A/N: The time has come that lines will cross. Horde and Alliance are bound to meet on the battle fields. They are afterall after the same thing.
Side note for any that noticed. Originally this was written for my guild members. Since anything that happens in Ironforge has no bearing on the story progression any longer, there is no point in adding any of that fluff. So I've cut it out.

Chapter 20 - Thel'zan

They clasp forearms. "Be safe."

"Now why would I want to do that?" Her sparkling green eyes, full of mischief dance in the dim light. She turns to Raleen. "You remember to listen to Rhathe and keep your head down."

Raleen grins at Kaelinie. She gives her a quick hug. "Justice will prevail."

Kaelinie hesitates before nodding. Justice. Is that what they are after? It seemed to her that they had lost sight of justice some time ago. She watches her friends ride away before turning on her heel to her own destiny. She isn't sure how she feels about her next assignment. Yet it was given to her by Overlord Agmar himself. She looks up at the dark skies resignedly before making her way to the wind rider master.

The dungeon is poorly lit. High up on the outer stone wall is a barred opening of a window allowing fresh air to enter the small cell. Cybrind sits in a far corner near the window, his eyes constantly scanning the already too familiar compact area. To his right curled up in the straw thrown on the ground for comfort are the Grims. While he is happy that they found each other after reanimation, he hates to admit even to himself that he's jealous of their happiness, their companionship, their closeness. Seeing them together in their oblivious slumber is just another reminder that he is alone. He sighs running his fingers through his hair.

After her cat nap, Kreah stretches. She runs her fingers through her bangs before attempting to remove bits of straw from her hair.

"So you're nether bent on going it alone."

Her eyes narrow in annoyance. "Yes."

Cybrind stands to stretch his legs. "I'm not surprised. You do realize if you had others with you, the task may get done faster."

"I don't need-"

"Kreah, I didn't say you need anything, least of all help." Cybrind shakes his head. "I don't doubt your skills. You're one of the best death knights I've had the honor of fighting along side. It's your call." He rubs the back of his neck. "The messenger will be here at day break?"

"Yes, I'm to take the phylactery to the summoning area within the mausoleum. There I will join the 7th Legion. We will lure Thel'zan out and I will kill it."

"What happens to this afterwards?" He motions towards the phylactery.

"It will be destroyed." She crouches beside it staring intently. "It has corrupted two known men already. It cannot be allowed to corrupt another."

He nods wearily. "Understood." They both look at each other for confirmation before turning their attention towards the stairs. Cybrind grips his mace in his right hand, holding it firmly at his side. He quickly glances over his shoulder at the darkness beyond the window. "Is it time?"

Kreah stands, pulling her swords from their sheaths. The scraping metallic sound echoes against the surrounding walls and stands beside him. Both position themselves before the phylactery. "I don't think so. It's hard to tell down here."

A soft mewling sound comes from behind them as Toots begins to stir. "You guys are too noisy. How's a girl supposed to-" Her eyes are alert. She jumps up grabbing her mace taking position without finishing her sentence. Silently Bob grabs his axe and takes his position beside his wife all four ready to battle whatever it is coming down the stairs.

Bob's eyes narrow. He sniffs the air and licks his lips. His eyes stay alert in case it's some kind of trick. He glances at the others, they too are staying alert yet he can tell they have caught the scent of what is possibly coming.

Cybrind barks out, "Identify yourself."

"Oy!" The startled yelp is accompanied by a rattling-clinking ceramic sound.

His left eyebrow rises questioningly. "Gunn?"

"Y' startled me." Gunnorda is slowly coming down the stairs carrying a picture of juice and glasses. Close behind her is Tieago carrying a tray of fruits, bread, and cheeses.

The four lower their weapons yet stay alert watching as the two approach. "What's all this?"

"Breakfast." She grins at Kreah, "We don' want our champion headin' off t' battle on an empty stomach."

Tieago shrugs, "I was out walking when I saw her struggling with all this. I didn't even know you guys were down here."

"Thanks, Gunn." Cybrind pulls over a bail of hay to set the food on. "How are things with Ajell?"

