Our row boat was sturdy and strong as we rowed upwards against a calm current. The icy cliffs towered above, shading us from any sunlight, the crack of sky above visible through the hazy mists. The main ship remained out at sea for the time being, Captain whatever-her-name-was informing us that the main ship was advised not to attempt the Daggercap Canyon. Into one boat and straight onto another, each rowboat's departing time from the ship a solid half-hour after the previous one had left. I have to confess, I did not know the reason for the staggered leaving times initially, but rowing down the Fjords, the answer became all too soon clear.
We were the fifth rowboat to leave the ship, the last one for today as we viewed the low-lying sun. Each carried a handful of crew and passengers as well as some supplies. We each had to take our own luggage onto the rowboat- I had not had any until Lorik found me on deck before alighting the ship, pressing a bag into my hands and said one word- Talia. The bag was currently at my feet, containing who-knew-what.
I, as well as Terowin much to my chagrin, had taken the first shift in rowing the boat. It took us a while to coordinate our efforts with advice from the ship crewmembers riding alongside, and bickering between us, but it made the most sense as we were the strongest. We had rowed for an hour or so, judging by the setting sun, until we had crossed the sea to the Fjord inlet, before two deckhands took over seeing as they could steer through the fjords. Rowing straight was one thing, zig-zagging tight angles was, however, not something I was a professional at doing (to my knowledge, at least). We kept up the same pace easily once we had fallen into rhythm, fading into our own minds while doing something so monotonous. When asked if we were tired or sore, a quick internal scan of my body revealed that no, I didn't feel fatigued at all.
Advantage of being a Death Knight number one, I suppose.
We paused at the mouth of the inlet. Passing the oars to the more-experienced, Terowin and I shifted to the back of the boat. Sitting forward facing, I couldn't help but stare at what lay in waiting for us the further we sailed inwards. We had seen the rising column of dying smoke from afar at sea, the source safely hidden among the twists and turns of the fjord, but had been assured that it was not trouble at Valgarde. No, as the icy cliffs faded into earthen walls, the fiery source was revealed to be one of the fleet's own ships. Many in the boat gasped, wide eyed and worried upon the initial sight. The horrified silence fell to disturbed chatter of fear as the realisation that this was one of their own ships fell heavily on them. I simply stared, the fire actively consuming the ship up high, eating away slowly enough to serve as the warning it was intended- You are not welcome here.
How did it possibly get up so high…?
"Vrykul, damned scum," muttered Terowin to my left. He too eyed the ship, expression of disgust rather than the worried faces of our fellow travellers. I imagined I looked bored in comparison before realising I had voiced my question out loud.
"What are Vrykul?" I enquired. He raised a long eyebrow in my direction, but answered regardless. His grey, gaunt face annoyed me. So did his voice. And his general presence.
"They are giants, inhabitants of this land. They are found all over Northrend as far as I know. The Master has seen fit to attempt an alliance with such a race, which should be an indication to you how dangerous they are." He added with a pointed look.
"They're dangerous because they're large? Is that why He wants them?" I ventured. Ignoring his leering, I thought of the Night Elf beside me and Deathweaver, looming up above over me; how much taller than those two could they be?
"No. Arthas does not need allies; he is powerful enough on his own with the Scourge." He scoffed before leaning forward, resting his arms on his knees. "However, the Vrykul trouble him enough that he will seek an alliance from them to prevent them from turning on Him." He gave a small smirk.
"Why doesn't the Alliance or the Argent Daw-Crusade seek to ally themselves with them? Wouldn't that be more advantageous?" called a gnome from near the front of the boat. Glancing forward I saw that the rest of the boat were listening intently to our conversation. Terowin laughed- a harsh noise to say the least, one that irritated.
"The Vrykul are as stupid as they are tall- they are barbarians with their clubs and furskins. They do not care for affairs or alliances- this is their land according them. They argue the territory and resources among their own tribes. Everyone else here is an intruder and is clearly not welcome!" he raised an arm upwards, indicating the decaying ship we passed underneath. A flaming piece of wood fell into the river behind us, splashing in steam as it cooled, adding to the severity of his statement. A few people gasped, but the theatricality was lost on me. I had to wonder if Terowin didn't time that or somehow made it happen to be so dramatic.
