Chapter 14
The morning sun was just rising when Eitrigg received a stern knock at the door to his apartment. Had was already awake, but just barely. His mail and leather armor and axe still lay next to the mattress he had removed from the wood bed frame to place directly on the stone floor.
"Ambassador!" Came the stern voice of a male guard. "Her majesty the queen summons you!"
What could she possibly want at this hour? I swear that woman still never sleeps, living flesh and blood or not. Eitrigg thought to himself, forcing his aged eyes to fully open.
"I'M COMING!" Eitrigg responded, bellowing in irritation. It was followed by a snarl and some growling as he pulled on his leathers. Having pulled his boots on he stood up from the floor, picking up his war axe and leaving it in his hand. He chose to leave the mail armor where it was.
He looked disheveled, but he was too old to care. He would send the message by his appearance that an aged orc woken too early was a dangerous enemy indeed.
He pulled the door to his quarters open to find four armed and armored human guards waiting for him. Their expressions were serious, and his trained warrior's eyes noticed their hands fingering the hilts of their swords. They were expecting a fight.
So much for us trusting one another. He thought with some regret.
"Ambassador Eitrigg, her majesty the queen summons you to her throne room immediately." The guard repeated tensely.
The old warrior sized up his potential adversaries before he realized what he was doing. They wore the armor of deathguards, not Arete's death knights. This told him Sylvanas didn't seriously expect to have to force him. It was for show, though the guards were unaware of it. She wanted to reinforce that it wasn't a polite request she was making. Even at his age, it would be their deaths if they tried to make the veteran warrior go. It might possibly be his too, but that wasn't likely.
"Tell her majesty I am coming. Willingly." Eitrigg told them, giving a forced smile.
"We are to escort you to her presence at once." The guard told him as though it weren't obvious.
"I know." Eitrigg replied sarcastically to the man who probably spent most of his days guarding a door no one went through. He then gestured with his free hand. "Lead the way."
The guard nodded nervously as two went before him and two behind as though marching a prisoner. He might have been offended if he wasn't so curious as to what all this was about. He had though the queen and he had come to a mutual understanding of respect if not friendship. They both wanted to see Garrosh gone, and would both work towards that goal. Something had changed to make her want to send a message to him.
They marched through the halls and passageways of the city until they entered the throne room. The first thing Eitrigg took note of was the change in mood, and guards. Gone were the deathguards like the ones who came to "escort" him. Death knights now stood at the doors in their full black plate, their eyes blazing with that unholy pale blue glow as they looked at him.
Her majesty sat on the throne of Lordaeron in her full ranger-general's martial uniform. Her bow, quiver full of arrows, and twin blades rested next to her and within reach. Bags under her otherwise flawless skin told him that she had not slept well if at all that night. Her expression was one which he had not seen on her face since before the "rebirth". It was cold and lethal. The expression one might see on the face of a woman he had betrayed.
Something had definitely changed.
"You sent for me, your majesty?" Eitrigg asked in a flat voice as she stared at him in a cold and calculating way.
"You told me that Garrosh does not know magic. That he would not trust magic users. I destroyed our only real means of stopping him because of your 'counsel', orc." She stated as though they were charges against him, and he came to understand quickly that this was indeed a trial of sorts. She stood up from her throne, picking up her blades from where the rested and holding them in her hands as she slowly approached him. "And then I come to find out last night that he has been training with your city's mage instructor for the past week!"
She paused, awaiting his answer.
"Would it matter if I told you I knew nothing about it?" He said wearily, understanding and even accepting what was about to happen. He kept his axe in his hand. "I have never seen him so much as give a respectful glance to a mage, much less consult with one."
Sylvanas' eyes bore holes into his own as she studied his face, trying to discern if he spoke the truth or not.
She then continued, her voice angered but even. "I have it on good authority that he intends to launch an attack on Stormwind by nightfall."
"What?!" Eitrigg yelled without thinking. "That's insane! We don't have the manpower or the seige weapons for that kind of campaign any more than the Alliance does! That fool will be leading our people into a slaughter and he knows it!"
The queen took in his response, continuing to observe the changing emotions of incredulity and outrage wash over his face.
She then sheathed her twin swords at her sides and raised a hand, gesturing to the death knights who stood by within the chamber. "Leave us." She commanded, her voice ringing with the authority of a general that brooked no dissent from her troops.
One by one her guards saluted and departed the chamber, leaving the two of them alone in the middle of the room, standing over the seal of Lordaeron engraved into the marble and gold floor.
"I believe you." She said, the anger draining from her voice, though the tension did not.
Eitrigg nodded, seeing a glimpse of the woman she had become returning to the face of the woman she had been.