Tieago shakes his head sadly. "She won't let me near them."

The only sound for miles is of hooves pounding relentlessly at the path as it echoes against the snowy mountain side to their left. The two riders crouch low over the back of their respective horses. The cold chilled early morning air bites at their extremities. Her eyes are watering and stinging from the cruel wind. Her ears lay low numbly. Without a word she follows closely, turning when he turns, banking when he banks. She has learned over the years to keep close to him and follow his orders. It's how she's survived, its how they've survived. This mission is of the utmost importance and they are heading into enemy territory, Alliance territory.

Over head is a loud screech. In the still night, the sound is amplified. She shudders yet doesn't falter. Faster still they move towards their destination. "Hold!"

Rhathe has slowed. Raleen pulls her horse to his left and follows suit. They ride at a slower pace, almost at a walk. Rhathe's eyes scan the horizon and stops suddenly. Silently she sits beside him. Questions ring through her mind. Why are they stopping, what did he see or hear that has him searching the area this way?

She takes a calming breath. Her eyes fly open. She looks over head searching for the source of the noise. Rhathe points in the distance. His voice low almost a whisper. "There."

Just to their left they see three shadowy shapes in the sky. She squints to make out the forms. The flapping wings are unmistakable. She strains to identify what is flying over head. Rhathe leans closer to her still looking at the shadowy figures. "Gryphons with packs." He pauses for a moment and grins. "They appear to be going our direction. Perhaps we will meet them when we get there."

Raleen shudders. She isn't keen on meeting the three flying over head or any other Alliance. "If we must kill them, I hope they're human." She wrinkles her nose in disgust earning her a soft chuckle from Rhathe.

Three grand white gryphons land at Wintergarde Keep. Three men dismount. Two guards approach wearily before recognizing the man in the middle. Each snap to attention and salute respectfully. He returns their salute, dismissing them immediately. He speaks quietly to the man to his immediate right who salutes and heads to the keep. He looks around with a soft smile, fond memories of finer times play before him. His smile fades as reality seeps into his memories. With a heavy sigh, he makes his way toward the keep where his elite guard is announcing his arrival.

They look up at the side of the mountain. The Keep is up at the top, the town just below, the village below that with the infested farmland at the base. He dismounts, tethering his horse to a nearby tree. He watches as she bravely follows suit. While he admires her resolve and dedication, he wishes she would have stayed safe in Silvermoon. They're in over their heads. It is their fate, sealed not so long ago by Father Montoy.

He removes his gauntlets, laying them carefully over his saddle. Without a word, he cups her face in his hands, lowering his lips to hers kissing her. She shivers, wrapping her arms around his waist holding him tightly to her. He kisses her cheek, her jaw line, whispering words of encouragement. She nods numbly.

Briefly they stand together as he allows her to draw courage from him. Her voice is shaky. "I love you, Rhathe."

He smiles down at her. He gently kisses her forehead. "Remember, we're together and together we are strong."

She tries to be brave and smiles nervously up at him. "I'm ready."

The intelligence given is much more accurate than he expected. The sketch of a map hastily drawn by the scout is surprisingly detailed. The two work their way around the side of the village, keeping to the outskirts of the farmlands and killing what scourge they come in contact with.

The messenger has come for the phylactery. He approaches to take it from Kreah and she backs away. "Lead on, but don't touch." She grins at the others and heads up the stairs easily carrying the phylactery in the crook of her arm.

Before following her he pauses at the foot of the stairs. He looks at the women, "Would either of you be Toots Grim?"

Toots steps forward, her eyes narrow quizzically. "Yup."

He nods once. "You and your officers are to report to the Keep immediately. High Commander Wyrmbane is expecting you." He turns on his heel and runs up the stairs to catch up with Kreah leaving the others behind.

"Well, that's us three." Toots sighs. "Our numbers are dwindling."

Bob puts his hand on her shoulder. "Not permanently. Just minor set backs. Everything will be fine, you'll see."

Toots takes a moment to grin at Bob and nods. "Okay, we'll see." She turns her attention to Cybrind. "In the meantime we need to go."