"I thought you said they were dangerous then? How can they be a threat to the Lich King if they're as stupid as you say?" a blood-elven woman chimed in, terror evident. Terowin regarded her with another trademark smirk. I had a feeling someone would want to wipe that from his face soon. With a large hammer. Twice.
"They are many, their clans and strongholds dotted all over. They might be at war with themselves, but they are trained warriors and a threat on their own if provoked. If they ever figure out that by making alliances with each other is enough to overthrow any alien armies en masse, then every non-Vrykul on this damned continent is doomed. Arthas, by siding with a few clans, keeps them divided and prevents that massive force from ever forming. Say what you will about the Lich King, but you cannot call him unintelligent; He figured out the politics of this land before the lands own occupants did!" He chuckled darkly, resting his chin on his hands, clearly enjoying the worrying theories he had just planted in these poor peoples' minds. The rest of the boat fell quiet as they contemplated his words. They were of little consequence to me; I was here for one reason- to find Edmund. Terowin's information was not relevant to my quest. The silence onboard lasted the rest of the journey
"Was the scaremongering really necessary?" I whispered, turning my head from my fellow travellers.
"This is the Frozen North, dear Sister-in-arms, I'm merely preparing them for what's truly out there. There are far worse creatures than Vrykul walking these lands," he said in a sing-song fashion. I was surprised that he had actually dropped his voice to reply. I was not surprised that that damned smirk of his was still plastered across his face.
"No need to exaggerate about them though," My hand waved upwards in a gesture of exasperation with the man, a scared crew was not an effective one. "I'm sure they're not that big-"
He abruptly grabbed my free hand, engulfing it in his large one tightly. Stunned I watched as the man beside me leaned in close, jaw set and blue eyes determined.
"Let me tell you one thing about me, Cersae, I do not lie. You will do well to remember that when faced against these beast-like brutes." He threw my hand away, choosing to watch out of the side of the boat. Only the sound of the oars slapping and cutting water was heard, the fire crackles fading as we pressed on. My hand was unable to move for the rest of the journey, but it was more his words that shook me a little- not that I'd let him know that.
The light eventually grew darker, the red glow from the blaze out of sight as we rounded another corner. Stars began appearing above, but starlight didn't aid the steering of the boat; soon the fjords would be difficult to navigate.
Well, more difficult.
Others drew their cloaks tight, huddling together for body warmth, puffs of breath evaporating into the night air. Terowin and I remained unaffected. We had been told not to light torches on the boat, to save the location becoming clear to any on-looking Vykrul. The mists drew thicker, causing distress on the rowboat, but soon we loomed into the bay, heralding our arrival at Port Valgarde.
"Would it not be wise to move port further away from such threats?" Ashwood nodded upwards at the cliffs opposites. Campfires and torchlight dotted above and across them ominously. Vice Admiral Keller shook his head, stalking forward, eyes shifting all over the new supplies as they piled up.
"No, we built this up with our bare hands. Blood and tears my friend, you understand the importance of that." He replied. His voice was gruff, no doubt from the shouting he did about the port, Ryndan didn't wonder.
"Of course, the Argent Crusade was built upon such sacrifice from the Dawn and the Silver Hand before it, but even so, are you not holding it out of stubbornness and pride? These…monsters have the clear vantage point from above." Keller ceased walking, Ashwood and Ryndan with him. He turned abruptly, annoyance evident on his hardened features.
"Forgive me saying, Commander, while I appreciate your concerns for your men here, you have little understanding of how it operates. This is my port and I have no intentions of giving it up until I am dead in this cold hard ground!" His statement cut off as someone saluted next to him.
"Vice Admiral- another boatsful has arrived, sir!" Keller turned to the dwarf who had approached the trio.