"With the source of magic energy he now holds, my source informs me that even the elementary spells he has mastered under Marud's tutelage would be devastating to the city." She then told him. "There may not be survivors. I need to know now, right now on your honor as a warrior, to whom you owe your allegiance Eitrigg. I need to know whether or not we can trust each other." She told him.
"On my honor, I serve the Horde." Eitrigg told her without hesitation. "I owe my allegiance to my people. I want a future for them as much as you want one for yours. But I do not and will not serve this fool any longer. If you want my loyalty insofar as destroying Garrosh Hellscream, then on my honor you have it, your majesty." His voice was sincere and passionate.
Sylvanas nodded. "Then I will tell you I sent a team of mages hours ago to recover the relic from him. They will ambush him in Stormwind and force it from him. Whether or not he survives the extraction is of no concern to us."
"And if they fail?" Eitrigg asked, his face genuinely concerned.
"Then the Alliance learns a severe lesson in humility and we try again later." She told him.
Eitrigg's face fell at her answer and he shook his hoary orc head sadly. "He is not going there to merely humble the Alliance with a defeat, your majesty. If Garrosh is going to Stormwind, it is to kill every man, woman, and child that he can. He no longer cares for just victory over the humans. He will not be satisfied with anything less than total genocide."
A look of horror broke over Sylvanas' face as she comprehended the orc's words. "There are two hundred thousand people in the Alliance capital..."
Eitrigg nodded "I have known many worthless humans. I care little for these. Garrosh can throw these to his worgs. But I have also known a few with whom I would trust my life and call 'brother'. I have shed blood next to them fighting against the Lich King. I owe my life to the honor and courage of a human paladin. These are worth saving. And there are many, many children in that city. I would give them the chance to grow and prove themselves as honorable warriors that I might also one day call 'brothers'."
"We have twelve hours before Garrosh launches his attack. What do you counsel, Ambassador?" She asked, her voice regaining the steel of decades of leading and commanding armies.
"You have ships, don't you?" Eitrigg asked.
"We can't get them south fast enough." She told him flatly.
"How are you getting your mages to Stormwind?" He asked, knowing the distances involved and coming up short on time.
Light then broke across her darkened, martial features as she nodded.
"Come with me!" She commanded.
She then cried out, loudly shouting orders to those she knew would be waiting to hear them, "Death knights with me! Get me Lord Commander Arete! Send messages to Silvermoon! Have them prepare the destroyers and transports for departure! I want my rangers ready for battle within the hour!"
Several not so distant voices replied swiftly, "Yes, my queen!"
Eitrigg then heard the fierce slapping of metal and leather soled boots on the stone floors in the nearby corridors as her underlings moved quickly to obey.
"Where are we going?" Eitrigg asked, uncertain of her intentions.
"To the Orb of Translocation." She replied, referring to the arcane red crystal device of elven manufacture which allowed instant teleportation from one device to another for even non-mages. One still stood near the central courtyard of the city to allow free passage between Lordaeron and Silvermoon.
"We make for the Sunsail Anchorage in Eversong Woods." She continued. "We can't save all of them Eitrigg, but maybe we can save some. Today will define what the role of our people will be in this new world. I choose for us to take the high road once more."
Eitrigg nodded in understanding, replying as they walked quickly, "Yes… my queen."
The wind whipped around Gereth's face as he soared high over the landscape on the back of a fully grown Thalassian dragonhawk. They were fascinating animals that lived their lives almost entirely airborne, touching down only to lay their eggs. The species had long ago lost its natural fore and rear limbs (though by natural evolution or magical tampering no one knew) and now resembled a crimson, heavily scaled serpent with brightly plumed feathered dragon's wings and fanned tail. The head of the animal resembled that of a horned bird of prey. The feral dragonhawks in the remote parts of Quel'Thalas could be terrifying and relentless death from above to anything caught in their sights.
Of course, that is not what those on the ground would have seen had they looked up. They would have seen a flight of ten gryphons bearing Stormwind's blue and gold lion livery and similarly armored riders.
The Lordaeron mages, led by Gereth at the queen's command, had been flying for hours after teleporting to the old hunting camp in the jungles of northern Stranglethorn in the wee hours before dawn. They were all relying on concoctions and potions by the master alchemists in the service of their queen to maintain their wakefulness and stamina for the action they were about to attempt.
Sylvanas had been right about the elven flying mounts. They were truly only at home in the sky, and showed no signs of tiring as they continued steady on their course northwards. In the time he had to contemplate their plan while they were in transit, he wondered if the creatures slept on their journey, keeping their course northwards unconsciously.
The plan had been a woefully simple one: reach Stormwind before Garrosh's army, infiltrate the city and lay low until they knew for certain where he would appear. Then stun him and keep him encased in ice as the warchief had done to his wife while Gereth extracted the Triforce of Power from him. All of the mages who accompanied him were reborn humans. Except for their northern accents, it was assumed that they would be able to assimilate easily enough into Stormwind's population while they waited.