"Dinnae worry aboot us. We'll clean this up."

"Oh… right." Cybrind winces. "Sorry."

She grins up at him and shakes her head. "I mean it. Now go on."

"Thanks!" Cybrind kisses the top of Gunnorda's head before the trio head up the stairs to meet with the High Commander.

The messenger eyes the phylactery before leading Kreah through the tunnel. "Hard to believe something so small is supposed to save us."

Kreah snorts. "You'd be surprised what kind of power can be in small things."

He nods vaguely as they come to an open chamber. The dirt floor is uneven. A small mound forms a bit of a ramp towards two large stone pillars against the far wall. Between these two pillars Kreah notes a soft orange-gold glimmer. Her runic blue eyes scan the chamber noting the small band of four elite 7th Legion soldiers. Legion Commander Yorik approaches her introducing himself. "Good morning, I am Legion Commander Yorik of the 7th Legion. I see you have the phylactery. Are you… you're the one who retrieved it, aren't you."

Kreah's eyebrow quirks, she gives him an amused half grin. "I am Kreah of the Achievement Freaks." He raises an eyebrow at the oddly named band of mercenaries. "Yes, I am the one who fought beside the 7th Legion in order to secure this phylactery."

The Commander salutes Kreah. "It is an honor to meet you and fight at your side." He motions her to follow him as he explains further. "This is the doorway to the planes. Here is where we will face Thel'zan."

Kreah looks to her left at the small hallway, "What is through there?"

Yorik looks at the hallway and waves a dismissive hand. "The rest of the mausoleum is through that hallway. What we will summon will be here shortly from here."

They enter the familiar office of High Commander Wyrmbane to an unfamiliar sight. Sitting behind the desk is not the commander, it is a man with brown hair, mustache and beard. His armor is the gold of a high ranking paladin. His blue tabard bears the lion of Stormwind. Directly behind him on both sides are elite guards of the 7th Legion both standing at parade rest, arms crossed behind them, hands set at their lower back, feet shoulder width apart, their heads held high. The plate clad man sitting at the desk is leaning forward on his elbows, his chin resting on his crossed hands in contemplation. He stares at the desk as if concentrating or lost in thought.

Wrymbane stands at the front corner of this desk eagerly motioning for them to enter. He glances at the man before speaking. As he opens his mouth to speak, the man suddenly looks up at them, his eyes sparkle with anticipation. "It's begun."

Wrymbane looks out the window towards the village below, the sun finally beginning to make its appearance. "Yes."

The three death knights stare emotionless with their blue runic eyes. Not one glances out the window as Wyrmbane had. Each watches the man behind the desk. The power within that man is tangible. Each of them can feel it, taste it and they watch him with growing interest.

High Commander Wyrmbane clears his throat. Not one bothers to remove their eyes from the man behind the desk. "Sir, this is-"

He stands suddenly grabbing his shield. His anticipation is felt throughout the room. "He's coming." He turns to Wyrmbane. "When they are done here, have them report to Angrathar!"

"Yes, Sir!" Wyrmbane salutes, the death knights step out of his way. Cybrind opens the door as the three run out. He quirks a brow at Wyrmbane before closing it behind them.

The High Commander's face lights up with respect for the departed man. "That was Highlord Bolvar Fordragon. He has come to face Thel'zan the Duskbringer."

Raleen looks around the dim corridors then at the map before pointing to the right. "That way."

The pair head down the hallway, taking the corners with care and proceeding cautiously. Voices? Distant voices. They look at each other in confusion. A sudden urgency passes between them. Alliance. Immediately they pick up their pace. Caution is thrown to the wind as they barrel down the corridor. "Left!"

There at the end of the tunnel is a wavering light, the sounds and voices they heard clearly come from the end of this tunnel. They slow their pace, weapons at the ready. Keeping to the shadow of the hallway they watch with growing interest at the activities within the chamber. Raleen points to the man speaking to the others and more importantly the phylactery within his grasp.

Legion Commander Yorik stands boldly before his men. "Steel yourselves, soldiers. Kreah has provided us with the final piece of this puzzle. The dread lich, Thel'zan, will soon come out of hiding, only to be rendered powerless against us!"