"Thank you Macalroy." The dwarf made to turn, but Keller laid a hand on his shoulder. "Tell me, would you give up this port because of those blasted giants up there raining hell on us day in day out, Macalroy?" The dwarf in question stood straight.
"No I would not sir! This is only major landing point this side of Northrend; it is needed for us to make headway inland! Valgarde mustn't fall!" He was very emphatic and quick to respond, Ryndan admired. Keller nodded, thanking and dismissing him- "You know the drill." He turned back to the Officers.
"The dwarf is right, it's one of two safe harbours that the Alliance has on this chunk of frozen hell- the other being a few hundred miles west of here-where your other ships're headed. We cannot afford to lose this port. If Valgarde falls, our primary supply line into Northrend will cease to exist. We have no quarrel with the Dawn, Crusade-whichever you are- here, so I would appreciate you not butting your noses into how I run it or why I keep it here. Our only mission is to keep this port safe for trade and landings. As I understand it, the Dawn's own landing has not gone well, otherwise you would not be seeking refuge here." There was no accusation or mockery in his voice.
Ashwood grimaced, her mouth drawn into a hard line. They walked towards the largest bonfire in the centre of the camp. She sighed tiredly.
"Yes, you speak truth. The Horde have disrupted our plans to land in the north-east, taking two of our ships down with them, and these giants here have eradicated yet a third. This is a hard loss for us all, Vice Admiral."
"Aye, we noticed the ship entering too late to warn them, tragic business that. Our architects are drawing up plans for a watchtower further down the Fjords for such events. It's hard to determine on such ground that will give a good viewpoint but stay out of the way of the Vykrul, or so I'm told, it's all gibberish to me, otherwise we would have a bloody lighthouse instead already!" He drew a deep breath, letting it out in a cloud of cold air. "What of the survivors on the eastern coast? What are the plans for them?" The cold wind blew around them mildly, Ryndan's long ears were now numb. Unclasping his gauntleted hands from behind him, he had listened dutifully throughout the conversation, however, noting the ashen look of grief flash across his Commanding Officer's face, he stepped forward, answering in her stead.
"Captain Taylor wishes to converse with Captain Redfield of the Maiden of the Sea when she arrives tomorrow about organising a rescue mission. As you know, they had to divide the fleet where necessary first earlier today before mounting one, and I believe they seek your knowledge of the surrounding environment before charging in. Do you have any information regarding the Horde Landings to the east?" To Ryndan's dismay, Keller shook his head.
"Nay, I don't, this is news to me an' all. I'll speak with the scouts when they return and offer whatever information they find to you as soon as I can. My first priority is the bastards hammering at my gates day-in-day-out however."
"We are unaware of how many supplies the stranded possess and so wish to start as soon as possible- how long before the scouts arrive back?" Ryndan enquired, anxious to mount a rescue by first light if able.
"Daily, from differing parts of the terrain. Tomorrow's report should be coming in from the north and the north-east the day after tomorrow. We shall know more then," Keller offered, sympathising with the Crusaders' worries. Grimacing in the firelight, Ryndan felt tense- he knew with decent rations and supplies his fellow soldiers could hold out for as long as necessary as well as caring for those travelling with them. However they were also under attack from a hostile threat with potentially many injured or worse. He felt that sleep would not come easy tonight for worry- a small blessing that he was glad that those in Port Valgarde did not know the true situation of their friends and companions across the land. He noted that while Commander Ashwood looked worn, Keller simply looked irritated; Ryndan wasn't sure if this was his typical expression or not, however.
"Those harpoons are giving us no end of grief and the archaeologists don't stop pestering me. I'll be honest, the situation here is critical at best. Perhaps you would care to lend a hand in securing the port further during your stay…?" He ventured curiously, almost hopefully. Ryndan turned to Ashwood, coupling his hands behind his back again. As his superior, and foremost in the port for the Crusade, this was her decision. She looked between the two men and nodded.
"Yes, Vice Admiral, the Argent Crusade will offer whatever help we can in thanks for harbouring us safely." She stated formally. To the Officers' surprise, Keller laughed loudly.