But as Gereth turned the plan over and over again in his mind, he realized there were too many unknowns. Where would Garrosh be able to teleport or open a portal to? As far as the mage knew, the orc warchief had never seen Elwynn forest, much less Stormwind City any more than Gereth himself had, and a portal or teleportation spell required that you be able to visualize in your mind where you wished to go. How would the orc accomplish this, and would he be able to fit an entire army in the destination point?
As far as Gereth knew, they had once chance at ambushing the warchief. After that, he didn't know what kind of magic they'd be facing from Garrosh, but after seeing firsthand what was possible from his piece of the Golden Flame, the mage knew it wouldn't be child's play.
His other consideration was that he did not know how to make use of the Triforce of Wisdom, the only true advantage they had if all went wrong. The piece of the Golden Flame which he held seemed to be almost a living thing with a will of its own. Its gifts appeared to be much more subtle, inviting him to discover what they were through hints and enigmas in his conscious and subconscious mind. But he had been given no time to sit and riddle them out as it seemed to desire. He had seen one such relic ignite the Hyrulian princess's innate divinity and internal light at the times when she needed it most, giving her extraordinary powers and abilities, bringing her into union with her true self. But so far, for him, it merely posed quiet, unassuming questions in his mind, the answers to which only led to more such questions. Wisdom, it appeared, was to be sought after and won through one's own introspection, and not just given freely.
Beneath him, the rainforest trees and jagged rocks of Stranglethorn gave way to the verdant, gently rolling woods, farm fields and towns of the freshly reborn province which still retained the name of "Duskwood." Like Tirisfal Glades and Andorhal in the north, this formerly cursed province of Stormwind's kingdom had also benefited from the rebirth. Having only been told of the darkened land's former state, he had not seen it himself before now. He could not tell to what extent the energies of Shaggara's wish had changed it, but from the air it looked friendly and inviting, a place one might make a home and a family in peace if peace there was. It reminded him strongly of his wife and their unborn child, and why he was on the back of the dragonhawk looking to pick a fight with the immensely powerful leader of the Horde.
The winged mounts flew on swiftly northward for hours on end. When the mage riders finally saw the river which marked the borderline between the provinces of Elwynn Forest and Duskwood, each began to rouse themselves, knowing that their time was approaching. Not long after their crossing over, the white stones and sapphire rooftops of the Alliance's capital city came into view.
As Gereth looked at the position of the sun in the sky, it was only the late afternoon. Sundown was still two or three hours away. He then signaled to those to his side and rear to circle and land at a place in the woods near the gates of the city, but off the main road and deep enough to where they would not be noticed.
To use the word "land" was not entirely accurate for the dragonhawk mounts as they continued to hover low off the ground while their riders dismounted, sliding down the back and tails of the beasts. When all were off, each mage waved his hand in front of the animal and it disappeared with a brief flash. What remained was a large medallion engraved with the image of the majestic animal which each man pocketed.
Gereth studied himself and his fellow reborn mages. With the glamor spell undone, each now appeared as they were, human mages wearing robes appropriate to their disciplines and all bore staves of one kind or another. It might be unusual for the guards at the gates to see a group of magic users such as these walking through the gates of the city instead of just teleporting in, but it could not be unheard of.
Gereth's own crimson robes still bore the sigil of the Kirin Tor, and he believed it in the best interests of their mission to not alter it. The Kirin Tor was still a semi-neutral party to the conflicts which were fought in their world, and as of late was overseen by the sorceress Jaina Proudmoore who was decidedly, militantly, in the Alliance's sphere of influence. The other men's robes were more plain, some stitched with runes of power, others bearing no markings at all.
There should be no reason for the guards to question their presence. Still, it was the first time any of them had visited the human capital city. For decades, they had seen it as the enemy, and all still held resentments about the treatment of their people while still Forsaken. There was a palpable tension among the men standing there about what they were to attempt.
"I never thought I'd be trying to help stop an invasion of this place." One of the mages, William by name, spoke up as he looked in the direction of Stormwind.
"We aren't." Another man replied, John Garrett, that resentment edging into his voice. "We're just here to put the warchief in his place. What the rest of the Horde does with it is their business. Serves the southerners right."
Gereth had little love for the Alliance folk either, but they couldn't allow their personal feelings interfere with their ruse. "We all have to keep our personal feelings to ourselves if this is going to work and convince the guards. We may not care about what happens to them, but if we don't act our parts well, then this will not work at all. It's not for these people and their families that we fight, but for our own brothers and sisters, and our own future generations. Remember that."
The other men nodded in agreement. They all had a future to fight for now.
"Let's go. Dawn is coming in Orgrimmar." Gereth told them.