A 7th Legion soldier sifts the dirt from the ground in his hand idly. "Death comes for us all eventually, but sometimes it comes a little faster than anticipated. Today we call that blind heroics… Tomorrow someone may call it stupidity."

Kreah looks at the man with a smirk remaining silent. Drawing her swords as the Legion Commander holds the phylactery in his hands. He faces the portal placing it on the ground at his feet near the beginning of the slope facing the portal. "It is this phylactery, Thel'zan's phylactery - that is the key to victory!"

The ground shakes. Everyone looks around, alert for an attack. Kreah keeps her eyes trained on the portal as the taunting voice speaks from within. "I was... once like you. Mortal. Soft. Only flesh and bone. Weak and timid."

Yorik pulls his sword from its sheath raising it over his head with a simple battle cry. "Legion, steady yourselves!"

Thel'zan the Duskbringer emerges from the portal doorway. The tall lich floats over the dirt ground. His undead runic body shimmers in the dim light. The chains that bind its body rattle eerily as it drifts forward. "Our lord, Arthas, saw in me the frailty of man." Slowly it approaches his phylactery, focused on those who summoned him. "Serve me in life and I will promise to rend the weakness from your soul. To erase it from existence! To be chosen... blessed by the Lich King in such a way. So serve him I did... Were it not for me the glorious dead citadel of Naxxramas may never have returned to Northrend."

Thel'zan pauses, addressing those before him. "Just as our lord saved me, so too shall I save you!"

Lord Fordragon runs in from the tunnel to face Thel'zan. Gasps are heard among the men as he boldly walks past them to stand between them and the lich. "Honor, courage, compassion and justice! These were once the virtues you fought for as a cleric of the Argent Dawn, Thel'zan. You dedicated your life to fighting the Scourge. You saw what they did to our beloved Lordaeron. The Lich King took everything from you!"

He draws his sword, readies his shield taking a challenging stance. "So how, then, did Father Inigo Montoy, bastion of virtue for the Argent Dawn, become the embodiment of that which he hated most?"

Thel'zan the Duskbringer visibly recoils at the mention of his true name. He hisses staggering back a step before facing the paladin. Enraged he lifts his hands to the ceiling, his voice echoing within the chamber. "This will be the last time you utter that name, Paladin! Breathe your dying breath! Rise, my minions! Your master commands it!"

The pair in the hallway silently watches the theatrics in the summoning chamber. Rhathe quickly counts the Alliance in order to figure their next move, four soldiers, one leader, and one death knight. He keeps an eye on the death knight and how calm she is through it all, almost bored. Neither of them speak common yet the way the leader speaks he is apparently rallying his troupes' morale.

Raleen covers her mouth as Thel'zan the Duskbringer emerges from the portal. She works to steady her breathing and calm her nerves. Rhathe curses under his breath as three more enter from a direction he cannot see. Six soldiers, two leaders and a death knight all to fight one lich. He looks at Raleen and takes a deep breath. Some how they needed to get to that phylactery in order to destroy it. The newcomer mentions Father Montoy and the Argent Dawn. They exchange a knowing look. He nods in encouragement. She smiles timidly.

The ground rumbles beneath their feet. Rhathe wraps his arm around Raleen's waist pulling her to him, pressing her against the wall he leans in to her covering their heads as debris falls around them. She lowers her head instinctively. He whispers to her, "Are you okay?"

She smiles and nods. She brushes dust from his hair and he grins.

All around the chamber, bones crackle and come to life, the sound echoes around the room. Kreah's runic eyes dance. The more the merrier! She holds her swords at the ready. Lord Fordragon raises his sword. "Victory for the Alliance!"

An army of undead has risen from the dirt ground at the command of Thel'zan. The small band of soldiers find themselves surrounded yet fight valiantly. Lord Fordragon faces off with Thel'zan. Kreah loses herself in battle finding small challenges in their varied fighting skills. Gleefully she renders undead after undead back to the nether.