"Pun intended, Commander?" He chuckled. Realising what she'd said, Ryndan suppressed a snort and failed. Ashwood appeared puzzled for a moment, before blanching in realisation, hiding her face in her hands, groaning.
"Ah, you got to take a laugh where they come, they're far and few between up here in the north!" Keller offered, unable to wipe the grin from his face. Ashwood looked up, open-mouthed, before quirking into a smile and laughing too. Ryndan joined in, glad for the light reprieve of the last day.
The laughter was short lived as they watched the new arrivals to the port disembark from the latest rowboat. That should be the last one for tonight, the darkness shrouding any hopes of navigation up the inlet. His own had arrived second earlier this evening, his arms hurting surprisingly from his own shift at rowing. McGreaves was in the first boat and had taken to the inn uphill after unloading with an old 'war buddy' he hadn't seen in a while.
The most recent boat emptied and a yeoman tugged it along the dockside to tether it. The line of crew and ex-passengers trudged off of the landing pier, aching and tired from sitting in a boat in this cold. Macalroy was directing them as they passed, like he had with previous arrivals. Everyone seemed to be carrying bags or a crate off of the vessel, the dockworkers lending a hand in piling them appropriately where needed. Ryndan was impressed with the organisation of the port, despite being under constant attack.
Beside him, Commander Ashwood drew a sharp breath, her sharp eyes focussed and following the direction of her gaze, he soon saw why. The last of the newcomers walked at the back of the line. Two Death Knights, were walking side by side off of the pier. One possessed bright blue eyes shining in the dark, standing high above surrounding people, and the other with free white hair, flickering like a candle as she drew closer to the bonfire. She was looking around in small wonder. Suddenly the Commander swore, she turned quickly to Keller-
"I apologise Vice Admiral, you have offered us generous hospitality here and for that we are grateful, but I regret to say that I forgot to mention the presence of dea- ah, former death knights among our ranks. If this offends you or your people I will see to it that they-"
"Calm yourself, Commander Ashwood." He too eyed the pair as they walked past a few feet away. They walked on, following the others up the hillside to the Tent-area behind the Inn. "These are not the first of Arthas' former lapdogs to pass this way and I doubt it to be the last. We've had a fair few sworn to the Alliance pass this way since a few weeks ago, when Arthas fled Light's Hope, and even breakaways from before that," he nodded to the two Crusaders. "Quiet enough, they never stayed long, each wanting to serve in the fight against their former enslaver. I don't give a damn if they're sincere in their new allegiance or not, if they're going to help keep my men safe then I'll gladly have them. You know as well as I do that not all of these…Death Knights, joined the Black Blade, or whatever they call themselves. Others went crawling back to Stormwind at their own personal risk seeking reconciliation there for their crimes."
"To the Horde Capital, also?" Ryndan interjected. He may be sworn to the Argent Dawn-now-Crusade but he still felt a little loyalty to his birthed faction and in turn curiosity at its current state. Expressly, he watched as she passed by, following the directions like those who had arrived previous, oblivious to the scrutiny she was under. Perhaps it was the light, but her expression seemed strained.
"Most likely," Keller replied, scratching his beard. "There is not one person here who will hold prejudice against the individual, unless they have personal reason to. Even then, they will perform their primary duty first, alongside anyone else who is here for the same reasons. But anyway, a few have been accepted by His Royal Majesty into the Alliance ranks and we must respect that, regardless of our feelings. His edict is final, even if he's never been out here," He finished bitterly.
He drew a tired sigh. "Look, as long as they behave themselves, and follow your command to the letter while they're here, causing no trouble, then I have no problem with them. They'll have to work just as hard as everyone else here." He turned to look upwards at the overhanging Vykrul shelters. "I won't lie to you, the situation here is critical and we can use all the manpower you're able to muster. The Light knows we need all the help we can get to survive in this forsaken wasteland."
Looking upwards at the unwelcoming bonfires on the opposing cliff-faces, Ryndan reckoned that Keller was most likely right.
