She stared at the thing in front of her, heard the shrieks of the otherwise brave men and women of the Argent Dawn. It was small wonder. Some fled into the Chapel, but that wouldn't save them. The building didn't even reach to the monster's midriff. Vala, the Tauren warrior beside her, gaped at the huge demon, then shook herself. 'Do you believe,' she asked in a carrying whisper, 'that this thing can be defeated?' Modgud met her gaze. Vala had asked her for help looking for blood of heroes, which was tedious work, and Modgud had agreed. Now they faced … this.
'No,' she said at last. 'No way.' Vala nodded.
'Me neither. Shall we leg it?' They both watched a human mage cast a spell at the demon. The magic was so strong she could almost physically feel it, and she wondered if maybe, just maybe, it could actually harm the monstrosity. But then the demon spotted the mage. The spell hurtled towards it, hit it squarely in the face - and was reflected. The human stared at what was coming back to him, a burning shadow. He screamed when it hit him and started running. He had to be dead already, but somehow his legs carried him going on and on, and down the hill. Only then he fell silent. 'Modgud?' The Forsaken swallowed.
'Yes. Let's leave.'
ϡ
It all eluded her. Why there should be a beetle of any sort in the phylactery of a Lich, why you needed a beetle of any sort to build a key, and why in the name of whatever deity there was (not that she believed any such thing) an Apothecary had to do such a thing herself rather than tell a smith or maybe an engineer to craft a facsimile. Modgud wasn't even certain what a phylactery was to begin with, only that she had to defeat the Lich in order to get access to it. But she didn't question any of it. Much rather, she made her way to what remained of Andorhal. Alone. She had been told not to, but how bad could it be, really?
'Are you Araj?' The Lich hissed at her. There was something at his … well, feet was the wrong word. Beneath him. An Undead it was obviously, but it was a very odd one. It got to its knees, then to its feet, swayed, and collapsed again. She decided to ignore it, since it didn't seem to be overly much of a threat, and addressed Araj, whose attention was apparently on the stumbling corpse rather than her. She took that as a personal insult. 'Fight me, if you can!' She felt the power of the creature before her. She dreaded what would happen if she lost. Well, Modgud wasn't prepared to find out. She took a deep breath and attacked.
It was the hardest fight she'd ever had. She kept running away, casting every few paces, keeping the monster chasing her frozen whenever she could. Every time he managed to hit her in turn, she thought the next spell must kill her. She kept herself shielded as well as she could, and when she cast what she knew was her last spell before her strength was gone, she thought it was all over.
And indeed it was. Somehow, miraculously, Araj shrieked and the form crumbled. All that remained was a withered robe and what had to be the phylactery.
Modgud was halfway out of Andorhal when she remembered the strange Undead. She decided to deliver it from its pain. When she got there, the Undead looked up at her with animal fear. She raised her staff to strike it down, but it raised its arms. 'Please … no!' She remained poised.
'What?'
'I fought … that … that thing. The Lich. In my head.' Modgud lowered her staff at last. 'I just woke up here, and there it was.' Modgud swallowed. She had to break it to him, and there was no easy way to do it.
'Woke up? Raised from the dead by that Lich, you mean.' The Undead looked at her, and it struck her that those eyes didn't see anything. They couldn't. They were burnt out of his skull. How could she have missed it first? But he looked, actually looked, at his hand now, ran the tips of his fingers over his arm. She felt with him. He only just realised that the skin wasn't quite as firm as it had been before. 'I know how you feel. You don't want to believe it at first.' Her voice was barely above a whisper, but in the silence of death it carried far enough. With an effort the Undead looked back up at her. He had to be a mage, there was no other way he could possibly see. 'Did Araj do that to you?' He shook his head. 'You got a name?'
'Dago.' He swallowed. 'The eyes … that happened a very long time ago.'
'You're a mage.' A nod. 'Come with me. This is no place for you. I am Modgud, by the way.'
'Wait.' Dago stood rooted to the spot. 'I was a human. What … How can I go with you?' Modgud smiled sadly.
'Because your allies will murder you on sight.' Still he didn't move.
'I recognise your voice. You were at Light's Hope Chapel when Kruul attacked.' It took a few moments before she answered. Then it struck her.
'Oh no … you were the madman that attacked with that huge spell. Oh, but you're powerful.' He shook his head.
'No … I was. I've only got a few reserves. I feel the magic bleeding out of me. I cannot even … You have to guide me, if you wish to.' And now she noticed that he still looked in her direction, but not nearly as accurately as before.
'Take my hand.' She reached out and took his hand into hers. 'I'll lead you well. Trust me.'
((This both happened: Modgud and Vala at Light's Hope Chapel during the even before TBC, and Modgud fighting Araj alone only a little bit later (with level 61, no Classic end content because I turned 58 when TBC was already out). Dago is a warlock, by the way, seeing how he lost his original mage-magic. He was the first one to be on the receiving end of an act of absolute altruism from Modgud.))