Rhathe looks at Raleen, their eyes meet. She nods bravely and the pair joins the fight. A skeleton catches sight of Raleen and charges. Raleen's eyes narrow, she calls upon her training, raising her right hand she turns the undead, sending him running in the opposite direction directly in the path of the death knight.

Rhathe swings his shield, beheading the undead before him. Carefully they make their way towards the phylactery. Thel'zan casts a glyph on the ground, mounds of ice form in a circular fashion. Rhathe moves to his left and is mercilessly pushed back. His sword rises, their eyes meet. Both startled at the encounter. His green eyes challenging her blue runic eyes, her grin is malicious and confident. He quirks his eyebrow tauntingly at the death knight urging her to battle. For added flavor he adds a war cry of his own. "For the Sunwell!"

He moves to attack yet finds himself shackled within chains of ice. His eyes flash with annoyance. The death knight laughs at the irony finding she too is shackled. The laugh dies out when from her peripheral she notes another walking calmly up to her. Raleen stands before the death knight, phylactery in hand. She smiles gratefully and nods before making her exit.

Rhathe laughs victoriously calling upon the Sunwell and the hand of freedom, he shakes off the shackles. He steps before the death knight, her eyes blazing and angry. He bows mockingly. The pair slip past the fighting undead and soldiers making their escape down the hallway they entered. The death knight calls after them in an unknown language.

All fun and games aside, Kreah is livid. The two blood elves are getting away through that blasted hallway. She fights against the chains of ice feeling them weakening. She growls and thrashes harder until at last she is freed. Running full speed to the hallway she hears cries of victory behind her. Without turning back to see what was is going on, she storms through the hallway and finds she's in a labyrinth of tunnels. She growls a low menacing growl. She takes the hallway to the left, working her way around and through rooms. Horde, Alliance, factions mean nothing to her. Duty on the other hand…

She finds herself at a dead end. She lets out a howl of annoyance, spins on her hoof and heads a new direction. It is her duty to destroy that phylactery once Thel'zan is slain. From the sounds of the soldiers, that task is complete leaving it up to her to destroy his phylactery. In her frustration she runs faster down another corridor.

"Left!" They move quickly yet cautiously through the tunnels. Miraculously none of the soldiers knew they were there. Raleen was tempted to help the skeletons kill a human or two yet refrained finding it may call too much attention to their presence.

"There, up ahead." They could see the sun shining and reflecting off the snow at the entrance of the mausoleum. They pause at the entrance and listen to the howling angry death knight following them. Raleen shivers. "We don't have much time."

Rhathe takes the phylactery and places it at the entrance. He takes Raleen's axe and nods. Instinctively Raleen backs away. Rhathe takes a full swing with the axe, bring is down on the phylactery as Raleen casts her judgment. A distinct crack and groan can be heard from the phylactery. Again Rhathe swings the axe as Raleen casts judgment, the gold magic flashes in the sunlight. At last the seal is broken. Rhathe knocks the top from the phylactery exposing the ashes within. He takes Raleen's hand in his and together they purify the ashes. The blinding flash of light fills the hallway around them, sending it racing along behind them at the speed of light as a beacon beckoning the death knight.

Rhathe takes a deep calming breath. He nods at Raleen, one last time he swings the axe as she casts judgment shattering the phylactery, scattering the cleansed ashes in the wind. The death knight stops in her tracks, turns her head as the ashes fly her way as well. Raleen gasps. She looks wide eyed at the death knight and backs away towards the doorway. She has the lid in her hand clasped to her chest in fear. Her green eyes watch the death knight as she approaches slowly. Rhathe positions himself between Raleen and the death knight. Their job is done. They have destroyed the phylactery. What fate has in store for them now is anyone's guess. He hands Raleen her axe back, he pulls his shield from his back in a defensive move yet waiting to unsheathe his weapon depending on what her reaction is.

The death knight kneels beside the broken phylactery. Carefully she touches the cleansed ashes hissing as it touches her undead skin. She laughs. Her reverberating voice echoes down the corridor behind her sending a chill through Raleen. She stands and looks at the two paladins, sheathing her swords before heading back down the corridor.