I actually felt cold in the cot that I currently lay upon. I even shivered, pulling my threadbare cloak tighter. Up until now, I had been numb to all sensation, aware that I should be feeling yet not really caring that I wasn't. The emergency tent sheltering me kept the breeze mostly out, but even so; it wasn't the source of my discomfort. Setting foot upon this land, my first step off of the pier and onto solid earth sent trembles throughout my body. It was unusual enough to concern me, but I dare not voice my worries to anyone. Had Talia been at Valgarde, I…might have gone to her for advice, but she was not on either ship remaining at the Fjords. I didn't know where she was.
I shook myself and stood, tugging off the boots I was assigned weeks ago at the Argent Camp. They had held out well given how much I wore them. Perched on the bed, fully dressed, I weighed my options. First:- stay inside alone, for whoever was my bunkmate had yet to appear if I was indeed assigned one, the cot opposite unused- or second: amuse myself out with.
Listening to the sounds of stifled movement in the port, murmurs and faint sounds, I opted for the former in an effort to make my behaviour seem normal. Back at the Argent camp, for I found strangely missing the small routine I had fallen into, I could work and labour night and day with no worries, thanks to Tal. She would leave me a list of things to do through the shift when she was sleeping and I would make my way down it. She called me a blessing for all the work I did, menial or not. I inwardly disagreed but let her fuss over me, it kept her happy.
For all it might leave me more time, being unable to sleep, it was certainly a pain finding things to keep me occupied or entertained. (Dis?)Advantage of being a Death Knight number two, I suppose.
Reaching under the low-lying cot, I pulled free a thick cloth sack. It was tied with drawstring and seemed sturdy enough. Lorik had said that Talia had packed it, I shouldn't be surprised but the idea of her thinking of me in this capacity, left me feeling uncomfortable. I physically shifted on the bed looking at it. After a solid minute or two of internally arguing about the benefits and reasons not to open this bag, I simply shrugged and emptied the contents on the sheets beside me.
It was an untidy bundle; perhaps tipping it all out wasn't a good idea. I picked up the thing nearest to me- a cloth heap of sorts. Unravelling it revealed a long bandage-type article. I had rolled enough in her tents that perhaps she thought of this as some keepsake or even a joke. I was unsure. It was wider and longer than the other bandages though, thicker too. And the bandages, once clean, were typically not this dark a shade of white. I put it back in the sack, not really understanding its significance.
The next few items were much smaller, and stable. A small box, once opened, revealed a thick (and slightly blunt) needle in a bobbin of thread. Looking to my over-used shirt and spying one or two holes, I could see the use in this. I rarely changed and these clothes wouldn't hold out forever. A small inkwell and quill accompanied some string-tied parchment with a small note on the front, asking me to practice writing. I picked up the quill, it feeling very foreign to me. I hadn't needed to mark anything the last few weeks, simply doing manual work, so I didn't know if I could write. I could read, obviously, so perhaps I did possess the ability to communicate on paper… I decided to try it later, wanting something deliberate to write, rather than random scribbles. These joined the bandage and needlebox in the satchel.
The final article was a comb with a strand of plain black ribbon wrapped around it. It had many teeth and seemed quite fine. It was not ornate, but simply wooden and smooth. I was awed by it. My hand touched my hair of its own accord. It was probably a mess from this wind, I hadn't really noticed. But Talia had. She wanted me to remain tidy and neat – "It's important for a lady! Especially in the medical profession to keep yer hair oot o' the way!" she had told me. Resisting the urge to give an irritated sigh I put it back in the bag with the rest of it, kicking the offending satchel back under the cot. Pulling on my leather boots I stomped outside, unfazed by the drizzle. Looking downhill I had a great overview of Port Valgarde and saw very little. For sometime late into the night it was still quite active. Treading downhill, stepping into mud as I went, I made my way to the dock, looking for something to do. Sitting idle was not doing much for me and I had little to think about on my own in the tent.
The first night in Port Valgarde left me feeling the loneliest I had been since awakening three weeks ago, and my chest felt disturbingly hollow at the pressure that came with solitude.