed the sign "Effective against Undead" and nodded his head. Kel'Zarach was a good acquiring, moreover, he had never brought him down before, unlike some of his officers…
Garithos snarled, remembering Sir Jerald. That good for nothing paladin failed even in the simple task, that he was nearly created for, provocation. Garithos sighed. Remnants of the Order of Silver Hand looked over the refugees and hunted down in the heart of what was once Kingdom Lordaeron.
But he was certain, that all of them understood that it was fruitless effort, without a doubt they tried to use refugees to get Arthas' attention. Well… maybe they will succeed, even with their lives, he didn't care. He still will be the one, who will win in the end.
When he entered the testing zone he was greeted by the sight of the acolytes, who were looking at the green flames… Then the new artillery promised by the Cult made the second shot.
Garithos smiled into his beard.
Perfect.
Tristain. Royal Palace.
A lot of time passed since Hinata appeared in this world. She became a famed mercenary and master of the sword and soon, the noble court took an interest in her. Queen herself wished to see what she was capable of and will she be powerful enough to become the bodyguard of the princess, her young daughter.
She had sent her forces to test her. Next night, the queen woke up from the feeling of cold steel near her throat. Hinata dealt with her 'assassins' and get into the Queen's bedroom passing her guards. However, Marianna de Tristain wasn't bearing a title of the Queen for nothing.
She managed to hire Hinata as a guard to her daughter, Henrietta. Thus, young Hyuuga met the princess and her best friend, Louise, third daughter of Karin of the Heavy Wind, Duchess de la Vallierre.
Even if she greatly reminded her Sakura, at least in shrieking department, and in chest department too, actually, she was very nice girl inside.
Thus Hinata's day slowly became a routine: she trains, looks for any kind of danger for her new charge and if there was one… well she disposed of them. To her were coming the rumors that princess was going to also create her own private forces, and the perfect candidate to lead them was also found, one of the musketeers, Agnes, will become the leader of the Firearm squad and Princess' personal task-force.
However, suddenly, the princess herself started to make things troublesome for her…
"And what shall I do with this?" asked she the only soul in existence, with whom she could share the secrets she knew.
"Try killing the boy and find her someone more suitable, also don't forget to frame him, before killing him." answered the shivarra, with whom she shared her body.
"Isn't it a bit… extreme?" asked Hinata, looking at the Henrietta and Wales, who sat a bit too closely to each other.
"At least it is the easiest one, and remember: If you will not do something, someone else will." Answered the shivarra before returning to the depth of the Hinata's mind. "Hey looke who is going!"
Hinata turned her head to see the person shivarra was speaking about. She narrowed her eyes when she understood who it was.
Druella and Ilassa de Lescatie.
Those two belonged to the teachers of the young teachers of the queen, they were among those who taught the young princess magic.
Without a doubt both white-haired beauties were sisters, but she had never heard abot the Lescatie before, even if all their papers were alright. Both were somehow strange, but Hinata failed to understand what kind of strangeness she faced.
Two girls looked normal… except they were too friendly… and managed to get in everyone's good grace, which Hinata herself thought impossible, she saw the diplomats, and understood that you cannot be on everyone's good side, allying yourself with one, you will make an enemy from another.
But this rules simply didn't work when it came to these two.
Moreover… strange mead-like smell that she felt from them was setting her off and making her angry, whenever she was near the wielders of this smell: the two sisters.
She saw, how the two passed the young couple greeted them, told something to the princess, then, one of them, Druella, looked in the direction where Hinata stood and by the looks of it excused herself and her sister.
Looking, how the two of them left Hinata felt a growing tide of worry.
With two sisters.
"Does she even sleeps?!"
"I highly doubt this. But we shall worry about the fact that our energy doesn't work on her."
"Yes… looks like she has her own, strange energy that burns whatever kind of energy that we use to turn her or to seduce her into our service."
"Tsk. Ilassa, that girl is the only one, who holds us from gaining foothold in the other world. And where the heck is Mar?! Shouldn't she help us with her magic? We took her with us only because she has the experience of dealing with magocracy society!"
"Well you now sister Mari… she is traveling."
"I knew it was a bad idea."
Azeroth. Unknown place.
One head is good, but two heads are better… Usually that saying means that two people will be more effective in some kind of work than one… But what if you literally have two heads.
Cho looked at his followers, new member of the Twilight Hammer. Both he and Gall felt the anxiety of their Masters, the Old Ones. Search for the child didn't go as they planned. Whoever kept the child safe was doing remarkably good work.
They felt how they stirred in their slumber. Both heads knew that the Legion was coming to this world, their emissaries were working for a long time, preparing the soil for the return and victory of their masters.
But also two-headed ogre knew, that their return to this world will bring back The Ancient Gods. They will wake up from their slumber. And they will wake up really hungry.
Both heads smiled. All that they needed, is to catch the boy.
Legion will break their teeth in this campaign, their contacts in the Cult of the Damned had assured them.
